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Originally posted by Papa Khann:

Of course, I'll be spiking your drinks with a bit of laxative from now on, just to be sure.

Eeeeeewwww, that would be nasty. Instead, why don't we just borrow a chain saw and a jaws of life and open him up like an old sardine can? Probably find all sorts of curious objects that way.

Michael

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Originally posted by Papa Khann:

As for the rest, that's a wicked nice dodge. Certainly better than I'd have given you credit for. And you're right (inconceivable as that may seem). Now that I know about it, you'll need to think up something new.

Papa

THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!

splashing of holy water

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Sorry, you lot of stupid buggers, but I've had to take on the role of Advocate. You need to go out onto the Shock Force Forum and post on my 'Grog Dorosh' thread.

I think you should. We are a Community of Equals, after all. If you don't choose to have a say, who cares what you have to say, eh?

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

To me, one of the glories about paddling is that you're in your own boat. You choose your own path, and work it yourself.

And when you drunkenly steer your canvas torpedo into the churning screws of some Soo St. Marie-bound ore freighter, only one obituary need be printed.
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Originally posted by Michael Emrys:

No one. And the waitress gets stiffed as well.

Michael

Please. The last time either one of them managed to stiff a waitress was back in cave-man college.
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Originally posted by Seanachai:

People go on about tandems, but me, I always stand up for singles. To me, one of the glories about paddling is that you're in your own boat. You choose your own path, and work it yourself.

I've never understood the whole new kayaking craze, with these long skinny things. I used to do white water. At least dodging rocks with your head was sort of interesting.

My advice, get a canoe. You can hang a motor on the back and there's plenty of room for the keg.

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

It's going to be at least 2-3 years before you're going to have to make the kind of drug connections necessary to propitiate me.

I read this post quickly and saw 'propigate' instead of 'propitiate', i was quite shocked I can tell you....

and what in the hell does propitiate mean anyway?

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Originally posted by Michael Emrys:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Papa Khann:

Of course, I'll be spiking your drinks with a bit of laxative from now on, just to be sure.

Eeeeeewwww, that would be nasty. Instead, why don't we just borrow a chain saw and a jaws of life and open him up like an old sardine can? Probably find all sorts of curious objects that way.

Michael </font>

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU! THE POWER OF CHRIST COMPELS YOU!

splashing of holy water

Well, I do feel a power, and it does compel me.

Not sure about the Christ part though.

So what's next? You adorn yourself with garlic and try to shine the reflection from a silver cross into my eyes whenever you see me coming? You start taking pot shots at me with silver bullets? (Not entirely impossible, given the number of arms available at dalem's, but the odds you'd ever hit anything you were aiming at is, as they say, "slight".)

You can run, old man. In fact, I think it's kind of cute when you try. It entertains me to see you staggering about, tipping over, then blurting out indecencies. (So it's got that going for it, which is nice.)

But we both know you can't hide, Seanachai.

Papa

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Originally posted by Seanachai:

</font><blockquote>quote:</font><hr />Originally posted by Patch:

I went paddling on Sunday.

Cool. Remind me, what's your boat? What water? Were you on the Fox River, or a local lake?

</font>

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So, it has then come to naught. My attempt to redeem Grog Dorosh must be set at naught.

While I had hoped for it to go more pages, after the last 7 years in this country I wasn't surprised to see it shut down at 2. Two was pretty fair. Pity the turnout involved so many lame-arsed suck-ups I've never even fecking heard of, chiming in to say that 'most certainly those in power know what is best for us all, and everyone should tuck their cap under their arm and sing some sort of buggered anthem.'

YK2, the Once and Future Queen: If I only ever speak up for people I like, or who I think like me, or support me, then what have I become?

I did not think Grog Dorosh was being treated fairly. I felt that he was being held to a standard that many, many others have been held to, and they, too, were found wanting. But he was banned, and they were not. Or, if they were, they were allowed to return, after doing penance.

Unlike many here, I, myself, have been banned. Totally deserved it, no questions, and I wouldn't not have done it. I was, frankly, amazed at the people who emailed me to tell me that they were sorry I'd been banned. Some of them I didn't really like, and I was bemused to find they thought my postings were worth the trouble, given that all I do is rant, rail, satirize and occasionally do a jolly singsong.

When you join a community, you can take one of two paths. You can either insist that it conform to the parameters that you find acceptable, tenaciously pursuing and routing out every variation from what you regard as 'truth, beauty and The Holy Church of Yourself', and, if you can't bring it into line with your sense of self, you leave.

