Seanachai

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!

THAT'S IT, BY GOD, I'VE HAD ENOUGH! Persephone, Goddess, please return his nadgers to him, as this Yeknod creature is clearly a donkey on the edge. I'm for bed – YOU, YEKNOD, THAT'S NO CUE FOR YOU, YOU CONFLICTED CREATURE! YOU STAY THERE WHERE I CAN SEE YOU! – and tomorrow will be a better day. Or at least, another day. A man does his best, brings song and story to a lot of benighted toads, opens a whole world of mythology and magic to halfwits who think knock-knock jokes are the height of sodding humour, and what's he get? Followed around and nattered at by some sort of smitten mule whose dangly bits are in the keeping of the Queen of the Underworld...I just don't know what the 'Pool is coming to, I really don't. Time was when one of the Olde Ones could wander out into the Wasteland, have a bit of a song, and not have to deal with this sort of thing. Bugger, I'm knackered. Me for bed.

And so we've had, another night of poetry and poses and each man knows he'll be alone when the sacred gin mill closes and so we'll drink, the final glass each to his joy, or sorrow and hope the numbing drunk will last until opening tomorrow and then we'll stagger, back again like paralytic dancers each knows the questions he will ask and each man knows the answers... Originally posted by Yeknodathon: If I went to Minnesota, could drop in to see nice Uncle Seanachai and watch him knit as he takes the Minnesotan stance... standing up... oh, better not... over there? I shall retire to me toilet... Idjit Yeknod FREAKING HELL, ARE YOU AT IT AGAIN?!! QUIET, BY GOD, QUIET! Christ on a defective crutch...where was I at... ...and so we'll drink, the final drink that cuts the brain in sections where answers never signify and there aren't any questions I broke my heart, the other day it will mend again, tomorrow if I'd been drunk when I was born I'd be ignorant of sorrow and so we'll drink, the final toast that never can be spoken here's to the heart that's wise enough to know when it's better off broken... That was horrible, simply bloody horrible. Man comes in here to have a mournful, thoughtful sing-song, singing a fine old Dave Van Ronk tune, and some Limey mule natters on through half the song. Just bloody horrible. [ February 02, 2002, 04:52 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Winecape, my merry man, I also majored in Political Science, specifically concentrating in International Relations and Comparative Politics. It is not that we are suspicious or skeptical people. It is just that we've the training to realize most folk are bloody idiots, all nations are led by criminals, and no one wants to pay for the garbage to be picked up. That said, I shall keep a keen eye out for this friend of yours.

Sounds of a braying ass WHAT THE HELL?! WASN'T I JUST AFTER COMMENTING ON HOW PEACEFUL IT WAS HERE! SHUT YER HAY HOLE, YEKNOD, AS I WAS ABOUT TO ATTEMPT TO ACHIEVE THAT LOVELY, ECHOING QUALITY OF A PEACEFUL SING-SONG IN THE ALL BUT EMPTY THREAD! Bloody hell.

Ah, 3 AM early Saturday morning, local time. Everywhere else, folk are asleep, except for the Australians, who are already too drunk to post. It's so peaceful here.

Be quiet! You haven't been here long enough to discuss Minnesotans. Go stand over there, in the dusty part of your paddock, and contemplate where 'glue' comes from.

Never mind, I found it on my own. All I had to do was look for a thread where you and Dalem where doing an Abbot and Costello routine while juggling weapons that I wouldn't allow either of you to view in a display case at an historical museum, let alone own. I posted my own thoughts. And while I imagine I'd disagree with you and Dalem on many, many points, I found your 'opponent's' posts to be arrogant, abusive, and ill-considered. On the other hand, as you two Hardy Boys were posting responses to him in a restrained, but chortling 'Peng Challenge Thread' style, its no wonder that he was beginning to froth a bit at the mouth in frustration.

Wow - you mean you're going to get involved in a historical discussion with us, Seanachai? I was under the impression your forte was "sterling wit" and "reducing people to tears in the Peng Thread."</font>

Slapdragon, Dalem attend: Which 'Brian' thread, you two sniggering halfwits? Perhaps the rest of us might check into?

