Seanachai

Well, I'm about half way back. I can now post from home. Soon I will send turns out from home. There are still issues. But I'm in there pitching. Now, on more significant issues: Hiram? What is the meaning of this departure? Do you no longer find us entertaining? Relevant? Cuddly? I cannot accept this departure. Please email me instanter about your departure and the attendant reasons connected thereto. I do not accept this. A page without Hiram is like a day without sunshine. That is, normal, unlikely to increase the chance of skin cancer, but less cheerful. Am I correct, in my rather limited ability to garner facts, that you are currently unemployed? I discovered this Board and began this Thread under the very same circumstances. Take heart, lad, anyone who can party with Peng and Elvis is not a being whose talents will go unrewarded by our current economic system. Remember, lad, before departing the Peng Challenge Thread, take in to account the wise words of an old friend of mine: 'Never make a life decision in February.' Lorak, thank you for your heartfelt and unreserved footnote acknowledging my return. If there was any chance in the multiverse that I could steal your beautiful wife away from you, I would actually hesitate for a count of 6 before the attempt, so deep is the esteem I hold you in. It would have been a count of ten, but then, I've seen pictures of your wife. For the rest of you, I very much doubt that any gods have watched over you during my absence. In point of fact, any of you that felt a warm, golden, misty feeling during this interregnum of my absence...well, the gods were having a slash on you. Go shower, and await my more significant posts. ------------------ 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

Well, if Berli will play, than who am I to say nay? Seanachai is the Irish Gaelic word for 'Storyteller' or 'Bard'. Actual Gaelic speakers like the absent Fionn Kelly, or purists, would probably point out that the now standardized spelling is 'Seanchai'. Bugger that. Just pop on by the Peng Challenge Thread, and you'll mainly find me called 'Senility'. It's all Peng's fault, the swine, but it's as apt as anything else in the universe. ------------------ 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

Good God, do you know how long it took me to find this place? I kept wandering around north, and the damn Thread had headed east. Who put Mensch in charge? The man can't evacuate his bladder without psychotic outbursts. Where is Hiram going? I'm about to concede defeat on my haphazard attempt to get my modem working with OS 9 and return to 8.6 (if I still can). Hopefully back up and returning turns and posting again within a day or two. I was out sick sick sick for the last four days, no email, no internet, snowstorms, unable to sit in a chair at the computer. I hate you all, and upon my return here I find everything to be as loathsome as I remember. It will take me some time to get caught up on the transported Thread, so if anyone's insulted me specifically, it might be a few days until I can tell you specifically what a pillock you are. As for those who contacted me or have commented derisively about my computing skills, I hope a duck enters your body in a unique and non-traditional way. It's very difficult to solve computer problems when one cannot even sit upright. My return here will, doubtless, provoke much rejoicing. I look forward to your effusive 'welcome back, Seanachai, you credit to us all', and 'Lord love a duck, what a joy that Seanachai's returned! Life had lost meaning without him,' comments, not to mention the relieved expressions on all your wee, rat-like faces. I did, upon returning to work, get turns from most of you. ------------------ 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 02-13-2001).] [This message has been edited by Seanachai (edited 02-13-2001).]

I have been to a hell that most of you will never see. I am attempting to read and post to the Thread through a public library text/web interface. Hiram...Lorak...help me. I am still without internet service...I thought it would be a rest, but this is horrible. Isn't that Berli I see before me? To all my opponents...some turns tomorrow. I don't know how long I can hold out like this. Better, perhaps, to end it all. Perhaps on Valentine's 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

