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Topics - Mr. Consideration

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1
PC Games / Vermintide
« on: November 14, 2015, 06:30:13 am »
Is anyone else playing this?

I'm enjoying it (I loved L4D) but its a little clunky and really difficult (as it explains nothing then throws you into multiplayer with people who all run off alone to try and get kills).

Plus it crashes a bunch.
Anyone wanna save Ubershriek from the Skaven?

2
PC Games / Solium Infernum
« on: August 19, 2011, 01:45:12 am »
I couldn't find a thread by searching, but this is a game that came out a year or so ago.  Essentially, you play a magnate of Hell attempting to sieze the infernal throne in a turn-based strategy form, like no other. I figured I might buy it I have bought if and I was wondering if anyone would fancy playing a GamingSteve PBEM with me? The mentality is more 'Dwarf Fortress' than, uh, 'Diablo'.


This
is an AAR from a PBEM game giving an indication of how the game plays, and just how sneaky you have to be!

This is the website.

This is a game with perks like 'Kingmaker', where your intended strategy is to make a certain other player win without being discovered; where via a system of diplomatic wrangling you must be the most prestigious demon around to claim the throne - or risk everything and try to grab Pandemonium by force. Every insult or demand can lead to a vendetta, or challenge, so its in-your-face-tense-no-wriggle-room play

3
Riccal; September 1066.

"To fly the Raven banner above a new Jrvk! To better the Bloodaxe! To defend the conquests of Ivar the Boneless!"

There was a cheer, of course, half-serious and half-mocking, by those watching such debasement around the fire, hudding there for warmth whilst the September Wind made its own speech which chilled the whole encampment there at Riccal. The Harri had seemed a bitter name, viewing the mild amusement on King Haraldr's face. A playing about his lips as he watched the bravado of my father - knowing it, of course, to be pleading in truth. The situation was so subject to the cold, Haraldr's face so weathered and stony it was hard to imagine King Haraldr as a young man; guarding the Emperor of Rome, drinking wine, eating grapes, keeping mistresses and entertaining a skald or two; and perhaps taking my father more seriously then. Such vitality was bereft, now, and with it the camaderie. When one is a foreigner, blonde-haired and carrying a Dane-Axe and drinking-horn, conciously barbaric in the Queen of Cities, it was easy to take the same boasts seriously. To believe that the penniless skald fondling his seax and singing of Dubh Lihn's riches, of his ancestor's valour and tenacity, was the descendent of Ragnar Hairy-Breeches; or Ivar the Boneless; or the noble lineage of the Lothbrk family, who had sailed to Paris and saw the greatness of the Carolingians broken by their will; who had shattered their enemies and seen their broken lung-wings bear them to Hel; lle of Northumbria, Charles the Bald, thelrd the Unrd, Edmund Ironside; all men who could smell the salt on their lips feared the Vikings. And of course, in the Queen of Cities ambition and audacity could breed with Roman excess; from Constantinople could flow the gold to make one a King; The Harri had made himself King of Norway, and soon could be King of the Anglisc aswell; such tenacity could make a man a god.

It was Tostig who laughed first. Hearty and hale; yet hollow - the laugh of the creeping tyrant thrown from his Earldom by rivals and his brother, Harold Godwinson, who now sat as King of the Anglisc-elect, bound by the fealty of his former rivals and the will of Witengamot, with the theling Eadgar nowhere to be seen. Of course, Morcar Leofricson, who has stoled the earldom, had been broken at Fulford, and Jrvk was theirs; Tostig was almost Earl of all Northumbria with only his brother, Harold, King of the Anglisc, to be brushed aside.  The man took to wound-words even whilst he was still a beggar himself. My father, calling himself, to the amusement of all, the thlingr, orkell Lothbrk, and egn of Jrvk, was perhaps almost as close to his claim, but the whim of Haraldr the Harri was as thunder. The Harri stared down Tostig before speaking:

