I notice that the intellectual calibre of posts has plummeted since my departure. For this reason (pity - why are you afraid of telling me what's preventing you from admitting that you know I was the lodestar, rara avis and lynchpin of AWADtalk?), for Auld Lang Syne, and as a show New Year's magnanimity, I have decided to consider reconsidering if, and, I stress, only if, I recieve a sufficient number of supplicatory personal messages by way of petition for my return.
How we managed to stumble along for five years without you is beyond me.
"Years ago my mother used to say to me... 'In this world, Elwood, you must be Oh-so-smart, or Oh-so-pleasant.' Well, for years I was smart— I recommend pleasant. You may quote me." ~Elwood P. Dowd, "Harvey."
Great line, and wise, papi.
I stress, only if, I recieve a sufficient number of supplicatory personal messages by way of petition for my return. Uh Uh, No No, No PMs.
Gotta' be right out here in the open where we can all see.
Thank you, Homo Loquens, I needed a comical relief after failing a test.
Come back, Homo, you need Awad more than Awad needs you.
The motley Awaders here will serve as precursors to the people who you will amaze with your brilliance and offend with your arrogrance in your adult life yet to come.
Here you will learn humility and politeness to go with your role as a self-described lynchpin.
I, for one, beg for your return.
And I have the proxy of two shy others.
Camile: (with one eye popped at the audience) Not a faggot in the house?! Look on the street; there's bound to be one there.
Charles Ludlam as -
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I stress, only if, I recieve a sufficient number of supplicatory personal messages by way of petition for my return.
I don't believe we have a sufficient number of active members to achieve your lofty expectations. (oh, BTW, you seem to have misspelled "recieve".)
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you seem to have misspelled "recieve"
Yes. I see that. And it is devastating to my (jocose) attempt at extravagantly disgusting intellectual hauteur. But on second thought (to wit, "A man of genius makes no mistakes. His errors are volitional and are the portals of discovery") I can put it down to parapraxis. The repressed motive? To furnish the board with something to retort with to mitigate the potential offence of my gambit.
In this way (by post hoc, ergo propter hoc hypothesis) Homo Loquens preserves both the stratospheric esteem in which you all hold him, as well as his cherished but fragile delusions of intellectual grandeur.
But enough showboating.
Happy new years!
Oh and Consuelo, your lengthy personal message (albeit a little on the servile side for my taste) was appreciated. Thank you.
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Oh and Consuelo, your lengthy personal message (albeit a little on the servile side for my taste) was appreciated. Thank you.
Ha! Connie?! Servile?! That'll be the day!
Excuse me, but I have not sent any personal messages to Homoloquens since his initial postings. I certainly have not sent him any in response to this thread.
Thank you, Faldage, for posting this.
IT'S HARD TO BE HUMBLE
by Mac Davis
[Chorus]
Oh Lord It's Hard to be humble
When you're perfect
in every way.
I can't wait
To look in the mirror.
'Cause I get better
looking each day.
To know me is to love me.
I must be a hell of a man.
Oh Lord It's hard to be humble,
but I'm doing
the best that I can.
I used to
have a girlfriend,
but I guess
she just couldn't compete,
with all of these
love-starved women,
who keep clowering
at my feet.
Oh I probably could
find me another,
but I guess they're all in awe of me.
Who cares?
I never get lonsome.
'Cause I treasure my own company.
[Chorus]
Oh Lord It's Hard to be humble
When you're perfect
in every way.
I can't wait
To look in the mirror.
'Cause I get better
looking each day.
To know me is to love me.
I must be a hell of a man.
Oh Lord It's hard to be humble,
but I'm doing
the best that I can.
I guess you could say
I'm a loner.
A cowboy out
lone, tough, and proud.
I could have lots of friends
If I wanted.
But then I wouldn't
stand out from the crowd.
Some folks say that
I'm egotistical.
Hell I don't even know
what that means.
I guess it has something to do
with the way that I
fill out my skin-tight jeans.
[Chorus]
Oh Lord It's Hard to be humble
When you're perfect
in every way.
I can't wait
To look in the mirror.
'Cause I get better
looking each day.
To know me is to love me.
I must be a hell of a man.
Oh Lord It's hard to be humble,
but I'm doing
the best that I can.
I'm dooing the best that I caaaaan.
--(c) 1975 by Mac Davis
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Come back, Homo, you need Awad more than Awad needs you.
The motley Awaders here will serve as precursors to the people who you will amaze with your brilliance and offend with your arrogrance in your adult life yet to come.