Hem. It seems this was not the weekend I should have picked to upgrade my system software. The result, I spent the entire weekend alternately cursing Apple and AOL, but, upon mature reflection and much trouble-shooting, I apologize to Apple and scream j'accuse! at AOL. I am presently, and have been since Friday night, without email or internet service. My opponents (such as they are) have not received turns, nor could I collect theirs. I could not read, nor post to the Peng Challenge Thread. I could not send emails to many awful human beings instructing them to cease doing anything that annoys me. I now find that there was an outburst of...let us call it very ill-mannered high-spirits here in the Thread. It seems to have passed, and things have returned to normal. As it should be, we will weather this storm, and return as hated as ever. Glad to see that everyone has kept their grip. Now, we have, in addition to this most beloved of fatal shores a new place to post, provided by the wily Croda (it would be Croda, now wouldn't it?). There, those who feel the need to go quite beyond the pale of the day to day taunting, and venture into topics whose vulgarity or viciousness might sterelize lab rats, can swan on over and unleash their most loathsome instincts. I might wander by there myself. Or I will, as soon as I am actually able to get bac online. Currently, I am restricted to access at work, and then only if I stay here late. Right now the maintenance people are rolling their ashcans through, emptying the bins and tidying up unattended copies of software CDs, and giving me that look reserved for people who apparently have no lives, and no warm and caring 'other' to hurry to when the long work day is done. This is not, of course, a look of sadness, nor commisseration, nor even pity. It is the look of 'you pathetic loser, isn't there some place you could be besides this empty, overlit office with only the cleaning staff to give a quick nod of acknowledgement to your existence? Die a lot now.' How sad. I shall now shuffle home, perhaps stopping at some tacky newstand, there to buy the latest, flimsy and poorly printed copies of 'Grog Porn', 'Grog Porn XXX' and 'Hot Young Teen Grogs'. That, and a bottle of something so cheap and vile that even Peng Challenge Thread posters would rather go sober than touch. Later, this night will find me sitting in front of a computer with no internet access, glassy eyed and lonely, singing "Take Her In Yer Arms And Show Her That Ya' Love Her" amid broken glass and crumpled and shredded glossy paper, watching the CM intro movie over and over and fantasizing about...well, it might not be politic to say. Ta' all, must sod off before the liq closes... ------------------ 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

Hey, Berli, seeing as how you were handing out fiefdoms in Hell the other day (to attractive women only, so far), if I set Bauhaus on fire can I be made Earl of the circle of Hell where you keep the bad Popes and the Republican ex-presidents? ------------------ 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 02-02-2001).]

Besides starting the first Thread, I've restarted it at least 3 other times. This Thread has borne my name more than any other individual's, or even all the others put together. And I do have complaints. My needs are not being met. Those posting here are not telling me often enough, or even at all, that I'm handsome, and a fine figure of a man. It matters not that neither are true. I am also not receiving significant sums of cash in the mail (even though my postal address has, in fact, been posted here). Despite all that I have done to this Thread...er, for this Thread, I receive no thanks, no friendly slap on the back, no promises of eternal gratitude. When things get tense around here, who's always ready to leap in and bore everyone to tears until no one can remember what the fuss was about in the first place? Who has personally paid out of pocket for Mensch's meds (talk about throwing good money after bad), having the Brick continuously restored, and bribed Madmatt to take the Thread away from the Aussies? Who has said a prayer and offered up small animal sacrifices for each and every established member of the Peng Challenge Thread? Myself, Seanachai, that's who. Now, everyone say it: "Hoi, there, Seanachai, you're a handsome devil and a fine figure of a man, thanks, chum, there's a little token of my appreciation headed yer way in the mail, just a fiver or so, and you've got my thanks, lad, for all the fine things you've done. If you're ever in (insert hellhole you're inhabiting) stop on by, chum, and I'll treat you to a stand up meal." listens attentively Not all at once, now. Silence Oh, bugger. How 'bout just promising not to do any of the things Kitty talked about in her post to Peng? ------------------ 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 02-02-2001).]

