Seanachai

We're talking about Russia here, Lurkur. Those were the same little old ladies!

I thought "Like a German" was a song by Madonna? I didn't know she and JasonC had collaborated.

Why would you think I have any idea? If I paid actual attention to everything I raved at other people, I'd have no time left for raving. Perhaps Grog Dorosh will be along shortly, and he can make the attempt.

Please, Joe, I thought we'd talked about this? No more PBEMs of Jabo!. We're starting to get calls from Geneva again, and we're on the shortlist with Amnesty International for a mailing campaign against us. Oh, and Papa Khan, I'd be happy to give you a game as soon as I get my email situation straightened out. Sorry again, Joe, but I'm usually willing to play a Landsmann, even if he's only a Serf. Hasn't Dalem taken this Papa Khan fellow as a Squire yet? Seems rather slow off the mark...

Sigh. Berli is always the one you see at the auto-da-fé selling toasting forks and sausages. His sales pitch always begins with 'Please allow me to introduce myself...'

Jesus wept. I had actually, already, and without seeing this post just gone over and gotten heavy-handed in the 'give us a date' thread. I don't want to live anymore...

Oh, for the love of Christ... Yes, yes, someone can give you an answer. I'm Seanachai. You might remember me from such threads as: 'Aggressive Half-wits: Why Can't We Simply Track Them Down and Behead Them?', 'The Peng Challenge Thread: Why Sodding Off Is Always An Option', and 'See Spot Die: Why Must Little Johnny Whinge?' I am here to tell you, my importunate little buddy, that I am, in fact an Official, Accredited, and, in fact Annointed representive of Big Time Software. And that you can trust me, because I never lie, and I'm always right. And that all the extremely important fellas in the aforesaid Big Time Software have authorized me to tell you that the game will be released exactly on schedule! Yes, that's right, there is no question that the game will be released on its scheduled date! Oh, that's right, you want a date, don't you? Okay, the game will be released on October 15th. Prove it isn't so. Then sod off, of course. Oh, and for the love of all the gods, get your own pain right! It's 'unbearable', fer chrissake, not 'unbareable'. You're not asking them to keep it clothed, now are you?

Sigh. It was never my intent, when I went there, to stifle the remarks of even so dismissive and arrogant a child as 'Seph'. I remember a day, in spring, when I sat beneath a lemon tree with Torquemada. The tree was in full flower, and the petals floated down on us like gossamer. Our discussion that day...nay, let us call it what it was, our 'argument', was the usual: the right of every individual to speak their mind. Tomás was, as always, witty, urbane, and utterly amoral. He had just penned the order that would force 200,000 jews into exile, expelling them from the Kingdom of Spain. As always, he was, with myself, utterly honest. "Seanachai, my friend. And how are you today?" "Well, your Grace." "Good, good. Have one of these apricots, they are exquisite." The fruit was tart, but succulent, with an aroma that made one think of bees in an orchard. "You are right, your Grace, the flavour is superb." "Yes. Superb." Spain's most Holy Grand Inquisitor sat quietly for several moments. "Seanachai?" "Yes, your Grace?" Torquemada waved an impatient hand at my reply. "Please: 'Tomás'. Just as you are 'Seanachai'. Must we go through this again?" "Alright then, 'Tomás'." "Good." Petals floated down from the blossoms above us. One errant petal settled on his goatee, to be brushed gently away. "Seanachai, do you ever feel pity for fools?" "Always, your...always, Tomás." "But would you spare them?" "Indeed, Tomás, I would." "But to what purpose? Why must we suffer fools?" "Because, Tomás, we do not know that they are fools." "Even when they open their mouthes and expose the empty, whistling cavern behind it? Even then?! When every word they speak makes the braying of an ass seem like the discourse of the Ancients?" "Tomás, I would be the first to say that I have judged and abused my fellows badly because of what they've said. But I have often had reason, afterwards, to question my judgement, to consider their words, and to wonder how much the prejudice of my own perceived cleverness had to do with my dismissal of what they had to say." We sat, quietly, for a while. The lemon tree arched over us. From a low branch several feet away hung a basket, and I realized it contained many small birds. Torquemada glanced up and noticed my attention. He smiled, then pursed his lips and whistled softly. A low whistling and piping rippled forth from the basket forming a melodic thrum of song that was both compelling and relaxing. "Is it not fine? They have all been trained to sing different notes. A gift from the south. Purchased from a Moor in Algeciras, I am told. A clever people, the Moors. Many beautiful and elegant things will pass from the world when we have burnt them all." "Must they all burn, Tomás?" "I fear so, yes. Those who will not serve, must perish." "And why must they serve?" "It is their lot. They are unsuited for anything else, or we would not be having this discussion." "Tomás, every individual has within themselves the answer to tyranny. Every man or woman has the right to speak up, and have their voice heard." "Have you never spurned what someone else has to say? Haven't you dismissed people out of hand?" the soft song of the birds rose suddenly as the breeze shifted, then resumed its even cadence. I sat and stared over the wall of the garden where we sat, at the sun that was dipping towards the horizon. "Yes, Tomás, I have. And I will, doubtless, do so again. But I live now in a time when people are afraid; when, as in your time, they want simple assurances about complex ideas. When they want more to be right, than to be fair, and to be safe before anything else. When whatever might be done to those who are different from them matters nothing. I live in a time, you see, when even in jest we must build a consensus of righteousness." He threw back his head, and began to laugh, albeit in a friendly way. "Big words for a little man, 'garden gnome'! And so out of place! Will you post them in the Peng Challenge Thread?" "Yes, Tomás, I will. And I will invite even those who despise me to a dialogue." "And what will you achieve?" "Well, at least I can hope to rally all right-minded folk to reject the 'Vegemite' song..." And then I awoke. My word on the topic is this: Joe Shaw, Justicar of the Peng Challenge Thread, shall have the right of saying 'yea, or nay' to the taking of Squires, that fools not introduce into the midst of the Folk those who neither honour it, nor support it, nor even understand it. But that should even one of the Olde Ones, nor several of the Seniour Knights question the Justicar's actions, nor, in fact, should even one member of the Peng Challenge Thread in good standing question it, should any such veto pass unremarked and automatic. I mean, this seems to be rather a no brainer. If we give Shaw this sort of automatic veto power, how long is it going to be before we're trying to cope with a fire at the Reichstag?