"We shall see on the morn, my thlingr, if I can find a use for you. When the pretender Godwineson is dead, when Guilliam the Bastard is broken and Normandie is a-flame, when the Anglisc submit, perhaps I shall listen to your claim and install you as egn; perhaps as Hnef of Jrvk from Skaraborg to the Marches! But as my vassal, cousin. But when the bear wanders we do not wear his pelt; for now, be as my friend, cousin and sworn man, be merely Hundolf the Varangian and join me in battle against Godwineson tomorrow. And your son, the Lackloop, Guthrum, shall attend to me as squire in the manner of cynght of Anglisc or milite of France. My arms tire from victory."

My father, Hundolf Lothbrk, egn of Jrvk and niggardley beggar, reddened and departed with a curt nod. As his winingas untangled, and dragged in the mood, and his threadbare cape fought against his departure with the support of the wind; he did not look a mighty Varangian, Viking warchief, or even a Norseman. When we rose the Raven banner from our camp, the wind made it seem eager to flutter away to the East, to slink back to Norseheim and nest. When the sun rose to echo it, our scouts reported King Harold would give the field in a few days time, and one could smell the breath of the Nhggr as our world was devoured.


Skaraborg; October 1066

On the ship, I could still envision the Harri  sat on a great log-bench by the fire, talking quietly to his men, and I felt so calm. The Harri had given battle in distant Trincaria, Anatoila, the Rus; had crushed Turks and Saracens and willed himself King of Norway. What could the Anglisc King bring to bear against such raw fury, audacity, tenacity?

But they were all dead now; Godwin's bitter brood, the Harri, my father; and with them the Churchmen whispered the audacity and ferocity of the Vikings had died also. Every day, we heard more of the Bastard's steady march northwards, or the building of great and terrible castles, and all the earls in their world-fear had sworn themselves to the Bastard's tyranny. Everywhere in the North, the whisper was the Anglisc were to bleed, to labour and to die at the whim of their new overlords; the jumped-up sell-swords and hedge cnyghts sworn to any petty Frankish princeling were to be awarded estates to rival that of the greatest egns of the Danelaw, the mightiest earldormen of the Vesseax, and most vicious Princes of Kymru. And we fled, through village and village, ever East and North, until we could find the sea, and from there we could make a new life. What other survivors had there been? The
Harri's oldest friends and thus the quickest to abandon his cause to the ravens that inspired it! thelwyn the Mad Angle Priest; who converted more often than he washed. Eudoxia; the haughty Greek temptress who always asserted she was noble once, despite being the favourite camp-follower of lustful men from Jerusalem to here on the very edge of the world. And Modi, more jotun than man, whose sheer ferocity had spared him from the cynghts and huskarls of Harold. A smattering of washer-women who I knew by name - the reason for mine own - Guthrum 'Lackloop'; the man who could ne'er learn the skills of weaving, sewing, braiding - in truth, the man who never had a mother to tell him. Regardless, it has earned me contacts among the camp-followers and a great deal of knowledge about other matters!







We found a ship, eventually. Seperated from the bulk of the fleeing who had escaped upon the best of the 300 ships that had brought us from Norway, we were forced to purchase passage with merchants.  Jrvk's river-wharfs were empty save for broken men and women picking river-oysters from the mudded water, mumbling and begging in Anglisc, broken Norske. A monk, stood on the remnants of a shattered market-stall, played at eschatology; preaching the end of times and that the Bastard was the Anti-Christ and asking all men to raise arms for the true theling Eadgar and break the Bastard-Tyrant in the field. Few men paid him heed, but the atmosphere was as before a storm. They knew, somehow, that even though or had brought great thunder at Stamford Bridge and Hastings, that the slow, steady chill-fall was about to begin.  No merchant with their own ship stayed in a sacked city on the brink of civil war,  and so we travelled on foot to Skaraborg, and there booked passage for a hefty sum: 6 penningr and my sword to ensure our passage to the Rus, and from where we would creep back to the Empire and perform what services we could, our dreams in the Northeim ended forever, wandering as Odin in peasant guise, with the world unaware of our majesty, our audacity and our loss.