Or you can put up with the warts, acknowledging your own, making what peace you can with those aspects you will never change, have a silent moment to contemplate how right you are, and, when you find someone you think is a complete fecking twat, either ignore them, or adapt your satire to take their stupidity into account.

These Forums were, for me, an incredible learning experience. I would like to think that, despite backsliding, personal prejudices, self-satisfaction and certainty, that learned a lot.

One of the things I learned was that, although I am probably the smartest son of a bitch in North America today, wise, caring and informed, I don't know everything.

And that, although I very often come close to knowing everything, I didn't know everything that everyone else knows.

And that, unless I was willing to take up the self-righteous, posturing stance of a ****head, I simply couldn't speak for everyone in the world.

I would prefer, I think, not to do that.

But it is, as they say, in my nature.

If I was to be suddenly made all-powerful, I can't vouch for flowers and waffles for everyone.

Some, quite possibly, would suffer a ****-rain of justice and judgement.

But generally speaking, I'm one of those people you see in the movies in a train yard, lost, disheveled, trying to find the ones they love before they're all deported to somewhere where the Powers That Be will subject them to incessant brutality, oppression and indifference.

So, while I might like to stand on a mountain-top and smite everyone who's ever done me wrong or angered me with vengeance, I find it easier and, perhaps, better, to stand by a river and throw in a flower.

In the case of Grog Dorosh it might be a rather tatty flower. But I will throw a flower.

After all, it was up to me to make him a better Grog Dorosh.

And if he was never going to be other than a fecking idiot?

Then why should I ever worry about what he thought, or said?

He was mine to redeem. If he was lost, it was not for lack of the hand I held out to him.

We have this whole, new, marvelous medium of interaction in our hands. It's called the Internet.

It sucks.

I've watched my nation, day by day, year by year, sink further and further into divisiveness and stupidity.

What am I to make of it all?

I will tell you what I chose to make of the banning of Grog Dorosh:

Every voice should be heard. When that voice is ugly, and pursues a personal vendetta, it must be censured. But before any voice is ever made to go still, forever, it should be allowed the opportunity of apology, and redemption.

I did not see that option being offered here.

What is that old saw?

Als die Nazis die Kommunisten holten,

habe ich geschwiegen;

ich war ja kein Kommunist.

Als sie die Sozialdemokraten einsperrten,

habe ich geschwiegen;

ich war ja kein Sozialdemokrat.

Als sie die Gewerkschafter holten,

habe ich nicht protestiert;

ich war ja kein Gewerkschafter.

Als sie die Juden holten,

habe ich geschwiegen;

ich war ja kein Jude.

I accuse no one of anything. I may, in fact, be a man speaking in a bad cause.

But I will not choose not to speak, for all that.

Als sie mich holten,

gab es keinen mehr, der protestieren konnte

[ May 11, 2008, 01:48 AM: Message edited by: Seanachai ]

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Alas poor Dorosh, I knew him well......

what that really means to say is that it would be nice to hold his skull in my hands one day and then punt it between the goal posts of some forgotten sports field only to leave it lying forgotten in the tall grass until one day a mouse decides to take up residence in the cranium until, after several months of crapping in the nasal cavity it decides to leave due to the smell.....the end.

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Seanachai, I'd recommend that you consider further editing of the above post.

Remember, as a wise man once said "An Orange Moose Never Bugles In A Snowstorm" ... no wait, that's not relevant is it ... true but not relevant.

Oh I remember, "We're not about SERIOUS in the CessPool, we're about FUN."

Joe

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This one goes out to Grog Dorosh, may they RIP.

"Delia's Gone"

Delia, oh, Delia Delia all my life

If I hadn't have shot poor

Delia I'd have had her for my wife

Delia's gone, one more round Delia's gone

I went up to Memphis

And I met Delia there Found her in her parlor

And I tied to her chair

Delia's gone, one more round Delia's gone

She was low down and trifling

And she was cold and mean

Kind of evil make me want to Grab my sub machine

Delia's gone, one more round Delia's gone

First time I shot her I shot her in the side

Hard to watch her suffer

But with the second shot she died

Delia's gone, one more round Delia's gone

But jailer, oh, jailer Jailer,

I can't sleep 'Cause all around my bedside

I hear the patter of Delia's feet

Delia's gone, one more round Delia's gone

So if your woman's devilish

You can let her run

Or you can bring her down and do her

Like Delia got done

Delia's gone, one more round Delia's gone

-------------------

Edit to add: Please don't tell on me Joe .

[ May 11, 2008, 09:53 AM: Message edited by: Abbott ]

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