Young people today, they have no patience. Imgrat, Imgrat! is all they can say. Ah, to be young again! Of course, I'd have to shoot myself because I was so bloody annoying, but then, there's a growing movement in favour of that in any case...

You know, I kept seeing that while I re-read, and something kept nagging at me about it. But I blew it off. This would mean, of course, that no one is without error. This is what has kept me previously from demanding that BTS restructure the game to conform with my understandings. But you are right, Grog Emrys, and I abase myself in my contrition. Not that we still haven't got our eye on you, Emrys.

Lad, I completely understand, and I'm sorry for exposing your inability to understand longer or more complicated posts. Although, as you list in your profile that you are a 'student' you will probably some day have to come to grips with the fact that educated people are able to grasp blocks of text that exceed '50' words. And as for Dennis Miller, as amusing as he is, he's more often than not these days simply 'reciting' what's been written for him. I actually wrote my response. And don't you think it's unpleasantly on par with the arrogance that many feel you've already displayed here to insist that people who respond to you 'limit' their responses to your criteria for a 'correct' response? Perhaps if you showed a little appreciation and acceptance, let alone understanding, of the many good responses that the Board's Grogs have already made for you? Seriously, Priest, kump, and even JasonC (in his own, Groggly way) attempted to answer your concerns. Others, while not addressing your specific concerns, were courteous to you and advised you to read more of the Forum and actually learn something about the game and the process that created it before you dismissed it. You acknowledged none of them, apparently because no one responded with what you wanted to hear. In general, this isn't a receptive Forum for those who insist others dumb down their responses to meet the requirements of arrogant half-wits. People with open minds, who actually read responses and take them into consideration, are treated very well. But be aware of this fact, lad. We're under no impetus to meet your 'requirements' as regards a response. And the least of your problems will be 'old, daft Seanachai' if you continue to piss people off.

But every critic with an organ, my dear Capt, is not a monkey. Trying to 'out-think' you? Hmm, perhaps I've been guilty of 'harshness' where you are concerned. Although I doubt it. Doubtless I will remain 'tragically average', but not for any reason you might come up with. And no one wishes to be 'normal', except normal people, and they invariably go mad, kill the wife, and feed her to the cat over a period of several months. Coventry has been called. I think, in this case, that the_Capt and I need to wrestle our various demons into submission before I can join in on such a call. Although I would take it as a personal favour if he would make a greater effort to avoid 'restricted' language. These rules, Capt are not fussy. Had you been here during the last meeting of the Olde Ones and the Minnesota Contingent (kudos to Dalem and Lars for going to the bathroom in the bathroom, which is more than Peng and Berli were capable of in our first get together, and that family across the ally still set's their dog on me every time I try to make it to my car...) you would have heard language after your own, anarchistic heart. But we, despite being the Peng Challenge, are still guests here. Within the culture that I was raised in, being a host is a sacred duty, and being a guest requires a similar committment. You can ask of Peng and Berli, Persephone and Joe Shaw, Dalem, Lars, and Shandorf whether I've attempted to be a good host when they've come to my hovel. And, as a guest of BTS, I don't think it's weak-willed lackeyism to expect members of the Peng Challenge Thread to observe a certain courtesy and acknowledgement of our host's rules. We bend, perforate, mutilate, and have a good slash on the rules far more than any other group on the Board would ever be allowed. But we're not discourteous, and we are not unappreciative. Do you think I haven't had my own sessions of 'wrestling with the whirlwind'? Perhaps you and I can achieve a certain 'wisdom' together. So, the_Capt, what shall we talk about next, eh?

