Seanachai

Well, may I just say that I'm posting before even reading everything to get caught up, but I just want to vomit massively over the flood of lackwitted ****es that showed up to post on the first page of the new home. Leeo, although he largely seems to be an idjit, at least seems to be a devoted and evolved idjit who can follow an oft stated, recurring, and massively posted concept, which is: THE NEW HOME OF THE THREAD SHOULD HAVE 'PENG' AND 'CHALLENGE' IN THE TITLE. Peng does not even wish to be associated with this Thread any longer. That is, of course, not his choice. Much as I place Peng in the same class as my own internal fauna (for you non-Biologists, that would be the bacterial agents which aid me in digestion and are extremely important to me. Oh, and by digestion, read: aid me in dealing with the useless volume of ****e that appears here). Peng must acknowledge that he is no longer a free being. No, Peng old chum, you are a 'concept' now (I would share your pain, but, actually, I don't have to, so instead I will chuckle a bit and put on another 'Battlefield Band' CD). As such, Peng is no longer in control of the use of his own identity. But, you insufficiently evolved, pre-sentient poster children, that does not mean that the whole Thread revolves around PENG. Although, after consultation with various vile (and, if their emails are anything to go by, extremely drunk, attorneys) in compensation for the continued vulgar use of his identity, the entire Thread and everything in it does, in fact, belong to Peng. However, even the most useless, dim, pointless, and mentally challenged members of the Peng Challenge Thread should be able, at least once a fortnight, to grasp the F'ing fact that the new home of the Peng Challenge Thread should involve both the words Peng and Challenge. Have you lot no sense of place? No sense of community? No sense of Cess? This is a goddamn Challenge Thread, not some 'barometer of intelligence' to find how many posters can remember "another word other than the strange and humorous word Peng!" But never mind me. No, all you 'members' of the Peng Challenge Thread who haven't the goddamn brains to pour piss out of your own boot despite the fact that you've been informed that the instructions are printed on the bottom of the heel, please continue to impress us with the ability to post like Rommel25 or Maximus, or any number of other lackwits that show up here periodically to reassure everyone that they've proven themselves to be on the cutting edge of wanton stupidity, and can soil their own clothing without stopping to concentrate. You'll be in large company. I doubt we can get a group photo of you all, even using a fish-eye lens. Or even a view from space. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

My gods! It was Emma's Birthday?!!! Happy Birthday as well, from your undeserving but fond admirer. Also: Up the French! (no, Mace, not like that. It means 'let's hear it for them', not the other thing, so stop shouting, 'yeah, roight up 'em!'. It's vulgar.) ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 03-29-2001).]

Foobar, you poor, blind pissboy. The "Welcome to Hell" scenario was, as everyone should know, designed by your own beloved Knight sponsor Berli. I remember opening the file when I placed the units for the two of you, and laughing myself right off my chair. I can't begin to imagine what it's been like to play on that horror. Berli designed the map, but I purchased and placed your units. Also named. Apparently you two have noticed, at least to some extent, that all the vehicle commanders (and I believe some of the guns) are named after Peng Challenge Thread luminaries (you've noticed, apparently, Berli and Bauhaus, I believe I and Peng are playing for Roborat, but most of the long time posters are there on one side or the other). Also, may I just say, that I believe your's and Roborat's Squire Challenge has gone on longer than even my game against Goanna, which formerly set the standard for 'games that will never actually be finished, but finally somehow they are.' ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Please all note: Bauhaus is currently on vacation. Kindly direct all demands to 'Sit Down' to Mace, who will fill in on 'thingy fixation' duty until Bauhaus's return. Mace has, I believe, named his 'Plonk' for reasons that probably have something to do with a Dr. Seuss story. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