Ah, strong words. Not particularly intelligent, but in many circles they'd be regarded as 'fighting words'. But, let me see...yes, I did have a game with Croda. I remember it as 'Croda Hill', in which the Swineherd attempted to defend a prominent elevation with two of every type of German Tank (short of King or Jagd Tigers). And, as I remember, in the late stages of the game, when most of his armour was abandoned, knocked out, in flames, and what infantry he had was cowering hundreds of meters from their original positions...he went off to play twitch games and perform some sort of 'religious retreat' from Combat Mission. Or, perhaps, he was on a religious retreat from being beaten like a snare drum. I believe, if it will not bring back memories painful enough to once again send him into catatonic retreat from playing CM, that I still have that game. Croda, esteemed Swineherd, should I send you the last turn I have from the game that you scampered away from, unfinished, with your hands over your ears chanting 'la-la-la I can win playing First Person Shooters, and I really am still a man'? For this 'beast of burden' it would bring a certain sense of 'closure' to that chapter of...er, 'cowardly abandonment'.

It would, I suppose, come to this someday. The Dalem, the only breed of earless dog, would rise up on its hind paws, and yap at me in what it probably imagines is a menacing way. Dalem, I find no reason to deny you a game. Well, other than your execrable misuse of the term 'persiflage'. Still, you have become a Landsmann, and have haunted these depths for some time now. So I shall grant you the blessing of having played all of the Olde Ones. I hope by my actions to redeem our august personages from your boastful and disrespectul posturing. You may send me a setup, worm. I agree to no snow (since you are only a Minnesotan by recent adoption, you are too weak to survive in such a combat environment). Not more than 1500 points, and try not to do yourself too much discredit by rigging, deceit, and shameless loading. As Croda has taken your ears, so I shall take your tail, hound, and amuse myself by wagging it before your nose whenever you direct your whining my way. [ February 02, 2002, 02:24 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Again, as in your other post, you are posting wholesale material from some source. Please be so good as to attribute it.

You might want to actually attribute that excerpt to its source, rather than simply posting it.

It's hard to believe 'Brian' is an Australian. I mean, Simon Fox is opinionated and extremely sarcastic, but he has a sense of humour. As far as I can tell, 'Brian' has no sense of humour whatsoever.

Should he ever show up in the Peng Challenge Thread, he will not leave until he is traumatized and in tears.

My gods, no! Don't pander to that nation of drunkards and marsupials! Half the fun of owning CMBO was coming to the Board each day and reading the 'Any CM In Australia Yet' thread and giggling at the wailing of the Aussies.

Well, hard to say. What are you on about? Oh, is this perhaps yet another slap at the endlessly opinionated 'Brian'? You might make some such indication in your post, you pillock. In a Thread filled with people abusing each other, unattributed abuse is simply confusing.

The Gary Shandling of the Cesspool bounces in to commment on a yet to be completed game against one Australian, and suddenly he's the Terror of the Marsupials. I've no doubt, Lars, that they're all climbing inside their own pouches for fear of confronting you. Although whether that's because of your putative CM abilities, or the fear that you might once again be so drunk on some liquor that you cannot even pronounce, that you might get maudlin with them, and begin hugging, and weeping, and slobbering all over them, calling them 'buddy' and 'brother', and attempting to borrow money. Currently, I am doing fairly well against AussieJeff. And I defeated Speedy. Some of the other Aussies have been a bit more troublesome. And some, like yourself, are posturing and preening over a possibly 'imminent' single victory against the UberGnome. For many of them, of course, just the opportunity to play an individual such as myself is a rare treat, so we cannot blame them if even a single victory quite goes to their head and they imagine themselves to be Alexander himself, with one furry paw pressed against the throat of the world, and as puffed up with pride as though they'd knocked off a whole two-four of their nation's hops and barley holy water. [ February 01, 2002, 06:38 PM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

How reassuring to find that Croda lives in a place where families have 'pigs'. Here I know people who have dogs, and cats, and sometimes rodents or reptiles, but none who keep hogs in their home. But there, Croda lives in some primitive portion of Pennsylvania, does he not? Some rural hamlet near Peng himself? Doubtless Hiram sends occassional Red Cross relief packages over to him from New Jersey, with the latest magazines from civilization, and forms to fill out asking UNICEF to send relief workers.

