Seanachai

Once you've opened the box, Pandora, it's no good looking embarassed and pretending you were just looking for change for the bus.

Interesting, but quite, quite wrong. I forgot to mention that the original incarnation of the Peng Challenge Thread is no longer reachable within the BFC forum. It reached something like 3,000 posts while the lads at Bigtime watched with great interest, and then it imploded. It can no longer be reached by normal means. Some lad...is it Lindan? has a link to get to that moment of genesis, and the first, what, 120 some pages of the original thread? Those were bold days! A man could ride across the Thread for weeks, lapped in a comforting sea of weirdness. [ October 19, 2002, 08:41 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Probably not. A lot of folk are probably still working through all the new units and changes and haven't yet found all the gamey bits. Also, everyone's still so busy playing that they haven't gotten around to the usual whinging about gamey tactics/units yet. Mind, there's always going to be gamey play, ahistorical play, and such like, and there will always be players who take advantage of it. But a significant percentage of whining about 'gameyness' comes from people who use it as a smokescreen for their inability to push a tonka toy across the room without having it burst into flames. But most of those who are losing a lot of games are still busy debating 'how the changes have adversely affected my ability to win, and therefore represent poor modeling of Real World conditions'. Once most of those arguments have been put down, we'll see the next wave of 'I lost, and it's because of this gamey unit/tactic/availability/etc.' We're still in the 'honeymoon' phase where players are blaming their lack of performance on BFC and too much wine at the reception.

You pillock, that's Emma's delightfully unstressed weird spelling bee thread. By the way, got your card filled with hate, and I loved it. I hope you don't choke on a beer and die under embarassing circumstances. Publicly, anyway. What is Peng? A question indeed. The simplest answer is that 'Peng' is MrPeng. Of course, now that you've been told that, you're still no closer to the truth than you will be at the moment of your death. Sorry. Hope you weren't expecting any 'sudden awakening' or 'spiritual enlightenment' there, either. Now, so as not to send your poor and lonely self away, doubtless traumatized by a sudden awareness of your own mortality and how little prepared you'll be for the Big Dark when it hits, without an answer that you can actually grasp, I will give you the 'graspable' version. The Peng Challenge Thread has, in fact, existed since before recorded human history. Not many realize this. Of course, in it's very earliest days (pretty much everything before recorded history), it was simply called 'the food chain'. Now, since the invention of Combat Mission (kudos to the lads at BFC for finally creating the circumstances which allowed an actual element of the human condition to find an expression), it has existed as a 'Taunting and Posturing Thread Aimed at Challenging Individuals to a Game of Combat Mission'. Of course, it is so much more than that. Anything that comes into being for a stated and clearly defined purpose is still subject to change. And when that clearly stated and defined purpose is to taunt and challenge people to merry combat, you're going to start getting a sort of 'involuntary, unexpected, and probably disturbing' evolution. The genesis was simply one lurker nervously making a satirical post to a well-known figure of an humourous standing, inviting him to play a PBEM and passing some jocular remarks in the process. The result was history, myth, and silly little questions like yours. For you see, with the fortuitous interaction of the existence of Combat Mission, the Internet, Edmund Rostand, Terry Pratchett, God, an annoyed but feisty dachshund named 'Colin', Satan, Death, the existence of Good and Evil, Curmudgeons, Women, the innocent stupidity of transporting thousands of drunken and criminal members of the British Isles to Australia, thingies, the Dreamtime, newbies, the Illuminati, Feudalism, Wisdom, Stupidity, Extremely Egregious Stupidity, Laughter, Abuse, Outer Boarders, Grogs, Scotch, Beer, Very Good Scotch, Kelly's Heroes, Bagpipes, the Mormons, Our inability to muster the national resolve to return Texas to the Mexicans, Schism and Apostasy, Polar Bears, the Brick, a Pointed Stick, Lawyers, The French, the Old Firm, Surstroemming, Arthurian Legend, the Templars, Rudyard Kipling, Alexandre Dumas Pere, Babelfish, the English, Cesspools, Minnesota, TC Schutz, bards, stenographers, sheep, the Poor Man's MacAuslan, Milton, donkeys, riverboats, Quests, the Norns, Fiction, Monty Python, bodily functions, Trials, Titles, a belief in 'punctuated evolution', JRR Tolkien, and, of course, The Jolly Sing-Song, the existence of the Peng Challenge Thread was a foregone conclusion. That's the 'short' version, of course. The 'long' version involves something on the order of 10,000 plus posts. Of course, the very shortest version is this: Three figures sit in the midst of a Wasteland, around a crackling fire. They wait for the World to be Created around them by the journey of the people, who arrive with their laughter, their bickering, and their enjoyment. They represent the Three Fates. Only one of them can sing. That doesn't stop the other two. Which one is Peng?

