Messages

Two entries already!  Keep 'em coming folks.  The greater the number of participants, the greater the glory of victory! 

Oh, and don't forget to have fun.  That's important.

If you don't enjoy discussing religion, there's no f-ing reason to barge in and tell everyone about it. Just pick another discussion to take part of.

You are beautiful when you are angry.   I like you for that.

There are many diseases science says it can cure but won't?  Care to name a few of those?

Malaria, which is both preventable and treatable (according to Science) and yet it kills about 500 000 people every year!.  How about that cholera epidemic that killed more Hatians than the 2010 earthquake (~ 250 000 deaths).  But maybe the media is spinning some kind of sensational yarn to sell advertisements, so let's look closer to home.  Asphyxia before birth, caused by the umbilical cord being wrapped around a baby's neck and often results in brain damage.  Easily preventable.  But I have an extended family member who will spend the rest of his life in a wheel chair and will max his vocabulary out at 100 words due to this.  Go science.

To anticipate your argument, you'll say these are examples of imperfect execution.  Science is perfect, and it's human error (individual doctor or collective political class) that has brought about these tragedies.  But, from the perspective of the man in the trenches, much the same argument can be made for why "god" allows bad things to happen while he himself remains flawless.  Both "science" and "god" are these all-powerful forces that can solve all your problems (in theory), but are just as equally likely to leave you stranded and disappointed in practice.  You may choose to believe in one or the other, and if that makes you feel more secure then so be it.  All I'm saying is that neither has convinced me, and that I still harbour doubts about both.

And how does science tell kids not to play outside?

Too much UV exposure will give you skin cancer.  Too much exposure to nitrous-oxide and other smog-born chemicals causes lung disease and possibly developmental delays in younger children.  Social science gives us crime statistics that increase the perception of danger on the street (although a close reading of those same statistics should in fact do the opposite... ), and medical studies a greater awareness of the long-term impacts of concussions and breaking the growth-zone of bones before reaching maturity.  The sum total of these perfectly rational studies is to promote a vigilant culture among parents, thereby restricting such unquantifiable aspects of childhood as "unstructured fun" in favour of caution and safety.  You can look at school regulations that clearly dissuade kids from doing anything that might maybe possibly cause them even the slightest injury.  When is the last time you saw a teeter-totter on a school yard?  Or a merry-go-round?  Or a tire ladder?  Or a game of Red-Rover?  You can find scientific studies that show that kids do not play outside as much as they used to, and that childhood obesity rates are sky-rocketing.  Why?  Because people are making rational decisions based on what science tells them, to their own and society's detriment!

If there's a radioactive cloud coming towards your house, science doesn't tell you to stay indoors, it only tells you why and how you're going to die if you don't.
Science doesn't make moral judgments. It tries to describe and understand reality.

I don't think science can distance itself from such clearly implicit recommendations.  Even if science doesn't tell you to go indoors to avoid the radioactive cloud, a reasonable person could anticipate that as the understood instruction.  In a court of law it is not so much the exact wording of the fine print as the interpretation of that fine print by a reasonable person that would make a party culpable or not.  Science can not wash it's hands of the consequences of its discoveries with an "I'm just saying...." remark that will absolve it of all responsibility.

If your view of religion is similarly removed from reality, I'd almost feel inclined to defend it. The notion that Hebrews didn't eat pork because of infections if completely ridiculous. They knew nothing of microorganisms.

But they knew eating pork was making some people sick, and so agreed with their prophets and stopped....  Don't you see the parallel between "prophet" and "study"?  Both convince you to change your lifestyle as, for all intents and purposes if you're just an everyman, a matter of faith.

I love you guys.  In a neighbourly, christian kind of way, and also in a carnal vulgar man-loving kind of way: that should embrace and alienate everyone sufficiently to get your attention.