A man who would spend that length of time pleading to avoid the single second of time it should take him to deal with a compressed file is a man who will spend eternity partnered with the 'Irish Elk' in the Wax Museum of Evolutionary Dead Ends. You might consider, Slapdragon, whether I compress files in order to save a bit of space, or whether it's to determine which of my opponents foul themselves when confronted by a simple technological task. Now, lad, I promise 'no more confusing and awkward file formats'. Unfurrow your brow, stop pouting, and go change your trousers.

Some small noise has been made of late regarding Squire 'Quests' (no, Bauhaus, we are not speaking about 'Johnny Quest's father in England'. Er, yes, Bandit was a very good dog. Now be quiet.) Therefore, attend, Bilgerat, and my own good Squire, Sledge59. I wish you, Sledge59, to offer combat as the French, in order to make this Bilgerat fellow come forward and play a game. Also, just so that the amenities are observed, and so that he has no room to hem and haw, I wish you to taunt him in a right Froggy fashion, in order to heat his blood and stir him to the utmost willingness to combat. Bilgerat, please note that shortly my Squire shall taunt you in a fashion befitting the French, and shall take the role of the French in his game with you. Should you then ignore his Challenge, or decline combat, or otherwise piss around like some Portsmouth tart, we of the Peng Challenge Thread can only conclude that you are unfit to serve, and remand you to a prison hulk in the estuary, or, worse yet, Transport you to Australia.

Ah, I've finally appeared, have I? Then send a bloody turn! I've taken to actually sending my next turn without waiting for yours, which is no mean trick, and the only way the current game will be finished within the lifetime of an aging ÜberGnome. [ February 01, 2002, 01:01 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

Duck? Don't flatter yourself, sir. You merely interrupted us during our orisons. Now, having addressed myself to Slapdragon ( I assume we've all given up raising points of order regarding his status, and just bold him now because it's easier than listening to him gibber on about his status as a Knight), I feel it is necessary to point out one or two things about the experience of playing him. My many opponents know that I am in the habit of numbering turns sequentially (if, for no other reason, than out of fear that Elvis will somehow be established as a cultural norm), and that, at the end of those turns from myself, I append a lower case 's' to indicate 'Seanachai'. This is a quick aid to myself when checking turns. For example, I often find that my current system, in which folders are organized by 'modified on' date, sometimes turns up anomolous results when playing the Australian Curse, as their turns appear designated as modified 'tomorrow', 'next week', or 'last whitsunday if the moon was full in Christchurch, sod those Kiwi swine'. This because, of course, time is relative, if not completely meaningless in the 'Lucky Country', where the longest measured period of time is 'when did I last have a beer?' So, by making it quickly clear which turns had been played by myself, no matter whether they appeared earlier than my opponents supposed 'return file', I could easily keep track of what was what. Enter Slapdragon. His lance like intelligence apparently immediately caused him to conclude: "Ah, I see. Seanachai labels his turns with an 's' for Seanachai. Therefore, in keeping with the system and to help keep my turns straight, I will lable mine with an 's' for Slapdragon." And the gods wept. Or, the pudding in his head held the following conversation: "My very beloved opponent Seanachai apparently prefers that a lower-case s be added to the files. I'll not stop and wonder why that might be, for any conclusion I might reach would doubtless merely reveal me as an ignorant pillock. Therefore, and to stay on the good side of this being whose boots I am not fit to lick, I will make sure to add that 's' to all my turns as well, thereby propitiating the ÜberGnome." In any case, the result is the same. I have been left sitting, chin in hand, contemplating whether evolution is really a linear process. I'm sure that where Slapdragon lives, the term 'evolution' isn't even taught in the schools, so he'll be left mystified by my last remark. Or perhaps he'll take note, ponder for a short time, and then begin appending a small 'e' after the 's' on his turns. Which would, at least, distinguish them from mine. [ February 01, 2002, 12:47 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]