This forum

noooo my scheme








(Fate point to anyone who knows what I'm referencing!)

 

I hate you all.

 

I hate everyone except wayne-scales, for whom I have a fondness that borders on the homo-erotic.

 

Long time no see Scientist. Still working on Arcanum?

 

Motion Seconded. Vote by the sign of a T-A member.

 

I thought the sign of a T-A member was that they answered "Muro" in every vote.

 

That would be Muro.

 

Muro.

 

That's too Muro. What Muro'd the Muro?

 

To be Muro or not being Muro? That is the question.

 

Muro, or not Muro--that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler on the board to heap
Up posts and bleatings of outrageous nature
Or damming sense, against a sea of spamming
Fools with your own wits correct them. To post - to troll -
No more and by this rest to say we end
The headache, and the thousand dumb remarks
The ‘net is heir to. 'Tis a culmination
Devoutly to be wished. To disconnect-
Hold on - perchance to surf: ay, there's the rub,
For in that surfing quest for unrelated
Facts, the smallish step to active trolling
Must give us pause. There's no respect
For those who post they’ve left the board “forever;”
For who believes their cry and whine of pain,
Th' attention whores, the proud man's vanity
The seekers of strife, the forum’s bane,
So insolent of office, and yet so craven,
When once th’ admin takes their precious post away;
Since they themselves might quietus make
Without a farewell post? Who would spammers hear,
To bring derailment to the topics’ plot,
But that spam themselves, to give the cycle life,
The unenlightened discourse, from whose bourn
No lack of Hitler present, puzzles the few,
And makes us rather bear those ills we see
And maintain silence through a moody lurking?
Thus conscience makes no mark upon the bots,
And thus strength of forum F.A.Q.
Is sicklied o'er with the stale lack of thought,
And enterprise to posting good and true
Without regard to its inception turns awry
And takes the name of memes.

 

Quincy, good to see you.

Muro.

 

That was brilliant.

I take off my hat to the poet.

 

And I heard a voice in the midst of the four beasts
And I looked and behold, a pale horse
And his name that sat on him was Muro
And Hell followed with him.

 

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one called Muro,
And that has made all the difference.

 

A man lay on his deathbed, surrounded by friends and family.
Suddenly, his feeble form stiffened, as if struck by a bolt of lightning-
He was no longer surrounded by his loved ones whom he had accumulated over the course of his lifetime, but instead was surrounded by strange forms reminiscent of sock puppets.
What manner of place is this? asked the man, Have I died? Am I no longer on a familiar plane of existence?
A booming voice sounded from above;
All has been revealed to you. You remain where you once were, but the truth has been shown. All you've come to love in life was but my will. Your family, your friends...each one of them a portion of myself. Even you, yes you, are but an aspect of my true self. Welcome home, my puppet.

But...who...what, are you?

I am Muro, who's guiding hand resides within all.

 

.....can't resist, sorry...

*whose

 

DAMN YOU AND YOUR GRAMMAR!

Nah, it's cool. I was in a rush and forgot to be anal about it myself. Interesting, considering we've all got something up there...

 

That's what she said!