Seanachai

Dear Olduvai: I think, lad, that in situations like this it's important to remember the words of Terry Pratchett: Hate is just love with it's back turned. Whether you love me, or hate me, it's all much the same. I'm there for you, in either case. I guess, really, it's what you need from life that will determine the best approach for you. Now, some hate me, and that undoubtedly makes them feel better about themselves. Others possibly love me, and do not. Funny old thing, life, what? In any case, a postcard filled with hate is a fine thing, you see, as you can put it up on the wall with all the others and horrify people who come to the apartment. Of course, the apartment itself is pretty horrifying. That's where the letters, cards, and postcards come in, you see. They help distract people from what they're standing in. Good on your Aunt. Family is important. The laughter of UberFinns, Olduvai, is more precious than gold. Of course, it's not exchangeable for a hard currency, and Mr. T would have looked damn foolish standing around wearing 15 pounds of Finnish laughter around his neck. Actually, that one's a 'push', so just forget it. But the important thing is, the UberFinns have taken notice of you. They've laughed at you, hopefully with scorn. By its very negativity, this lends you a certain credibility, not only in the 'UberFinn Mocking Community', but amongst the UberFinns themselves. As Dumas pointed out in the Three Musketeers, it is better to be noticed even by angry Monarchy than to be ignored. But, as regards using Air Supply lyrics for wedding vows, this is a practice to be assiduously avoided. Unless, of course, it's counter-pointed with acts of ludicrousness like slapping each other with fish, or wearing innapropriate leather garments, in order to spare the guests the discomfort of being humiliated for you. Nothing says 'soppy, witless, green-fairy book twit' like using song lyrics from someone like Air Supply. If you have to use song lyrics, use something desperately inappropriate, perhaps from a Metal band, or the Beat Farmers, or something. Now, Olduvai, I imagine you're just asking out of your own sense of whimsy, you, but, on the off chance that you are about to get married, let me enjoin you and your significant other to Love each other. Hard, hot, and long, with a fierce, protective courage for the feelings and fears of each other, and without regard for damage to the furniture or anything the neighbours might feel about what backyards are typically for. As for the Plutonian Butt-Monkeys: Sorry, lad, you're not cleared for that hardware. Madmatt would have my heart out through my arse-hole if we gave you access to that kind of offensive capability without proper training. -Seanachai

Well done, lads. Now, do us all a favour and sort out the way weather works, eh? Shouldn't prove much challenge for you lot...

Back to the 'Pool, insect.

Dear Hiram: Could you state that as a question of some type? I mean, what is it I can help you with? You seem very in touch with your feelings. Of course, they're nasty, brutish, dull, and bitter, but you have a wonderful grasp of them! Many people would envy your ability to focus. Others, of course, would simply drown themselves. Is this a New Jersey thing, or is it something that caring, concern, and intelligence can help you with?

Hmm. May have missed this. Was scrolling around quickly trying to find people who needed my help, and skipping by the usual round of suspects. Will give it another look...

Good God. I've finally encountered a group of people with so much time on their hands that even touching themselves has worn thin...

You bloody pansy. Snow is nature's final arbiter of worthiness. Animals cope, or die. Humans overcome, or die. Ohioans abandon their freaking cars by the side of the road when more than an inch actually accumulates, and die. Can you say: Displaced Southern Scum five times quick without ending up in a Roy Rogers? I didn't think so.

Dear Perplexed: Certainly. You lot are never going to be taken seriously as a nation while you continue to ask questions like this, you know. On the other hand, you lot are so typically inoffensive that every friend I've known that went to work in one of the world's hot spots was given a t-shirt with the Canadian flag on it...

Put it in a card, you distressing pillock. I already minister to the agonies and stupidities of you lot in the Cesspool. Here, in my Dear Seanachai thread, I can finally reach out to the Outer Boarders, and help lead them into a better place in their lives. All the while, of course, gathering up the much needed letters, cards, and postcards filled with hate.

Dear Wasting Away: Actually, the climate of Minneapolis is pretty much the same as sub-Arctic North and Central Fronts Russia. Of course, 'degradation, destruction, desolation, and deprivation' are terms that both Minneapolis and the former Soviet Union properly use when discussing Washington DC. No, Minnesota is an independent nation at the center of the North American continent. As to the Poles, it's simply a lack of imagination. We don't have that many Romanians, Hungarians, or Poles, but we have whole heaps of stubbornly and intensely annoying Finns. Walloons are one of the amusing, under-modeled 'clown ethnics' of the European scene. Everyone mocks them, while quietly getting out their encyclopedia to try and figure out what they are. After reading the entry, everyone gets this forehead wrinkling, eye squinting, far away look of speculation... It is never inappropriate to mock, deride, and throw empty beer tinnies at the Aussies. Hard. Mocking the French is what the 'Pole-bashers' who can actually breathe without having their mouths open do.

