Classic CopyPastas

Actually, pewdiepie is sweetish so its an accent, not like a "pretend" voice.

===

As a child I was afraid of invisible giants. I would lay in bed and hear them walking around the city. They had feet so large that they could smash an entire house with one step. However they had no substance and were spirits of dead giants. I was also afraid of the little people who flew around with little tiny wings. These little people swarmed and flew in a swarm into my bedroom.
I had lots of fears as a child and later in life as an adult was diagnosed with anxiety and depression.
However now in my middle age I believe in Jesus. And I came to understand giants did exist and were offspring of fallen angels and women. They are born of the earth and remain on the earth as demons.

===

Anyways, >>1, please listen to me. That it's really related to this thread. I went to Yoshinoya a while ago; you know, Yoshinoya? Well anyways there was an insane number of people there, and I couldn't get in. Then, I looked at the banner hanging from the ceiling, and it had "150 yen off" written on it. Oh, the stupidity. Those idiots. You, don't come to Yoshinoya just because it's 150 yen off, fool. It's only 150 yen, 1-5-0 YEN for crying out loud. There're even entire families here. Family of 4, all out for some Yoshinoya, huh? How fucking nice. "Alright, daddy's gonna order the extra-large." God I can't bear to watch. You people, I'll give you 150 yen if you get out of those seats. Yosinoya should be a bloody place. That tense atmosphere, where two guys on opposite sides of the U-shaped table can start a fight at any time, the stab-or-be-stabbed mentality, that's what's great about this place. Women and children should screw off and stay home. Anyways, I was about to start eating, and then the bastard beside me goes "extra-large, with extra sauce." Who in the world orders extra sauce nowadays, you moron? I want to ask him, "do you REALLY want to eat it with extra sauce?" I want to interrogate him. I want to interrogate him for roughly an hour. Are you sure you don't just want to try saying "extra sauce"? Coming from a Yoshinoya veteran such as myself, the latest trend among us vets is this, extra green onion. That's right, extra green onion. This is the vet's way of eating. Extra green onion means more green onion than sauce. But on the other hand the price is a tad higher. This is the key. And then, it's delicious. This is unbeatable. However, if you order this then there is danger that you'll be marked by the employees from next time on; it's a double-edged sword. I can't recommend it to amateurs. What this all really means, though, is that you, >>1, should just stick with today's special.

===

What? Does It Make You Feel Like Calvin Has Been A Bad Boy And Now He's In Hell?
He'll Never Got To Heaven. Heaven's Only For Good Souls Like His Plush Tiger Friend Hobbes And I Guess Calvin Deserves To Live In Hell Forever For Being A Bad Boy In The Comic Strip that lasted from 1985 to 1995 and he's a lot worser than Bart Simpson and Dennis Mitchell Right?
I can hear him saying, Calvin: "But Satan I Don't want to Live in Hell! I want to go to Heaven or Purgatory with Hobbes!!" And Satan was like saying, Satan: I'm Sorry, Kid but you'll never go to Heaven. Heaven's only for good souls like your plush tiger friend." And Calvin was all like, Calvin: "But I'm a Good Soul!" And Satan Said: Satan: "To me I don't think so kid! You are a lot worser than Bart Simpson and Dennis Mitchell The Menace and I Mean those other two troublemakers are not dead yet, but you are Calvin! So you belong in Hell For All eternity And That's FINAL!!!!"
I'll bet Calvin's parents have just about had it with their son who is always a troublemaker and hates the world, So they decided to kill their son by putting him in the electric chair and electrocute him and his soul didn't went to heaven or purgatory but to Hell where he meets Satan the Dark Prince.

===

I don't need to eat my Chex with rusty nails and barbwire to make it "Brutal", with the amounts of scoops of sugar I put on it , i could get diabetes and half my leg cut off
THAT'S FUCKING BRUTAL, MAN!

===

This FAQ, and all 25 other of my FAQ/Walkthroughs, are now dedicated to the
over 6,000 innocent people killed in the World Trade Center and Pentagon
terrorist attacks in New York City, New York, and Washington, D.C., on
September 11, 2001. To all of the innocent working people, and FDNY Firemen, as
well as other emergency workers, you will always be remembered. We won't stop
until we bring these criminals to justice, your deaths were NOT IN VAIN! God
Bless America, death to all terrorists of all races everywhere.