Panzer Leader was bad-mouthing Harv? What thread was this? Panzer Leader, you're not allowed to be an arrogant swine without massive backing. It's the whole 'yarbles' thing. You're going to need to fill out some forms, lad. [ October 19, 2002, 01:04 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

That's like, what, about $2-3 in a freely convertible hard currency, then, yes?

The opening line cause me to do a 180 on my previous stance against censorship and book burning... In the name of all that is good and decent in humanity, change the title to something like 'Any Man, Even One Hideously Deformed and Ugly, So Long As It Is Not Panzer Leader Of Old Mars' Oh, and you do realize that when you die and arrive in the Afterlife, Edgar Rice Burroughs, Robert Howard, and Fritz Lieber are all going to be waiting there to kick the ever-loving ****e out of you, don't you? [ October 18, 2002, 11:11 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

A Lady will always have her place. Up on the white veranda She wears a necktie and a Panama hat. Her passport shows a face from Another time and place She looks nothin' like that. And all of the remnants of her recent past Are scattered in the wild wind. She walks across the marble floor Where a voice from the gambling room is callin' her to come on in. She smiles, walks the other way As the last ship sails and the moon fades away From the Cesspool of Peng. As the mornin' light breaks open, the Gnome comes down And he asks for a rope and a pen that will write. "Pardon, monsieur," the Donkey says, Cavalierly he lifts his fez, "Am I hearin' you right?" And as the yellow fog is liftin' The Gnome is quickly headin' for the second floor. She passes him on the spiral staircase Thinkin' he's the Soviet Ambassador, She starts to speak, but he walks away As the storm clouds rise and the palm branches sway On the Cesspool of Peng. A Squire sits beneath the fan Doin' business with an SSN who sells him a ring. Lightning strikes, the lights blow out. The Donkey wakes and begins to shout, "Can you see anything?" Then the Gnome appears on the second floor In his bare feet with a rope around his neck, While an Aussie in the gambling room lights up a candle, Says, "Open up another deck." But the Justicar says, "Attendez-vous, s'il vous plait,'' As the rain beats down and the cranes fly away From the Cesspool of Peng. The Donkey heard the woman laugh As he looked around the aftermath and the Squire got tough. He tried to grab the woman's hand, Said, "Here's a ring, it cost a grand." She said, "That ain't enough." Then she ran upstairs to pack her bags While a horse-drawn taxi waited at the curb. She passed the door that the Gnome had locked, Where a handwritten sign read, "Do Not Disturb." She knocked upon it anyway As the sun went down and the music did play On the Cesspool of Peng. "I've got to talk to someone quick!" But the Gnome said, "Go away," as he kicked the chair to the floor. He hung there from the chandelier. She cried, "Help, there's danger near Please open up the door!" Then the volcano erupted And the lava flowed down from the mountain high above. The Squire and the SSN were crouched in the corner Thinking of forbidden love. And the Donkey said, "It happens every day," As the stars fell down and the fields burned away On the Cesspool of Peng. As the Thread it slowly sank The Aussie finally broke the bank in the gambling room. Justicar said, "It's too late now. You can take your money, but I don't know how You'll spend it in the tomb." And the SSN bit the Squire's ear As the floor caved in and the boiler in the basement blew, While she's out on the balcony, where a Knight sadly tells her, "My darling, je vous aime beaucoup." She sheds a tear and then begins to pray As the fire burns on and the smoke drifts away From the Cesspool of Peng. I was sittin' at home alone one night in Minneapolis Watchin' useless ****es on the seven o'clock news. It seems there was an earthquake that Left nothin' but a Panama hat And a pair of old Gnome boots. Didn't seem like much was happenin', So I turned it off and went to grab another beer. Seems like every time you turn around There's another hard-luck story that you're gonna hear And there's really nothin' anyone can say And I never did plan to go anyway To the Cesspool of Peng.