Dear Napless in Salt Lake: Hmmm. Yes.

Dear Poster with Problems: First off, lad, remember, it's not how small your member number is, it's how you use it to dominate others that counts! If you stay here long enough, forsaking anything like a normal existence in the process, I might add, you will one day have an enviable member number. In fact, you'll probably be dealing with people who will simply be tagged with the identifier 'got here so sodding recently that they're complete ****e', rather than any kind of number. But, as for your rather woeful inability to 'fit into your peer group', I can only say that the world needs people like yourself. You're probably gay, or intelligent, or a liberal, or ethnic, or something else unsavoury and suspect, but not actually 'wrong'. Not like a member of Al Qaida, or a Spousal Batterer, or someone who makes money by employing telemarketers, or Norm Coleman. Now, young people like yourself suffer a lot of unnecessary stress and anxiety by worrying that 'they don't fit in'. Fortunately, you're in the Combat Mission Forum, and pretty much every single sodding person in here is so deeply, deeply out of touch with the rest of Planet Earth that they're on mailing lists from Other Planets. So you see, lad, by not fitting in with the rest of the 'noobies', you're in fact 'fitting right in'. You're a bloody, wargame playing mutant, and so lost to the rest of humanity that even advertising probably no longer reaches you properly. So just get comfortable, sit down, and write Old Seanachai out a quick postcard filled with hate. This will be good practice for you. Oh, and don't worry about the whole 'anger' or 'not shouting while typing' sort of thing. You haven't been here long enough. Read a lot more posts from your fellow noobies, and it will come to you, rather like dysentery follows from drinking bad water.

Dear Bad Dog: Thank you for your kind words! Who's a good boy, then, who's a good boy, eh? You're a good boy, you, yes you are! I feel your pain, lad. Like yourself, I am occasionally subjected to random and unwanted sobriety, and I know the anguish you must feel when you get up the next day and wonder who you last told you loved them, and how much their posts mean to you. But, like myself, you must stay strong. And drunk. Very, very drunk. Not quite drunk enough to stop breathing, but drunk enough to find a stamp, think powerful thoughts of intense hatred, scrawl them onto something that might meet postal standards, and drop it into a box, or, better yet, simply give it to any person in a uniform (who, after pepper-spraying you, will probably thoughtfully drop it into the correct receptacle). I realize that we are talking about a very, very narrow window of opportunity here. But here's something that may help: Drink steadily, while watching TV, until you start to laugh at the evening news. When you reach this point, consider the alleged nation of 'Australia'. Do they seem like an alright mob to you? If so, grab a crayon and give the letter writing a shot. Afix the stamp to some portion, and go looking for someone in uniform.