Here you will learn humility and politeness to go with your role as a self-described lynchpin.
I, for one, beg for your return.
And I have the proxy of two shy others.
milo, I was just wondering what your opinion of this guy is now, now that we've all had a chance to see a bit more of his brilliance; and how do you think he's doing on the learning humility and politeness part?
and what about those two proxies?
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milo, I was just wondering what your opinion of this guy is now, now that we've all had a chance to see a bit more of his brilliance; and how do you think he's doing on the learning humility and politeness part?
and what about those two proxies?
Let me so far presume upon our acquaintance which, however slight it may appear if judged by the standard of mere time, is founded, as I hope and believe, on a sentiment of mutual esteem, as to request of you forgiveness. But, should I have overstepped the limits of reserve let the sincerity of my feelings be the excuse for my boldness. I appreciate to the full the motives which actuate your conduct and I am consoled by the reflection that, though the message be one of sorrow, the proof of confidence evident in your candour extenuates in some measure the bitterness of the cup. And now, at last, suffer me to take your hand: The goodness of your heart, I feel sure, will dictate to you better than my inadequate words the expressions which are most suitable to convey an emotion whose poignancy, were I to give vent to my feelings, would deprive me even of speech: My disconsolate heart has been rived in twain with sorrow.
Politeness = 9
Humility = (the
words have *some)
Originality = 2
Sincerity = ? (Hmmm...)
Proxys = at least 1 (James Joyce)
"So Bob Doran comes lurching around asking Bloom to tell Mrs Dignam he was sorry for her trouble and he was very sorry about the funeral and to tell her that he said and everyone who knew him said that there was never a truer, a finer than poor little Willy that's dead to tell her. Choking with bloody foolery. And shaking Bloom's hand doing the tragic to tell her that. Shake hands, brother. You're a rogue and I'm another.
-- Let me, said he, so far presume upon our acquaintance which, however slight it may appear if judged by the standard of mere time, is founded, as I hope and believe, on a sentiment of mutual esteem, as to request of you this favour. But, should I have overstepped the limits of reserve let the sincerity of my feelings be the excuse for my boldness.
-- No, rejoined the other, I appreciate to the full the motives which actuate your conduct and I shall discharge the office you entrust to me consoled by the reflection that, though the errand be one of sorrow, this proof of your confidence sweetens in some measure the bitterness of the cup.
-- Then suffer me to take your hand, said he. The goodness of your heart, I feel sure, will dictate to you better than my inadequate words the expressions which are most suitable to convey an emotion whose poignancy, were I to give vent to my feelings, would deprive me even of speech."
Ulysses, Chapter 12, Part One~James Joyce
That knocks the politeness factor waaay down, as it is terribly impolite to quote someone else's works without acknowledging the author.
Ulysses is famous. That is the point. It is a quotation of that famous burlesque of maudlin and ridiculous civility, such as I intended to imply was being expected of me here.
As I said in a private message recently, what this place lacks is attitude. It's like a knitting circle for a bunch of old cross-word biddies.
But consuelo -- in her impatience to try and expose me as a plagiarist, perhaps in an effort to rid the board of someone who threatens her intelligence -- sees fit to quote the passage at length, having googled a few keywords, and utterly kill the joke.
So anyway, like, yah, consuelo, cos' you are on the subject, how do you think the, like, symbolisation of the figure of Polyphemeus of ancient Greece in the Fenian Citizen of fin-de-siècle Dublin bears on the metempsychotic Ulysses in the particular episode you have pasted there?
Listen. The episode you have raised for discussion is The Cyclops. It's not part one. It's from part two. There can be no "Chapter 12, Part One" because part one consist of only three chapters.
This all frustrates me, but then I look at your photo. A beautiful woman will be forgiven for stupidity.
You will not.
Don't provoke Homo Loquens. He will make you look like a fool.
The First Epistle of Paul to the Corinthians
XIII
[1] IF I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am become sounding brass, or a clanging cymbal.
[2] And if I have the gift of prophecy, and know all mysteries and all knowledge; and if I have all faith, so as to remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing.
I dunno Homo, I enjoyed having you around because people with egos are usually entertaing, but anyone who would paraphrase Ulysess and then claim the jumbled words as his own becomes a suspect in an advanced case of incurable egoism.
It is rude to made a person read several paragraph twice only to find stupid rambling musings.
Damit Homolo, I lied when I said I had two shy proxy votes in your favor. I just wanted you to stop pouting. Now I think that an open apology to everyone here is in order if you ever hope to get your Awad approval ratings above the coveted fifty percent.
