evilrooster: (Default)
In the spirit of one of the greatest xkcd cartoons of all, as given life by [personal profile] pnh:

Two threads diverged in a blog comment,
And sorry I could not argue both
And be one advocate, on I went
Researching one, and all that it meant
Unto the limits of its growth;

Then fought the other, just as keen
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it had less buzzword-sheen;
Though as for that, 'twas just as mean,
With obfuscation much the same.

And both held promise of delight
With comments not yet answered back.
Oh, I marked the first for another night!
Yet knowing how fight leads on to fight
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be blogging this with a sigh
Someday ages and ages hence:
Two threads diverged in a blog, and I,
I took the one less comment-shy
And that has made all the difference.
evilrooster: (Default)
In the spirit of one of the greatest xkcd cartoons of all, as given life by [personal profile] pnh:

Two threads diverged in a blog comment,
And sorry I could not argue both
And be one advocate, on I went
Researching one, and all that it meant
Unto the limits of its growth;

Then fought the other, just as keen
And having perhaps the better claim
Because it had less buzzword-sheen;
Though as for that, 'twas just as mean,
With obfuscation much the same.

And both held promise of delight
With comments not yet answered back.
Oh, I marked the first for another night!
Yet knowing how fight leads on to fight
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be blogging this with a sigh
Someday ages and ages hence:
Two threads diverged in a blog, and I,
I took the one less comment-shy
And that has made all the difference.
evilrooster: (Default)
The road beside the river tends to flood
When autumn storms bring rainfall to the hills.
Your wagons and your horses, mired in mud
Are trapped until the water rises, and it kills.
The mountain passes close with winter snows,
The desert's parched in summer's white-hot days.
The road that looks the safest often goes
To nothing but a hovel, thick with strays.
A canny guide is worth her weight in gold
When maps are not enough, and no one knows
When caution suits and when you must be bold,
And when to give up on the route you chose.
You wouldn't trust a guide who'd never been
Along the road, and learned from what she's seen.

Originally posted on Making Light.
evilrooster: (Default)
The road beside the river tends to flood
When autumn storms bring rainfall to the hills.
Your wagons and your horses, mired in mud
Are trapped until the water rises, and it kills.
The mountain passes close with winter snows,
The desert's parched in summer's white-hot days.
The road that looks the safest often goes
To nothing but a hovel, thick with strays.
A canny guide is worth her weight in gold
When maps are not enough, and no one knows
When caution suits and when you must be bold,
And when to give up on the route you chose.
You wouldn't trust a guide who'd never been
Along the road, and learned from what she's seen.

Originally posted on Making Light.
evilrooster: (Default)
The threads on Making Light are known to drift --
In that, it's just like any other place.
But they do more. They tangle, twist and lift,
Then knot and unknot, twine and interlace.
We spin threads out to unexpected length
And tug them sideways till they interact.
The intersections give the site its strength:
It stretches when it's stressed, but stays intact.
And if our needled comments don't create
Harmonious intarsial designs,
Our crotchets still keep threads from running straight,
Since we prefer to write with crooked lines.
When topics tangle, we rejoice. We'd whinge
If threads hung straight, since all we'd have is fringe.

Originally posted, astonishingly enough, on Making Light.
evilrooster: (Default)
The threads on Making Light are known to drift --
In that, it's just like any other place.
But they do more. They tangle, twist and lift,
Then knot and unknot, twine and interlace.
We spin threads out to unexpected length
And tug them sideways till they interact.
The intersections give the site its strength:
It stretches when it's stressed, but stays intact.
And if our needled comments don't create
Harmonious intarsial designs,
Our crotchets still keep threads from running straight,
Since we prefer to write with crooked lines.
When topics tangle, we rejoice. We'd whinge
If threads hung straight, since all we'd have is fringe.

Originally posted, astonishingly enough, on Making Light.
evilrooster: (Default)
Three trolls for the cooking threads, tasting of pie
Seven for the short threads, whose ends are unknown
Nine for the politics, which never die
One for the weblog, as it has grown
In the land of Yorkshire, where the posters lie.
One Troll to steer them all,
One Troll to mock them
One Troll to sneer at all
And in their puppets sock them.
In the land of Yorkshire, where the posters lie.