I'm impressed by the fervour of the arguments of both the religious and atheistic among you: you obviously hold your beliefs very strongly as evidenced by your willingness to argue them endlessly with the hope of.... well, being proven right, I suppose.  I myself have a hard time believing either way.  I must confess I doubt in the existence of a supreme being or flying spaghetti monster or whatever, mostly due to lack of evidence but also due to the self-interested delusions of the most zealous believers (isn't it handy that god told you to oppress those other folk and not the other way around....).  By inclination the cult of reason appeals to me, but then as has been pointed out in the thread it ought to, since that's how I was raised.  And yet, to be truthful, I have a hard time seeing the world as a reasonable place.  For all the blood and treasure sacrificed to science, it is in many ways as aloof and impotent on the ground as any divinity.  Yes we don't die all the time of trivial diseases any more, but then the Hebrews giving up pork probably solved a lot of needless disease-caused death too.  There's lots of diseases which science can't cure, and many more that it says it can but won't.  Also I am frustrated by the feature creep of rationality.  Small decisions made for rational reasons culminate in a straightjacket of regulation that strangles spontaneity and initiative: I won't gripe on with examples, I'm sure you can think of them.  Kids don't explore/play outside any more because everything is rationally dangerous to some degree, etc. 
     So I'm left dubious of anything that makes grandiose promises of a better life or offers to teach me to improve myself.  I guess the official term is agnostic, but I even doubt that term encapsulates everything I'm not sure of.  I don't like hate, but I guess there's a time and place for everything (to be a good person you really ought to hate what the Nazis stood for).  Being good is appealing, but it leaves you vulnerable to those who would take advantage of unconditional goodness.  So where are the absolutes that can dispel my doubts?  I am reminded of one of my grandfather's favourite sayings: "All things in moderation.  But not that much moderation."

Peace be with you sometimes maybe. 

[completely new]

My [unfinished] story from last time fits this theme too! Would I be allowed to enter it? Or does it have to be completely new?

Seriously?  Well, ask any jaded literary critic or even Ponch and they'll tell you that there's been nothing completely new in literary circles since Herman Melville jumped the shark with Pierre, or, The Ambiguities .  I guess if it's unfinished, unpublished and suits the theme, I don't have a problem with it.

Maybe headmasters have more time than I do, but to be frank I didn't read all the way through.  Is there any way you can boil the most inspired bits down to one or two paragraphs?  I'd focus on the "have learning problems, understand how it feels, determined to help others" angle, myself.

  Entries already!  Aw yeah!  Keep 'em coming, folks!  Ra-Ra-Ra!  Start stacking words on that killer idea of yours and see what comes of it!

Wow, that's a tough story man.  I'm going to infer that your data was in the apartment and that you lost some stuff when you were evicted (in absentia).  But since you're looking, I'm assuming you had uploaded it somewhere?  Do you remember the name of the game you are looking for?  What sort of people/forums you might have shared it with?  Can you provide a more detailed description?  The author name you used? Any detail might help.

[TROPHIES! TROPHIES! TROPHIES! TROPHIES! TROPHIES! TROPHIES! TROPHIES! TROPHIES! TROPHIES! TROPHIES! TROPHIES! TROPHIES!]

Welcome to this fortnight's writing competition.  The theme this time around is...

Impossible Escape!

Your story must have a protagonist that is trying to escape from some sort of confinement, or maybe just a sticky situation.  It does not matter whether your protagonist succeeds or not.  Mr. Protagonist could be a person escaping a prison, or a chicken escaping an egg factory, or a kid escaping detention at school, or a sock escaping the odour of Ponch's left foot ( ) -as long as there's an escape attempt, it works for me.

This competition runs from now until midnight EDT on June 21.  I look forward to some thrilling entries!

TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!  TROPHIES!
Edit: Forgot to change topic title (I had something else in mind when I started out.....

I accept your concession speech, Ponch old fellow.  And let me assure you that after the rancour of the campaign I am willing to let bygones be bygones and by-heres be by-heres (etc.).  I am magnanimous in that way.   