Britain as our heroes depart. Most of this is minor Norman lordlings, with the North is divided neatly between Morcar and Edwin Leofricson, sworn as vassals to the Bastard.



This is a Crusader Kings Deus Vult AAR with a story focus, playing as a probably illegitimate branch of the (my addition to the game) Lothbrk dynasty. Cheating will happen for story-purposes but it is solely in the realm of adding those things CK can't deliver; not to ease gameplay. I intend to retain a fair bit of Medieval player, and gameplay is secondary to role-playing, largely based on character-traits. If we are Arbitrary and Vengeful, this will not simply alter our stats: we shall be arbitrary and vengeful! Don't worry, once we actually get into the game proper there will be screenshots to detract from my cheese-y writing.

Terms:
Anglisc - 'Angle-ish', OE
Jrvk - York, ON. The Anglian name is Eoforwic.
Harri - 'Ruthless', ON.
Varangian Guard
Witengamot
thlingr, theling - Prince, Heir, OE, ON, respectively.
Skald
egn - a low-level noble, ON.
Hnef - ON for 'King'.
Skaraborg - Scarborough
Cynght, Milite - 'Knight'.
Huskarl - House-Guard, OE.
Winingas - Leg-wrappings.
Kennings - a metaphor from Old Norse and Old English poetry such a 'bone-house' (skeleton) or 'battle-ice' refering to a sword.
Seax - a long, machete-esque knife. Root of the word 'Saxon'.



4
Spore: Roleplaying and Story Games / Revenant
« on: June 20, 2010, 05:47:34 pm »
"As the wind blows across the great expanse of Banaqaq, this intangible flurry of atoms wrenches from the groaning heart of that planet a few scattered particles of its essence, and rearranges it as the gods or gravity would see fit...who could say that the Unspoken, in their limitless wisdom and eternal grace, did not deign to tickle the heavenly bodies, that their great rollings should one day produce a most beautiful and paticular pattern of dust?" The Book of Dhulaam, 'Contemplations; Six'

From above, the shattered remmnants of The Faithful, burrowing and fidgeting in infinite complexity in their houses (cast from the very ship that carried them here; now broken and chastened with the unnatural exhaustion, the ungodly fatigue that has even suns simmer and cease took breathe) took on the form of a great machine - intricate and intimate, possessed of both infinite complexity and ingenuity, and infinite unity and purpose.

Contemplations; Six was written on the highest roof of our shining shanty town - perhaps so the gods would not have to look too far to spot our discontent. On the other wall, much simpler, was written ALL THE PHILOSOPHERS ARE DEAD. Whilst the words were tied to but one single wall, hewn from the shattered ships of our shattered people, it was clear the meaning was universal and ubiqitous - perhaps one of the deceased would say that we get the graffitti we deserve.

It is a strange thing to see these proud Auyuelcliads - who have never felt the wind's kiss or the searing sands - mourn a rock which clings like a drowning Urshan to a distant star. I doubt they could point to this heavenly place in the night's sky; and how on Banaqaq could point to this place? A verdant, grassy world- hot and dry like an engine's fumes yet with a foul aftertase of moistness in the air; filled with a mish-mash of traders and rogues and emperors. Clinging to the imperial city and space-port is the wreckage of one of the last of the Auyuelcliad Searcher Ships, now a great hollow tomb for the remmnants of our people, reduced to slavery before the rich robber barons and honest businessmen of this mixed world beyond even great Arcadia.

This new planet, more lush and yet infinitely more dead than distant, abandoned Mother Banaqaq, was the grave of more than just a ship - it was the final resting place of the dream that had once borne the name 'Auyuelcliad'.

We are broken, we are betrayed, and somewhere out there The Unspoken are laughing, taunting, at the puerile excesses of our ill-spent youth. We have lost, we are lost - and we will go home.