Well I'm buggered. That is one of the funnier bloody things I've read on this Thread. If I send him $20 will Lawyer spit on me? Or is that too personal, and the best I can hope for is that he'll have a hireling come by and do it for him? ------------------ 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

Good Lord, what a hideous thought! A joyful, quiet Peng? I'd rather have a live weasel shoved up my arse than contemplate such a thing. For that matter, the weasel would feel much the same. Neither of us would have a clue as to how to carry on, if Peng suddenly became a cheerful, hail-fellow-well-met type. You must remember that under that crusty exterior, there lurks a heart of plutonium. Exposure should cause hair to fall out, gums to bleed, and we don't even want to think about the discharge from the intestinal system. I'm sure you mean well, young fellow me lad, but you have to think these things out. Peng isn't Mr. Rogers, and this isn't a lovely day in the neighbourhood. This is the Peng Challenge Thread, and part of the challenge is Peng himself. ------------------ 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

Ah, we post in the Cesspool it's a place of sordid beauty we're a noxious vulgar crew but attentive to our duty when the taunts fly free in the Cesspool we'll be we post fifty times a day when the tauntings rather slow to our games we all go we've plenty of time play Beware! Beware! The taunts fly free! Beware! Beware! That's where we'll be! We post a hundred taunts a day! Ah, we post for Mr. Peng though he hates us all like plague rats yes we mock and lie and sing and we boast about our combats ah we laugh and taunt, and our prowess we flaunt both in the game and beyond we could rectify his frown if we'd all just go drown in the nearest sewage runoff pond Ahoy! Ahoy! At our deaths he'd smile Ahoy! Ahoy! Under murky waters vile We'd bring a smile to the face of Peng! Turn was sent before you posted, old chum. Sent it to your work address by mistake. ------------------ 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

Sad to say, Lorak, that Chrisl, he of the unimaginative nick, did indeed defeat me. It was an Axis minor victory, but he was, in fact, a gentleman and allowed a cease-fire. I believe he might have done somewhat better, at least bettered the point spread if he'd flogged on, but he acknowledged that victory was enough, and did not insist on a surrender. Mind, both sides were pretty well shot out by the time we called this one, but he definitely had the edge. He firnly held the major VL; I couldn't have put together a corporal's guard of troops on that side of the map, let alone mounted any sort of counter-attack. I believe I could have retained control of the minor VL, although there opinions might differ. For me, the joy of this game, besides the fact that it was hard fought on both sides, was the sturdy job my troops did against his armour and armoured cars. Mind, one Pzkw IV did bog in the snow, but the others were all disposed of by my brave defenders. Of course, all my armour died as well, but that's nothing new. So give Herr Chrisl his victory, and let me just say that he was an honourable opponent, and my only regret is that I wasn't in a position to reach up and pull his still beating heart out through his arsehole. ------------------ 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

Actually, Andreas, I don't think that one was Thatcher. I believe that was originally a quote from our very own, unlamented Spiro Agnew. It was he, as I remember, that came up with the 'nattering nabobs of negativism' back when he was the 'keep the mob distracted' dancing bear of the Nixon administration. ------------------ 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

Tell them the best place to get a PBEM is the Peng Challenge Thread, where all you need do is show up and be polite and friendly, and people will give you a game. ------------------ 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 I found the very nice quote that I was looking for for that very nice Grog chap, Slapdragon. "I learned three things in Zurich during the war. I wrote them down. Firstly, you're either a revolutionary or you're not, and if you're not you might as well be an artist as anything else. Secondly, if you can't be an artist, you might as well be a revolutionary...I forget the third thing. Travesties -Tom Stoppard Now then, lad. Bugger off. I'm going to institute a new first for the Peng Challenge Thread. I'm not going to challenge you to a PBEM. I'm not going to challenge you to a discussion of what lock-nut went missing on the Ausf. B version of your posting 'why I should be allowed to claim dominion and make an arse of myself in the Peng Challenge Thread'. No. All these things aren't part of my metier, and prove nothing, here where people quote Shakespeare (often poorly), while wiping their noses on other people's sleeves. If you wish to pull together your own gang of bully-boys, and make puffery references to Avignon, and proclaim a new, knightly order, and hand out titles and honours like some new warlord come calling on Empire, then I challenge you, lad, to a battle of quotes, references, taunts, and face slapping. It's about time the higher orders of this Thread (that would include myself), met you young turks in a battle of wits and erudition. After all, if we make the Squires and Squire wannabes cavort for our amusement, should not we, who claim a higher standing on the evolutionary scale, also prove ourselves from time to time, matching each other only with our razor wits, acquired knowledge, and general disdain for all that is mundane? The choice, little grad student, is yours. Amuse us with your method of attack. Prove yourself worthy of the Peng Challenge Thread, and taunt, posture, create, and quote in a frenzy that shall show others how it should be done. I toss down the gauntlet. The rather unhappy noise you just heard was the fact that I always try to hit Bauhaus when I toss the gauntlet down. Serves the nasty little beggar right. Life, literature, history, and the entire Combat Mission Board are at your disposal. I don't think you have it in you, lad. Our peers (such as they are) shall judge our passage. ------------------ 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 01-31-2001).]

