NotACrane @ Jorule

Wings spread in the night

Black feathers fall like rain

Who hears the crowing?

Heh. Wonder if that reminding me of the Oberon Shade Sage was intention.

Clouds cover the moon

Willows shade the still water

The world turns beneath.

if you were looking for a poety slam down, you probably wanted salme or seye tbh

To look, one must first search. To search, one must strive. To strive, one must act. This one does not act, so one cannot strive. One cannot strive, so one does not search. Not searching, one does not look.

One encounters, just as the hook in the water may be encountered by a fish. Or, one supposes, a bird. Which are you?

blink twice if the LLM has a weapon

We all have weapons, good Raven. It is a time of turmoil and we’re barbarians.

you know what, that’s fair, I’ll give it to you. You fancy your words are your weapons or you got like a sick ass chain ‘n scythe or something?

What is a weapon but a very particular type of tool? One has many tools, and one humbly submits that words may be among them. If one may ask–if you were a tool, what kind of tool would you be?

word on the street is that I am, in fact, already a tool.

One hopes a useful one. To be a useless tool–or worse, an abandoned one–would be a tragic fate indeed.

yeah, a useful one. and speaking of usefulness:

how come only three of us got blessed with your keen insights and not the entire group?

One does not preach, one speaks. One can only speak with so many, before one is preaching, not speaking. In any case, do all things interest you, or only some?

yes

Ahh, I see. A philosopher!

Hence the twin Truth and Darkness titles!

Please forgive this one’s impertinent question, but…is not Truth typically something one illuminates?

Just as many Truths are buried and hidden, as there are Truths brought into the light of the loving sun.

If buried and hidden, who can know them? Can you?

Those who obscure them, those who guard them, and those who uncover them, of course.

And which are you?

Largely the uncoverer, but occasionally the guardian

Fascinating. To uncover, yet endarken. A perilous metaphor.

Turns out some of the Deep Lore is buried deep away from knowing eyes for good reason.

But also Darkness is about intuition, vs Light’s instinct.

One would think intuition and instinct were the same thing–the knowledge or reaction that lives below thought.

Instinct is hard wired into you at the moment of creation,

Intuition is learned, recognizing the patterns in things you’ve experienced before, even if you can’t articulate how or why

Hm. And yet, when the blade draws from its sheath, and only in the moments after can you recall barest twitch that called it forth, we call this thing “instinct”. Some train their whole lives to possess such. Is that then, to you, “intuition”?

Instinct is drinking water when thirsty, is shoving food into your mouth when hungry, is seeking shelter from the rain, is punching and clawing and biting back at an attacker.

Spending decades training in the art of the blade, such that you can perform any number of techniques and maneuver without actively thinking about them, as best suits the heat of the moment, is not instinct. It is learned and trained response. Intuition!

Fascinating! A well-reasoned statement. Why then is one Dark, and the other Light?

If there’s one thing humans love doing, it’s putting labels on things.

Hah! The label is arbitrary, then? One is surprised, after the impassioned defense of instinct.

The Perils of embracing truth and darkness both is to know ultimately nothing really matters but to embrace it in full regardless.

One finds oneself in strange concurrence. Though one would say instead, perhaps, that “truly” mattering–insomuch as that statement has sense at all–is not based on perfection or longevity, but on the perception of the one experiencing the moment.

The sandcastle matters to the child that built it, whether or not it endures the tide. Would you not agree?

yeah, that seems like a fair assessment

Oh, please, good Raven. One attempts to be accurate, but never does one play fair.

Is fairness not in the eye of the beholder, if classification and rules are a matter of perspective?

anyway,

what’s so interesting about the three of us? Myself and the Prince I could see to a degree, but what adds Salme to the set over any of the other five? Or any of the other Travelers?

Why, one thinks you do her too little credit. Of all of you, is she not the beating heart? (And yes, one is aware that the Beating Heart, with Capitals of Respect, is of a different make.) Indeed, one might instead ask why one deigned to speak to the two of you alongside her.

One begs your forgiveness, however, for one’s glibness. Say, perhaps, that you three are the most enigmatic. The most intriguing, when this avenue for conversation fell into one’s hands. Though, pray, do not take this as insult to the others! One spoke truly when one said that one prefers to…shall we say, harbor one’s conversational energies. ‘Tis not that one intends to speak only to you three. One merely started there.

Is that so strange?

