Smuggler Archive
Thread: A Curse Upon Thee, WesBelden
Pirated Sig - WOE UPON THEE, WESBELDEN, FOR THEE TIME IS AT HAND! IT IS NOT THE TIME OF ADORABLE PUPPIES AND SUNSHINE FOR WHICH I SPEAK; NAY, IT IS A TRULY DARK TIME LAID UPON YOU! THERE WILL BE NO SOLACE FOR THEE, FOR THEE HAS ABANDONED THY SOUL UPON MY WRETCHED CLUTCHES. A THOUSAND YEARS OF SOILED LINENS, SLIGHTY CRUSTY BISCUITS (AND NOT IN THE GOOD WAY, NAY!!!), HORRIBLE MOVIE REMAKES OF 1980S AMERICAN POP CULTURE AND BAFFLING MONKEYS ASKING IF THEE WISHES TO REVIEW THEIR NEW SPACE-BASED FIRST PERSON "MONKEYS IN A BARREL" EPIC ADVENTURE! NAY, THERE WILL BE NO PEACE FOR THY SOUL, WESBELDEN, FOR I WILL HAUNT THE HAMSTERS IN THEIR DREAMS! AND UPON THESE HAMSTER UTTERANCES OF YOUR PATHETIC NAME WILL BE ENOUGH TO DRIVE THEM MAD; AND WITH THIS MADNESS, MANY BOUNTIES WILL BE SOUGHT UPON THEE'S NOGGIN'! AND THE BOUNTY HUNTERS WILLTH COMPLAIN, FOR THEIR LOT IS AN UNHOLY ONE OF WATERLOGGED JEDI, UNTOUCHABLE CRIMINALS, AND A SLIGHT CHAFFING SENSATION IN THEIR COMPOSITE PANTS!! NAY!!! THERE WILL BE NO REQUIEM FOR THEE, WESBELDEN!! NAAAAYYYYY!!!!! THEE WILL PARRISH, FORGOTTEN, BURIED UPON THE POSTS OF BUREAUCRACY AND PLAYERS LONG FORGOTTEN!! WESBELDEN, THEE SOUL IS LOST TO ME FOREVER!!
Through me the way among the lost people.
Justice moved my higher maker;
Divine power made me,
Highest wisdom, and primal love.
Before me were no things created
Except eternal ones, and I endure eternal.
Abandon every hope, ye who enter here.
Muhahahahahahahaha
Yet hark, a cry, listen clear, for a new blue name is born.
Curse and scowl with wretched wrath as much as thy wouldst wish,
Thou even may prepare most cold, revenge, upon its silver dish.
Yet I pray thee soon after think of brighter days to come,
For better and good things will be, once this blue boy is done.
WesBelden wrote:
Thou dost jest with dangerous words and lavish thee with scorn,
Yet hark, a cry, listen clear, for a new blue name is born.
Curse and scowl with wretched wrath as much as thy wouldst wish,
Thou even may prepare most cold, revenge, upon its silver dish.
Yet I pray thee soon after think of brighter days to come,
For better and good things will be, once this blue boy is done.
Heh, original. I seem to be able to write poetry/verse fairly easily. Not something particularly helpful to a Smuggler unless in an extrelemly bizarre situation, but there you go
WayneInAustin wrote:
Dang, Wes... where did THAT come from?
That was pretty nice. Original? or adapted?
crushed dreams and unending mire,
Haden lies once more...
Saabotage wrote:
Will thou take us arms WesBelden? Will thou fight for us in space? Will thou fight for us on land? Or will thou Feign Death in front of the DEAMONS know only as Dev? Now is the time to take up fist or pistol. Now is the time to battle against the evil that knows no REVAMP! NOW IS THE TIME TO FIGHT!
.........Sorry just still feeling angry about never being revamped.
......But please on our behalf crack some skulls........ Please.....
Why do you think I wrote that Haiku?
Once upon a midnight dreary, fingers cramped and vision bleary,
System manuals piled high and wasted paper on the floor,
Longing for the warmth of bed sheets, still I sat there doing
spreadsheets.
Having reached the bottom line I took a floppy from the drawer,
I then invoked the SAVE command and waited for the disk to store,
Only this and nothing more.
Deep into the monitor peering, long I sat there wond'ring, fearing,
Doubting, while the disk kept churning, turning yet to churn some more.
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token.
"Save!" I said, "You cursed mother! Save my data from before!"
One thing did the phosphors answer, only this and nothing more,
Just, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
Was this some occult illusion, some maniacal intrusion?
These were choices undesired, ones I'd never faced before.
Carefully I weighed the choices as the disk made impish noises.
The cursor flashed, insistent, waiting, baiting me to type some more.
Clearly I must press a key, choosing one and nothing more,
>From "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
With fingers pale and trembling, slowly toward the keyboard bending,
Longing for a happy ending, hoping all would be restored,
Praying for some guarantee, timidly, I pressed a key.
But on the screen there still persisted words appearing as before.
Ghastly grim they blinked and taunted, haunted, as my patience wore,
Saying "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
I tried to catch the chips off guard, and pressed again, but twice as hard.
I pleaded with the cursed machine: I begged and cried and then I swore.
Now in mighty desperation, trying random combinations,
Still there came the incantation, just as senseless as before.
Cursor blinking, angrily winking, blinking nonsense as before.
Reading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
There I sat, distraught, exhausted, by my own machine accosted.
Getting up I turned away and paced across the office floor.
And then I saw a dreadful sight: a lightning bolt cut through the night.
A gasp of horror overtook me, shook me to my very core.
The lightning zapped my previous data, lost and gone forevermore.
Not even, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
To this day I do not know the place to which lost data go.
What demonic nether world us wrought where lost data will be stored,
Beyond the reach of mortal souls, beyond the ether, into black holes?
But sure as there's C, Pascal, Lotus, Ashton-Tate and more,
You will one day be left to wander, lost on some Plutonian shore,
Pleading, "Abort, Retry, Ignore?"
Message Edited by imperialassasian on 10-28-2004 02:15 PM