5
Art / MrConsideration, Writing Man.
« on: October 03, 2008, 12:38:25 pm »
Hi! This is the thread in which I'll showcase my writing as much as I can, be it prose or poetry. You can all give me feedback and congratulate me on my brilliance, whatever floats your boat. Criticism would be amazing, because all I seem to get is sycophantic praise.

To start things off, and I'll make it clear as justification that I very seldom write poetry (I find it constrictive). However, the first thing I'll upload a poem, because I couldn't choose a written piece I liked enough to represent me. Dear god don't judge me by my poetry!

Well, without further 'don't-judge-me-if-it's-awful-and-I'm-honestly-not-pretentious', here is my first poem....

The Place I Go When I Think About Pelicans

Pity not the Writer Boy;
Soft hair and bright blue eyes, away,
That ink-stained, sink-drained affair,
Keeps him writing to the day.

Pity not the Worker Boy;
Sing the red and raise the black, away,
That round-and-round, underground affair,
Keeps him fighting for the day.

Pity not the Sailor Boy;
Red cheeks and broad shoulders, away,
That choking, soaking affair,
Keeps him grounded to the day.

Pity not the Soldier Boy,
Bound legs and broken dreams, away,
That furious, curious affair;
Keeps him tender to the day.

Pity not the Dancer Boy;
Light legs and cheeky smiles, away,
That prancing, entrancing affair,
Keeps him humble to the day.

Pity not the Cancer Boy,
Who you fled when you ran, away,
That living, giving affair;
Keeps him hoping for the day.

They pity not the Singing Girl;
Deep blue eyes, flowing blonde curls, away,
Its not better to have loved and lost,
But you can live on the hope of just another day.







6
Everything Else / So...the Montauk Monster...
« on: August 01, 2008, 01:53:58 am »
http://gawker.com/5030531/dead-monster-washes-ashore-in-montauk
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Montauk_Monster
http://gawker.com/5031772/montauk-monster-scare-gets-all-the-way-to-the-c+n+n (worst reporter on Earth)

Yet another horrific beast emerges from Area 51 to feed on the flesh of humanity. Or perhaps a decomposed Raccoon. Or a Turtle without it's shell. Or an advertising campaign.

Thoughts?

7
Everything Else / Serbian War Criminal Found
« on: July 22, 2008, 02:24:24 pm »

http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/world/europe/7519039.stm

All I can say is that the hypocrisy of all this disgusts me, because a lot of people passing judgement on him are War Criminals, as far as I'm concerned. All this talk of 'Justice' is idiotic, you can't punish someone enough for the murder of that many people.

It's sickening to think he has lived a decent life for the past decade when he was an absolute monster.

8
Storytelling and Roleplaying / 'African Rabies' - Real Life Zombie RP
« on: July 18, 2008, 01:44:21 am »
Quote
From: BBC News July 2008

"Charity workers have reported the outbreak of a new disease, which is imagined to be a strain of AIDS, in the war-torn nation of Sudan. Currently, as with AIDs, there is no cure for the disease, and no living sample has been recovered for testing, so there is no information on whether the disease is caused by a virus or bacteria and no work has begun on a Vaccination or cure. The disease, which is being colloquially known as 'African Rabies' due to the apparent similar symptoms by aid workers, has been reported in the Jungali, Warab and Kassala regions. The disease is known to spread at a very fast rate, and many Charity and Aid workers have evacuated the Sudan, and refused to talk to our reporters.

Spokesmen from the World Health Organisation have expressed concern over containing the disease, as Sudan is currently in a state of Civil War and is ruled by local warlords. This makes proper quarantine procedures impossible as it would require co-operation between several insurgent forces and the current Government of Sudan.  The disease, which currently has no cure or vaccine is considered a large threat to global health, as if it spreads into neighbouring Arab nations a global epidemic may be unavoidable in the booming Middle Eastern tourist industry and business community. Saudi Government officials have dismissed the claims as 'an overstatement' and claim Egypt will be able to protect itself from the disease.