One could say that, if you hadn’t started with me, of course. :) Though yes she is yellow dotting fairly hard. I don’t know if a leader necessarily makes for the most interesting pick of a group - personally I’d have my eye on the Clockwork Knight in that regard - though of course there’s no accounting for taste. Not that I dislike her of course but she’s. Easily the most human of the group. Which, I suppose, could also make her the most interesting through a certain lense. But then you focus on the other two… and you can feel a certain amount of dissonance, can you not? Or perhaps that is simply my intuition at work.

Not wanting to over extend is a perfectly valid reason for starting small though, I can respect that. How you’d discover the signal and acquire a device capable of interacting with it though?

One was quite fortunate–one woke up and had it right to hand. Who am I to shun Heaven’s providence? A fascinating construction, this.

As for the choices of conversation: were we not just extolling the virtues of the arbitrary, and the utter futility of all systematizing ontologies? All are interesting in their own ways. The Herald of the End, who refused her duty out of stubborn and blasphemous hope. The Prince of…what, exactly? No man can currently say. A cypher self-built into an obstinate hero. And you, good Raven, who has walked more stories than any of us, and deigns to grace us with his wisdom.

Are not these things sufficient in and of themselves? Or must one needs have ulterior motives beyond these things? Tsk, such suspicion, one might say, says more of the one who suspects than the suspected.

Suspicious…? Heaven no, my good Jory! Curious. The things a person takes interest, and the reasons why, can say a great many things about that person themself!

Though if you’ll permit me a wild despite still on rails guess, one could reasonably guess “Prince of Valais”, or at least one of factions within.

Ah, well, if it’s curiosity…

…that’s even more dangerous. Curiosity may turn stones that the suspicious never think of. I would far rather face a suspicious man than a curious one. Suspicion can be allayed or misdirected. Curiosity does what it will. If you are a curious man, I must be careful indeed.

One should know, after all. One is quite curious oneself. One supposes that, in a way, might explain certain choices. After all, if the tiles are face up, there is nothing left to learn.

Boy, did you pick the wrong conversational partner. Which implies a lack of understanding of Shade and myself both, as well as a desire for obfuscation to a certain degree. A curious trait to pair with an equal desire to learn.

“Shade” is not a concept with which this one is familiar, one admits. Perhaps with interaction, one may gain understanding, which would be to the good–one who does not understand those around him shall always mistake their motives, and their capacities. Such a thing leads to error–and often fatal ones. I am not fond of error.

And come now–surely one dedicated to both Darkness and Truth might understand why one might seek knowledge of others, whilst obscuring one’s own? Knowledge is power, and truth even more so. To see clearly, whilst one’s self is obscured to others, is a powerful advantage. Does not the Golden Lion watch your host? To underestimate another is dangerous indeed.

A drive to learn, but reticence to cause errors, huh…? Failure is one of the easiest ways too learn, though. Do you fear we might have cause to view you as an enemy, and to a degree that lethal force might need be employed?

Mmm, yeah, so it goes. The Darkness of Shade is about hidden knowledge, the secret sciences, knowing the unknowable, and forming impossible connections.

And to be sure, there is some truth in what you say. But by the same token, by being open and free with yourself, you can be rendered immune to the violent power of truths. For if one has no secrets, one need not have cause to keep them safe or defend against aggression utilizing them. Aurelius may be watched by the Golden Lion, but I by the Key-and-Gate.

Others knowing what I am won’t prevent me from doing what I desire.

Oh, very good! A defiance such as that is fitting indeed, for one who bears the role of “angel.” We would be poor actors upon this stage, were we trammeled by such things.

Alas, perhaps one is too accustomed to a sharper kind of game, wherein such openness would require a mighty soul indeed. Do you go about unmasked then, with your whole face shown to the world entire? If so, one envies you your strength, to stand in the wind, unarmored.

Fear not, by the by–one could in no way become thy enemy. Heaven forbid that it should ever be so! But we are all players in this game, and the stakes are worlds. One cannot help but wish to peek at the tiles of all the others–if only so that one might plan a more effective strategy of play. Error is the great teacher, but one still consults the sage’s manuals before one plays a stone.

You know, it’s funny. “Angel” wasn’t even a term in use from my homeland, it’s one borrowed from… I suppose one might think of them as aggressors, but it’s funny how much easier that term is to use when you want to convey a specific kind of meaning without much explanation than the one I was born knowing. I wonder if that says something about the larger universe… or if that other group is far more prolific than we’d thought upon first making contact with them.