Dear Grog Dorosh: To those of us "in the know", and aware of what takes place "behind the scenes" (or rather, "under the rock"), your question offers an opportunity to "really get things out in the open", as well as "a chance to use quotation marks just a few more times". Now, as to "where have all the Grogs gone", I could reply "young girls picked them, every one". But of course, even a complete and utter pillock would know that that simply wasn't 'on'. You almost guessed it, with your little joke about some of them being an attempt by Maximus to establish something like a credible, or even human, persona. They are all still here, lad. Each and every Grog, Super-Grog, and Super Deadly Ninja Grog (these are the people who never, ever not even once cracked a joke, or made a reply to anyone who wasn't 100% discussing the topic at hand) is still posting. They now have taken on other screen names, names that hide their True Identity. They are, in fact, posting some of the most lame, scatalogical, goofy tripe on the Board. They use terms like 'dude', and even take a stab at 'L33T' talk. They mock the whole concept of Grogishness, and make complete and utter fools of themselves at every opportunity. It's neither a sign of Bipolar Condition, nor the result of some sort of 'final breakdown'. Nor is it a joke on the rest of us, as it is well-known that Grogs cannot joke, just as a duck's quack is incapable of producing an echo. No, Grog Dorosh, this process is the result of the natural life-cycle of these creatures. They grow thoughout their Grog state, then go briefly dormant (this often coincides with the months immediately prior to a new release of the game}, and then they re-emerge as giddy lackwits who were cut from the 'extras' list of the last Adam Sandler movie. In the final stage of their lives, when they move on into full maturity, they start posting in the Peng Challenge Thread. Look around you, Grog Dorosh! Nothing is ever lost, it is just in a constant state of flux, and growth! Isn't nature wonderful! P.S. - send the postcard, lad. Or better yet, send an actual card. A card filled with hate for myself would easily double Canada's literary output for the year. [ October 30, 2002, 08:13 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Dear The Capt I know it's you, lad, because no lawyer uses that many words unless each one is billable. Now, you're quite wrong, as the esteemed 'Once and Future Lurker' was more of an open, essay sort of thing, in the spirit of Dennis Miller, or Hunter S. Thompson. Except not as good, of course. Still, it was and is a very fine effort by someone who's issues with life, religion, sex, death, and puppets of all sorts have rendered them completely incapable of holding down anything like a normal job, and who post the 'Once and Future Lurker' column sporadically, as the General Disability checks come in, leading to a temporary but plentiful supply of alcohol. As such, The Capt is no more capable of offering 'advice' to other people than Idi Amin is of hosting a Christian Telethon. It is well known that whatever useful information might ever have come out of the 'Lurker' thread was completely the product of Pippu. [ October 30, 2002, 07:47 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Dear Pitiful and Perplexed: My dear, you are indeed quite right in that all Gnomes are gamey swine, but you attribute it to the wrong cause. Gnomes are gamey, do you see, and do indeed seem to suffer from huge egos, but this is because of 'short man syndrome'. Their lack of stature and the insecurity that comes with it is what powers their needy demands for attention, a symptom of which is vile, gamey play that leads to the defeat of very nice women who've never done them any harm at all. The wearing of the pointy red hat, in fact, is an attempt to 'appear taller', and the colour is designed, yet again, to call attention to themselves. If you do decide to undertake a crusade, remember that it should be a crusade not simply to 'defeat' all Gnomes, but to Crush All Gnomes Utterly! However, this forum presently offers a dearth of gnomes for proper crushing. Your best bet is to post something cutting and personal to the useless swine in question, and then snicker at him in a dismissive way. Take your cue from Soddball. He understands this sort of thing perfectly. I imagine he's not more than 5'7" himself, in fact.

Dear Disgusted Holien: This is a complaint that simply no one can ever get tired of! It is both emminently fair, and completely logical. Since BFC have brought to us two of the greatest wargames ever made, and clearly walk if not 'on' the water, then no more than an inch or two below the surface, someone else must be to blame for all the soddingly stupid things that happen in the game. Those people, of course, are the Beta Testers, who've betrayed not only you and I, but BFC as well. But, when the question arises as to what should be done to properly 'punish' them for their treachery, failures, and vileness, you run up against the same thing over and over. You see, Holien, I've met quite a few of the Beta Testers, and the ones I've met have discussed the others at some length. And the the fact is that these people are not simply mad, they are barking mad! How does one go about winding up people who bathe in their own urine, hold long, out loud conversations with various dead and departed historical figures while riding the bus, and who actually believe that modeling Real Life tactics is more significant than catering to the half-witted prejudices and personal wants of legions of 'dudes' who want it so because they think it should be so? I mean, really? But try this: Go to the General Forum and start up a thread titled something like: 'First thing we do, let's kill all the Beta Testers!' Pour out your favourite: 'this game is so stupid because' story, and directly attibute the result to a specific Beta Testers actions and comments to BFC. Then offer to let people know the names of each Beta Tester that is responsible for whatever it is that they think is most improperly modeled. It doesn't matter who you name (I can get you a list of Beta Testers screen names -- don't go by anything in the manual, those are just blinds. I have the real list of names!), just take a dart and throw it at the list. Not only will this irritate the hell out of them, but they will then start showing up to attack you, the other unhappy players, and defend themselves. Enjoy!

Dear WtbPiM: Your Mother is the victim of Old World thinking, and no mistake! There's nothing wrong with wanting to be popular! But, Wants To Be, and here I must try and be delicate, you have to remember that I actually know who you are, and have seen you in Real Life. You will get far more games, and make far more friends, if you avoid the bathing suit. In your case, I think the old saying 'a burnoose can cover a multitude of sins' about fits your situation. Bundle up, lad! Winter is coming!