Bugger off, you sycophantic little mooning- over-pretty-women git. Kitty is more than welcome to start up the next incarnation of the Peng Challenge Thread, so long as 'Peng Challenge Thread' appears with Kitty's whatever in the topic. Here in the most massive, vile, and insidious thread to ever plague a message board, we have certain standards. First, "The name goes on, before the quality goes in". Second, piss off if you're not going to make an acceptable taunt and aren't seeking a game, you randy little tourist. Now, while it's true that this might be the New, Revised, and More Open Peng Challenge Thread, we don't have to deal with tour groups and those on day-release from half-way houses. ------------------ 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

The Wasteland, Everywhere. Endless nothing, except for a line of greenery and blue sky far off on one horizon. Three figures shamble into sight. One is dark, towering, and veiled in smoke, one is stern, unsmiling, arms crossed in judgement, and one looks like an unkempt old man, who's singing a rather odd song about whether New York girls can do the polka. They all look a bit knackered, and stop for a moment to knock back a few quart bottles of Belgian beer, panting, and looking around. Peng: Bugger, this business of waiting in the wilderness for the rest to create the world is getting to be a goddamn marathon. What the hell's going on? Seanachai: It's that Mad, Bald-headed Git. He's booting their arses along at a rare pace, that he is. As quick as they settle in to their new, shiny, Dreamtime habitrail, he comes along and shifts them on like a gang of tinkers. Used to be they'd come up and spend a couple hundred posts creating the new lands. Now, anyone spends that long exploring the wonders of creation, and they're trampled when the Big Trooper shows up. Berli: It matters not. All will be undone in the end. As fast as it's created, it dissolves behind them. Only memories remain, mocked and abandoned. Peng: All very well for you, Berli, who's province is chaos and evil. But I'm starting to cough up a lung, here. How can I sit in judgement of the useless bastards when I can barely keep ahead of them? Seanachai: It is getting to be a hard pull, and that's a fact. Wish the Bald One would cut us some slack. Berli: He has his reasons. Peng: True, sod him. Look there, to the south. Is that Meeks? Seanachai: No, Meeks is always stumping along to the East of us, shaking his fist. Look, over there by that mound of nothingness. See? He's giving me the finger. Peng: That's Meeks, alright. So who's catching us up? Seanachai: Ummm, I think it's Croda. And that new wank, the Lawyer. Oh, hell, it's not, it's Slapdragon. Peng: The Too Live Krewe wannabe? Why's he pushing the pace? Seanachai: He claims to be an educator. Or at least some sort of Academia Drone. True educators are pretty scarce on the ground, these days. Anyway, he's after our jobs. Peng: What, hanging around here in this sodding wasteland, you singing gibberish, Berli smiling because someone's just kacked, and me having to review the uselessness of their entire existences? What's he going to do with it? Seanachai: He wants to have a revolution. The usual, hand out fiefdoms, crush his enemies, proclaim a New World Order, while buffing his nails and waiting for the acclaim to roll in and nubile young women to fall adoring at his feet. Peng: Son of a bitch, when did we get that? Seanachai: Oh, Peng, we never got that. Oh, I remember one time YK2 told me I was sweet, and once Hiram told me I wasn't a complete arsehole, but I think that's about it. Most people at least have a certain reverence for you. Even Slapdragon treats you with reserve, and Meeks knows that the way to power is through invoking your name. It's all good. Peng: Bugger. So why don't we just let them have it? Seanachai: Well, actually, we already have. That's why we're out here in the desert, don't you know, trying to keep ahead of them. It's their's to create, now. Peng: But half of them are useless wanks! Seanachai: Of course, Peng. But they can evolve. Why, look at Marlow. Or Croda. And they rise, or they fall, but they keep us on the move, that they do. Berli: In the end, they all come to me. Seanachai: Yes, that's the nice part. Makes all the rest of it worthwhile, knowing how things end up, don't you know. Peng: Here, what's being created next? Seanachai: Er, lets see...In the next few hours of posting, this will be...Canada. Peng: Canada?! Berli: Canada? Seanachai: Yes checking rune stones, the Ching, and several tomes the Peng Challenge Thread, on its Walkabout to create the entire world by the use of Combat Mission, will create Canada here...in the next 15 minutes. Peng: Bugger Berli: Blow Seanachai: Well, let's get a move on. Peng: Curse the Bald One, who drives us on like caribou seeking the coastal plain! Seanachai: Wonderfully topical reference, Peng, and quite in keeping with our circumstances. Berli: Sod off. Is there any more ale? Seanachai: Oh, Berli, there's always more ale. That's the lovely thing about creation. You can. Now, who's for a bit of a sing-song? Berli, why not give us the Commandante's theme from Don Giovanni? ------------------ 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