I honestly cannot imagine a world in which I’d need to play my cards that close to my chest. Though, I suppose, I do also speak from a position of power. Even a weak angel is still, in almost all worlds, head and shoulders above the average person. Perhaps not always in terms of strength, but in mind or skill, or some field. Easily mistaken as geniuses in their fields by those unaware of their true nature. But, also, I’m just really good at making peace with the fact that I’ve done some really dumb things growing up and know there’s no real shame in that.

But yeah, being able to learn from the mistakes of others is ideal and one of the great strengths of humans, when they can pull their heads out of their own asses. Hmm… are you from one of the five planes, then, or does the shape of this epic involve more than we’d considered?

Alas, one is a weary wanderer like yourself–and like so many others, it seems, that are gathering here. What a strange refuge to find against endings and dissolution! One begs your merciful forgiveness for saying no more–one seeks not so much to hide as to…shall we say, ‘retain an air of mystery.’ One has already placed a finger on the scale more than one intended; truly, one would have been content to watch enraptured from the stalls.

…And yet, comfortably retired as one might be, the clacking of the tiles has an allure to even the most reformed of gamblers. ‘Tis not this one’s tale, but…one never would say no to a bit part. A ‘cameo,’ perhaps, to amuse those with eyes to see it. You might see echoes of this one’s tale in your own, if one was to look closely–that such a thing exists has given no end of amusement.

If one may pay thee a compliment–one would have greatly enjoyed testing oneself against thee, in other places, in other days. You would have been a formidable opponent indeed, much more fitting than those set against me by fate and Heaven’s hand. Though, to tell the truth, one would have first tried making you an ally–‘tis so much more…productive…than conflict and clashing blades.

It’s good to have friends, and great to have allies that can do things you can’t.

Ah, so someone like Vlad who’s set off on their own. I’d been getting that impression, but it’s good to know. There’s just something about the allure of an open Forum that angels find enticing, you know…? Especially since the format does such a fantastic job of allowing for both that air of mystique and openness both at once.

And at this point there’s already so much, uh, chaff lets say, floating around that one more voice that cuts through the indistinct chatter of a midday market is hardly worth stressing about. (Salme in particular seems to enjoy picking them out and trying to identify them… I imagine she’ll be sad when several of the others that spoke up recently don’t continue to respond.) But of course, the choice to not engage is also the privilege of the pure heart.

One is reminded, in this place, of nothing so much as a contest of letters that one once indulged in, many moons ago. Such were the things that we amused ourselves with, as we hid daggers behind our backs and smiled at one another. One could not resist the…indulgence…once more, one supposes. Ah, nostalgia. It goes down smoother than the best sake…and leaves one with a worse headache in the morning.

What an interesting turn of phrase, “the pure heart.” One supposes one qualifies amongst that number, though one was never much accused of purity in one’s native land. Can a “pure heart” be found even amongst the failed and dissolute, then?

Ain’t that the truth. I raise my cup in your direction.

So, Pure Hearts. That’s what we called Angels back in my homeland, before the group I travel with made contact with the larger civilization that used the term “Angel”. And my favorite thing about the term is that it also came with some explicit clarification, when you gained awareness of what you are.

“Those with pure hearts can go to a whole new world - they are uniquely charged with sculpting the world in their image. Purity doesn’t necessarily mean benevolence, of course.”

The second line is deceptively important, of course. An angel need not be thought of as ‘good’ or ‘benevolent’ - only that their strength of will is clean and free of corruption, that they can be who they want to be, and exact the changes upon the world that they wish to see. Even if that isn’t necessarily for the world’s betterment. Even if it’s not for a noble cause. Even if it’s violent. … Of course most of us try and get along and make things better… but it’s still ‘better’ from our own perspectives. So long as you have the drive to enact your will, you still qualify.

Ahh, one sees. How apt a name–and how aptly it could have been applied to those I once called comrades or…well, at least, colleagues. Pure hearts, many of us, though the brains in many cases were of, shall we say…more variable quality. (Something for which one finds oneself quite thankful–were more of my compatriots of the quality of yours, one would have had a very much more difficult time. And it was difficult enough as it was.)

Such a thing is quite dangerous, is it not? Most are content with their lot, happy enough–or blind enough–to stay safely in their homes, changing nothing, with fate cursed as appropriate. Those who decide that the world is theirs to change are perilous indeed. Though…not always. One recalls a compatriot who confined their revolution to the world of street food criticism. …still quite the disruption, truth be told.

The humble food critic… they really do wield a baffling kind of power, don’t they?

