And then Og did SMASH! with his Clue Club the ground of the Garden of Weokahatchee, and created he from the dust the first Administrators. And Og saw that they were good (enough for the purpose). And Og charged his Administrators to oversee the creation that Og would soon bring forth from the garden, and to ward the garden always against the 2, who was also the source of the Tree of Ignorance inconveniently growing in the center of the Garden…
And lo, there were Trolls in this garden, dwelling beneath the gilded bridges. The Trolls did love to argue and provoke, and the dwellers in this beautiful garden were oft warned not to feed them. The Smiters in the Garden were called upon betimes to smite the Trolls and Ban them from the Garden, but ofttimes did the Trolls return with Fuzzy Coverings upon them.
And Og said:
“Let us create this day Posters, that the garden and the world may be filled with those who can learn and grow from each other…”
<<aside: I’m going to hand it off here. I’m not NEARLY theologically advanced enough to handle the whole Creation of Man deal, even in farce>>
Then Og and the Administrators (a band name, perhaps?) did create the first Board. It was good.
It did not need tithing (known to the members as “subscription”) in which to participate. Cecil, the Great Prophet, was charged for gathering the flock for Og…
…and slowly upon that gathered flock of proverbial sheep, there crept **A Certain Co-Worker Who Thinks He’s Funny **. A proverbial wolf in proverbial sheep’s clothing (having slipped into the binary skin of one of Cecil’s own deciples, Hal Briston) after Hal had stepped away for but a moment, assuming that no harm could be done in his absence.
Thusly, the imposter boomed across the Board in Hal’s unmistakable voice:
The assembled flock blinked twice upon comprehending this statement, then slowly backed away from who they thought was Hal, so as not to rupture his eardrums with their laughter (as well as to be sure to secure all of their sheep from unwanted andvances).
And so it was decreed by all that was, is, and ever will be, that Hal’s eternal punishment for leaving his computer unlicked would be the perpetual telling and re-telling of (and references to) this story learned over, and over, and over, and over…
:smack: :smack: :smack:
I’d beg a mod to adjust for that typo, but something tells me my chances of redemption are slim.
…to each new generation of posters. And lo, on the grassy knoll, beside the gazebo out of which protuded an arrow, came the lurkers. And the lurkers did peer around and look over everyone else’s shoulders. And Og saw the lurkers and tried to convert them into posters. …
so that they too could ask and receive answers to the eternal questions, “Why do we park in a driveway and drive on a parkway?” and “What are the three words that end in -gry?” Og looked around and saw that it was good. Then created he pie for all the Posters and they much rejoiced in the goodness of Pie.
And lo, the posters continued to come in all manner – the wise and the boorish, the reasoned and the nutjob. And they all came in groups of two, except for Opal, who proclaimed that a group must have at least three.
And it came to pass that the posters let out with great wailing and lamentation
Why is this board so @#$%^& slow!!!*
Ere one of the Trolls who were Cast from the Garden did Wreak mighty Vengeance on the Boards, and so many of the Pearls of Wisdom were lost in The Winter of Our Missed Content. The Flock did migrate to other Lands, but found none were as Fertile as the Garden of their Birth, so they came back when the Garden was Re-built, but some strayed and were Never found again.
<tugs on featherlou’s robe>
Oh learned one, from whence had the Trolls come upon the Garden? I once heard that they were created by the Arch-Number. Is this true?
You must be joking. It’s perfect the way it is.
Post #3 and there is already mention of the subscription prophecy*? :eek:
*The fundamentalists believe the fulfillment of the subscription prophecy is the first sign of the end of days.
And then there came upon the teeming thousands a nameless sock called Lecic Smada and he whispered into their ears concerning wallpaper and the Titanic. And there was much murmuring.
Wait, will there be no books on how the various geographically-scattered Tribes of Cecil wandered out of darkness to congregate, thus birthing the sacrament of the DopeFest?
C’mon now! Think people! Bacchanal celebrations must be integral to the myth!
Tripler
And orgies! Don’t forget the orgies! [sub]even though I’ve never seen an orgy[/sub]
Honey, if an orgy is only seen, it ain’t being done right 
merely smiles
Yeah, but you oughtta hear about 'em later! 
Tripler
I still never seem to get invited, dammit.
And suffering in the background, toiling away on their little wheels the hampsters ran and ran and ran.
And lo, as the howls of outrage reached a climax, Og reached out and brought in the hamsters, and built them gigantic wheels for them to run in.