• here is another funny

    From Gregory Deyss@1:267/150 to All on Mon Jun 2 03:46:11 2025
    The Tyrant' Cry
    An Echo Chronicle,
    by Gregory Deyss, Keeper of the Realm of POLITICS

    In a node long established, both bitter and bleak,
    Dwelt a murmuring soul with a venomous streak.
    He sat in his chair with a scowl and a scoff,
    Proclaiming, tyrant! This Mod must be off!

    But lo, I was chosen not seized, nor by scheme
    By Powell the elder, whose judgment holds steam.
    No votes did resound, no ballots were tossed,
    Just the calling of order where chaos had cost.

    The lad, known as Alex, then pounded his keys,
    Casting insults like ash on a midsummer breeze.
    He spake of my fury, accused me of spite,
    Whilst twisting the rules in the cover of night.

    He mocked the great law writ in June '89,
    As if it were dust on a shelf out of line.
    Yet each word he sends, each post he does make,
    Rides upon rails he claims are all fake.

    He drinks from the well, then curses its source,
    A fool on a cart screaming change this course!
    But he stands on the stones others labored to place,
    Then spits at the shrine with the boldest disgrace.

    I answered with temper, not thunder nor flame,
    For the Mod must be balanced while others play games.
    He slung little daggers, masked under a grin
    But a jest wrapped in poison is still counted as sin.

    So I drew the line bold, and I spoke with clear might:
    This echo is mine now. I govern its rite.
    Your questions may come if sincere they be said
    But cloak them in bile, and they ll echo back dead.

    Thus hear now this tale, this stanza of lore,
    A fable for sysops and netfolk and more:
    The one who roars loudest and mocks every rule,
    Shall find himself banished a self-righteous fool.

    The signal is strong, and the channel is clean,
    No longer polluted by tantrums obscene.
    So mark these last lines, and mark them with grace
    For the echo moves on without your disgrace.

    Gregory Deyss
    High Teer of POLITICS Echo
    1:267/150
    By backbone and bond, this realm is restored
    The chaos is banished. The signal is soared.

    ... I'm talking now. I'm talking, please. Does that sound familiar?

    --- Mystic BBS v1.12 A48 (Windows/64)
    * Origin: Capital Station BBS * Telnet://csbbs.dyndns.org * (1:267/150)