When I began the game, and heard the buzz of engines over my head, I thought: Ah! An opponent who has chosen Jabos. This will be a good learning experience, as I haven't often faced them. When I lost my first AFV to a Tiger, I felt a presentiment of doom, but congratulated myself on at least having hit it, though I accomplished nothing. When I realized that I was facing both a King Tiger, and a Jagd Tiger, I knew a certain resentment, but shrugged it off. The challenge is all, and some of the VLs were in terrain that could be defended, even against Ubertanks. When my last AFV died hopelessly, and when I'd exhausted my artillery without managing a track or gun hit, and I realized yet a third AFV was in play, as well as infantry, I knew that Meeks, perhaps in revenge for the entire 'Schism' episode, had come prepared to crucify me, pounding silver nails through my hands and feet. I was prepared for my martyrdom. I cast my eyes up to heaven (where that goddamn plane was still buzzing around, shooting the individual wheels off my support vehicles in a leisurely and arrogant way) I quivered with the anguish of combat and cried out "Peng, Peng, why hast thou forsaken me?" But amidst my suffering, suddenly one bright moment occurred! Meeks assaulted one VL with the the third AFV (a StuGIII), and a platoon of infantry, charging them in an insolent manner into my waiting infantry. It was classic! It was perfect! Right into the jaws of death, they charged, Oh Peng! And Lo! The were decimated! The infantry shattered! The StuG at risk! And I relaxed, ready to give up my soul, ready to let the Ubertanks roll over me. I had not fought in vain. Though over-matched, I had done what I could, and achieved this one good moment in an otherwise total loss. And I knew a moment of peace, there in the ruin of my game. And then, Oh Peng, did you see it? Did you read the next email? Turn your face away, thou that wouldst not hear it. Meeks tells me he felt the force selection was 'too gamey', and he had run the StuG III and infantry to their death on purpose! Is not my defeat, my pain, enough, but that like Herod he must mock my suffering?! Must my one bright, shining moment of achievement be rent from me, and cast back in my face with arrogant laughter (alright, he didn't actually laugh and mock me, he was rather nice about it, the useless sod, but I mean, really, why not just kick me in the groin)? Look not down, Oh thou heavens. Look away, Peng, thou fabulous swine. For here is a tale of the evil men (and, well, hamsters) do, the mockery, the abuse, and the trifling your servants must face in this vale of tears. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Also: Shandorf and DekeFentle: It is my belief that we are meeting at Kieran's tomorrow evening, correct? I have this creeping feeling that I may not have sent emails to you two acknowledging my readiness to be there. I will from home tonight, but I post here as a backup. However, as I work far west until roughly 5 or so, I probably won't be able to hit downtown until @5:30. Will be in further touch. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Here, now, I want the two southern boys to stop picking on Andreas and go sit in the corner! (Oh, sure, only Elijah's a true southern boy, anyone can tell that from the name: 'Elijah Meeks' just screams unrepentant southern lunatic. But Croda's from Pennsylvania, and I once heard someone describe that state as follows: "Between Pittsburgh and Philadelphia it's Alabama"). And I have played many of the Peng Challenge Thread inhabitants, and in order to set the record straight and as a public service, below I publish a list of those I found using gamey tactics: There, that should pretty much resolve the issue. I have another list, very slightly larger, titled "Useless Cretins That Have Beaten Me While Displaying Questionable Intelligence and Unremitting Luck". ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Oh, well, it was worth a try. Though I grieve for the lad, coming into his own in the Peng Challenge Thread with you as his patron. Soon he'll be posting long, turgid, wandering prose that never seems to quite come to any point, and wondering why friends and family slump into resigned listlessness whenever he begins to speak. I will have my revenge, though, Joe. You shall have the particular attention of my own posts, and I shall miss no occassion to comment on all that is unrighteous and contemptible in you. Either topic alone could keep me busy for life; taken together, they represent an Herculean task. But it shall be a labour of love... ------------------ Seanachai's Signature Space: Please all to note this empty space, scorned by that pompous toad Joe Shaw. Hard to believe that such a posturing lump would pass up any opening into which he might insert his foolish gibberish, at lengths that take away the average soul's will to live upon merely viewing, let alone actually reading. But Shaw chooses not an honest wager, but to clutch at what is "his" with greedy paws, and thereby deny a 'Squire' of the Peng Challenge Thread a better future with a better mentor, condemning him, in time, to become as loathsome as his grasping master. [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 03-24-2001).] [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 03-24-2001).]