Hmm, not bad by half. If he can do it again, and not repeat himself or ruin the effect by giggling, or descend to cliche's, I say let him hang around and everyone spit on him. Why's he got a thing on for Morse, we've got two mall lawyers here now, no waiting; is Moby the Great White Lawyer charging higher fees? You have to love the pictures of the both of them, all unctuous and friendly like, with that same, radiant look of 'put me to work for you, and I'll destroy your enemies before sucking the marrow out of your cracked bones.' ------------------ 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

Hmm, pity about the title of the Thread, still, on short notice, and all. So, Maple Leaf up? Yah, roight up 'em! But first we take care of Moose and Mace, Natasha. ------------------ 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

Well, I've checked out all the newer pictures. Shandorf, you do realize that Tommy Chong looks less whacked than you do, don't you? And I thought Tip O'Neill was dead, so who's the git with the snowy locks? I've got a liberal lawyer friend who lives in DC. Maybe I can get her and her husband to hunt the Lawyer down and mess him around. Pity she's a Quaker, she usually stops short of actual violence. Maybe they can at least play mind games with him. ------------------ 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

Hem, time to resurrect the National Anthem, which first appearred in the Original Peng Challenge Thread. Oh, Canada O land filled with Canadians if the French had won you might be called Acadians O Canada We doff our touque for thee. Well, Babra, don't stand there shivering and gaping, get everyone a beer. I'm partial to Blues in the bottle, not because it's Canada's best beer, but it's what we always drank up at Lake of the Woods, and it just seemed right for fishing. Bloody Canadians are quick lads, Madmatt locked the old hole up while I was driving home from work, must have just missed him. Morse, start posting, Canada is a loyal ally of the Peng Challenge Thread, Babra was an early poster there (before he took a brief leave), and most of what's left of the cess will quickly freeze here, and make for a very nice skating rink. I say we try some Peng Challenge Thread curling, using Bauhaus for the stone. ------------------ 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