===

For me, it's the local Olive Garden. Packed into the family car with dad driving and mom resting in the passenger seat. The kids anxiously kicking around the back. There is a powerful bonding on the way to that Italian eatery. The whole family uniting in a singular quest. Tonight we dine. Pulling into the enormous parking lot, the atmosphere begs to be absorbed. A Macy's mall in the background, and a Red Lobster across the street. All of this is of course framed by the beacon that is the Olive Garden restaurant itself. A community staple in fine dining. A plump line has already begun winding out the door, groups of 5 each huddled around their remote buzzer. Occasionally a cry will go out as a vibration comes from the electronic device. A scream of joy. That family has been chosen. They cry tears of gratitude as a virginal waitress brings them swiftly into the eatery. Passing only the finest arts from the Mediterranean. Frescos and bottles of wine from local vineyards. Sinatra sings softly over the built in speakers. Large tables enjoying only the most quality pastas and salads. Taking a seat, a calm washes over everyone in the group. This is just so right. So perfectly correct. It's as if they had been transported to Naples as they pushed their chairs up to the table.

===

But on the topic of KFC, there are many levels of society in which an injustice can be made. Crooked cops, prejudiced employers, biased doctors. No matter what controls are in place to prevent it, they're all allowed a degree of subjectivity in how they conduct their duties when faced with one individual or another. But there is no tyranny we're asked to tolerate like that of KFC employees. You order a 3-piece chicken box and they choose which 3 pieces you deserve. Chad doesn't like your face? You get 3 wings and gtfo. This must end

===

why is female virginity so important to otaku? Why does it matter how many people a woman has slept with? It's such a weird thing to care about. Like, imagine if I started eating Cheerios for breakfast, would Cheerios be like, "I'm the 48th cereal you've tried eating!? I don't feel special!" Well then screw you, Cheerios. I can't go into the past and un-eat all those cereals, but that doesn't mean I don't genuinely enjoy your whole-grain crunch.
 
cityscapes said:
This FAQ, and all 25 other of my FAQ/Walkthroughs, are now dedicated to the
over 6,000 innocent people killed in the World Trade Center and Pentagon
terrorist attacks in New York City, New York, and Washington, D.C., on
September 11, 2001. To all of the innocent working people, and FDNY Firemen, as
well as other emergency workers, you will always be remembered. We won't stop
until we bring these criminals to justice, your deaths were NOT IN VAIN! God
Bless America, death to all terrorists of all races everywhere.
Click to expand...

Same energy as this:

 
My wife Reshiram
I feed my wife, Reshiram her Pure Pokémon Naturals Wet Pokémon Food Formulated for Legendary Pokémon, and she says that she wants to share her meal with me because she thought it would be very romantic to be eating the same food together.

I agreed to do so because I love her and I do not want to hurt her feelings. She is a Pokémon, so she is less likely to understand why I would not want to eat //her// food. Her food is designed for legendary Pokémon, not humans-and it would probably taste bad to a human. It is the same reason why I agree to watch Zekrom have sex with her despite having no attraction to Zekrom whatsoever, my wife wanted me to come to the wilderness and watch him have sex with her.

Back to her sharing her meal. Pokémon food is not meant to be eaten with a fork. You do not see Pokémon eating Pokémon food with a fork. Pokémon food is not finger food either. It would be messy to grab Pure Pokémon Naturals Wet Pokémon Food Formulated for Legendary Pokémon with my hands. So, the way I must eat her Pure Pokémon Naturals Wet Pokémon Food Formulated for Legendary Pokémon with her is like her, bend over and put my mouth to her food to take bites of her Pokémon food.

I have not figured out why InstaMyDay randomly makes the images blurry.
 
