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A Rose by Any Other Name


Desert Dave
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Note: I cannot post in the Free French thread for the simple reason that I am continually kicked out... I get this error message: URLMON.dll.

If anyone knows what that means, let me know. Perhaps due to picture-insertion code? Who knows, it never happened before, but the only difference I can discern is the inclusion of pictures.

Hi Ho! and so pluck-the-lit-Git anyhow, this latest piece of the puzzle was ...discovered just recently in a very decrepit sailor trunk... but see, the thing of it is, you have to have... the skeleton key...

* * * * * * * * *

The Famed Hollywood Agent -- Maxwell Terkel, hey, his friends -- and he had quite a few, let him remind you, just called him... Max... well, he couldn't help it,

He just stood and stared. :cool:

He'd heard tell of these Southwest sunsets, sure enough, but this was his first.

Oh my, he thought.

My my my my, Socrates-the-raddled Gad-fly, my.

A swirling riot of reds & oranges and clouds tipped & spilling fiery liquids like precious porcelein tea cups... in the hands of a New Disbeliever... and the tea, uh huh, had come all the way from... China...

... it was... a Circus sort of sight, as though ol' Picasso had stuck the Family Saltimbanques high in the sky with whole hands-full! of beglowing red rubies and wicked white diamonds too! and they'd strewn them a-bout... ah, rather indolently, indeed...

{... where did that come from, Maxwell wondered?

He rubbed at his eyes. He felt... a little beside himself, and should a Jungian scholar be juxtaposed, shoulder to collar, he'd likely say -- a Classic case-study of... collective ekstasos...

But... who was this... Pistachio fellow?

And then the ground rose nauseous up! beneath his Hollywood-handsome feet and a bell sound! suddenly swelled... be damned! If it wasn't... The Beach Boys... loud and clear, as though he was holding a mermaid-shaped sea-shell... right close to his ear...

...Well, I feel so broke up,

I want to go home...

The first mate he got drunk,

Broke in the Captain's trunk,

The constable had to come

And take him away,

Sheriff John Sloan,

Why don't you leave me alone,

Yeah, yeah...

So hoist up the John-B sail!

See how the mainsail sets,

Call for the Captain ashore,

Let me go home...

Why don't they let me go home?

...this is the worst trip

I've ever been on...

... Max shuddered -- Mabel had warned him, bless her little wheel-chair heart, she did, many the times she had distinctly said -- you better! quit that Jack Daniels-habit so late into night, oh mercy on yer Black-Bart soul...

...and sure it was, the Famed Cinema Editor, an odd duck but a wizened pro, who was favored by DeNiro -- rumor had it that he'd worked day & night for a year! to get that hackle-raising mirror-scene in Taxi Driver just right, but got no credit, none! no, of course not, that's how they do you -- out there in La-La Land, ha ha, uh huh...

... anyway, he'd tracked the old goat down, and this is where he'd been told to go... cost him a sawbuck or two, that pack-away rat!

... out onto the antigodlin' desert! and nothin' but little turqoise-tailed lizards scurrying and air so clean & tight that he could hardly breathe quite right...

WHAT THE HELL... was happening here...}

And then he saw it. Rather, it... just... appeared.

A ramshackle lean-to perched perilous on the Edge, plywood door partly askew, and the sail-away sounds came dreamily, Trismegistus-like... from... far inside...

... FADE ...

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I had to peek at the posting, just had to peek, that's all I intended to do ... Yet again, I'm left wondering where this stuff comes from, what it means, and - more puzzling - what the heck should I do with it? The brief bit of a Beach Boys tune was a pleasant distraction, but the rest is now firmly entrenched in various brain cells that could be better used for something else. Hence, a response is called for. But what?

Perhaps a quote from General MacArthur is the only fitting response possible under such dire circumstances: "Unhappily, I possess neither that eloquence of diction, that poetry of imagination, nor that brilliance of metaphor to tell you all that they mean."

