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Post by OscarWillebeest on Jun 8, 2008 18:06:58 GMT -5
"The time has come," the Walrus said, "to talk of many things. Of sailing ships and sealing wax, and whether pigs have wings." Aforesaid of course being the bastardised version of the original as espoused by the Walrus when he and the Carpenter enticed the oysters onto the beach. Now all the little talented oysters nomed members, have been enticed onto the beach nomed "Insultingly Your’s." And happily they waddle in tow, merrily echoing their expectations of abilities being recognized, of creating a cultural awareness in the midst of a rotting cesspool of inabilities as represented by their inglorious leader nomed Jade. All the while failing to notice how said leader, a semantic ignoramus, a walrus, and Piph the carpenter slyly wink at one another. And like poor Alice, the stupid members deceive themselves by contemplating who they like best: the Walrus who apparently felt sorry for the oysters, but ate the most; or the Carpenter whom ate less, but yet as many as he could get! Pleasantly they are deluded by Tweedledum(distanlight), whom flummoxes them with one-liners, which our little oysters apparently equates with blessings from God. Maybe the little oysters should escape from their personalised wonderland, and turn once more to my beloved Dylan Thomas. More specifically his Whitsun Wedding, and specifically the context of "But eden is burning. Either brace yourself for extinction, or else our hearts must have the courage for the changing of the guard..." Run little oysters, run. The worst fate which can befall any artist is to be deemed mediocre. Either be brilliantly talented, or unimaginally bad. Cease feasting on one-liners churned out by deluded fools,who has neither ability, nor talent. Already your output is mediocre, already you venture forth to forums where you diminish your worth by opining on subjects of which you have not the faintest. Tweedledum can masterfully express himself on 2 forums, Jade in one, Piph in none, with Cabernet not even a starter. Now I shall vacate the stage in favour of Alice's Humpty Dumpty:(shortened) ”The fishes answered with a grin, "Why, what a temper you are in!" I told them once, I told them twice: They would not listen to advice. I said it very loud and clear; I went and shouted in his ear.” But, you are not paying attention, are you? Thus we shall allow good old Humpty to opine: Afterwards Alice took her leave: "Good-bye, till we meet again!" Answered Humpty Dumpty: "I shouldn't know you again if we did meet,you're so exactly like other people."
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Post by jade on Jun 10, 2008 11:38:06 GMT -5
‘Indeed, the time has come, to talk of these things’ the Walrus said, ‘Of truths to be told, and myths to be revealed.” For Humpty Dumpty, is none other than the hunchbacked monarch, named Oscar of Portmanteaux. After he was deserted by all his supporters, he fell of his steed, and is said to be hacked into pieces. Now, trying to resuscitate himself back into life, he blabbers incoherently, defaming his newfound followers, once again.
Discussing semantics and pragmatics with Alice, this egghead (or some believed him to be a drink of brandy, boiled with ale) gave the characters of wonderland the definitions of nonsense words, mostly (mis-)explaining them. This was his passion in life, his calling, or so he thought… He had the oysters, sparrows, kings and knights eagerly devouring his every word, taking it for gospel. For never before, had there been a poet of greater intellect, self-righteous morals, equipped to tantalise Nobody or Somebody, all non-existing characters in his own fictitious plot.
Said Humpty, “ They’ve a temper, some of them – particularly verbs, they’re the proudest – adjectives you can do anything with, but not verbs – however, I can manage the whole lot! Impenetrably! That’s what I say!”
The time has come for the members to decide what they want to be, verbs, adjectives or nouns – to solemnly invoke a deity, where they stand – even if they choose to be an utter profanity.
Time for the members to, like Alice, ponder about what the world is like on the other side of a mirror, or to strive like the Duchess to look for the moral, since “everything’s got a moral, if only you can find it.”
Bear in mind that Lewis Caroll wrote his books for the imagination of children, and not for the analysis of deranged asylum escapees.
Dear Humpty Dumpty, leave us be, so we can use our idiosyncratic words and phrases to our hearts content.
Thou are so insensitively uffish, with your voice, oh so gruffish, your manner roughish and your temper huffish.
And with a song, I fare thee well, I bastardize and I plagiarize, o so swell. Apologies to Caroll’s literary nonsense For using chapter nine as semantic indifference. Twisting the intention of a master To suit my own selfish disaster--
‘To this forum world it was I that said “I’ve a sceptre in my hand, I’ve a crown on my head. Let the forums creatures, whatever they be Come dine with Piph, Distantlight and me!” Then fill up the glasses as quick as you can, And sprinkle the tables with offence and slan’: Put cats in the coffee and mice in the tea— And welcome Oscar’s malice with thirty times three! “O Forums creatures” I quote, “draw near! ‘Tis an honour to see me, a favour to hear: “Tis a privilege high to have converse and puns along with Piph, Distantlight and me!” Then fill up the glasses with poisonous ink, Or anything else that is horrid to drink: Mix snub with the cider; and drool with the wine— And welcome Oscar’s malice with ninety-times-nine!’