I have began to stoop one rung lower than character assassinations. I am now slandering the appearance of posters' from their avatars. I have become disgusting. Contemptible. Despicable. But this monster has resulted from a failure of homeostatic coercion just as the condemned murderer on the cruciform execution gurney is martyred for the sins of a society of whose law of averages he is the inevitable aberration. I am a Pneumatic Gnostic among Hylics. A frustrated Titan on a foundering Ship of Fools. You push each other around in the dark, I shudder in the ugly light. You are grey and brown. I am garish as a poisonous insect. My posts are interesting. A coach-a-bower is certainly more interesting than "Does this telephone commercial make sense" or the question of some idiot who doesn't know how to use a thesaurus. But you all chose to ignore that thread like a group of catty schoolgirls. Why? Because if my posts are not genuinely interesting, they are wonderfully ridiculous: yes, iamkimjoochang. The man who will not admit that is funny is an old goat who knows nothing about life. I like tswum, Father Steve, Ted, themilum (because it appears his imagination has, until recently, accommodated the idiosyncrasies of genius) and a few others. But as for the rest of you (of troy, Jackie, consuelo, et al) when I read your posts I would like to ram the jagged end of a broken bottle in to my face. My grandmother has more interesting things to say than you, and she actually is an old cryptic crossword biddy (bless her soul). Seriously. Your posts bore me to distraction. And so, after all my hard work to try and bring some life to this board I must finally admit, fcuk this, it is too late: You. Are. Dead.
Could I send you a bottle or two?
I'm hoping we just got 1 Down....
Don't provoke Homo Loquens. He will make you look like a fool. Ha-ha: only if we permit it!
I am finding this very amusing, all of a sudden. Eta, let's try for 25
across, shall we?
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My posts are interesting. A coach-a-bower is certainly more interesting than "Does this telephone commercial make sense" or the question of some idiot who doesn't know how to use a thesaurus. But you all chose to ignore that thread like a group of catty schoolgirls. Why? Because if my posts are not genuinely interesting, they are wonderfully ridiculous: yes, iamkimjoochang. The man who will not admit that is funny is an old goat who knows nothing about life. I like tswum, Father Steve, Ted, themilum (because it appears his imagination has, until recently, accommodated the idiosyncrasies of genius) and a few others. But as for the rest of you (of troy, Jackie, consuelo, et al) when I read your posts I would like to ram the jagged end of a broken bottle in to my face. My grandmother has more interesting things to say than you, and she actually is an old cryptic crossword biddy (bless her soul). Seriously. Your posts bore me to distraction. And so, after all my hard work to try and bring some life to this board I must finally admit, fcuk this, it is too late: You. Are. Dead.
This seems, to me anyway, like a form of mental self-abuse. I'm sure you can get help for it. Somewhere else, please. As a troll you're not even a beginner.
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I would like to ram the jagged end of a broken bottle in to my face.
Please do.
How soon do you think you might be able to shove that bottle in your face? Looking at your avatar, I would have to say it would be an improvement.
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I would like to ram the jagged end of a broken bottle in to my face.
Please do.
Whatever makes you happy, HL.
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I would like to ram the jagged end of a broken bottle in to my face.
Please do.
Can I sell tickets?
Hee, hee--other peoples' funnybones seem to have been activated, as well. Mav, maybe we should sell tickets to the next performances; the more feeble and transparent, the funnier I'm finding it!
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Hee, hee--other peoples' funnybones seem to have been activated, as well. Mav, maybe we should sell tickets to the next performances; the more feeble and transparent, the funnier I'm finding it!
Heh... me too! The recent replies to the pseudo-intellectual's non-existent (for me) posts have had me laughing into my keyboard so that I have almost been tempted to un-ignore him/her/it... but will I? Nah... I'm enjoying the one-sided conversation too much! S/he/it is entirely prescindible.
Thanks, guys.
prescindible, prescindibles
adjective
dispensable, nonessential
prescindir
verb, intransitive
to omit, leave out (e.g. omitir)
to ignore, disregard (e.g. hacer caso omiso)
to do without (e.g privarse)
THE Tragicall Historie of HOMO LOQUENS, Prince of AWADtalk as yt was latelie Acted by the Lord Ullriche his servants.
* * * * *
V, ii.
HOMO LOQUENS: Marry, 'twas miching mallecho! That it was!