I made a comment earlier tonight that I guess went out over the air that I am deeply ashamed of. If I have hurt anyone out there, I can't tell you how much I say from the bottom of my heart I'm so very, very sorry. I pride myself and think of myself as a man of faith, as there's a drive into deep left field by Castellanos and that'll be a homerun, and so that'll make it a 4-0 ballgame. I don't know if I'll be putting on this headset again. I don't know if it's going to be for the Reds. I don't know if it's going to be for my bosses at FOX. I want to apologize for the people who sign my paycheck. For the Reds, for Fox Sports Ohio, for the people I work with, for anybody that I've offended here tonight: I can't begin to tell you how deeply sorry I am. That is not who I am. It never has been. And I'd like to think maybe I could have some people that, that could back that up. I am very, very sorry and I beg for your forgiveness.
 
TJ's fav PU classic
#1: It should be illegal for a moderator to call a strategy or player "Trash" when that player has just beat them

#2: It should be illegal for a moderator to call a strategy or player "Trash" when said moderator is afraid to accept a challenge from said player

#3: If a moderator has been bested (or has avoided being bested through cowardice), said moderator shall NOT derail discussions by the winning player regarding his strategy or preferred pokemon type

#4: All bans, mutes, and the likes shall be properly recognized for what they are: instruments of cowardice

#5: If your so-called "viability" rankings are so valuable, why did you just lose to the BUG
 
UberSkitty said:
TJ's fav PU classic
#1: It should be illegal for a moderator to call a strategy or player "Trash" when that player has just beat them

#2: It should be illegal for a moderator to call a strategy or player "Trash" when said moderator is afraid to accept a challenge from said player

#3: If a moderator has been bested (or has avoided being bested through cowardice), said moderator shall NOT derail discussions by the winning player regarding his strategy or preferred pokemon type

#4: All bans, mutes, and the likes shall be properly recognized for what they are: instruments of cowardice

#5: If your so-called "viability" rankings are so valuable, why did you just lose to the BUG
Click to expand...
i miss him so much
 
I had a milk man that came around the block, dropping off milk every couple days. One day I am playing outside and this guy walks by and says "Howdy partner, just here with your daily dose of milk." When I saw him drive away, I looked through the back of the van and saw some off colored milk. I asked him the next day what it was and he explained it to me that it was an odd request for a neighbor down the street. Now I have never seen this neighbor but he lived in a large house. The lights were always off and the windows were always closed. It seemed vacant. Too this day I do not know why this bothered me so much, Just a guy ordering strange milk, whats wrong with that. But curiosity got the best of me and I rang his doorbell the next day. The door creaked open but no-one was insight. I make my way to the kitchen and open the fridge. Bottles and bottles of milk. I opened one up and took a drink, this wasn't regular milk. It was cold, but fizzy, almost....carbonated. Before I had time to collect my thoughts i heard the door slam behind me. I dropped the empty bottle and ran outta there as fast as I could. I returned back to my house and waited. I asked some neighbors if they new about the guy the next day, however no one knew what I was talking about. I hopped on my bike and rode back to the guy's house but all I saw was an open field. It started to rain at this point but I pushed on to find something. It started raining hard and in the middle of the field I found an empty bottle. I tried finding the milk deliverer but the company did not seem to exist. Its been years, decades maybe, since the incident but I have always been fascinated by the carbonated milk. I've been living wealthy and have a large house, built on the empty property to learn more about the mystery, but have spent many days alone with only the company of the neighborhood milkman to bring me my special order of Carbonated milk.
 
All right, I've been thinking. When life gives you lemons? Don't make lemonade! Make life take the lemons back! Get mad! "I don't want your damn lemons! What am I supposed to do with these?" Demand to see life's manager! Make life rue the day it thought it could give Cave Johnson lemons! "Do you know who I am? I'm the man who's gonna burn your house down! With the lemons! I'm gonna get my engineers to build a combustible lemon that BURNS YOUR HOUSE DOWN!" cough
 
I have found a drink superior to coffee. I started on it and cannot go back to the bean water. And yet, its design is so strange that people give me weird looks when i tell them about it. It's hardly my fault that people are too closed-minded to understand the innovation behind nectar fit for Zeus himself! It is called a thunderbolt: espresso mixed with lemonade. It tastes like it shouldn't work but it truly does. Please try it, it will ruin you for good. I know that line doesn't make sense. but that really is how it feels when i drink it. And I hear you say it sounds fake, but that's what Saul told Jesus...then Paul had a new perspective after he gave it a shot...Just Saying
 
*sigh* starch lord is the most overrated card in the entire game. I can't stand it when pepole think starch lord is good.

