Dulce Et Decorum Est Pro Patria Mori

Thu, 01/28/2010 — Rev. Ragu

My Darling Henrietta,

How I miss you, my sweet; your hazel eyes, the feel of your lips as we kiss, the warmth of your stomach as we lay together, all the love we made on bright and moonlit nights. It is, quite simply, hell to be here, so far away from you. We've been camped out in this city for a week now, this unnamed city in the border regions of Blue Moon, painting buildings red, red, the colour of my allegiance, the colour of my blood. My dearest Henrietta, I remember your tear-streaked face as you held yourself to my chest, begging me to reconsider my decision to enlist, and I now wonder if you might have been right. I joined this fight thinking myself to be doing the right thing, for love of country and love of you, and how I would give anything to protect both you and it. Ah, but I was so young then; perhaps my patriotism was only the young man's need for adventure, excitement, for glory and honour and all that nonsense. Here I am now, my uniform stained with mud and blood; both my own and of others, my face drawn, my body in perpetual readiness despite the sheer exhaustion from the sleep I could not get even if I was allowed. We hear the rumbling of tanks, the exploding of shells, and with each great roar of battle an inevitably agonizing silence follows. In the suffocating stillness our minds fill in the blanks, of all the dead men, the injured writhing in agony, machines lying smouldering and their occupants rent to dust. Maybe we'll be next.

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An Expression of the Absolute

Mon, 10/18/2004 — Sak

Sprawled across my couch, cigarette dangling out of my fingers; Luigi Nono's performance of Mahler's Kindertotenlieder plays in the background.

...Von keinem Sturm erschrecket,
Von Gottes Hand bedecket...

It takes me back. 1985. I was studying in Gottingen then; the humanities division. I read Moliere and Holderlin with a fervent passion, the kind of passion that can only burn deep inside that of a young person. The candle was set aflame, the fire spread to every portion of my body, fueling my appetitive spirit with a deep-seeded ambition, the conviction that the world was my playground. The conviction that I could do no wrong. The horizons of my world were about to be shattered, however; my world would soon come crashing down.

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On the Varieties of the Experience of Videogaming Love

Tue, 09/21/2004 — Sak

To my Dearest Daisy,

Feverishly scribbling down the the thoughts that manifest themselves in the inner-recesses of my mind, I find them trite, for I am a trite man. O, Shakespeare, your incomparable paradox; "Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all," yet -- we all judge. I have been judged by the very faculties of my love -- Daisy! O, Daisy! The very winter of my soul transcends into spring at the mere mention of your name! Your ability to inspire apes to kidnap you is known from the farthest stretches of land, yet -- my affections are misplaced, for you do not even recognize my face.

Pascal, o, damn'd Pascal! I do have much to lose, and the thought of your wager makes my very quintessence burn with a vivacious passion of rancor! Daisy, o, damn'd Daisy! The times you would entertain my brother in the parlour of our very abode, you would not even bid me adieu. My spirit was that of a boy then, and I am a man now. No longer will I be a trite man!

Daisy, the indeterminate has cleary kindled its fire in the passion of love! Daisy, o, Daisy! My heart burns -- extinguish it, for you are the only one who can.

With a fervent love,

Boggy '84's Big Date

Fri, 08/27/2004 — Sak

Uh, yeah. I, uh --- I had a good time tonight. My number? Oh, uh, listen I -- you know how the city has been integrating that new area code system in? Yeah, well they changed my number and -- (sigh) listen. Things just didn't -- they didn't pan out the way they should've. I'm a geometrically awkward thief with a cleft chin, humongous nose, comically crossed eyes, and a hilarious felt hat that refuses to stay atop my noggin, and you're a -- well, you're a monkey.

It's not that, it -- it's not the species thing. Well it's not just the species thing. That whole pogo trick is great, but Christ, you were doing it all night; I mean you knew you'd be getting attention all Goddamn night. Those fellows in the blue and yellow suits are still following us! Look! Listen, I just -- I need to go. As soon as I find my unnecessarily large car key on this gigantic ring, I'm outta here.

This also might not be the right time to tell you this but I believe the person who drew us might be retarded.

Your Video Card Is Not Good Enough To Run This Dating Sim

Thu, 08/26/2004 — Fasteriskhead

Well that's no surprise, considering I've been going after Pinky-chan this entire time.

I guess I'll choose Imp on the next playthrough.

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