Dear TeAcH: While your point neither regards CMBB, CMBO, CM, BFC, or, in fact, much of anything at all, it does raise a very good point about sending Seanachai a letter, card, or postcard filled with your hate. Now, let us be completely realistic here. The price of a stamp, either first class, or postcard rate? You people spill more value in alcohol that misses your mouth every night than is represented by the simple investment of a stamp to tell me how much you hate me. And, to answer the next point that all of you are thinking (well, all of you that are capable of moving on to the next step of thinking about much of anything), 'what about the time I spent scrawling out how much I hate you, huh? What about that, you bastard?' To that I can answer that once the lot of you have engraved your hatred onto a postcard, wielding the pencil as though it were a dagger, tossed off the first class postage in the same way you do the price of the beer, wine, scotch, whiskey, vodka, rum, gin, or rubbing alcohol that ends up in your lap each night, and sent away your postcard filled with hate, you'll notice several things. Your hands will stop shaking, because for the first time in years, you've actually expressed your hate in a constructive and satisfying way, leading to a considerable lessening of your stress levels. As a result, you'll spill far less alcohol, saving you a fortune, and more than making up the price of the postage you spent in sending me the hatred that was previously poisoning your lives. Now, TeAcH, there's no need to thank me, although you probably should. Simply send your letter, card, or postcard today. And feel free to go beyond simply hating me, important as that is. Let all your hatred out. Use a Hallmark card, if you're extremely stressed. They have far more room than the average postcard, and, as a sponge naturally soaks up water, a Hallmark card is the natural and appropriate vessel for vast amounts of hatred.

Hello, All! Yes, it's me again, making yet another bid for your hatred, which is so deservedly mine! Now, everyone who isn't recently arrived knows that it is extremely important to send a letter, card, or postcard filled with their very personal hatred of him to: Seanachai 3841 Grand Ave South Apt. #1 Minneapolis, MN 55409 Frankly, the cards and letters have trailed off rather sharply. And, I might add, without achieving the level of hatred that I, in my humble opinion, feel I deserve. Send your letter, card, or postcard filled with disdain, abuse, and hate. You know you want to. Now, in order to make this thread serve some sort of public service, as well as keeping it bumped up to the top. The problem with my previous 'hate Seanachai' thread was it constantly sank to page 32 because most of you sodding halfwits can't retain even good, solid hatred for longer than it takes to read the next bloody thread. So, this thread will serve the dual purpose of being the Combat Mission: Barbarossa To Berlin Agony Aunt thread. You know the sort of thing! Such as: Dear Seanachai: I'm a first time poster, and I just have to ask: what's with all these people who take their screen names from some reference to the SS, or name themselves after famous German (usually Panzer) Commanders? Is this some sort of 'In Thing', or are they just f'ing idjits? -Puzzled in Budapest Dear PiB: Thanks for Posting! It's good to see new people here on the Combat Mission Forum! But as regards your question, it's a sad but true phenomenon that many people that cannot count to 21 without undoing their fly tend to choose a 'rah-rah, I wish I'd been a member of the Waffen SS' screen name, and that a whole bunch of other people who you'd hoped had half a brain will suddenly come up with a the name of their favourite German Commander when confronted with the need to choose a screen name. The phenomenon of 'choking on life' is unfortunately common, and results in a large number of people who, when registering on the Board, review their own existence and come up with nothing more significant than the name of someone who fought well in a war that was over before they were born. Almost without fail, the people who fall prey to the 'Screen name referencing the SS or a noted German Commander' are under 30 years of age. But don't despair! Not all of them are unimaginitive idiots! Stay on, and you'll find out which ones are actually interesting! This is the 'game within a game' that BFC never mentions! Or, perhaps: Dear Seanachai: I have a lot issues with the way the game currently works. In my opinion, not enough attention is being paid to people, like myself, who have a lot of issues. When will the many issues that people like myself have, be addressed? Until my issues are addressed, I don't know what issue I should take with the various issues raised by other people, that may not be my issue, but may, in their own right, be an issue, or may simply be something that I will in turn take issue with. Any help you can give, provided I don't simply dismiss it as a 'non-issue' will be appreciated. -Poised on the Brink Dear PoB: Let me just say that the Combat Mission Forum is all about serious issues. And that I am all about serious issues. And that, as the completely unofficial spokes-creature for the CMBB Forum, which has, in no way, delegated me to speak for it, but which has also not taken the necessary steps to guarantee that I am in no way regarded as the official voice of the CMBB Forum, I just want to say that the issue you raise is a serious one. And that I stand ready, as the definitive,if completely apocryphal, oracle of the Combat Mission Forum, to address the issues wherever and whenever I may encounter them. Rest assured: I will not be intimidated! Even if you, and I, are told that I have absolutely f'ing nothing to do with BFC, Combat Mission, the Combat Mission Forum and even Reality Itself, I will not hesitate to answer your questions regarding serious issues regarding. And you can take that for the Official Response on the Combat Mission Forum, as long as you realize that the Combat Mission Forum has serious issues with me. Have you sent me a postcard telling me how much you hate me, by the by? And, finally, we come to this sort of question: Dear Seanachai: I'm in a quandary. I have this PBEM opponent who, no matter how badly I behave, no matter what kind of gamey units I buy, or what sort of sordid tactics I indulge in, refuses to hate me as I deserve. It's embarassing for me to admit, but I deeply, deeply long to hear him admit that he hates me. I've done everything I can to stir him up and make him 'get tough' with me. But he just sends turns back with the usual restrained, courteous note. I know that you're all about hatred, Seanachai, and that you've got letters, cards, and postcards on file to prove how hated you are. What can I do? Longing for Discipline and Satisfaction Dear LDS: First things first: Is your opponent English? The English are reserved, detached, and so unforth-coming that you might mistake them for being unaffected by your gamey play, when in fact they are glorying under the whip of your brutal arrogance and in a sweat of pleasure over the fact that you might snub them further. Try offering them fair terms, even chances, and historical setups. This will have them lashing out at you in the most vulgar way, as though they were New Jersey teenagers. If your opponent is not English, the chances are good that they are simply 'foreign', and haven't a bloody clue that you've offered them a 'dominance and submission' setup. Try becoming more direct. Don't just ask them if they want to defend, but ask them if they want to defend 'on their feet, or on their knees'. If even the most direct application of the 'beat me, hurt me, make me do recon with AT assets' doesn't work, consider telling them that you really, really are turned on by people who choose screen names based on references to the SS, or famous German Commanders. If nothing else, they'll either tell you you're one sick puppy, or admit 'hey! me too!' Either outcome will probably make all your dreams come true. Now, I can't promise to answer all the many posts I'm sure I'll get, but I'll do what I can. And don't forget to send your letter, card, or postcard to the address at the top of this unbelievably long post telling me how much you hate me. Because I won't go away, you know, until I've heard from all of you. -Seanachai [ October 30, 2002, 01:24 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Tomorrow night: Return of the 'I Hate Seanachai' thread, in a new and puzzling incarnation!