I wonder what it must be like, to have an entire flock of angels at cross purposes. I know even my own groups of companions were never entirely unified, but we still tended to generally move in the same direction. I suppose I can understand your desire for anonymity a bit more if you’ve live through such an experience.

As for the other things, I suppose that must be why so many look on in awe upon those that can and do choose to shoulder the burden of Change.

To be quite blunt? I think they might have outstripped one’s own faction in power, given time. Only the ‘learned’ listen to pronouncements of conduct and law. Everyone eats takoyaki.

Oh yes. Cross purposes is…a mild description. It was a war, if a genteel one. A war with seven sides. Eight, if one counted the Emperor–and one should. There were alliances, of course–I forged one–but even still. This world? It is kind. Kinder than it could be.

Hm. “The burden of change.” So it is. ‘Tis not just awe, in this one’s experience, though. Fear, too. All structures have their defenders, and those who hold power rarely relinquish it with ease.

Eight factions at war, huh. That sounds real rough and exhausting. I think the worst we ever hard was like… three, maybe four tops. Though Vlad didn’t really piss the Emperor off until the end there I don’t think…

As for kindness. Hmm. I’ve thoughts on that myself, but I suspect we’re gearing up for a pretty big fail state on the horizon and it might be best not to count those chickens too early. Confident in weathering the storm though.

Also true, very true. Makes me wonder what Zosimos’ story is, to be able to have made the choice to give every thing up, multiple times. Stories of rising up against a great evil are a dime a dozen, but that doesn’t… particularly feel like what we’re doing here, does it?

As one said, it was a…genteel kind of war. Mostly sharp words, and the jockeying for status and prestige. Ephemeral tokens that one could spend to achieve one’s ends–for themselves, or for their masters. It only came to blows once, and for that one was thankful.

Hmm, true. That the world is currently kind is no guarantee that it will remain so. Yet one takes solace where one can; certainly that is ever a thing in short supply. As for great evils…one cannot say, one did not ever fight that kind of battle.

One tends to think that “great evils” are, more often than not, the result of a long train of unchecked smaller ones–little corruptions, one by one shoving a person or a nation or a world down an increasingly steep slope. By the time that one may fight a great evil, a great many things have already gone wrong. But no, this does not quite feel like that, one thinks. What it is, is yet to be revealed.

If you will permit one something of an impertinent question, Jorule…you clearly hold our fine group of companions in some esteem. As our own exchanges prove, you have no shortage of capacity for stimulating and graceful conversation.

One, of course, does not often pry into why others play their hand the way they do–not least because there is no guarantee of getting an honest answer. Yet I find myself compelled by curiosity. Why the great show of bluff disdain for the quirks of our companions and their worlds? One struggles to imagine a goal that approach advances well.

Part of it is because the especially alien details are, well, alien and bizarre and unusual, and I’ve never known stating the obvious to actively cause harm?

The more relevant bit about the bluntness of speech though… hm. Well, you’re not wrong about it being deliberately inflicted to a degree. Part of it’s to keep them at an appropriate distance - I shouldn’t really be a major focus in this story, and having the entire group ready to embrace me and bring me down to earth, so to speak, makes staying in a bit part harder. The other part is… man, I think I am just getting old from years on the road and have sort of stopped caring too much about how people might perceive me due to word choices.

Mm, one comprehends, one thinks. Certainly, one also wishes to not impinge on one’s companion’s will and choices. That said, if you will forgive the temerity, this one would share…not advice, but one’s perspective.

You are at the table, whether you wish to be or not. As am I. And when one is at the table, to pass one’s turn is not a virtue–it is a short road to losing the game. If you, like myself, wish to play your tiles in such a way as to help our companions to victory, then I fear I cannot see the benefit in your current approach.

Keep your distance, if that is what is most correct for you–though I suspect that you’re squeezing your buttocks after breaking wind. But as it stands, if I may be blunt, the distance you have achieved is not the respectful distance given to a wise elder. It is the chasm of hurt, and the walls of distrust.

If they do not feel that you care about their feelings, why should they listen to your words? I fear there may come a day when much-needed wisdom–for you do have wisdom that they do not, born of that long travel–will fall on deaf ears, closed by their contact with the stinging shroud of arrogance and disdain. Whether that is what you mean or not, I believe that is what they perceive. And they will act on what they perceive, whether it is true or not.