At any event, I thought word for word you'd beaten me (I was just lucky in my prolificness  ).  Lost sock... brilliant!  Do you draw your inspiration from hallucinogenic drug trips, or do you get it from real life?  (or both?  ).  Anyhow, congratulations to all entrants, and standby for another topic shortly.

Apparently the first post has been updated with the mathematically dubious results.   

jwalt - 2/3 of a cup of vote
Baron - 1 Tablespoon of vote
Armageddon - 1 dash of vote

It's to be subverting the unclear voting process, is it?  Well then, sir, the gauntlet is tossed down! 

Ponch -2/7 kips of myrrh
jwalt - 1/2 peck of oakum
Armageddon - 4/13 eye of newt

Well, since this is the Rumpus Room, I guess we should speculate why it is that no one has built a floating hotspot module.  No, I'm not talking about some silly label that floats around with your cursor.  I'm talking about an ACTUAL floating hotspot module, where the hotspots float around randomly like some sort of invisible screensaver and you can't keep nothing straight in the game.  Think of all the messed up responses you'd get!  It'd be hilarious:

Click pickled-egg jar: Now hold on there, partner.  You just don't go stroking a fellah like that, unless you know him reeeeeeal good.

Click dancing girl: But how would I fit it in my pants?

Click angry barking dog on chain: You gently poke your finger into the mysterious recess, hoping for the best.

And so on and so forth....  It'd be AWESOME! 

Ho ho ho!  I smell a default victory coming up!  I knew I shouldn't have posted my intimidatingly smutty story first: it scared you all off.  Although you'd think it'd be right up WHAM and Ponch's alley....   Won't anyone give me a run for my... trophy?

A LENGTHY LONGING

Dearest Beloved,

   It is with heavy heart that I commit these words to paper rather than deliver them myself directly to your angelic ears, but our separation is now of such duration that I despair of ever again having the opportunity.  Since being marooned on this god-forsaken island these seven years, I have endured many hardships: the searing heat of the tropical sun, the depthless appetite of the biting insects, the fiendish lacerations of the sharp volcanic rock, and the gnawing hunger that coconut, raw shellfish and fermented bug juices cannot sate.  But of all the hardships I have borne, the most grievous and persistent has been that of a lonely heart.

   As you know, I am a man of passion.  I am a lover.  For me, a lonely heart is like an empty soul.    It gapes within me like a wound, a cavernous breach that rends me to the very core.  I am nothing without love, and love, for me, is nothing without you. 

   And so I have brought out the last of my precious paper, and tied a stranded squid to the end of this hollowed crab-leg in order to pour out my love upon the page.  My heart yearns for you to read the words that your ears will not hear: I love you.  I love you like the swallow loves the dawn; like the dolphin loves the surf.  I am a man of passion, and so the message of my lonely heart will not be stifled by the trivialities of distance and obstacles.  I must believe that nothing can stand between true love, between you and me, and so I am prepared to be persistent.  I will put this message in the ointment bottle that survived the crash -yes, the residue of the ointment will make the paper greasy and translucent, but that will only serve to remind you of me and how easily you can see through my motives: for me, there is only love.  The wafting fragrance of the ointment will draw you to my message, as will my lustful pheromones for I will be sure to rub the paper all over my body before committing it to the bottle.  You will find the bottle, and this message dripping with the fragrant optimism of my love.  You will find my love laid bare and naked before you, and then you will understand the depths of my passion.

   I am confident that my brutal honesty will clarify any misunderstandings between us.  Obviously you have misapprehended my intentions; why else would you have retreated up the sheer heights of the volcanic cone where my lubricated skin will not allow me to scale?  Since you were stranded here as well, I have tried my best to lay bare the facts of my character, but you must have misinterpreted my intentions.  I will grant you that over the years my appearance may have become a little wild and dishevelled, but I assure you that up close I am remarkably well groomed.  Obviously my garments have long been shredded away, but as you well know the sun has made my body hair grow at an astonishing rate, thus preserving me a modicum of modesty.  Far from the musky stench that you must expect of a castaway, you will find that I carry the aroma of a thousand blooms: I bathe daily in the oils of pulped flower petals that I have gathered from all over the island.  And fear not for my breath, for I floss three times a day with jellyfish tentacles and rinse with a sterilizing agent that I have distilled from my bughito drinks.