Sudan's recent involvement in the Darfur Genocide has made them unpopular on the international stage, and discussions are on- going between Gordon Brown and other EU leaders regarding an appropriate international response. "

Affected by this story? Have your say on our Comment page!

 

Here we go, more sensationalist crap from the media.

Hey guys, remember when we all died of Bird Flu? Yeah, me neither.

Although, joking aside, it's not as though Sudan doesn't have enough troubles (all those Teddy Bears to execute and whatnot) alongside this. I think the UN should intervene simply to contain the disease, and if possible, vaccinate against and cure it. Or, broker some form of deal wherein Sudan ceases to commit obvious genocide in return for not all dying of 'African Rabies'.


9
This is the sign-up for my Zombie RP. You must read the rules, and follow them. Rules are up for discussion.

A nice, healthy, gigantic starter post.


The RP, for those too lazy to read the RP Planning Thread, centres around this Forum, a Zombie Apocalypse, and your own survival.


Essentially, players play as themselves, informing other Forum Members how they are managing to cope during the coming storm. Posts will be in a diary, or conversation-esque style. Remember, you are not RP-ing in the traditional sense:

"John lies low under a bed in his room, horribly aware of his front door being open, too frozen in fear to make a sound to check if the Undead have wandered into his abode." This statement would not be applicable; remember, The Apocalypse is Real. You wouldn't have time to type during any actual encounter, nor would you have the inclination. Nor would you refer to yourself in the third person. However, your Internet Access, and this site, will remain up because of magic.

In contrast:

"I've had a ****ing nightmare of a day. I left the door open and a whole bunch of Zombies wandered into my suburb. It took me about 15 hours to pluck up the courage to go downstairs and close the door. I've got this awful feeling one got into my house. I can't do this. I need to prepare my house, but I can't do it quietly and there are Zombies all over the neighbourhood. As soon as they see me, I'm ****ed."

Additionally, you must remember you are playing as yourself in a realistic manner. You can't run outside and kill a hundred Zombies and your insane mother with a Lawnmower. You don't lead a strike force to gloriously retake your city. You don't discover a cure. The limitations imposed on your character are the limitations you yourself have. Not in good shape? That is a shame, but at least you'll feed more than your share of Zombies; Good Luck with running. Not Firearm proficient? Then I imagine you can't snipe at Zombies from your high-rise flat. Don't know how to drive? You don't make your getaway in an SUV covered in knives.

However, any skills you do have your character, who is you, will also have.

Some degree of the Conversation may be discussing Zombie behaviour or weaknesses. Remember, the Apocalypse is Real.

The 'Zombies' in question will be taken from the canon of the Zombie Survival Guide/World War Z.

The Zombies:
  • Originate from the disease caused by the Virus 'Solanum'. Although it has existed for thousands of years, there is little to no medical knowledge of it. It is spread by contact between bodily fluids, and is usually communicated as a bite, although any other means of mixing bodily fluids should cause infection/ It is 100% Fatal, and reanimation occurs after death. One will die 20 hours after infection, and reanimate around 23 hours later. At any time after infection, even before reanimation, it is possible to spread the disease.Solanum is fatal to all creatures, but will only reanimate humans.
  • Corpses cannot be infected, and will not reanimate unless infected at any point. They need not die of infection.
  • Zombies are no stronger or more powerful than an everyday human, but they have the advantage of being able to ignore pain barriers.They are unable to move with any degree of speed.
  • Zombies have no need to breathe or eat. Their compulsion to desire Human Flesh is impossible to explain, as it is never digested.
  • Their sensory organs are no better or worse than those of human beings, until they start to rot, which all Zombies do, very slowly...this could be considered a means of dying from old age. However, their reliance on smell and hearing may make those senses a little more acute. Zombies do not experience any physical sensation, including pain, allowing them to have insane endurance.
  • Zombies never tire.
  • Zombies have no instance of intelligence, or emotional capacity.
  • Zombies can communicate, to a degree, by groaning. This groan is terrifying, and will attract more Zombies. The groan is always given out when prey is spotted.
  • A Zombie can only be permanently killed by destroying the brain.