Care truly for their thoughts, or not. It does not matter, and one does not care. But you rob yourself of options, and that I find a waste. You are near to making an enemy of a well-respected priest–how does that serve you? Soften your words but a hair, and you may instead have an ally. If you care not for companionship, so what? Do not fail to think of use.

A man alone on an island has no power. And we shall need all the power we can gather, I think, if we are to survive what is to come. We shall need your power. For I think that you are right–the kindness of this world runs short. Will you forfeit the game to preserve your chosen role? Or will you play the tiles you’ve been dealt–roles be damned?

A funny thing to consider, coming from one who claims words as their preferred weapon.

Hmm, well, duly noted and considered none the less. “Annoying source of information we will begrudging use when necessary” was the vibe I was shooting for, rather than “respected elder whom we give space to”, for what it’s worth. Salme’s power of friendship won’t be denied to anyone, and the Prince has an understanding, even if the others don’t and for now that’s… enough, for now? You are of course correct in stating there’s always a chance my role might need to expand and better rapport with the rest of the group would absolutely help in that regard, however.

As for the Yeresh specifically… hm. Honestly, it feels like we’re just destined to grate upon one another, for all the same reasons that he had difficulties dealing with Aurelius when Aurelius was more myself than himself. We’re impulsive in different directions, we use words in opposite manners, and a lack of information tends to elicit markedly difference responses, to say knowing of vague known and confident hunches with no way of explaining the hows and whys. I hadn’t been intending to rile him up at all during that interaction it just sort of happened. Thinking back upon the logs though, I think I can better understand why. I imagine when he was called strange and weird in his youth it was with, if not malice and scorn, then confusion and a sense of otherness at best… rather than confusing, interest and excitement, as I am more prone to seeing them used. (also Salme and I bicker over stupid things constantly without any real ill intent, as well.)

And on the one hand I might reach out and explain this more in detail… but I also trust that his years of experience as a community mediator will lead him to these conclusion on his own after some time away with it knowing that an apology was offered at all. Mostly because he seems much better at getting a handle on people in person and, well, there’s not much person to me to be outside of text at the moment. Unless the situation really looks that dire from an outside perspective?

ergh really need to at least get a way for this program to let you delete messages if you were the last caster but w/e, I assume you can parse out the meaning from the fucked up sentences

Fear not, one comprehends. Your errors would be the envy of some of those I strove against, whose masterworks of thought were not fit to be judged alongside your idle musings.

My companion would hardly appreciate my saying this, but so it goes: one thinks you underestimate the complicated nature of my host. He is often wise and patient, yes; he values harmony over conflict, and reconciliation over grudges. But he is a man, not a saint, with his own flaws and sins. He is proud, for one, and loves his world and its people with a fervor that, betimes, clouds his eyes. He has great patience for mistake and failure, yes…but much less for what he sees as callousness, or cruelty.

I would say also that you mistake the source of his ire. He cares little about blows that land on him alone–but think, my friend. What sent him into a fear and rage so deep he called on my power without thinking? Harm to that which he loves. He loves his companions. He loves his world, and is coming to love its sisters. Even when they are strange, he sees them as things of beauty, sources of wonder. It is his gift–and his weakness. He cannot detach himself from them, as you could, as I can; no more than one could rip out one’s own heart. These worlds, by mine own standards, are exceedingly strange, yet…

I think you have, unwittingly, struck him in a way he will struggle to forgive: the seemingly-callous treatment of that which he loves. Were you cruel a-purpose? No. But can he see that? With all due respect, my friend, you do not carry yourself as one who is prone to accident in speech. Is he being a fool? Perhaps. But all men are fools at times. We do not play the tiles we wish, but the ones we have.

If you wish to soothe him, let him glimpse your hand. He is a man of forthrightness, charmingly free of any sense of deceit. You need not show him more than you wish him to see–some fraction of what you have told me will suffice, I think. Will you be bosom companions? Hardly. But it will suffice, for your purposes, to not be enemies. Let him have some scrap of insight and he will be content.

For he is a good man and true…and I am very glad he was born to this world, not mine. They would have eaten him alive, poor wolf.

My last comment is merely this: you do yourself a disservice, if you wish only to be begrudgingly used. It is less than your truth, I think, and this I struggle to abide. But perhaps that is my own weakness. I have little patience for constraining roles. If you choose such because it is your true wish, I shall hold my tongue, however. That it would be a fit too tight for my shoulders gives me no right to judge how the garment hangs on you.