   So my body is ready and willing.  My character, I assure you, is unimpeachable.  My love for you is true, and I am a loyal and tender lover.  When you first arrived on the island, a flower petal floating gently on the wind, I knew that I must not be overly forward, lest I frighten you with my manly passions.  That is why I was sensitive, and concealed myself behind the tree when I accidentally stumbled upon you bathing naked under the waterfall.  You were so utterly certain of your solitariness: I know this because you scratched yourself indecently.  But to reveal myself would have frightened you, so what could I do?!?  When you removed yourself from the waterfall, the water droplets clinging desperately to the gentle curves of your nakedness, and walked straight for the tree I was hiding behind, I panicked!  Of course I was unaware that you had hung your clothes from the far branches of that very same tree, and that my clumsy attempt at escape would shake them loose into the current to be swept out to sea! 

   You were cautious then, and I knew I must be careful to introduce myself in a nonthreatening manner.  I am a sensitive lover, so I thought what could be less threatening than dropping you gently into a haystack of flower petals?  That is why I built the booby trap.  I concede that I did not account for your supple strength and fiery determination, nor for the vagaries of wind velocity and launch vectors: I am a better lover than an engineer, I can assure you!  You were so beautiful as you clung to the lever of my trebuchet, your eyes burning with courageous tenacity and your hair flaring madly at the force of motion.  Your lovely breasts dangled freely, weighed down only by the mass of your slightly oversized nipples as your smooth legs worked the post, grasping for dear life, then climbing purposefully to seize the vines above.  If only I had built myself into the design, I could have been on that post and you could have been scaling me....

   But a lover is persistent, and so I pursued you through the jungle.  You were so swift and flighty, like a naked fairy floating through the undergrowth while I barged on so clumsily.  I am not built for jumping logs and dodging branches, but for loving.  I am soft, although you will find that on the touch of a lover the softness in my body becomes firm.  I called out to you, but in these seven years of silence my voice has crumbled and I am uncertain that you understood what I was telling you: you are my love, and I would hold and comfort you.

   Since then, you have stayed away, and I have been a wretch.  I pine for your company, your curvaceous body, and above all for your love.  I am so lovesick that I have retreated to my hammock for days on end now, unable to muster the will to face my daily regimen of flower petal harvesting, bug brewing and wrestling flightless birds for their precious shellfish catches.  Instead I wallow despondently, thinking of nothing but the torment of love lost.

   How I have dreamed of you, my love, over the torturous duration of our separation.  Sometimes in my mind I imagine that I have escaped this endless purgatory to hold you passionately in my arms.  Sometimes if I have drank too many bughitos I have dreamt that you have come to me in the night, and the sensual caress of your lips on mine melts my hardships like so much glistening coconut grease on my tanned chest and shoulders.  Howsoever we are united, the heated passion of our embrace repletes the gaping vacuum of my empty heart and I am whole once more.  No, I am so much more than whole, for I now have love.  We may be two beings, but twined like so much jungle bind-weed we become of a oneness: we lose ourselves in each other.  Like a spider forged through the collision of two torrid monkeys, our eight limbs thrash and throe as one.  My yearnful grunts blend with the soft echo of your impassioned moans, and now the arachnid is no longer flailing about on the floor but scaling the wall, reaching, groping, lunging for the bracing heights beyond!  And now the limbs clench and we are floating gently through the ether, with only the silky discharge of our spinnerets as a tether....

