Stoopid Cat, Stoopid Cat, What are they feeding you? Stoopid Cat, Stoopid Cat It's not your fault
Abin won't take you to Dr. Gym'll You're obviously not his Jimmy Kimmel Stoopid Cat, Stoopid Cat, It's not your fault
You may not be a bed of roses You're not friend to those with noses I'll miss you before we're done Or the world will smell as one
Stoopid Cat, Stoopid Cat, What are they feeding you? Stoopid Cat, Stoopid Cat It's not your fault.
From: Vancouver, BC, Canada | Registered: Dec 2003
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Once upon a midnight dreary, while I posted, eyes a-bleary, Citing forgotten trivia culled from Legion Archives - volume four, While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a flapping, As of some one loudly fapping, fapping by my office door. `'Tis some poster,' I muttered, `fapping by my office door - Only Lardy, nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak September, And each long-time Legion World member posted daily at Shake's Bar. Eagerly I read the past threads; - scanning all the bygone mastheads Noting very aged "last reads" - centering around Dawnstar - For the winged Legionnaire whom Paul Levitz named Dawnstar - Rarely named here anymore.
And the growing wind now outside, as if by that winged Star-Guide Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic thoughts I'd never thought before; So that now, to still the racing of my mind, I said, now pacing `'Nihil, you must be spacing, just go to the office door - Some late poster just wants entrance, outside your office door; - This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently it grew annoying; honestly, a wee bit cloying, `STU,' said I, `or Cramer, you know your posts I never would ignore; But the fact is I was nappin', like a post-boot Nura Schappin, And so loudly you came flappin', flappin' outside my office door, Rest assured that I have heard you' - here I opened wide the door; - Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness squinting, inky as Flexographic printing, Darker than e'en the depths where swims Shark Lad, and that's bizarre, But the silence there was total, and you'll find this anecdotal, But not a word would show 'til I heard the whispered word, `Dawnstar!' This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Dawnstar!' Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the office running, message boards I would be shunning, Soon again I heard a flapping somewhat louder than before. `Surely,' said I, `surely this is something just outside my windows; Let me see then, if Quis is there and my sanity restore - Let my heart be still a moment and my sanity restore; - 'Tis just Quis and nothing more!'
But here I came a cropper, for t'was not Quislet, nor e'en Rockhopper, Instead stepped in a Greybird from the MB days of yore. An extraordinary being; such a thing I'd not forseen; With manner quite avian, he perched beside my office door - Perched upon a maquette of Dawnstar just beside my office door - Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this strange Greybird relaxing my patience he had thus been taxing, By the grave and firm obsession to the Legionnaire he adored, `Though ye be an eccentric fellow, thou're tame as the Kid that's Yellow, Now give that old Starhaven bellow known so famously on the board - Tell me what thy alt screenname is on the Nightcrawler's Legion board!' Quoth the Greybird, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled now to hear this from a Greybird so austere, Not Monkey-Eater nor Sketch Lad dare draw the confusion that I bore; For you cannot help agreeing that no living human being Ever yet was jarred by seeing a Greybird by his office door - Bird or man upon the sculptured bust beside his office door, With such screenname as `Nevermore.'
But the Greybird, <grinning ruefully>, spoke only, I say truthfully, That one word, as if his fate in that one word he did abhor. Nothing further then he posted - on the site Lightning Lad hosted - 'Til presciently I boasted, `Ah, you'll be back, as others before - On the morrow you will post again, as many others have before.' Said Greybird, then, `Nevermore.'
Startled at the resoluteness of this bird I ceased my cuteness And said, `What of Vee? Or He Who Wanders? They've posted more. Everyone takes posting breaks, you should take just how long it takes you Until this melancholy shakes you, 'til you reestablish rapport - 'Til again you post with wit, elan, and find once more rapport And have none of "Nevermore."'
But the Greybird, ever sad'ning, drove my patient mood to mad'ning, Straight I wheeled my office chair in front of bird and bust and door; Then, upon my Ikea purchase, I betook myself to search his Face for meaning, this being who perches 'pon the maquette by my door - What did this usually far from terse or tacit Greybird by my door Mean in croaking `Nevermore.'?