KING AWAD: You are keen! you are keen! a merry rogue! But stay. Homo loquens, this pearl is thine; Here's to thy health. [Aside] Give him the cup.
HOMO LOQUENS: For this relief much thanks.
[He drinks
How does this? It likes me not! 'Swounds! The drink, the drink!-- I am poison'd. O Villiany! Ho!
[He falls
O, I die! I am poisoned! The rest is silence!
[Dies
A great uproarious plaudit.
CHORUS: He is justly served; It is a poison temper'd by himself. [Aside] Thou marvellest at my words, but hold there still: Things bad begun make strong themselves by ill.
[Exeunt omnes
FINIS.
Stand not upon the order of your going, but go at once.
And stay the hell away this time.
Come on Teddy (can I call you Teddy?), don't be cute : You know you love me.
He got trouble, he got strife
He got difficulty in his life
He got trouble walkin' on his toes
And I think there's something wrong with his nose
And he don't know where he's goin'
And he don't care where he's been
But now he knows he's alive givin' out with his jive
And he's makin' me pale with his sad little tale about love
He got women, he got wine
He got everything to make him feel fine
He got everything this world can give
But he still don't know how to wake up and live
And he don't know where he's goin'
And he don't care where he's been
But now he knows he's alive givin' out with his jive
And he's makin' me pale with his sad little tale about love
'Cause he be too black and too proud
Or too white and too loud
He be too low or too high
The difference is he's frightened and he don't know how to try
And he don't know where he's goin'
And he don't care where he's been
But now he knows he's alive givin' out with his jive
And he's makin' me pale with his sad little tale about love
Xasper~Shawn Phillips
> he got wine
Should be whine.
Love the post consuelo!
Thanks.
I love it! And I love you!
Well, it's true!
Finally, I've seen the light!
The reason I have been annoying everyone?
It has been nothing but a desperate cry from the heart for... LOVE!
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Come on Teddy (can I call you Teddy?), don't be cute : You know you love me.
Can you? Yes. May you? No.
Well, if I had wanted to alter the lyrics, I would have written:
He hates women, he's got whine
but I decided to let the lyrics be.
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Can you? Yes. May you? No.
HOMO LOQUENS (Slapping his thigh ebulliently) : Ha! That's brilliant!
(Grinning and shaking his head, he gives vent to a splendid sigh):
Ahhhhh Teddy, that's what we love about you! And that's why I gave you especial mention in my pseudoantepenultimate post... you're so... so...
(canting his head on one side, squinting, and biting his lip):
Dry!
That's the word I'm looking for! Dry! And, to be quite honest, in a very queer sort of a way, it touches a man's inmost heart to be gently ribbed by someone he loves. Yes because it shows you know the love between us is unshakable!
And I love that!
Neo: You are programs.
Rama-Kandra: Oh yes. I am the power plant systems manager for recycling operations. My wife is an interactive software programmer, she is highly creative.
Kamala: What are you doing here? You do not belong here.
Rama-Kandra: Kamala, Goodness, I apologize. My wife can be very direct.
Neo: It's OK. I don't have an answer. I don't even know where "here" is.
Rama-Kandra: This place is nowhere. It is between your world and our world.
Neo: Who is the train man?
Rama-Kandra: He works for the Frenchman.
Neo: Why did I know you were going to say that.
Rama-Kandra: The Frenchman does not forget. And he does not forgive.
Neo: Do you know him?
Rama-Kandra: I know only what I need to know. I know that if you want to take something from our world into your world that does not belong there, you must go to the Frenchman.
Neo: Is that what you're doing here?
Kamala: Rama, please.
Rama-Kandra: I do not want to be cruel, Kamala. He may never see another face for the rest of his life.
Neo: I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that question.
Rama-Kandra: No, I don't mind. The answer is simple. (Looks at his daughter, who beams back.) I love my daughter very much. I find her to be the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. But where we are from, that is not enough. Every program that is created must have a purpose, if it does not, it is deleted. I went to the Frenchman to save my daughter. ... You do not understand.
Neo: I just have never...
Rama-Kandra: Heard of programs speak of love.
Neo: It is a human emotion.
Rama-Kandra: No, it is a word. What matters is the connection the word implies. I see that you are in love. Can you tell me what you would give to hold onto that connection?
Neo: Anything.
Rama-Kandra: Then perhaps the reason you are here is not so different than the reason I am here.
Later:
Neo: You're not staying with her [Sati] ?
Rama-Kandra: It is not possible. Our arrangement with the Frenchman was for our daughter only. My wife and I must return to our world.