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Post by OscarWillebeest on Jun 11, 2008 6:35:22 GMT -5
Detective Oscar, part 1. Luckily for me there was no plagiarism involved, not this time. But the jade bitch, the incompetent piph, and the unholy light more than made up for this absence by spouting untruths, outright lies, insinuations, and vulgarities. Incompetently they were bobbing and weaving in their miserable attempt to disguise their ersatz abilities. Even my crystal mind started to reel under this avalanche of childishness, this unwarranted semantic onslaught upon the senses of both the brilliant Oscar, and the fed-up members. Honestly, these squealing humanoids were somewhat overbearing. Hunched over my computer I stared at the flickering screen, concluding that there indeed was an under supply of whiskey, off-setted by an over supply of morons whom collectively jostled to push reason back into the dark ages. My temper grew progressively shorter in sympathy with the waning night, fuelled by the inconsequentiality of the blaring words, naked in their validity when perused for any semblance of logic, any semblance of literary ability. I take another swig from the bottle, once more contemplating the Jade bitch’s madness of displaying such childish vindictiveness in public. Surely she is beyond incompetent, most probably driven insane by jealousy, perhaps the product of a failed career? Sickly syphillic she vexes forth, word after word, paragraph after paragraph, writ after writ, never letting up, blindly intent on wrecking whatever credibility she once might have enjoyed amongst those of similar disability. Pity the likes of her are not animals, for then they could legally be released from their misery. Crazed by her vindictive nature, she spouts illogical logic, just like Tweedledee, and his evil twin brother, Tweedledum, in Mr, Lewis Caroll’s long ago tale titled Through the Looking glass, in which the very young Alice encounters these two unsavoury characters: `I know what you're thinking about,' said Tweedledum; `but it isn't so, nohow.' `Contrariwise,' continued Tweedledee, `if it was so, it might be; and if it were so, it would be; but as it isn't, it ain't. That's logic.' `I was thinking,' Alice said politely, `which is the best way out of this wood: it's getting so dark. Would you tell me, please?' Which reminds me: I better attend to my other case, for I have already accepted a retainer from the lady Alice. Peculiar that case is: wild animals steadily disappearing over a period of 2 years, without a trace! Almost like the trio’s intelligence. When interviewing lady Alice yesterday she was absolutely livid, literally roaring with rage because of a missing lion. Sitting on the last remaining animal, refusing to eat sleep, or go home she emphatically declared that no one will touch old Dumbo. Momentarily my mind then roamed in the direction of 3 other dumbos. Squinting at the elephant, I decided that compared to them, this one appears to be rather intelligent. But lady Alice was adamant: “Ten score years ago, my late husband and I, the Lord Ficklebaum started this theme park from scratch. O, we were rather out of pocket then, and many a day I had to act the clown, the monkey, or the village idiot, Was quite successful, you know, apart for inbetween when I pretended to be sane. Then he died, and the animals started to disappear.” She faltered…then hesitatingly continued… “Because my name is Alice, we named the park accordingly….” then pointing a finger at me, from atop old Dumbo, whom contentedly continued to munch some melons, she venomously screeched: “AND I EXPECT YOU TO FIND OUT WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR THIS MALICE IN WONDERLAND!”
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Post by jade on Jun 15, 2008 8:38:51 GMT -5
One thing was certain, that I, the bitch had had nothing to do with it: -- it was the puppet master's fault entirely! For the bitch had been having her fingernails painted for the last hour or so, so you can see, she could have no hand in the disappearance of the animals.
You see, while Oscar was sitting curled up in a corner, hunched over his Pentium 1, half talking to himself and half blitzed, the members had been having a grand game of romps. Perambulating in the forums, with complete disregard to intent or order. I think t’was Rasco that jumped upon the Gemstone’s back, causing pandemonium, the abode of all demons, dancing and whooping, turning harmonious fraternity… into complete topsy-turvydom.
…
`Oh, you incorrigible little rascal!' I cried, catching up the monarch of Portmanteaux, and giving him an enormous whack to make it understand that he was in disgrace.
`Do you know, I was so angry, when I saw all the mischief you had been doing, I was very nearly opening the window, and putting you out into the snow! And you'd have deserved it, you monstrous sorcerer! What have you got to say for yourself? Now don't interrupt me!' I rant on, holding up one finger. `I'm going to tell you all your faults:
‘Number one: you squeaked twice while the animals in this purple circus were acting in modest, obliging manner. Now you can't deny it, Oscar: I heard you! What’s that you say?' Now don't make any more excuses, but listen!
Number two: you pulled the lioness away by the tail just as I had put down the saucer of milk before her! What, you were thirsty, were you? How do you know she wasn't thirsty too?
Now for number three: you unwound every bit of the cognition while we weren't looking!’
`That's three faults, Oscar, and you've not been punished for any of them yet. You know I'm saving up all your punishments for Wednesday week -- Suppose they had saved up all MY punishments!' I violently declaim, talking more to myself than Somebody or Nobody, the non-existent characters of this ignominious plot.
`What WOULD they do at the end of a year? I should be sent to prison, I suppose, when the day came.
Or -- let me see -- suppose each punishment was to be going without a clear-cut writ from a worthy member: then, when the miserable day came, I should have to go without fifty new posts at once! Well, I shouldn't mind THAT much! I'd far rather go without them than enduring them! For the contributions of late reminds me of a hungry hyena chewing on a rotten, barren bone!‘
Apologies once again to Lewis Caroll, for blasphemising and plagiarising chapter 1.
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Post by distantlight on Jun 21, 2008 6:55:55 GMT -5
i already told you humpty dumpty was just an old cannon that people couldn't put together. after it fell down. (Some kids pushed it off the precipice for kicks and giggles).
but all of 'creatives' want it to be an antrhopowhatever language professors like to write about.
why more blather trying to incite interest in terms of a small girl called alice?
/wc
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Post by distantlight on Jun 21, 2008 6:57:06 GMT -5
Lewis Caroll should have his cut alice.
don't ever insult me about bunnies
/wc
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