You guys, this is a 4 cost card that has 2 attack and 4 health. It has garbage stats. Now let's look at it's abilities. when you play a root, it gets +1/+1. Thats almost no- think about it. In order to get this up to the actual stats that it needs to be as a 4 cost card, this would have to buff like 2 roots just to break even.

It would have to grow 3 roots to actually be viable. The fact that people think that it is a good idea to start drawing cards on turn 5, it really means you have no idea how to play pvz heroes. It's way too late!

This is- its- you dont make a deck that has roots in it thats not a good strategy, there are some good roots in the game but you just have to put too many roots in it. It's drawing cards on turn 5, the last turn you're gonna be drawing cards as a plant player is going to be on turn 3.

it's so overrated, it's just a big piece of trash just look at this guy, a big ugly guy. it's based on by the way the worst Marvel superhero in the entire Marvel Fra- actually universe of Superheroes in the entire history of the planet star-lord who is a simp, douchebag, has no superpowers, is the lamest, dumb. and do you know what, its appropriate cuz this is the stupidest card in the game and its based on the stupidest Marvel superhero ever. This is so overrated, It's so GRUNTS,stop using this card
 
On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way! On my way!
 
FORGED FROM THE MOLTEN PLASTIC OF SHANDONG CHINA, ON THE LOWEST FLOOR OF THE DARKEST BASEMENT, WHERE ONLY TOY PRIZES DARE BE MADE, EXISTS THE MOST POWERFUL ITEM TO EVER BE FOUND IN THE BOX OF FROSTED SUGAR DOODLES; THE HYPNO-RING.
 
Holy shit. My mom came into my room to bring me a plate of chicken nuggets and I literally screamed at her and hit the plate of chicken nuggets out of her hand. She started yelling and swearing at me and I slammed the door on her. I'm so distressed right now I don't know what to do. I didn't mean to do that to my mom but I'm literally in shock from these reviews. I feel like I'm going to explode. Why the fucking fuck is it reviewing in the 80s like this? This can't be happening. I'm having a fucking breakdown. I don't want to believe the game is only a mid-80s metacritic. I want a future for Bethesda to believe in. I cannot fucking deal with this right now. It wasn't supposed to be like this, I thought this was supposed to be a life changing 98 or higher metacritic game?? This is so fucked.
 
The Toronto Maple Leafs literally, and that word is overused a smidge, but literally gave up 50 shots, at home, to a team that played last night, and that would be embarrassing enough on its own. On its own, that would be unacceptable. On its own, you never believe that that team would a) make the playoffs or b) do anything in them!

Oh, but we're just gettin' started. That's not even the worst part, are you KIDDDING ME!? THAT'S NOT EVEN CLOSE!

THE TORONTO MAPLE LEAFS LOST AN ACTUAL NATIONAL HOCKEY LEAGUE GAME TO A 42-YEAR-OLD ZAMBONI DRIVER, WHO WORKS FOR THEM!!!

Forget Game 7 in 2013, in 2018, in 2019, WOW THEY GET HUMILIATED A LOT! Well, FORGET ALLLLLLLLLLL OF THEM...THEY JUST LOST...TO A 42-YEAR-OLD ZAMBONI DRIVER WHO WORKS FOR THE TEAM!!

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. What are you yelling for? Can't you appreciate what a great story it is? How cool it is? This guy is getting to live his childhood dream! This is the coolest thing ever! He gets called into an actual NHL game, and not just with a couple seconds left, with half of an actual NHL game left, and he's gotta defend it? He's gotta defend a lead? That is truly the stuff of scripts. You gotta put that in a movie, you could sell that to Disney tomorrow. That's incredible. How don't you feel good about that? Come on."