Well, Berli told me about this thread, so I though I'd wander over and see how it was going. I'm quite proud to see the number of people (mostly Grogs, of course, or, at least 'CM' Grogs) who responded quite pleasantly to this young person and new arrival. Now, there was the point raised, of course, as to who would show up to hammer him into the pavement first, Grogs or Cess. This is a base libel. First, we of the Cesspool are not just a bunch of abusive thugs who automatically show up to belittle fools. It is true that we do not suffer fools lightly, and I am assuming that that is what the original poster was referring to. But that we, without any sense of charity or Forum feeling will show up to taunt and abuse? Well, that's just wrong. Secondly, the idea that any Forum Grog could get the jump on, or out-do, any member of the Cesspool when it comes to mocking idjits and half-wits, bespeaks a simple-mindedness that is almost 'magical'. Now, all that said, and while taking very good note of the courteous and thoughtful responses this (at least at the end of his post) heavy-handed newbie received, I do have to say that the following: was bloody rude. Therefore, since the courteous Grogs have had their chance to respond to this newest and most 'knowledgeable' and 'experienced' of our members, I shall now endeavour to give him a 'nice and courteous' Cesspool response. He chuckled to himself while he awaited the havoc his Lynx commander was about to execute on the lone bazooka that had the audacity and foolishness to confront his mighty, 20mm armed battlefield behemoth. The bazooka weilder had gone for that classic, 'gunfight at the OK corral' mode, the fool! And now that lone soldier was crouched merely meters away on the bowling lawn green of empty terrain, and he waited for the 20mm shells to impact the chest of the single figure that was crouching before his mighty AFV. But what was this?! His tank had fired, and there was no sudden eruption of blood and organs as the shells ripped into that figure that was all too clearly crouching only inches in front of his tank! A tank, by all the gods, any one of which could destroy any infantry formation that had ever existed, let alone kill this one, lone figure kneeling right in front of his armament! Fury tore through him! Cheated, by God! Screwed over by game makers who hadn't the least conception of what a 20mm cannon was capable of! He knew from his own endless personal experience of having actually fought in WWII, not to mention every major or minor conflict since, the personal interviews he conducted with survivors in all those battles, and the endless research he'd done, reading original, first-hand accounts, test ground reports, and innumerable histories, that there was simply no way a lone bazooka weilder could have survived long enough to take out a mighty Lynx! This was almost as bad as the survival of a lone HQ soldier against his 105mm AFV! Did BTS think he was a child! Some fool who was willing to pay $45(US, an actual freely convertible 'hard currency', not like 'Aussie Dollars') for a game that did not correctly model his own understanding of weapons capabilities?! Wait...perhaps, just perhaps...that lone bazooka weilder wasn't actually crouched on top a green ping pong table. And, just perhaps, his understanding of just how often 20mm and MGs actually connected with a lone individual was simplistic. And, equally, he'd been taking the entire, graphical representation of combat as being a Real Time, 100% accurate representation, and it turned out that that was mistaken (which would explain, for example, why his Machine-Gunner seemed to be merely 'strolling' away from danger, rather than dashing like an adrenalized gopher), but that rather it was merely an extremely good representation of what was occuring, then his anger knew no bounds!!! Grammont! Moylan! You bastards! You've tricked me! You and your efforts to bring to the computer a truly good wargame! Go on, you swine, call in your large, bald-headed freakish henchman and subdue me, but you'll never be able to stifle my cries of betrayal! I thought every time I issued a command, I was watching three, slow moving guys cross a bocchi ball court, and now you're telling me that it's actually anywhere from 1 to 12 guys making use of every available cover, not every square bloody inch of which is graphically represented on the screen of my (extremely mid-level, but far more capable than even a higher rated Windows PC box) Macintosh computer?! I will not rest until you, and all your works, are exposed for the misleading and inaccurate betrayals that they are! You fools! Did you think that I wouldn't see through your little ability to present to us the best wargame of its class in years, and not see where it didn't match my own almost completely non-sensical, illusory, and almost half-witted understandings of war and military equipment?! Grammont! Can you hear me, Grammont?! I'll find out where you live! I'll never rest until you've paid for each and every point at which my own stupidity isn't born out by this game! And your little Moylan too! Do you know, in all honesty, that when I first started playing the Demo, I was actually moving my units to take advantage of the cover represented by individual 'trees'? Good gods, did I feel like a half-wit when I realized that those 'graphical elements' merely represented modeled terrain types, rather than individual trees. That's why I normally feel everyone should show all courtesy to players who show up and display a certain 'innocense' regarding the game engine, graphical representation, and an actual, Real World™ appreciation of what weapons systems can actually achieve. Of couse, I think it behooves a newcomer to actually make some effort to understand these elements before becoming arrogantly dismissive. Seph should probably grab a big ol' handful of the same sort of 'sudden realization', and stop shouting about how he's paid big bucks for a 'real wargame' rather than his childlike understanding of what a real wargame is. Thank you, all, for your patience. The previous post has been a service of the Cesspool 'What Shall We Do With a Drunken Poster' emergency response network.