I must admit, the bird did throw me, for I am no Lash or Cobie Nor Eryk Davis Ester with post counts in the thousand score; But with my line of query, tho the bird's extraordinary, I would dodge and thrust and parry 'til we got down to the core, Until the fruit of knowledge was consumed right to the core. I must know. `Nevermore.'!
As when torched flame touches solder, methought, the air grew hotter, Like Gigantic Robotic Lesbian off in search of babes galore. `Bird,' I cried, `what board hath lent thee - which foul moderator sent thee Respite - respite, repent thee from thy postings of Dawnstar! Enough', said I, 'let's post of other things and forget Dawnstar!' Quoth the Greybird, `Nevermore.'
`Greybird!' said I, `you are a mystery! - you know your Legion history! - As with Chaim Mattis Keller you can cite issue, page, panel, and more -, Yet you come here something seeking, of what it be you are not speaking - To be honest, you are freaking me out, so I must now implore - Is there - more to this than Dawnstar? - tell me - tell me, I implore!' Quoth the Greybird, `Nevermore.'
`Greybird!' said I, `this fixation! - this character of your admiration, Tho beauteous, true, I fear she may your reputation permanently scar - Come with me with your wings unfurled off to the boards of Legion World, Permanent lifetime ban be hurled, we'll post of other than Dawnstar - Post of other than the Legionnaire whom Paul Levitz named Dawnstar!' Quoth the Greybird, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, then fair Greybird!' I shrieked upstarting - `Get thee back up to Starhaven or where-ever such as you shall soar! I'm sure no harm you've meant me, but I'd rather post with Caliente Or that Shakespeare fellow, Kent, he never haunts about my door! Take thy Dawnstar postings with thee, take thy form from off my door!' Quoth the Greybird, `Nevermore.'
And the Greybird, never shirking, still is lurking, still is lurking On the sculpted bust of Dawnstar just beside my office door; And his eyes have all the seeming of a preboot dream he's dreaming, And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws plumed shadows on the floor; And the thoughts from out that shadow that lie flutt'ring on the floor Shall be posted - nevermore!
-------------------- See Here for the latest update on the 2013 Chicago Gathering (now including tentative attendance list)
Registered: Feb 2008
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Cramer said to STU Rat, .....that “My sobriquet ............‘Fat’, was not ...............earned by eating ................the rodents I can ..............catch.-- Come, Let’s .............go to my Cafe; ...........We will talk .........over latte: I .......assure you .....that my mew ..hides no scratch.” .......Said the Rat, .............to the kitty, ...............“It seems such ..................a pity, just ......................drinking our ....................coffee with- ...................out some- ...............thing sweet.” ............“Oh, you ........needn’t wor- .....ry; if you’re ...not in a .hurry: ....in just ......a bit, ........I’ll have ............some- ...............thing ...................to ....................eat.”
-------------------- See Here for the latest update on the 2013 Chicago Gathering (now including tentative attendance list)
Registered: Feb 2008
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posted
From the musical, "ALTS!" as adapted from the poetry of T. X. Nihiliot:
The choosing of alts is a difficult matter, It isn't just one of Spaceopoly's games; All of your newbie illusions I'll shatter When I tell you most posters have THREE DIFFERENT SCREEN-NAMES.
First of all, there's the name that one uses to register, Such as Jerry, Ricardo, CJ Taylor (he claims!) Such as Caleb, Nick Vinson, or Chaim Mattis Keller- All of them sensible decent screen-names.
There are comic-y names used on Legion World, Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames; Such as Star Boy, Kent Shakespeare, Kinetix, Phantom Girl- But all of them sensible decent screen-names.
But I tell you, a poster needs a name of "alt" factor, A name that is unique, and chosen with wit, Else how can he tell his odd tales in character, Adding to the mythos, and expanding it?
Of names of this kind, there are a plethora, Such as Mayavale, Koko, or the Barbarian Hrun, Such as Everyday Girl, or else matriarch Thora- Names that might belong to more than just one.
But above and beyond there's still one name left over, And that is the name he was born with in truth; The name that you just one day might discover- Should you meet him in person at the Comic-Con booth.
When you notice a poster in a profound state of lurking, The reason, I tell you, is always the same: His mind is engaged in overtime, working On the thought, on the thought, on the thought of his name: His infappable fappable fappin-infappable Carefully chosen Legion screen-name.