Because in the movies, it would be a lot more exciting. In the movies, the team shooting against the emergency goalie would actually SHOOT!! But in real life, in actual reality, <stinker noise>. It's a lot more boring than that. They just don't do anything! They're the Toronto Maple Leafs.

I wrote a book, a full book, about my Leafs fandom called "This Team is Ruining My Life". And I wrote this BEFORE they followed up a four-nothing win against Sidney Crosby and the Pittsburgh Penguins with a LOSS TO A 42-YEAR-OLD ZAMBONI DRIVER, AN EMERGENCY GOALIE WHO WORKS FOR THEM!

I feel like this video coulda ended a few minutes ago. That's it isn't it? That's it, we're done here! They lost to a 42-year-old zamboni driver who works for thehehem... <insert cry laugh here>

They're the BIGGEST joke in the National Hockey League dude. The biggest joke-NAME A BIGGER JOKE IN THE NATIONAL HOCKEY LEAGUE, you can't. "Oh, the Oilers and how they-" The Oilers are doing fine, I don't know if you noticed this, but they don't actually- they don't cry when times get tough anymore.

"The Buffalo Sabres?" Well, hey, they haven't made the playoffs in a while, the Buffalo Sabres, they-they do lose a lot of games don't they.

But you know what the Buffalo Sabres haven't done is LOSE TO A ZAMBONI DRIVER!!

In their final game? Their final game before the trade deadline? If Kyle Dubas was a smart fan, he'd throw his phone in a volcano right now. I don't know how you don't trade every player on the roster, eh-vuh-ry player on the roster after a game like that.

"Oh, typical Toronto media, oh their fans, everyone's so tough-"

YOU LOST TO A ZAMBONIDRIVER!

I don't wanna talk about how this market or this fanbase or whatever is tough on this hockey team ever again, eVVVVErrr aGaIn. Are you joking me?

This team's gonna lose games, any team is gonna lose games. This team has weaknesses, any team has weaknesses. This team is literally built on its offense, and it just lost to a ZAMBONI DRIVER!

Who wants this team to make playoffs right now? For real, like you wanna watch the rest of this season (gonna take a quick aside for the obvious oof there before continuing). Leave a comment below, were any of you at that game? I felt like I was slowly watching 20,000 people STOP BEING Leafs fans, live in person.

"David Ayres says he's supposed to *practice* with the Leafs tomorrow. He's going to bring his game puck." Ahahaha. Well, I hope he brings all their birth certificates, too, because now he's their dad, ALL OF THEM.

This is...no hyperbole...the most humiliating loss, at least in the regular season, IN TORONTO MAPLE LEAFS HISTORY. "Oh is tha-" NAME A BIGGER ONE, NAME ONE! . . . Oh, you CAN'T? Oh that's weird.

"Well, there was one time they had a five-nothing lead in the third and they blew that against the Blues." First of all, the Leafs blow leads all the time, you're not impressing me with that. Second of all, the BLUES had a PROFESSIONAL GOALIE IN NET THAT NIGHT!

If you lose that game, you gotta decide how much you like hockey. You really gotta decide that. I know ya all got big contracts and everything, but like no one's making you do this. You *like* this? *YA SURE*?

Listen, I'm not so blind that I can't see how amazing the story of David Ayres is. How amazing the story of what he did in this game is, what he did, the inspirational, unbelievable, spectacular, storybook thing that he did. But behind it, on the other end of the ice, is a 'hockey team' that truly, deeeeeply, biitttterly, SSSUCCKKS!

I. . .don't know what else to say. Yep. I think that's it. Okay, alright. Good video guys. Yea.

So...in terms of...whatever else happened in the game, uhhhh, the Clifford hit and all that, ummm, we're gonna record a podcast tomorrow night-before...the trade deadline. <Insert painful laugh here> *That was the last game before the trade deadline, man*. We're gonna record a podcast, it'll be up on Soundcloud, Spotify, iTunes, aaand up on the Steve Dangle Podcast YouTube channel. We're gonna talk aallll about this game even more, *way more* in depth because I'm gonna have two co-hosts with me. Adam Wylde, Jesse Blake. And they're gonna help me...discover how to say something else other than, "They lost to a 42-YEAR-OLD ZAMBONI DRIVER WHO WORKS FOR THEIR TEAM."