Btw, IE and I continue to challenge each other on the SC battlefields. Despite occassional razzings here on the forum, we do possess mutual respect for each other. With the new chat feature in tcp/ip play, I get these various musings from our wargamer-savant while I'm trying to concentrate on some obscure detail of the game, like Russia. There ought to be a handicap or something! Seriously, it's always interesting. ;)

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Wouldn't you like to be the fly on the wall of an EB vs Dgaad hot-seat match?....Truly they must be the heavy-wieghts of SC!!!!....NO? I hope people take what John and me are doing for what it is...an anti-dote for the chilling, not very inviting or particularly interesting board we had going here a month ago.

P.S The Beach boys rule!

[ November 14, 2002, 05:31 PM: Message edited by: General Billote ]

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Wouldn't you like to be the fly on the wall of an EB vs Dgaad hot-seat match?....
Now there's an idea! Some sort of TCP/IP lurker/observer feature to allow others to watch a game in progress. Hey Hubert ...

[insert sound of opening a can of worms.]

Stop! What was I thinking? :eek:

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Mabel was a very patient woman.

She had to be, she'd been in this confounded wheelchair since... November, 1963.

The doctors didn't know, Ha Ha, and how! they fumed and muttered about her so-called hysterical reaction... to the Assassination.

Mabel laughed loud. They ALL may just as well be idiot consorts to Hippocrates, who had speculated that wombs would move around in a woman's body!

Hysteria they called it way back in the Classical Age, why... isn't that exactly like the men, oh, that's just hysterical!.

But, she knew. She knew... that awful American day, there had been... an opening. The tiniest of... cracks... in the Sky, letting in... oh, mea culpa, God forgive us... and Mabel shuddered...

These were her secret thoughts. No need to tell anyone, not even... Maxwell.

He would only worry needlessly. Max was a decent man. Many thought him merely... some Gad-fly of a Hollywood agent, A-party to A-party, but she knew better. He had an inside light... that he... mistrusted, and even... despised. Like most men, he denied his aesthetic sense, covering it over with bluster and... a panic resembling unreasoned fear.

She sat near the window and looked out and noticed now a squirrel poised on a tree-limb, working its front paws furiously... then, she noticed the neighbor's cat... it was in the grass just below, watching intently. It's agile ebon back rippling sinuous in the morning sun.

Sure, this is how the World works. In the here and now.

And, back then... when Spartan Hoplites came trudging so thunderous -- shoulder-to-shoulder, across the rocky Attic plain, their red tunics like unfurled flags alight in an unholy fire.

Mabel sighed. She was worried for Maxwell. Just before leaving on his trip -- but why would he need to go to the Desert? He wouldn't say, no matter how she tried to coax it out of him, and now, she was anxious once again. She reached for her vial of medicine, and gulped one of the small blue pills.

The night before he left he'd been dreaming, and had woken her, thrashing & yelling about... Belmondo.

Some guy named Belmondo riding around in a Ford rag-top?... whatever that meant.

She watched, apprehensive but resigned, as the cat inched... ever closer to the base of the tree.

Mabel bowed her head to pray. It was her way. Ever since the days of Great Awakening, this was how her Kind would summon the strength to get through.

The California sun streamed clean & pure through the kitchen window, highlighting the scarlet ribbon tied quite delicately, in her long, silver-blonde hair.

No one would ever suspect, seeing her now, that once! O those were the halcyon days! she had been a gallant surfer, riding the Santa Monica waves and laughing like some frenzied Bacchante -- tearing Pentheus limb from limb, while Brian Wilson -- how she loved that man, a true American genius... and The Beach Boys played & played...

Everybody's gone surfing, surfing USA!

Mabel raised her head and felt some slight relief. The squirrel, with high-toned and sassing chatter, had finally spied the cat, revealed at last in all its pretty foolishness.

The squirrel seemed unconcerned, even... disdainful.

If only she could feel the same way. She was worried about Maxwell... the pill was making her sleepy... she dozed...