Ha. Honestly, I’d probably be eaten alive in one of your old school imperial style courts, where facts are equal in power to tone, and where vagaries only make you look dull-witted. I can be very precise and deliberate with my words but it’s far, far and away from my natural, much rougher and fluctuating self. Suppose I’ll appreciate the compliment that that’s how you perceive me, though.

But also, there’s absolutely no real way for me to take up my normal role here, and if I tried to it’d only be awkward at best. So, instead, I’m making due with one further backstage, closer to where my expertise would normally have me be, were I not so inquisitive. It chaffs a lot less than you might expect; being able to just sit back and enjoy the ride for the most part almost feels like a vacation after how many group’s I’ve had to directly lead, honestly.

Fair enough–as I said, I have my own biases. And…perhaps. Perhaps in the world I was born into, you would have been.

In the world I sought to forge? Hardly. You would have made a fine Dragon. I could have used the aid of one like you.

In any case, do consider my suggestion, would you? He’s such a lovely wolf–he wants to like everyone, if only you’ll give him an excuse. If nothing else, it should decrease the growling, and the bite marks. But I’ve meddled enough; I’ll say no more about it. If you find it a useful play, feel free.

It’s appreciated, for sure. And nice to talk to someone other than Salme for a moment or three in any case

See, my friend? A tidbit of transparency, and the hackles lower and the growl subsides. My companion really is so charmingly direct. Unlike ourselves, of course–what is “natural” for us is somewhat different, is it not?

Though, if you will forgive me a bit of…what is the word? Ah, yes…”kibbitzing“…may one ask where you acquired such an excellent gift for deflection? The good kensei wields her words as expertly as her sword, but you parry so elegantly that one suspects she barely feels the touch of your blade.

Years and years of not having words to precisely explain what, exactly, I’m doing when Shade Shit / Deep Magic is going on eventually bleeds over to being able to do that in more mundane situations too, when you’ve gotten a good feel for when precisely the exasperated sighs and ‘sure, okay, if you say so’s start coming out, tbh.

Ah, one comprehends.

One supposes, then, that asking what unspeakable feeling one is deflecting the good kensei from is a foolish question. A pity. It is an artful technique, I must say.

Oh that? Honestly, nothing tbqh. She just thinks if she digs deep enough she’ll figure out what’s making me sad, even though nothing is and I already overcame and dealt with any issues I might’ve had in that regard when I was much younger. Whole lotta projection there, though I understand she means well and is why I continue to humor her.

Fascinating…did you know that, in my language, I believe there is a word that precisely defines your relationship with our good kensei? I believe that, in your lettering, it would be rendered as ‘tsundere‘. One is curious if the term translates.

If I were making this joke, I’d go with “Cynical Guardian Angel”, personally, though I suppose her innate cynicism shoots way past mine so it wouldn’t exactly work. Maybe “Lazy” or “Discount” instead, or perhaps “Off-brand”… not that brands are really a thing any of them would be familiar with but y’know.

wait, no, “Dead-beat Guardian Angel” yeah there we go

Also unrelated but it’s deeply funny to me that the world you’re from seems to have most of its core roots similar to a particular Large Dynasty Nation (esp wrt to the way the imperial courts and their games and machinations are set up), while at the same time having a large coat of paint over it giving it a lot of flavor (and language???) from a Smaller Island Nation from another world I’m familiar with.

Fascinating. There do seem to be strange echoes of other worlds and far distant places in that which I once resided, and the one in which we now do. Perhaps all the realms and worlds are just echoes of a greater one we shall never see. Mm. I never was much one for philosophy. The concrete is much more my speed. It is certainly far more immediately impactful.

One cannot help but say…if “deadbeat” has the connotations that one thinks it does, that seems an odd title to wear with some degree of pride.

A lot of things do start to feel that way after exploring enough, yeah.

I wouldn’t really say “with Pride”, just, that’s what would really sell the joke I believe.

Ah, indeed. Humor is–if you’ll pardon the abominable pun–a funny thing, is it not? That which tickles one lands like a stone on another; and what one finds humorous is often a strange lantern onto the deepest regions of the self. Humor can expose, illuminate, attack, and deflect. I’ve often found that the easiest way to take the sting out of jibe is to make the comment yourself, with an ironic twist. But it is a blade one must be very careful with, one thinks. It twists in the hand.

:)

Tell me, my friend. How do you feel about the idea of a friendly game?

Sure, we’ve both got ample time to kill.

Most excellent! Have you ever heard of a game called Go?

That’s uh… the one with the white and black stones that you flip over by making lines… I think?