My God, Grog Dorosh, none of us realized that it had gone this far with you. Come back to the Cesspool, Michael. We can help you.

It would be quiet, if just once, and for even 60 seconds at a stretch, lad, you'd shut your cake hole! Christ on a crutch with St. Vitus' dance, I've had household pets with more patience than you lot.

Given my convict heritage, I'm obviously going through the purse looking for change to steal! Sheesh </font>

This is...this is... This is genius. The sudden juxtaposition of the faces, with the postures...it makes me weep with joy. The Aussie footer team horribly condemned to association with the Aussies of the Peng Challenge Thread, and all looking like the next album cover of the Spice Girls... In a single photo, Persephone has done more to 'Crush All Australians' than I have in many a game (except, of course, for my game against that Aussie half-wit AussieJeff, whom I beat like a gong...)

This was...potentially intriguing, but dim. I realize you're going on your own, lack-witted path to a story culminating in some sort of 'sudden revelation' which will make everyone swoon with insight. Except it won't happen. You're coming on gang-busters, lad, and have amended your original posts to the better, but you're still finding your feet. You've still got an obsession with defecation, you're still too wound-up with the possibility of ejaculation, and it's all too clear that your completely normal and even acceptable rebellion against authority has led you into a false position. We have our Satan, lad, our Storyteller, and our Peng, in a word. But all three wait for a Good Poster. For someone who can amuse, and dance, and, dare I say it, SING! You fail to address me, each and every time, with your ever improving posts. Improve yourself.

I'm not convinced. You Seanachai? Peng? Maybe if you poke him with a stick Seanachai</font>

Some quick notes while I'm actually able to get to the Internet: Welcome back, Kitty! Although you were away for quite a while, Mace never ceased mentioning your name. The candle he kept burning in the window for you was damn near blinding. It is just as well that you're back, though, because according to any number of his female co-workers, he's been seen mooning around houses of ill-repute. Make him amend his allegiance. JDMorse fella: I would be happy to resume attempting to place you on the ground at my feet with one foot atop you, striking that classic 'Big Game Hunter' pose. I will send you some sort of setup as soon as I actually have access to email again. If I do not achieve victory over you in our next match, I'm going to add up all the points I've been ahead of you in our innumerable draws, and use that as my score against your points in the draws in which you were ahead.

We pretty much had to advance him to Knight, Joe. It was one of those 'sorrow and pity' moves that arose when Berli and I realized he was from Ohio. As everyone knows, 'Ohio' is to America what 'England' is to cuisine. It also looks to me like Boo has been re-reading M.A.S.H. lately, from some of the versifying he's been doing. I'm still locked out of my MSN account. Their feeling seems to be 'hey, we're billing you for the access, what more do you want?' If they aren't able to get me online in the next day or so, I will start bringing my turns into my sister's office and sending them from there.

Dear God, what a horrible interface. I'm coming to you courtesy of some strange, local library web access. Tonight I attempted to migrate my ISP account over to MSN. Needless to say, I can no longer send or receive emails, nor access the Web except through this strange public library interface, which is just bizarre. Apologies on the lack of turns to all my opponents. Hopefully this will be resolved by tomorrow night.

Good God, we're not monsters! You needn't carry things this far. The rest all sounds about right, of course.

Since your 'questions' are rather oddly expressed, I imagine it will be difficult for most to give you a straight forward answer. When English is not your first language, the more simply and clearly you state your questions, the easier it will be for others or BTS to answer your concerns.

Wonderful. The Aussies are spitting and hair-pulling like a lot of aging street-corner whores. And over what? Their extremely bizarre sports. Me for bed, then.