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The "I Didn't Comment in Another Thread" Thread

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Gradine

The Elephant in the Room (she/her)
Look, we all know what kind of pizza I eat, I won't throw any stones in this exceptionally brittle glass house, but at some point you gotta draw the line
 

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Dannyalcatraz

Schmoderator
Staff member
Supporter
My apologies, then. It's a shame that your attempts to express this confusion are indistinguishable from attempts to provoke the anger of those who do become so invested, out of amusement at their frustration.
Mod Note:

If your concern is the provocation of others, perhaps you should have kept this post down to the first sentence. Keep that in mind going forward.

Everyone.
 

Levistus's_Leviathan

5e Freelancer
Things need not have happened to be true. Tales and dreams are the shadow-truths that will endure when mere facts are dust and ashes and forgot.

- Gaiman
Reminds me of this quote from Terry Pratchett's Small Gods:
“My lord?” said Brutha.

“Yes, Brutha?”

“I would like to ask you a question.”

“Do so.”

“What happened to Brother Murduck?”

There was the merest suggestion of hesitation in the rhythm of Vorbis’s stick on the cobbles. Then the exquisitor said, “Truth, good Brutha, is like the light. Do you know about light?”

“It…comes from the sun. And the moon and stars. And candles. And lamps.”

“And so on,” said Vorbis, nodding. “Of course. But there is another kind of light. A light that fills even the darkest of places. This has to be. For if this meta-light did not exist, how could darkness be seen?”

Brutha said nothing. This sounded too much like philosophy.

“And so it is with truth,” said Vorbis. “There are some things which appear to be the truth, which have all the hallmarks of truth, but which are not the real truth. The real truth must sometimes be protected by a labyrinth of lies.”

He turned to Brutha. “Do you understand me?”

“No, Lord Vorbis.”

“I mean, that which appears to our senses is not the fundamental truth. Things that are seen and heard and done by the flesh are mere shadows of a deeper reality. This is what you must understand as you progress in the Church.”

“But at the moment, lord, I know only the trivial truth, the truth available on the outside,” said Brutha. He felt as though he was at the edge of a pit.

“That is how we all begin,” said Vorbis kindly.

“So did the Ephebians kill Brother Murduck?” Brutha persisted. Now he was inching out over the darkness.

“I am telling you that in the deepest sense of the truth they did. By their failure to embrace his words, by their intransigence, they surely killed him.”

“But in the trivial sense of the truth,” said Brutha, picking every word with the care an inquisitor might give to his patient in the depths of the Citadel, “in the trivial sense, Brother Murduck died, did he not, in Omnia, because he had not died in Ephebe, had been merely mocked, but it was feared that others in the Church might not understand the, the deeper truth, and thus it was put about that the Ephebians had killed him in, in the trivial sense, thus giving you, and those who saw the truth of the evil of Ephebe, due cause to launch a—a just retaliation.”

They walked past a fountain. The deacon’s steel-shod staff clicked in the night.

“I see a great future for you in the Church,” said Vorbis, eventually. “The time of the eighth Prophet is coming. A time of expansion, and great opportunity for those true in the service of Om.”
 


Cadence

Legend
Supporter
Reminds me of this quote from Terry Pratchett's Small Gods:
“My lord?” said Brutha.

“Yes, Brutha?”

“I would like to ask you a question.”

“Do so.”

“What happened to Brother Murduck?”

There was the merest suggestion of hesitation in the rhythm of Vorbis’s stick on the cobbles. Then the exquisitor said, “Truth, good Brutha, is like the light. Do you know about light?”

“It…comes from the sun. And the moon and stars. And candles. And lamps.”

“And so on,” said Vorbis, nodding. “Of course. But there is another kind of light. A light that fills even the darkest of places. This has to be. For if this meta-light did not exist, how could darkness be seen?”

Brutha said nothing. This sounded too much like philosophy.

“And so it is with truth,” said Vorbis. “There are some things which appear to be the truth, which have all the hallmarks of truth, but which are not the real truth. The real truth must sometimes be protected by a labyrinth of lies.”

He turned to Brutha. “Do you understand me?”

“No, Lord Vorbis.”

“I mean, that which appears to our senses is not the fundamental truth. Things that are seen and heard and done by the flesh are mere shadows of a deeper reality. This is what you must understand as you progress in the Church.”

“But at the moment, lord, I know only the trivial truth, the truth available on the outside,” said Brutha. He felt as though he was at the edge of a pit.

“That is how we all begin,” said Vorbis kindly.

“So did the Ephebians kill Brother Murduck?” Brutha persisted. Now he was inching out over the darkness.

“I am telling you that in the deepest sense of the truth they did. By their failure to embrace his words, by their intransigence, they surely killed him.”

“But in the trivial sense of the truth,” said Brutha, picking every word with the care an inquisitor might give to his patient in the depths of the Citadel, “in the trivial sense, Brother Murduck died, did he not, in Omnia, because he had not died in Ephebe, had been merely mocked, but it was feared that others in the Church might not understand the, the deeper truth, and thus it was put about that the Ephebians had killed him in, in the trivial sense, thus giving you, and those who saw the truth of the evil of Ephebe, due cause to launch a—a just retaliation.”

They walked past a fountain. The deacon’s steel-shod staff clicked in the night.

“I see a great future for you in the Church,” said Vorbis, eventually. “The time of the eighth Prophet is coming. A time of expansion, and great opportunity for those true in the service of Om.”
Definitely reminiscent. Written round the same time too. (The Sandman Midsummer's Night Dream was 1990 and Small Gods was 1992).
 

payn

He'll flip ya...Flip ya for real...
I don't care for onions on pizza. Or onions on anything else.
Finally, something we can agree on.
futurama agree GIF
 



Mannahnin

Scion of Murgen (He/Him)
See, I feel exactly that way about people claiming to like gin. Gin is disgusting; the only reason people drink it is because whole cadres of "influencers" keep post-bombing about how great it is.

Well, and you put it in martinis and martinis actually aren't so bad.

It mixes well. Straight, sure, it tastes like car fuel.
Gin is just vodka with flavor. I wouldn't drink vodka straight either, but I don't generally bother making mixed drinks with vodka anymore.

There's definitely a good variety of gins, too. Some have a much less "punch of pine tar in my mouth" level of juniper.
 

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