... she saw a tall, dark-haired man with striking blue eyes... he pulled a key out of his pocket, a skeleton key it was, and... got into his car... a black '57 Ford with a gold-slash splashed along the side... and he whirled away, but not before saying... softly...

"Mabel, (... she started, there in her wheel-chair, yet asleep, and wondered even while she dreamed... how could he know my name!) oh golden surf-girl, it's all right, don't you fret your red-ribbon'd head...

... there are things I have to do. And Max can help. I won't keep him long. The damned War is going badly, the Insanity is relentless and immense, and we are obliged to do what we can, Max and I... and a few others -- can you, will you, allow that?

Sleep Mabel, like a mermaid far out to Sea, floating and lost in a dream... it's those soothing Pacific waves... put you to sleep, child... deep asleep...

... FADE ...

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Immer ain't got nothin but fresh air and sunshine out there in the desert. He jus marchin to the beat of his own drum. Mind you, watch your step and just try to keep up! :D

Hey, I don't worry about him near as much as I worry about myself someday actually understanding everything he says and starting to say the same stuff. :eek:

Must ... maintain ... control ...

Riff Raff - With a bit of a mind flip

Magenta - You're into the time slip

Riff Raff - And nothing can ever be the same

Magenta - You're spaced out on sensation

Riff Raff - Like you're under sedation

Chorus - Let's do the Time Warp again

Now where's my medication?

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As originally posted by jon_j_rambo:

Immer-My-Brain-It-Was-And-Is-Gone --- Dude, what the hell? If your on drugs when you post, then quit doing drugs. If your NOT on anything when you post, go get some drugs. My Mom always warned me about hanging around D&D / Wargamer people.

rambo junior: I knew a guy who bragged around like you way back in my Army days. He lasted two weeks.

If you will only quit imitating a gutter-mouthed radio punk, and/or some muscle-bound cretin who ducked service in Vietnam, I might know who I'm talking to?

One day, when you decide who you really are, let me know, we can start all over, yes? ;)

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Immer ---

First:

Thanks for the normal sounding post & reply; it shows you're listening to me. That is good. You're beginning to know your role.

Next:

quit imitating a gutter-mouthed radio punk
gutter-mouth? Is that like a fowl-mouth or something? Nice try, but my smack is clean; so don't play the "moral card".

Next:

I knew a guy who bragged around like you way back in my Army days. He lasted two weeks
What am I bragging about?

Next:

who ducked service in Vietnam
Now you play the "military card"? I was 3 years old when the war ended. So I guess I did duck out of service.

Next:

Let me make myself clear. I run a clean organization & gaming club. You guys have been stuffing this Forum with a bunch of boring stuttering-junk. Then when a "Professional" gamer like myself, that's right a "Professional", comes along, you get all upset. My advise is for you to clean up your act.

Quit posting a bunch whacky stuff like,"I was standing by a goat and felt the breeze like a circus in town by the Taxi Driver of my dreams which took me back to a place.....Ba, Ba, Ba, Ba, Ba, Barbarann, Went to a dance, looking for romanace....then lets go to a dream where I was but the goat was there with the tank."

If you wouldn't post whacked stuff, you wouldn't get hassled so much.

Why am I doing this? As a favor to this Forum & website to give gaming a better image. That we aren't a bunch freaks.

In conclusion, "Know your role, & shut your hole". Think before you post.

jon_j_rambo

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As originally posted by jon_j_rambo:

Why am I doing this? As a favor to this Forum & website to give gaming a better image. That we aren't a bunch freaks.

In conclusion, "Know your role, & shut your hole". Think before you post.

Well, the thing is, YOU are not running this forum.

If you don't like what I or anyone else writes, don't read it. Simple, yes?

Use your little mouse, and just click on by.

Since you apparently can't discriminate and determine what I have said (... I said that you were IMITATING those two ciphers, NOT that YOU were a radio-punk or a chicken-hawk, do you understand now?), or am saying, let's just do this: you stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours.

[ November 16, 2002, 02:28 AM: Message edited by: Immer Etwas ]

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