So, it comes down to this, does it, Joe? "What's in it for me?" Why, sir, Honour! Or are you so dead to the concept of a challenge based on honour that you laugh with scorn, and rub thumb-and-fingers together in the universal sign for baksheesh?! I weep for this, the most grasping and vulgar of generations. I have informed you, in terms of gentle remonstrance, that you are no fit mentor to the 'Squire' known as Agua Perdido. With all his flaws, he needs another to help him achieve his true potential. Joe, Joe, you are still doing 'Wiley Coyote' post exchanges with the lad. He is, I think, perhaps capable of more than your 'Roadrunner Cartoon' approach to Squire actualization. Thus, I made my offer, in all fairness, in all honour. But I see now that a more 'substantial' offer (oh, that the pursuit of worldly gain should influence an august body such as ourselves) must be made. Therefore, Old Foul Joe, should I 'lose' our Quick Battle (such a concept; I laugh it to scorn, ha-ha!), then shall you take control of, and dictate my signature for one month (yes, the standard contract, and 30 days, not some fanciful lawyeresque niggle on 'calendars', and I trust you to be a gentleman). But because such contracts have become more common, and because you might feel that the loss of a promising 'Squire' is not commensurate with merely dictating a signature (and thereby continue to leave honour out of the calculation), I also put forward the offer that I will, for the same period of 31 days (calculated from day of Loss), always speak well of you in any of my posts, and acknowledge what would otherwise be anathema before all, that is, that Joe Shaw is a great guy. And, because here in the Thread of Threads, we have among us lawyers, shallow and soul-less manipulators, upon whom the light of day may not rise in Washington, DC without sending them scurrying and whinging to their offices to check their current billable hours, as a reassurance that Satan has not yet called in his marker, and they are still able to post in the Peng Challenge Thread. Just so shall I also pledge that during that same 31 day period, I will counter-post to anyone who speaks ill of you, and defend you and remind them of what a paragon you are (which will be a horrible and dreadful lie, but even the gods cast dice and by their play make fools of us all, so shall they forgive me my abasement, as they know what it is to lose a wager). Now, that is a better offer than you deserve, you poison-toad, and most of this exchange is to entertain the Knights of the One, True, and Revealed Thread. Things have been a bit slim, lately, what with all the mewling newcomers, and Priest's wandering inability to post an actual insult (good gods, is he an actuall priest? Couldn't he consult an excommunication to see how it's done? I can post a decent one for him, just so he can see how the unworthy can be cast into the pit and then urinated upon), and what with Swedes showing up and trying to post 'Ha Ha!' in a significant way. So, Shaw, what do you say? Do we have a wager? ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Sorry, Cyber Rat fella, but you have that wrong. Deke is the 'Whipping Boy' of the 'Pool (although self-proclaimed, it will stand). Bauhaus is our very first Saint. St. Bauhaus of the Immaculate Thingy. This also will stand. As will Bauhaus, whenever it is necessary to preserve the freedoms of those who would tell him to Sit Down! There is a complicated choreography to the Peng Challenge Thread. It is a dance that pleases not the eye, nor sets free the soul, but does, in fact, Stomp Upon the Terra. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

I rarely look at the pictures, lad, unless they have Aitkin's name on them. I've learned my lesson from Shaw (with proper treatment, many viewers of 'the Mormon Wives' may still be able to father children, but only if treated early on). ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

But, Priest, you're wrong, I do care. BECAUSE, YOU FECULENT BIT OF GOOSE ****E, YOU'RE TAKING UP VALUABLE PENG THREAD SPACE POSTING: USELESS BORING MEANINGLESS UN-INSULTING(HEAR IT NOT, OH MY SOUL) POINTLESS AND, MOST HORRIBLE OF ALL, MINDLESS DRIVEL! The rankest, most tedious, and un-evolved pissboy in the place is posting more interesting things than you've achieved. Is there a point to your shuffling about in here, grinning, bobbing yer head, and stopping just this side of COMMENTING ON THE GODDAMN WEATHER?!!! I want a THREE (not TWO, not ONE, not "Lorak, me toe licking buddy, isn't that charming Hamsters fella just a stitch') PARAGRAPH INSULT FESTIVAL THAT WILL REDEEM YOUR OTHERWISE SHOE-SCRAPING "OH, BUGGER, I SEEM TO HAVE STEPPED IN PRIEST'S MOST RECENT MR.-BLOODY-USELESS-ROGER'S-WANNABE POST" AGAIN! You are this far from singing 'Barney' songs. I want to see some hair, lad. Some sign of a posting personality more significant than another moon-faced request that someone help you tuck in your shirt, 'cause you feel all untidy. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