A sing-song, perhaps. [ October 18, 2002, 12:37 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Some day, lad, you'll understand that I saved you, and you'll suddenly tear-up at a fast food restaraunt or something, and begin to cry like a baby. Other corn-fed Bob Dole clones will stand around staring at you in surprise and dismay, while you brokenly sob "I never understood...it was all for me...he was like a father...and I never told him how much it all meant to me..." Hopefully one of them will then boot you in the groin and take your wallet. [ October 17, 2002, 09:46 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

I find your lack of knowledge...disturbing. Competition within the Peng Challenge Thread (there is only one, after all, infinitely reincarnated. It the is Dalai Lama of Taunt threads) is not truly focused on winning or losing at Combat Mission. Also, conversion is not a part of the Peng Challenge Thread experience. Members are allowed to retain their own spiritual beliefs, whatever those might be. Some are quite disturbing. Others are more mainstream. [ October 17, 2002, 09:31 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Don't be daft, lad. An old man like myself needs his treasured 'album of hatred'. Something that he can sit on the couch with, flanked by his nephews and nieces (no one as hated as I've worked to become will ever, obviously, have children. Although if I did, they would really hate me), and flip through. "Here, Tyler, that's my hatred from Grog Dorosh. Some very fine hatred, that! (look of horror on nephew's face) And there's my hatred from Lord General MB. Notice how the useless little pillock misspelled! He's about your age, is Lord General MB. Canadian, though." Hmmm. Might be time to pull that thread off of page 40 or whatever it's sunk to. The missives of hate are starting to fall off. In quantity, at least. The quality's still quite high. [ October 16, 2002, 10:21 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

What are you talking about? I can't believe that tero isn't the Finnish representative to the UN. Alright, that was obviously a joke. What I meant, actually, is that I can't believe that tero isn't the U.S. representative to the UN. He's everything we look for in a representative to the rest of the world. tero, you are America to me! You personify all the characteristics that we hold most dear! Emigrate, tero! Your future lies here! You'll never achieve your real potential in a small, northern nation dodging the odor of rotting fish drifting in from Sweden. You have the soul of a True American! I'm sure we can find a family in Texas to sponsor you.

Not without a postcard. You wait in line, otherwise.

But in spite of all temptations to belong to other nations, He remains an Englishman He remains an Englishman! Hey, Berli, your new Squire's a limey too, isn't he? Let's throw the two of them into a sawdust pit together to fight for their lives! Turn out in moments, Brit fella!

Seanachai at home. Pours a glass of scotch, and walks across room to straighten framed copy of mis-delivered Canadian mail hanging on the wall. Reads the name on the mailing label again, takes a long sip, and begins to laugh with delight.

True... .... But I never like it for long. Off to the Cesspool. Peace and harmony are for the other sort.

SODDING DUTCH! COME ON BACK HERE, FELLA, AND WE'LL TAKE TURNS PUTTING THE BOOT IN! No wonder they call them the 'low countries'.

Stuka, have you got the game yet, you oozing Aussie chancre? It's just that the other Aussies are starting to snicker about 'Stuka and his little insufficiency'. It pains me to see you being mocked. Well, being mocked 'poorly' that is. Seeing you abused properly is a point of pride. Leaving it in the hands of the other primitive pouched mammals degrades the level of scorn you've earned by being vulgar and un-evolved. The best part of my Quest to Crush All Australians is that it doesn't leave the abuse and belittlement of them in the hands of other Aussies, a role for which they are simply not suited. Might as well send poodles out on the veldt to hunt down and kill chihuahuas.

So it they'd struck 3 years ago, we might have been spared your endless recitations on 'threesomes'? The world would indeed be a poorer place. A better place, mind, but poorer.

Just in for a quick visit from your work with PETA, are you?

I would have thought within three posts of my objecting to Soddball. Either they're taking a kindler, gentler approach to letting stupid threads die of gout, or they're all off drunk somewhere...

Everyone? Everyone?! I am the only one comparing them to the Irish, and it's more than they deserve! In any case, everyone harps on the Finns because it is simply the only way to keep the buggers down! Without continuous, satirical, and even cruel abuse, their instinctive and cheerful determination to dominate their own corner of the landscape would spread to every aspect of this Forum. And we simply could not endure the entire place turning into 'Greater Finland'. The constant abuse of Finns is the Forum equivalent of attempting to 'cull the herd'. Without such efforts, we'd all be posting to FinlandFront.Com [ October 16, 2002, 12:30 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Good. No roster for you. No roster for you ever!

You keep cats that are larger than your children. Any hopes you might have of carrying off the role of leering womanizer are laughable.