   And then the glowing embers of our bliss are extinguished by the frigid waters of reality.  You are not in my arms, but a ghost in the darkness fled at my awakening.  I am empty, and my love squandered on a wraith of fancy.   I have made clear that I am a man of passion, but without love I am rudderless.  I am dizzy; I am lost.  Without your love I am no man at all, but an ungrasped fire-hose, thrashing aimlessly in the throes of my own self-loathing.  And then the hammock slows to rest, and I my passion is spent, and I shiver in cold, clammy loneliness.  I have nothing left to give, and even were you to come to me I would have nothing to offer.  I am an empty shell.  If only I could save up my love for you in jars, I could show you an ocean of affection!  But now there is nothing.  I am nothing.  Without you.  Until again you flit through my mind, and the wretched cycle repeats itself all over again, I am a broken and wilted man.  I do not know how long I can endure such hardship.  I beg of you to release me from my torments!

Yours in Everlasting Love,

Dicky

OK, so I read through this thread and I still have no clue what this game is about OR (more importantly) the quality of the nudity therein.  That guy in Arj0n's screenshot looked pretty clothed to me (although he might be exposing his crotch... it's hard to tell with his hands placed as they are).  And what's this Posse Pod's Prostitute thing that Ascovel keeps talking about?!?  Basically I demand screenshots if I'm to believe there is any gratuitous nudity out there for entertainment purposes.  Otherwise I'm going to have to assume that your debate is merely theoretical and you might as well be arguing how many angels can fit on the tip of a pin.

The table is set lets see what your cooking!

Hey, get out of the kitchen till I'm done!  This thing's still only half-baked....

You know I'll give ya the plausibility of all Indy movie main plots being equally low, BUT the main premise is nothing compared to individual events that pile up stupidity, like the monkeys scene and that whole "we need to cut our way through the jungle" and then 5 minutes later having a race between two trucks through that same jungle.
I even thought the fridge/bomb section was ok. And the most important bad thing - Shia Labeouf, annoying actor and annoying and badly written character. Instead of making him smart but rash or maybe more like Jones Sr. character, nope, they made him into a rash annoying emo brat (which is what Shia usually plays anyway). 

Oh, c'mon!  Like Crystal Skull was the only Indie movie to have silly implausible environments.  Roller coaster mine carts, anyone?  Who would ever build a mine like that?!?  Functional booby traps in a six hundred year old temple built by a civilization with little or no conception of metallurgy?  What exactly is springing those arrows out of the wall?!?  A decapitating machine down a narrow passageway -where's the puddle of blood that pretty much gives the warning "don't step here"?!?  I think you have to suspend your disbelief and just have fun to enjoy these movies.
    And as for annoying supporting characters, Shia Labeouf was no worse than Kate Capshaw's character in Temple of Doom -now there was an annoying character.  But it shows how great a guy Indy is to put up with these hangers-on, so I guess I'm ok with it.

Back off topic: DO IT PONCH!  DOOOOO IT!!!!1!!!!!

George has established a criterion for Indiana Jones adventures, and it's basically that he should only find things that actually existedâ€"or at least could have existed.

Isn't it amazingly ironic and funny with regard to the finale of Kingdom of the Crystal Skulls?

I find the conjecture that aliens meddled somehow with ancient civilizations at least as plausible as the Hebrew nation having a box of god dust that turns their enemies into melting play-dough. 

And I will add my voice to that of MiteWiseacreLives (Gasp!  A Canadian conspiracy!): I thought Kingdom of the Crystal Skull was a pretty typical Indy movie.  It had the same basic formula, cheesy (implausible) action sequences, and dialogue-style as the rest.     

In Canada we have the 'Foundation For The Tragically Hip'....
Baron should now what I'm talking about, eh? Brother?

I do now....eh? 

Before Ponch goes crazy in style, you should volunteer to have your brain sucked of Canadianisms that he could use in his upcoming Bake Sale game.  Wait, what Bake Sale?  Did someone announce another Bake Sale?  No?  Then why is Ponch working on this game?  What's going on??  And what was this thread about originally, anyway?

CANADA 4 EVAH!!!!!

Big Time?