ROIGHT, THEN! JOE SHAW YOU HORRIBLE LITTLE MAN! I have noticed this latest round of feverish Squire clutching (now, nothing of 'country matters' here, you lot. Bauhaus, bless the vulgar and vile, that rose to their feet all aflutter) that has been, apparently and almost 'mystically', set off by Shaw. Apparently, after a long, hard winter (Genuflect, Bauhaus!), Spring is in the air (that's right, you toads, spring into the air and fall into the Cess), and I, most ancient, wise, and damn near as...no, I'm sorry, even I am not as pompous as Shaw; even I am moved by this sudden frenzy to mentorship. But what are the Old Ones to do? Potential Squires have been snatched up like discarded nub-end Havannas on a city street corner by 'rag and spray bottle' wielding Thunderbird-in-a-bag derelict Knights like Stuka and his ilk. Still, it's a sign of a healthily vile ecosystem, I believe, that those newly raised up from the mud in which they recently grovelled (while searching for something pointy to thrust into their Betters), are now stepping forward to have a slash on those who haven't yet gotten to their feet. Don't know if many of the Real posters here have read them (or if most of the posters here can, in fact, read) but the Peng Challenge Thread reminds me of a rather brutal parody of Sci-Fi writer David Brin's 'Uplift' series of novels. I could, at some length, explain the meaning of this analogy, even to those benighted souls who have not read the original novels. So, in fact, I shall. The concept behind Brin's rousingly fine novels is that no species arises to true 'sentience' without the aid of a 'patron' species. This process of patronage is termed 'Uplift', and by it species win big points in the Cosmos, as well as allies and clients that help secure their own position of dominance. This is a simplistic interpretation, of course, and therefore appropriate for many of the 'pre-Uplift' Squires to be found here. Now, all that said (and not at one tenth the length I'm capable of, you swine, if anyone wants to risk bringing on an even longer explication by annoying me) I will get to the thrust of my post (yes, Bauhaus, cue the choir!) Shaw, you Biohazard-Posting, Son-of-a-Mormon-Wannabe, Pontificating-Worse-Than-Me sack of ****e. You gamey, attritionist, recon-abusing (anyone else notice how the CM site has it's own schisms, it's own insults, it's own accusations of heresy?) Applicator of Silly Tactics. Bows You and I, Old Foul Joe (worthy opponents being, beyond the measure of the current generation of readers of this to judge) know Honour, and know Honour's demands. We know of Blood Hamster, we know of Challenges, we know of PENG, where PENG is the state of Cess. So, Shaw, you toad. We are currently involved in a game, where there is, as yet, no contact. I pose as the stakes of our game the Squireship of that loathsome neo-weasel Agua Perdido, he who came among us spouting Very Bad Prose. But who came spouting prose none-the-less. I claim, call you out, maintain, sir, that you are No Fit Mentor to a Squire of his realized/unrealized potential/lack-there-of. So, Shaw, what say you? Shall the winner take over the duties of kicking Agua Perdido around the 'Pool each day, while the loser looks on approvingly? Or vice versa? (edited to add one 'r' to a word, which, in a post of this complexity, makes me your master, and I await your obeisance...yes, I'll wait a little longer while you look that up) ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 03-23-2001).]

Wonderful. Dueling hormonal sycophants. The Peng Challenge Thread would like to apol...er disown, disavow, and disparage the preceding show of vulgar grovelling. Don't annoy the Aussies, lad. They leave disgusting exit wounds. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

You know, you want to hurl, but then you come to realize it's a sort of 'cosmic' grovelling and boot(spike-heeled)-licking, and you just stare in bemused horror, and, eventually, appreciation. I...I...I want to see Kitty make him do tricks. The real question, of course, is could Kitty make him slam Oz. Academic, of course, because as a 'top Sheila', it will never be put to the test. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Hell, another Swede. Geier! He's one of yours, take him in hand, or do somefink, will you? Actually, he doesn't read any worse than Mensch (or as Mensch did until the latest blow to the head brought us Menschspeare). As for no good spelling and grammar: have you read Shandorf? And he's a sodding Minnesotan, one of the chosen people of the gods. But behold you miserable little band of hamsters. I have the ultimate weapon that will make you tremble and beg for merci. You can beg but i will spare no one. Mark my words NO ONE ! I knew it, he's having us on. "Begging for Thanks", that's inspired. Where are The French?! Hitler had loots of Eyes of Divine Light I thought Goering did most of the looting... MadMatt I have mailed you a Save game and a picture of The Eye of Divine Light . Not because it's a bug, I just want you to fear me! Now there is hubris for you, and style. He wanders into the Peng Challenge Thread, silly little Squarehead that he is, and challenges the MaddModerator. Any resemblance between the spotter and me is merely coincidencial. Gah! Good for the Spotter then. Someone give the poor sod a game. If that is what he looks like in the Real World™, he deserves our pity and whatever we can do for him. Björn Elfström What, some sort of Swedish Elf? Lorak, is he one of yours, as well? ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 03-23-2001).]

Oh good God, Mensch has gone Shakespearian. Quickly! Consult the Book of Symptoms! ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 03-22-2001).]