Humph, an idjit, but an entertaining idjit, withall. Lad, as I've been after telling you, there is no leadership here. The best that anyone can claim is 'first amongst equals' or, in the actual useage of the Peng Challenge Thread, 'half-daft amongst complete idjits'. We've had this sort of thing before, this hunger after power, place, and presence, and it's just not on. Leading a Palace Revolution in the Peng Challenge Thread is like trying to empty a very low bar. Sure, you can push them all out, take their stools, and declaim bright speeches about a new order and the rights of the common drinking man. But the next day, the regulars are all back at their usual stools, and you can show up and tell them that you're in charge. But after a while, after you've argued enough, and had enough rounds bought for you, and run into the locals' pig-headedness, and bought a few drinks for everyone yourself, you'll realize that there's no one in charge, but you'd just as soon not contradict Berli over there about Opera, or Peng about what makes an individual a useless Wank, or Hiram about how nice cats are, or...I think you get my drift. Eventually, you just find a stool that suits you, and pull it up to the rail, and begin jawing everyone about how it wasn't like this when you first joined the Thread, and how just any useless wipe can come in and talk about how the Thread ought to be run, and how in your day there were Real Posters, not like the worthless load of rubbish you see here now, and how can we keep these aimless ****e's from just wandering in and posting their 2 post pieces of used toilet tissue, and how you've sneezed better verbiage into an old, used undershirt that you found one night under the bed. And after awhile, lad, you realize you are one of the leaders of the Peng Challenge Thread, and it didn't take any gun battles, or purges, or executions, and, in the long run, you're just as happy, 'cause if you'd made an uproar like that, who'd be buying you a pint now, when everyone else is completely buggered about hearing your latest theory of how the posters of the world should unite, because they have nothing to lose but the chains of a useless and aging feudal system that never took into account the penetration abilities of a truly sharp mind when encountering a massive, immovable object such as the Peng Challenge Thread. And you'll be home, ya' see. ------------------ 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

Good God, he thinks he's dating Kitty? Mace is going to cough up a kidney over this one. And even on truly good hallucinogens, boyo, no one gets to unilaterally declare Lordship status here. Leadership comes in the same way it came to the Vikings...a sort of gradual feeling that it would be better to let so-and-so choose/lead/have-his-way because then things went better and no one had their goddamn head cut off prematurely. I only tell you this because of the complete lack of worth I feel you have, but acknowledge the potential for being less than a useless wank that I feel you show. Selah. ------------------ 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

Ah, now while he spelled it wrong (Mameluke, you sods, not his take on The-Poor-Man's-MacAuslan), that's just fine, that is. Some of the good stuff. ------------------ 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

Bugger that, I like Slagdragon as well as the next intelligent wank who shows up here, but he's not getting Knighthood that easy. I'd say give him Squire status, with a right good will, and certainly apply the new rules to him, as I believe the lad has staying power, but although Lorak's rationalized the Knighthood/Squire requirements, we can't just be inducting every lunatic Tom, Dick, and Mary who wanders in here. This cheapens the accomplishments of those who achieved their present status by being here first, and setting up a whole lot of pointless and humiliating rules for joining an august brother/sisterhood that most folk would recoil from in horror, and exclaim that they wished they'd thrown their own children to pitbulls before allowing them to turn out this way. Come to think of it, I wish I'd thrown Slapdragon to the Pitbulls with my own hands, while tossing flower-petals into the sawdust pit where he was being dismembered, O and the sea the sea crimson sometimes like fire and the glorious sunsets and the figtrees in the Alameda gardens yes and all the queer little streets and pink and blue and yellow houses and the rosegardens and the jessamine and geraniums and cactuses and Gibraltar as a girl where I was a Flower of the mountain yes when I put the rose in my hair like the Andalusian girls used or shall I wear a red yes and how he kissed me under the Moorish wall and I thought well as well him as another and then I asked him with my eyes to ask again yes and then he asked me would I yes to say yes my mountain flower and first I put my arms around him yes and drew him down to me so he could feel my breasts all perfume yes and his heart was going like mad and yes I said yes I will Yes. Bugger! Damn fine stuff, Von Shrad, and thanks to Mr. Happy for sharing his usual dose! That's green windowpane, that is lad, and no mistake. Roight, then! Let Slapdragon in as a Knight! I'm off to play Cripple-Mr.-Onion with Nanny Og, and sing the Hedgehog song on the lawn in our current ice storm! ------------------ 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

Lorak, this approach shows such general good sense and is so acceptable that I can only conclude it has no business here. However, I readily embrace it, and rush to congratulate and fling trash at all the new Knights, and the new Squires may content themselves knowing I've spat on the top of each of their heads. As the Lorak has written, so shall it be done. ------------------ 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