Cecil in the Chat.
[sup]A satirical poem.[/sup]
The outlook wasn’t brilliant, for the Dopeville crowd that day;
The board stood still for hours, with no posters there to play.
And when the traffic died on line, and everyone did mope,
A sickly silence fell upon, the users of Straight Dope.
A lurking few had left the board, to go in deep despair.
The rest of us clung to hope, which still lingered in the air.
They thought if only Cecil would, post here more and that–
We’d even pay you money now with Cecil in the chat.
But trolls preceded Cecil, and did their trouble make,
And they posted ignorance, and the board did not partake;
So upon that stricken multitude, a grim melancholy sky,
For there seemed but little chance, that Cecil would reply.
Then Lynn broadcast a warning, to the wonderment of all,
But the trolls, and much despised, just responded to the call;
And when the dust had lifted, and the board saw what had occurred,
There posted Cecil Adams, we were a-hugging every word.
From ten thousand throats and more, there rose a lusty snit;
It echoed through the forums, it rattled in the Pit;
It sounded through the Reader, and recoiled in our head,
For Cecil, mighty Cecil, was advancing to the thread.
There was ease in Cecil’s manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in Cecil’s bearing and a smile on Cecil’s face.
And when responding to the cheers, he lightly posted sass,
No doper in the crowd would doubt, Cecil would kick his ass.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he rubbed his screen with dirt;
Five thousand tongues applauded when he wiped it on his shirt.
Then while the trolling poster, was told to get a grip,
Defiance gleamed in Cecil’s eye, a sneer curled Cecil’s lip.
And now the profane covered flames, came hurtling through the air,
And Cecil stood a-watching it, in haughty grandeur there.
Close by some trusty allies and as the moderators tried–
“That ain’t my style,” said Cecil. “Ban him,” the masses cried.
From the chat room stuffed with dopers, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm waves upon a cruel and distant shore.
“Ban him! Ban the troll!” they shouted, “He doesn’t understand;”
And it’s likely they’d have killed him had not Cecil raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity, great Cecil’s visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the thread go on;
He signaled to the mods, and once more the insults flew;
But Cecil still ignored the troll, the troll replied, “F*** You.”
“MOD!” cried the maddened thousands, and echo answered MOD!;
But one scornful post from Cecil and the message board was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they saw his muscles strain,
And they knew that Cecil wouldn’t let this asshole go again.
The sneer is gone from Cecil’s lip, his teeth now clenched in hate;
He pounds his keys with sheer contempt, we hold our breath and wait.
And now as Cecil holds the flame, and now he lets it go,
And now the board is shattered by the force of Cecil’s blow.
Oh, somewhere on my favorite site, the sun is shining bright;
A band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light,
On some boards folks are laughing, On some boards posters shout;
But there is no joy at Straight Dope-- mighty Cecil has flamed out.
[sub]With apologies where needed.[/sub]
[sub]Original poem and more info here.[/sub]
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