You useless sack of ****e. Did you, perhaps, in your plunge to gamey AFV stardom (having chosen a Jagdtiger and King Tiger) notice that they were Churchill VIIIs?! Which is, shall we point it out, an Infantry Support Tank? Which means, you shameless toad, that they pack @3-8(maximum) 'C' (hollow charge) rounds each? And that their supposed massive armour is largely unsloped and pointless when confronted by 2 AFVs with 88mm guns? Your attempts to assuage your conscience over this setup are duly noted and spat upon with scorn. How like you, Meeks to seek to blame the victim. That said, come and dig my infantry out, you chattering fish-bucket licker. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 03-22-2001).]

Bless you, you useless sod. That's the first truly good laugh I've had in many days. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Our game was never closed. It sits waiting, patient as a dog at the pound, one that will never go for the injection. But Phillies Phan? Really, Hiram, that's just so silly. And you were welcomed in, lad. We all liked you (eventually) and we all welcomed you in. 'Course, that said, it's a lot like getting a big hug at a leper colony and a french kiss at the free clinic, but there you go. The Peng Challenge Thread embraces the prodigal son. What it does to the penitent isn't to be thought upon. 'Mea Culpa' is for losers. 'I'm back' is for Cesspoolers. Look at Meeks, the useless toad. He should be nuzzling all of our insteps and making little whining noises for forgivnance. Instead, he's cheating horribly and abusing me in a PBEM, the schismatic bastard. Rather like him, though. Hope to attend his funeral one day. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Oh, and lads, I see that Rommel22 has shown up (again? I can't recall. Many useless ****es drop in periodically because their lives are so empty and otherwise meaningless that causing annoyance to others is more exciting than actually achieving something). This particular defective fancies himself some sort of 'aryan exemplar', and periodically stands up on his hindlegs and brays for recognition while defending the rights of some of the lower-life new arrivals to posture and abuse and demand that others admire them and acknowledge their right to be morons. He's almost never had anything of value to say, that I've read, but much abuse to load on others, and fancies himself enough that he probably doesn't need any other partner. Having gone to greater lengths than he deserves to catalogue him, I'd ask all the lads and lassies here to ignore him, and not respond. I'm sure there's a bridge quivering at the thought of him crouching below, and he's apparently too dim to consider that his choices are either be ignored and move on, or make a nuisance of himself to the point where even in these more relaxed precincts he's required to move on. Let him go. He works retail. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Stop that! You do not "kick ass". You barely scuffle about with one foot, eyes downcast, and mumbling. Behave yourself. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Here now, David. Except for some the bitter parts, this is amongst your best prose bits. Oh, and Stuka, you loveable but extremely dim Aussie, David's been with us for donkey's years now. I remember when he first showed up, and I thought 'here, sod that for a lark, isn't that Aitkin? Strike me as stupid as Rommel22 if it isn't. I never thought we'd see an artist in here, sod me for a sheep else' I said to meself. But you know, it was Aitkin. And we've been enjoying the man's artwork ever since. Mind, he seems a bit unstable, in some ways. But most of it seems attributable to sleep deprivation, caffeine abuse, and the odd other chemical. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Aren't there windmills, as well? Think on the windmills in Don Quixote; what a lovely passage. Of course, the Spanish did quite horrible things to the Netherlands during that period when they held sway. Ah, well, all friends now, eh? Silly Dutch person, this is the Peng Challenge Thread, and, like Evil Mardi Gras, it's come to your dear little nation. Best to go home, sit by the fire, brood on the injustice of being constantly referred to as 'the Low Countries', and plot some sort of appropriate revenge. Like Amsterdam! That'll teach 'em! Make every major airline fly through, so that every tourist arriving at any other point in Europre arrives ripped to the gills! ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues

Hmmm. Also: I see. Iskander has done fair duty here tonight (or freaking whatever, I can't keep checking when or where I am), and justified his continued existence. This one, Leeo, though it has shown enthusiasm all emphatic, does not yet impress. How is it that so many who claim responsible employment don't display the intellectual development of the average house-pet? Why is it so many house-pets are forced to come to me and ask: "how is it that your species has come to dominate the planet, given postings like Leeo's that, with a paw tap, we can bring up on the monitor?" All I can reply is: be patient. Either posters like Leeo will evolve, or they'll provide sustenance for more deserving entities. Preferably the latter. ------------------ Tremble, tyrants and you perfidious opprobrium of all the parties, Tremblez! your parricidal projects finally will receive their prices! But these sanguinary despots, But these accomplices of Berli, All these tigers which, without pity, Bauhaus the centre of their mother! We will enter the career When our elder is not there any more, We will find there their dust And the trace of their virtues