1. Tom Watson
Jun 4 2003, 4:55 pm show options

Newsgroups: rec.woodworking
From: Tom Watson - Find messages by this
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Date: Wed, 04 Jun 2003 18:01:08 -0400
Local: Wed, Jun 4 2003 5:01 pm
Subject: Abandon All Hope Ye Who Enter Here
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So many trolls were stalking the wreck. The place was hardly fit for
man or beast.


"The filters canna take much more of this, Cap'n - there's too many of
them"!


The tired old desktop had been turned into a weapons platform. New
ordinance was loaded in each day but they came in waves. The perimeter
wire was strung with enough guts to start a sausage factory.


Still the terrible tsunami of scum was upon us; relentless peristaltic
spasms, disgorging hideous gasses and inhuman beasties onto our
heretofore peaceful shores.


The ranks of the Wreckers were decimated. Man upon man driven into
the purgatorial realm of Lurkdom. Most of the others hidden behind
defensive measures so draconian as to deny both foe and friend.


An appeal went out to the Cabal but this was clearly beyond their ken.
A KlownHammer was intended to smite human foes - or, at least,
humanoid ones. We were bereft.


That is when I decided to Killfile myself.


Think not this a thought that came to me in madness. Nay, nor in
drunken state was I when I heard the beckoning call of duty. Are we
not Wreckers? (No, we are Devoaaaaarrrrrggggghhhhh! - strike that.)


Fear gripped my heart in an icy clench.


I am no lover of darkness. I live in the sunlit world of curly
shavings and sweet, woodscented air.


Yet, I swore to go into that Stygian night with purpose darker than
its blackest imaginings. I would be a shadow within a shadow. I
would killfile myself and enter into their darkling world and gain
that intelligence which must defeat them.


My finger paused unsteadily above the killfile button - I gulped what
I was feared would be my last breath of God's own air.


Eyes closed against my fear - I pressed...


It was painless.
And, it was very quiet.
At first.


Then came the moaning. Oh, the moaning and foul mouthings of those
nattering beasts! Those mindless, soulless, subsentient trolls raved
and expostulated one unto another in a cacophonous chorus of
coruscating cacodemonic confusion.


It was nasty.


And the light. Oh, Lord, let me disremember that lifeless light! All
about was lit with not but the vague phosphorescence and hellish
flickerings emitted from demonic greenscreen CRT's; ghoulish
apparitions hunched, chained to the keyboards, with the rictus smile
of idiocy painted on their not-quite-faces.


And they were really ugly, too.


I was in a world beyond that of even Dante's speculation. Beyond even
the beyond. A thirteenth circle. It was a circle so dank and foul as
to be beyond the imagining of sane men.


"It's full of Trolls."


Oh, they were all there! All those that we have consigned to the
Killfile are there. The Sick Puppy Lizard was seen committing
unspeakable acts with his minions from alt.coprophilia. Cass drank
goblets of giblets with The Man In The Doorway. All of them drunk with
mindless fury and babbling meaningless oaths into the sickly greenish
night.


"The Horror! The Horror!"


"I won't go on. I must go on."


But I will spare you further description and will only counsel you
from my position as having seen this torturous tapestry of
twits. I have seen the river Styx and saw it traversed by all those
we have shunned into its basin. I have seen the TurdBarge cross its
widest, darkest point, with gibbering trolls as its only passengers.
I have seen Hell itself.


We have no greater hell to give them.


Leave them alone there in their torment. We have no punishment beyond
their incarceration in that Hell Of Trolls. Let them feed on one
another until the end of time - or Usenet.


I made my way back to the light.


I smelled the shavings and saw the light play on my ScarySharpened
tools.


I never thought I'd make it back.


Regards, Tom.


Tom Watson - WoodDorker

tjwatson1ATcomcastDOTnet (real email)

http://home.comcast.net/~tjwatson1/