There will be a short introductory conversation wherein the first outbreaks of the disease are discussed...then, there will be a time-skip to a period where it has begun to spread to other countries. The true nature of the threat is unknown until late in the day to all of you. It is assumed, later into the apocalypse, that all non-playing members are dead.

I'd like for this to be a very dark, creepy RP. Nothing is taboo.

Now sign up.

Edit:

Myself:
Name: Corey Soper
Location: Suburbs, York, United Kingdom
Age: 16

10
Everything Else / Objectivism
« on: June 19, 2008, 04:25:52 pm »
It's becoming clear that we have quite a few 'Objectivists' on our Forum; or at least, a lot of people who adore Bioshock and quote Ayn Rand.

So here is the golden debating thread. Axelgear, remember that people occasionally do need to go to sleep. ;)

For me, Objectivism has always been a philosophy I've disliked, if not been outright terrified by.

The basic core principles of Objectivist Morality is 'Rational Self-Interest'. Which is to say, doings things which benefit you. People seldom seem to recognise these are the same ideas that most left-hand path religions adhere to, such as Satanism. The difference is that Objectivists reject 'Hedonism' as they believe is a threat to self-esteem and simply giving in to animal impulses, which is not what a sapient being should do, whereas Satanists assert that we too are animals and should behave only as such. Most Objectivist ideas are espoused in Ayn Rand's novel 'Atlas Shrugged', and her later works.

Now, the society in Atlas Shrugged collapses due to the immediates withdrawal of all leaders of industry.

This scares me. Objectivist ideas, built upon the principles of self-interest worry me. The idea that 'Society owes us' seems arrogant to me, and utterly flawed. It speaks of class superiority and dull almost-feudal classism, which isn't particularly revolutionary. The assertion that the majority of humanity buzzed away achieving nothing; whilst these god-like entrepreneurs created everything seemed intensely offensive. My second reaction was ridicule; I hold the diametrically-opposed view that all progress and growth in society is directly the responsibility of the working class; who produce everything in all societies. The 'boss' who 'manages' seems unnecessary to me; and at worst, a parasite. He directly contributes nothing but the initial funding to purchase tools and the ilk to produce goods to sell; which he pays for using the profits from sold goods. All in all, even such a man were not leeching off a working class, the workers in his factory would themselves collectively be capable of purchasing tools, materials etc and running the factory. 

Secondly, the endorsement of laissez-faire Capitalism, which was prevalent in 1920's America. The idea that no Government should intervene in trading. This, again, baffles me. Whilst I am myself about as Liberal as it is possible to be socially, I see no reason that vast corporations should be able to act as they should; I utterly believe that without Government intervention they would be even more unethical than they are presently. The idea that laissez-faire capitalism makes anyone 'free' also bewilders me. Whilst 1% of the population may live in comfort and happiness, the 99% left over work for that 1% and without Union protection and entirely acquiesced to their will. No doubt this will lead to wage-cuts, longer hours and the ilk so as to allow the Company to compete with other companies, unless of course the company in question achieves a monopoly. Whilst currently governments take stands against monopolies under Objectivist philosophy they should not; allowing the company in question to deliver sub-standard service at extortionate prices. Complaining that such a situation is in any way outdated is foolish, because with the advent of globalisation the salve-workers simply live in India or China. Whilst you may enjoy a cushy Tertiary Industry job, they still slave away.

It may, initially, stop any measures detrimental to the success of business but will eventually lead to Monopolisation, and thus control on industry by other members of industry itself; choking new businesses and the entrepreneur with unassailable competition. Thus, I believe state or collective influence is necessary, either to protect ethical interests or safeguard the nature of a capitalist economy.