This is insufferable. Although my own Squire, I find his dubious boasting about allegedly having defeated the Dark One unbearable. I demand a setup. I'm not having this one turn out like Panzer Leader. Spare the unbelievable brutality, and spoil the Squire, as they used to say.

Christ on a crutch, throwing up left-handed, but you drink the worst ****e in the known Universe when it comes to serious alcohol! Your choice in wines, is a matter of taste. The fact that you chose two bottles is a good indication of your low-animal-cunning ability to realize that the 'Young Gary Shandling of Minnesota look' will only take you so far, and that insufferable, bestial drunkenness is far more likely to make your goofy-arsed smile suddenly seem charming. The food seemed interesting. Dessert was very bright on your part. Induce near coma levels with alchohol, and then apply massive amounts of sugar and chocolate. Can you say 'I'm female, witlessly drunk, but suddenly and unintelligently energetic'? Oh, wait! Is that a Lars I see before me? If it were done when 'tis done, then 'twere well It were done quickly Not a problem for Lars, I'm sure.

Gods, that's hideous. Looks like the 'Terry Redlin/Wild Wings' school of military painting.

Damn right they're snobs! Every last single one of them! When I posted my 'send Seanachai a letter, card, or postcard telling him how much you hate him', did I get one bloody card from a Grog? I did not! Jason Cawley, Rexford, wwb, that guy John Waters who's screenname is escaping me right now, Jeff Heidman, and all that lot: Not a single, bloody postcard! Not even that swine Dorosh! And I know he hates me! So no question about Grog snobbiness, lad! simple sodding postcard...how much time can that take...not one bloody ounce of grog-hate...wankers...grumble...grumble...