Neo: Why?
Rama-Kandra: That is our karma.
Neo: You believe in Karma?
Rama-Kandra: "Karma" is a word, like "love." A way of saying, "what I am here to do." I do not resent my karma, I am grateful for it. Grateful for my wonderful wife, for my beautiful daughter, they are gifts, and so I do what I must do to honor them.
Andy Wachowski & Larry Wachowski (2003)
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prescindible, prescindibles
adjective
dispensable, nonessential
prescindir
verb, intransitive
to omit, leave out (e.g. omitir)
to ignore, disregard (e.g. hacer caso omiso)
to do without (e.g privarse)
Ooops, sorry, folks 
... I thought "prescindible" was also English. I'm sure I've heard the verb "prescind from", no?
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prescindible, prescindibles
adjective
dispensable, nonessential
prescindir
verb, intransitive
to omit, leave out (e.g. omitir)
to ignore, disregard (e.g. hacer caso omiso)
to do without (e.g privarse)
Ooops, sorry, folks ... I thought "prescindible" was also English. I'm sure I've heard the verb "prescind from", no?
Yerp, it's English. Don't know about the prepo one way or another, tho.
Quote:
I notice that the intellectual calibre of posts has plummeted since my departure.
Not to sound to doltish and un-intellectual, for I am just one of the low level maggots that crawls around here on A-WAD, but since when does this forum or group run purely off of what you do. think, say or orate to the public at large? Whom gave you the authority to go about saying whether or not I or anyone else has any intelligence?
My first initial thoughts concerning you, when I happened upon a differing thread that you have posted, was that hum here is a man who just might see the lighter side of life.
Silly me! {slaps her self on the fore-head}
Then I come to this thread and OMG! I can not believe what I am reading. And yes I am so upset by all of this that I am reverting to my base nature of using little words in the hopes that they just might make sense due to, oh that is right, I am not intelligent enough to have any calibre to my posts.
I would think, and may haps this is where my faux pas is centered, that a man, who obviously has a some what higher then normal etymological and intellectual understanding of the english language, just might assist in building up your fellow man, lead them on, show them how to speak or understand the higher words and language usages that are available.
But alas this is not what is shown at all. I see that you depict very well what you are doing in your following statement, and I quote:
Quote:
I have began to stoop one rung lower than character assassinations. I am now slandering the appearance of posters' from their avatars. I have become disgusting. Contemptible. Despicable. But this monster has resulted from a failure of homeostatic coercion just as the condemned murderer on the cruciform execution gurney is martyred for the sins of a society of whose law of averages he is the inevitable aberration. I am a Pneumatic Gnostic among Hylics. A frustrated Titan on a foundering Ship of Fools. You push each other around in the dark, I shudder in the ugly light. You are grey and brown. I am garish as a poisonous insect.
But unfortunately you yet again step down and beat those whom do not meet you particular high standards as is evident in the following:
Quote:
My posts are interesting. A coach-a-bower is certainly more interesting than "Does this telephone commercial make sense" or the question of some idiot who doesn't know how to use a thesaurus. But you all chose to ignore that thread like a group of catty schoolgirls. Why? Because if my posts are not genuinely interesting, they are wonderfully ridiculous: yes, iamkimjoochang. The man who will not admit that is funny is an old goat who knows nothing about life. I like tswum, Father Steve, Ted, themilum (because it appears his imagination has, until recently, accommodated the idiosyncrasies of genius) and a few others. But as for the rest of you (of troy, Jackie, consuelo, et al) when I read your posts I would like to ram the jagged end of a broken bottle in to my face. My grandmother has more interesting things to say than you, and she actually is an old cryptic crossword biddy (bless her soul). Seriously. Your posts bore me to distraction. And so, after all my hard work to try and bring some life to this board I must finally admit, fcuk this, it is too late: You. Are. Dead.
This saddens and sickens me. I am going on record as saying I want nothing to do with you or your misguided ideals; unless, and this is only unless, you manage to pull your head out of the clouds and realize you are human right along with the rest of us. I admit whole heartedly that I every now and then use a thesaurus, especially when I can not remember a word that is on the tip of my tongue. I admit I am not a genius with words and get tripped up at times. I admit that I am human and ask what looks like stupid questions. But you know what?! I was always taught that if I do not know something, ask! For to not ask is worse then asking and getting a stupid answer.
With this said, I will end my little, silly and un-intellectual statement which will just bore you to tears and allow you to want to place that bottle through your face time and again.