My third fear, is the hatred of Welfare, or any form of State or Anarchic Socialism. The belief is essentially that all inequality is the product of statism; which holds a monopoly on force and serves the interest of a ruling class. Giving the power of equality to the state is useless, as political inequality in the form of Dictatorship will soon arise. This is similar to many anarchist doctrines.

This is another thing that worries me; the assertion that anyone who does not have a job or cannot afford decent housing deserves it for not being quite as incredible as Ayn Rand and her followers. Needless to say, a lack of job opportunities cannot be corrected by any individual, so he must search for a job as much as he can and hope. In this period, I believe it essential that he receive welfare form a central authority or collective to keep him alive during this time. The Objectivist Policy of letting him hang is accentuated by their beliefs in a predator economy wherein businesses commonly go bust and thus jobs are commonly lost. Coupled with this is the assertion of the one Titan 'holding up the world' and him being only truly free by letting it fall. I would love to see the 'leaders of industry' survive without a working class to produce.

The idea that the working class is somehow dull, stoic and unimaginative is also rather offensive, but thats just plain old-fashioned classism.

Another major tenet of Objectivism is that the 'right to property' guarantees all other rights. I do not take that as truth. Not only do those with property ('leaders of industry') have to first remove property from a working class (and thus their freedom, according to Marx) to attain property, Fascists regimes like those of Mussolini and Hitler were incredibly repressive, and owning property did not make you exempt from death. Whilst it is insurance as it gives you a great deal of power, it is far from insurance of your freedoms, and requires you to take another man's.

I'll add to this when I have time. G'night.

Oh, would you look at that nice Can? What is that inside? OMFG WORMS.





11
TV / Heroes BBC (Season 2)
« on: April 24, 2008, 12:54:22 pm »
I think everyone in Britain is turning on thier TV in 5 minutes.

Topic Justification: Brits can't go in the other one without having the show utterly ruined.

I've heard some bad reviews about this series, but I shall ignore them because they pale in comparison to my rampant fanboyism.

12
Everything Else / Earthquake in England!
« on: February 27, 2008, 09:19:18 am »
http://news.bbc.co.uk/1/hi/england/7266136.stm


I slept through it and experienced absoloutley nothing, which is fairly disappointing.

Anyone have an Earthquake experience?

13
Everything Else / Amusing Answers
« on: February 04, 2008, 04:34:28 am »
Having read a few of those amusing answers on the web, I and a few of my friends have started to work little jokes into our homework as a matter of course. Does anyone else have any to share?

These range from writing 'No, It Isn't' on those "THIS IS A BLANK PAGE" page in exams, to things like this:

My Haber Process Report:

"The Haber Process is, in fact, evil. It enabled the German Empire to keep up the production of explosives in World War One; without the Haber Process, the Germans would have run out of explosives by 1916, and millions of people would have lived who died in the trenches in the last two years of the war. Truly Nobel-Prize winning material. It also lead to the collapse of the Chilean economy when foreign companies stopped buying from their Nitrogen mines, which eventually lead to the Dictatorial rule of General Augustus Pinochet. By extension, the third of the Worlds population is supports must be the worlds evil people. Adolf Hitler and Josef Stalin were well known for being avid fans of the Haber Process. Osama Bin Laden once remarked that Fritz Haber was one of his main inspirations. It is estimated that production of Sulphur has grown by 17% since the introduction of the Haber Process, effectively widening Hell and thus Satans evil power. Ammonia is a major ingredient in the preparation of Heroin and Crack Cocaine, as well as an important ingredient in cigarettes. Thus, the Haber Process, and in all probability Fritz Haber himself, is an evil Satan-Worshipping Wizard from another world. "

And answer to a Mock Exam question by a friend of mine,

"The electricity grounds itself. This is shown to us in Pokemon, wherein a Electric Type Attack does not effect a Ground Type Pokemon."

Why is Anita wrong?
"Because she is a blonde."

