Subject: Re: [SPOILERS]: "Fight Or Flight" As An Essay Question From: Joe Ellis Newsgroups: alt.tv.star-trek.voyager,alt.tv.star-trek.enterprise,rec.arts.startrek.current, alt.startrek.voyager,alt.fan.tom-servo,rec.music.filk Message-ID: <firstname.lastname@example.org> In article <email@example.com>, Infinity@world.std.com wrote: >Captain Infinity > ..."I'm sure that with a long 3/4" dowel, some music wire, > and some duct tape, that you could cobble something > together that would be "close enough" to hit the moon." > --Joe Ellis heh heh heh... and you thought I'd forgotten you... After reviewing a large number of posts by "Captain Infinity", I am without a doubt completely within the law in the analysis given in the song below. Brain Death of a Troll TTTO "Greensleeves", of course, as promised. I once proposed a simple rig To accurize a laser mount, But a twit too brainless to write his own sig Stole it for his own account. Brainless was the way he wrote, Brainless was his ability. Brainless was his reparteé And his name was Infinity. His reputation on usenet news seems to be that of a boorish troll And the tiny posts that spread his views Could be kept in a finger bowl. Brainless was the way he wrote, Brainless was his ability. Brainless was his reparteé And his name was Infinity. Though in his postings he claims the rank Of captain, it's not in his resumé His smarts don't strain his memory bank, and it doesn't show in his CV. (1) Brainless was the way he wrote, Brainless was his ability. Brainless was his reparteé And his name was Infinity. Warned he was not to steal a line That's copyright, and belonged to a bard, But he insisted 'twas just his right, Now he's found that the fates hold the cards. Brainless was the way he wrote, Brainless was his ability. Brainless was his reparteé And his name was Infinity. Yes, brainless was the way he wrote, Brainless was his ability. Warned was he not to press his luck... (pause) And his name it now scans to Greensleeves! (1) curriculum vitae. A term of which he professed ignorance: "I love silly flame mail, don't you? But, what's a "CV"?" -- Joe Ellis € The Synthetic Filker TesserAct Studios Please Note: ALL email from hotmail.com is deleted UNREAD | W W | W W W | W W | W W W | W W | W W W | W W | W W W | | W W | W W W | W W | W W W | W W | W W W | W W | W W W | |_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_| Filk € Fly Fishing € Model Railroading € Digital Photography
Then there was some discussion, and I wrote this:
From: Captain Infinity Newsgroups: rec.music.filk,alt.fan.tom-servo Message-ID: <firstname.lastname@example.org> Mortis wrote: >I used my telepathic powers to read ><email@example.com>, wherein >Joe Ellis wrote: >>In article <firstname.lastname@example.org>, >>Infinity@world.std.com wrote: >>>Captain Infinity >>> ..."I'm sure that with a long 3/4" dowel, some music wire, >>> and some duct tape, that you could cobble something >>> together that would be "close enough" to hit the moon." >>> --Joe Ellis >> >>heh heh heh... and you thought I'd forgotten you... >> >>After reviewing a large number of posts by "Captain Infinity", I am >>without a doubt completely within the law in the analysis given in the >>song below. > ><"revenge" snipped> > >Heh. You had all that time, revenge best served cold and all, and >that simmering piece of crap was the best you could come up with? You >could have saved yourself some trouble and just called him a >"doody-head". Aw, give him a break Mortis. He's got me dead to rights. I admit it, I am a boorish troll. <sniff> My father was a boorish troll, and his father before him. The women of my family all top post. My sisters and brothers refuse to use AOL because it's "too difficult" for them, so they use WebTV instead, and I probably would be too if I hadn't been brainwashed by Kibo into using world.std.com. <sniff> But in all seriousness, yes, I am a troll. I was born a troll and I'll probably die a troll. It's not an enviable fate, but it could be worse. Whenever I worry about being a troll I try to remember that at least I'm not a flamer. Or a meower. Or something worse. When I troll I try to troll for laughter, not for anger. I try to remember that each person who gets trolled is a live human being with feelings and sensitivities. And when I accidentally hurt someone or make someone angry, I apologize. When I troll I use unbarbed hooks; I catch and release. Anyway, Mortis, calm your anger. Joe tickled me greatly with his filk; it was well done and very entertaining. In response, as a thank you and/or an apology, I promise not to use Joe's quote again in my .sig. ** Captain Infinity ..."Do not bite at the bait of pleasure 'til you know there is no hook beneath it." --Thomas Jefferson.
Then Martin DeMello wrote this:
From: Martin Julian DeMello Newsgroups: rec.music.filk,alt.fan.tom-servo Message-ID: <email@example.com> In rec.music.filk Captain Infinity <Infinity@world.std.com> wrote: > <sniff> My father was a boorish troll, and his father before him. The Insta ttto "Horsetamer's Daughter" My father was a boorish troll, on the backways of the net His posts were crude, and his language rude, and his rants devoid of threat But few folk cared to peruse his tripe, the plonks came fast and thick And the pointless raving of a spineless craven was dismissed as a boring trick So plonked he was and ignored because they had better things to do But I was destined to have half a mind, and to raise the torch anew My grandpa gave me trolling tips, from a long forgotten day When the net was young, and the filksongs sung, and the master trolls held sway But September came around, he said, the newbies flooded in And the pointed posts of that early host were drowned in the general din And neither did the people rise to their finely crafted bait So the trolls withdrew and determined to let the next generation prate My father had no luck, it seemed, for no one gave a damn He tried his best, as a usenet pest, but was less annoying than spam He watched the flamers turn their wrath against "Make Money Fast" And his envy soared as he was ignored as a relic of the past So late he sat into the night, and insulted random men But nought could he gain after all his pain but a laugh every now and then As I prepared to take my place, and to learn the family trade So blithe and gay did I join the fray, so young and so unafraid And soon strode forth Infinity, for thus was I yclept And my father cried in a wave of pride, and I think even grandpa wept But young I was, and green I was, with my powers as yet untried And oft was I burnt before I learnt how to don an asbestos hide Then usenet lay beneath my hand, the groups were ripe to pluck And I ventured in with a thickened skin, and I though I'd try my luck I dropped in posts like loaded hooks, with several subtle jibes Then I smiled in glee at the summoned spree of insults and diatribes But my greatest coups were the crosspost trolls, the groups I drove to war For the sheep will bleat once their blood is heated, with no clue what they're fighting for And I'll ever be a boor, I'll ever be a net troll The cascades and the flames are music to my soul And when my son is grown, and should he be a jerk I'll get him on the net, to carry on my work -- Martin DeMello
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