-------------------- See Here for the latest update on the 2013 Chicago Gathering (now including tentative attendance list)
Registered: Feb 2008
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posted
The Love Song of G. Robotic Lesbian By T.S. EliUTS
(abridged)
Let us post then, you and I, When the evening is spread out against the sky Like an engine disassembled in a garage; Let us post, on certain half-deserted boards, Where linger unwashed hoards; Spend restless nights in one-word inane threads Let speak the prepubescents in our heads: Threads that unspool like a tedious argument Of ambivalent intent To answer a question with a question... Oh, do not ask, "What is it?" ('Twas already posed by Quislet.)
In the room the womyn hurry forward Talking of the latest "L Word."
The fog of age that rubs its back upon my circuit panel (The one I decorated to resemble flannel) Licked its tongue into my well-oiled mechanisms Lingered upon the whirling gears no man'll Ever see, nor touch. Let fall like snow the soot that falls from my exhaust pipes, As I slip into the womyn's dorms, And in those matters I'm still quite pliable (Though not the kind of robot that transforms).
. . . . .
No! I am not Ellen D., nor was I meant to be; Am a rampaging alt, one that will do To goose discussion, start a scene or two And though I can be gentle when I love The females of the LMB, With males like Cobie, Pov, and Abin Quank To their never-ending woe they see I'm also full of fury, like a tank: An iron fist in iron glove.
I grow rust... I grow rust... Yet for Anti-Lad I still feel lust.
Shall I buff my gleaming mullet? Do I dare to eat a clam? I shall surely smash the boyz who call me "ma'am" And who send me breast-enlargement spam.
I do not think they will PM me.
I have seen them posting, ceaseless, on the threads Of one word, five words, six words, words that rhyme Heedless of the forward creep of time.
We have lingered in threads of the MMB Posting sexual innuendo with a heavy hand 'Til moderators catch us, and we're banned.
Registered: Jul 2003
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posted
<from the future, Exnihil suddenly appears behind a bookshelf. He is crestfallen. At the Omnichronal Orrery, Phineas B. Fuddle has just shown him footage that made it appear as though Cobalt Kid, upon receiving Ex's desperate message revealing Phineas' machinations, burned it to hide it from the rest of the LMB. Phineas further lied to Ex, claiming that Cobalt Kid was in his service, as well. Ex is out of ideas>
My god… <he muses to himself> if even Cobalt has fallen this early, what chance do we have? Phineas can get to anyone. This really is the end of Legion World. You’ve blown it, Ex.
Unless… <a slow grin creeps into his face>
…oh my God, that’s it!
I know what I have to do. I know how to close the loop!
Cobalt might be corrupted… god knows who else has been compromised… but… HE… he has to be the answer! It finally makes sense… I’ve got to finish this.
I’ve got to get to the twelfth timepiece.
<reaches into the bookshelf and pulls out a weighty tome. He blows off the dust and reads the title:
How I Did It: The Final Victory of Phineas B. Fuddle
Ex sighs>
No… Time is already being overwritten… I hope I’m not too late.
<ex opens the volume to discover a hollow core has been sliced into the pages. He reaches in and pulls out the pocketwatch, winds it, and replaces the volume>
-------------------- See Here for the latest update on the 2013 Chicago Gathering (now including tentative attendance list)
Registered: Feb 2008
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posted
I'm still in awe of "The Greybird" for several reasons, not least of which is its incredible length and scope (it takes much longer to do these things than the casual reader might think). I'm also quite taken by its use of "post-boot Nura Schnappin" (never thought I'd hear that used -- ever, anywhere -- let alone somewhere where it actually made sense!), as well as its spot-on characterization of its subject matter.
Registered: Jul 2003
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posted
Of all the threads I started since returning to LW a few months ago, this one is my favorite.
I've really been impressed by the creativity and talent of all the posters who've made contributions to the thread, and surprised at how amusing some of the classics can be when filtered through another lens. I hope that LW will continue to see more "masterposts" in the future.
[cue the Rondeau from "Symphonies and Fanfares for the King's Supper" by Jean-Joseph Mouret, as performed by a symphony consisting entirely of kazoos]
Registered: Jul 2003
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