Akhmed is wrong. Explain why.
"Because the paper wouldn't ask me to explain why he was wrong if he was right."

Sunchu is wrong. Prove it.
"You prove it. You're the one claiming she's wrong."


14
Last night, there was a program on the BBC where Louis Theroux went around San Quentin prison in the United States. I was very shocked by many aspects of the documentary, from the ample availablity of drugs and narcotics, the fact that most offenders re-offend and end up back in prison and the insane amount of Racism inside. Not to mention the Draconian appearance of the Prison itself.

In the yard, every race kept itself seperate from the others, and racism runs rampant. For example, inside the prisons there is a gang named the 'Barbarian Brotherhood'. These are basically a White Supremacist group who impose horrific punishments on other prisoners who refuse to remain seperate from other races. One prisoner was stabbed by the gang for borrowing a Black prisoner's dominoes. On the other hand, one prisoner was an ex-Nazi Lowrider and is now in a homosexual relationship with a transexual Jewish man.

The constant offend and re-offend meant that something like 80% of prisoners that leave San Quentin will be back in there again. In fact, a large portion of the prison was given over to people who broke thier parole. Most people in the prison will slip in and out of institutions for thier entire lives.

The prison was, in parts, insanley cruel. Many Prisoners were kept in tiny, dingy, dark cells with no conversation or entertainment for 23 hours a day. It is hard to describe the conditions, but I must have led a sheltered life because I always believed prison was not anywhere near as bad as that.

It is my belief that this highlights the need for reform in the Prison system; some people re-offend just to get back in prison. Therefore, it is not serving as a deterent....Nor is there any oppurtunity for advancement and eventual rehabilitation, which is what I believe prison shoult be about. Incarceration in terrible conditions is an outdated system.


/Discuss.

15
Storytelling and Roleplaying / Polytheism RP
« on: January 11, 2008, 12:29:23 pm »
It was time for the summit; the meeting between all the dieties of thie world. The reason? To make sure no-one broke the rules. The Rules? Interference at a minimum, in short. Thousands of years ago, the gods had waged thier war; and the world had been thier battleground. Humanity had been a weapon to be used and discarded. Something had to be done, so the Holy Concordant was formed; an agreement never to interfere to such an extent again. Of course, you broke the rules. Everyone broke the rules. You just had to break them by such a small amount that no-one would ever notice.

It was a glade, somewhere in an ancient forest. A hundred miles from the nearest mortal, and beyond the prying of thier inferior eyes. Here, the Concordant had been formed and here the gods met to make sure no-one was breaking the rules to such an extent as to give undue advantage....Old rocks, with old symbols lay haphazardly around the glade, but, as the sun rose thier shadows stretched and formed images of gods, of ancient agreements, of new heroes and old monsters, a swirling miasma of the world.....The shadows aligned in ancient and holy signs; and the Concordant began.


On top of an overturned black stone, which had long suffered the rigours of natural weathering and becmae infested with plant life, but still bore the slight red hue of human sacrifice, a few shadows were growing, independently of light's shape. They swelled grotesquely and formed a humanoid shape, which glowed briefly and became a man with white skin, tight with age but aglow with wisdom. Oily blackness flowed over the man, forming a habit and single band of black metal on one finger. Nethemp had arrived.
He spoke a few words and Scythal and the Rider arrived, walking slowly down...bounded by chains that spread out from thier body, slowly fading into transparency.

"I am Nethemp. I am the darkness in the mind; the impulse to kill, to rape, to conquer. I am the embodiment of a Child's fever dream...the suggestion of Horrors in the dark made flesh. I am the chaotic endless forests that swallow all empires and learned men that dare attempt them. I am Wisdom in contrast to Knowledge; I am Freedom in contrast to Security. I am the truth that lies within madness. I am the Joy in Sex; in Conquest; in crushing a foe and hearing the scream of his womenfolk.

I am Nethemp, oldest of all Gods, come for The Concordant."

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