Originally posted on Making Light, at a time when the work York was closely associated with trollery.
evilrooster: (Default)
Three trolls for the cooking threads, tasting of pie
Seven for the short threads, whose ends are unknown
Nine for the politics, which never die
One for the weblog, as it has grown
In the land of Yorkshire, where the posters lie.
One Troll to steer them all,
One Troll to mock them
One Troll to sneer at all
And in their puppets sock them.
In the land of Yorkshire, where the posters lie.

Originally posted on Making Light, at a time when the work York was closely associated with trollery.

Discontent

Dec. 2nd, 2006 09:21 pm
evilrooster: (Default)
Oh, what a tangled Internet they weave
Who want to pay for shills to viral-post.
Thus do they practice, seeking to deceive,
Dilution of the thing they value most.
I mean our trust, because if this thing spreads
We'll read with extra care—and question more—
Their zombie-filled and advert-bloated threads
Until we learn which posters to ignore.
Whoever dreamt this folly clearly knows
The cost of every post, the worth of none.
They pay a listed price for posting prose,
But not for verse, and no one's paid to pun.
I challenge you: illumine what we see.
Be not content to simply content be.

Originally posted on Making Light.

Discontent

Dec. 2nd, 2006 09:21 pm
evilrooster: (Default)
Oh, what a tangled Internet they weave
Who want to pay for shills to viral-post.
Thus do they practice, seeking to deceive,
Dilution of the thing they value most.
I mean our trust, because if this thing spreads
We'll read with extra care—and question more—
Their zombie-filled and advert-bloated threads
Until we learn which posters to ignore.
Whoever dreamt this folly clearly knows
The cost of every post, the worth of none.
They pay a listed price for posting prose,
But not for verse, and no one's paid to pun.
I challenge you: illumine what we see.
Be not content to simply content be.

Originally posted on Making Light.
evilrooster: (Default)
A preaching fox, as Wymond lets us see,
Distracts us from our geese... Hieronimus
Says forced kindness must then thankless be...
When kindness is advice, and forced on us,
Distracting from the pleasure we find here,
I take their platitudinous links ill.
But blocking comments would, I greatly fear,
Be burning down the house, the mouse to kill....
(And thank you, Dorothy, I won't forget.)
The best fish swim, George tells us, bottomward...
But Laura warns us that the gifts we get
From enemies have dangers
... So I've heard.
I wrote this verse from Lawrence's kind thought :
That nothing is so bad it's good for naught...

Originally posted on Making Light, following a flood of spam disguised as platitude posts.
evilrooster: (Default)
A preaching fox, as Wymond lets us see,
Distracts us from our geese... Hieronimus
Says forced kindness must then thankless be...
When kindness is advice, and forced on us,
Distracting from the pleasure we find here,
I take their platitudinous links ill.
But blocking comments would, I greatly fear,
Be burning down the house, the mouse to kill....
(And thank you, Dorothy, I won't forget.)
The best fish swim, George tells us, bottomward...
But Laura warns us that the gifts we get
From enemies have dangers
... So I've heard.
I wrote this verse from Lawrence's kind thought :
That nothing is so bad it's good for naught...

Originally posted on Making Light, following a flood of spam disguised as platitude posts.
evilrooster: (Default)
Don't call this fledgling to a strict account.
He has not glided in the wider world,
Nor even left his nest, and no amount
Of flapping of his wings, so new-unfurled,
Can really substitute for honest flight.
He doesn't understand the atmosphere,
The updrafts and the currents, but he might
Become a thinker and a writer here.
He has a lot to learn of content, yes,  
But also that opponents may respect
Each other, disagreeing none the less,
(A thought on which some others could reflect.)
Let's tolerate his rudeness for the nonce:
Remember that we all were callow once.

Originally posted on Making Light, in reaction to an incipient dogpile.
evilrooster: (Default)
Don't call this fledgling to a strict account.
He has not glided in the wider world,
Nor even left his nest, and no amount
Of flapping of his wings, so new-unfurled,
Can really substitute for honest flight.
He doesn't understand the atmosphere,
The updrafts and the currents, but he might
Become a thinker and a writer here.
He has a lot to learn of content, yes,  
But also that opponents may respect
Each other, disagreeing none the less,
(A thought on which some others could reflect.)
Let's tolerate his rudeness for the nonce:
Remember that we all were callow once.

Originally posted on Making Light, in reaction to an incipient dogpile.

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