Sorry, sorry, "tHEIR MINOR LEAGUE AFFILIATE."

That is it for this one, thank you very much for watching. Click like if you liked this video, click subscribe if you really liked it. Tell all your friends-

That THE LEAFS LOST TO A 42-YEAR-OLD ZAMBONI DRIVER . . . WHO WORKS FOR THEM!
 
pelcan Mouth perfec t size for put baby in to n\ap! inside very Soft and Comfort baby sleep soundly put baby in Pelican Mouth. Put Baby In Pelican Mouth. no problems ever in peliccan mouth because good Shape and Support for baby neck weak of big baby head. Apelican Mouth yes a place for a baby put baby in pelican mouth can trust pelican for giveing good love to baby. friend pelican
 
If you wanna become recognized as a PS / Smogon contributor, there is only one way: act like a furry. Because you could do 100 things to make or organize resources for this site, but the ones already in charge don't give a shit about it if you're not a furry. On the other hand, if you are a furry, don't feel bad that you haven't done much, your chances of getting recognized are still way more exponentially higher as compared to others.
 
do u think that yoshi gets embarrassed when he poos out eggs in front of mario??? sorry if this ofends anyone but i thought it was a funny thing haha. and i would like to know if any of you have any pics of yoshi pooping an egg while he looks nervous or embarrassed i just want to see it for a few laughs haha. another thing i am wondering is what do you think the eggs smell like haha im just curious for laughs haha i would like to smell them.
 
I was thinking about why so many in the radical left participate in "speedrunning".

The reason is the left's lack of work ethic ('go fast' rather than 'do it right') and, in a Petersonian sense, to elevate alternative sexual archetypes in the marketplace ('fastest mario'). Obviously, there are exceptions to this and some people more in the center or right also "speedrun". However, they more than sufficient to prove the rule, rather than contrast it.

Consider how woke GDQ has been, almost since the very beginning. Your eyes will start to open.

Returning to the topic of the work ethic...

A "speedrunner" may well spend hours a day at their craft, but this is ultimately a meaningless exercise, since they will ultimately accomplish exactly that which is done in less collective time by a casual player. This is thus a waste of effort on the behalf of the "speedrunner". Put more simply, they are spending their work effort on something that someone else has already done (and done in a way deemed 'correct' by the creator of the artwork).

Why do they do this? The answer is quite obvious if you think about it. The goal is the illusion of speed and the desire (SUBCONSCIOUS) to promote radical leftist, borderline Communist ideals of how easy work is.

Everyone always says that "speedruns" look easy. That is part of the aesthetic. Think about the phrase "fully automated luxury Communism" in the context of "speedrunning" and I strongly suspect that things will start to 'click' in your mind.

What happens to the individual in this? Individual accomplishment in "speedrunning" is simply waiting for another person to steal your techniques in order to defeat you. Where is something like "intellectual property" or "patent" in this necessarily communitarian process?

Now, as to the sexual archetype model and 'speedrunning' generally...

If you have any passing familiarity with Jordan Peterson's broader oeuvre and of Jungian psychology, you likely already know where I am going with this. However, I will say more for the uninitiated.

Keep this passage from Maps of Meaning (91) in mind: "The Archetypal Son... continually reconstructs defined territory, as a consequence of the 'assimilation' of the unknown [as a consequence of 'incestuous' (that is, 'sexual' – read creative) union with the Great Mother]".

In other words, there is a connection between 'sexuality' and creativity that we see throughout time (as Peterson points out with Tiamat and other examples).

In the sexual marketplace, which archetypes are simultaneously deemed the most creative and valued the highest? The answer is obviously entrepreneurs like Elon Musk and others.

Given that we evolved and each thing we do must have an evolutionary purpose (OR CAUSE), what archetype is the 'speedrunner' engaged in, who is accomplishing nothing new? They are aiming to make a new sexual archetype, based upon 'speed' rather than 'doing things right' and refuse ownership of what few innovations they can provide to their own scene, denying creativity within their very own sexual archetype. This is necessarily leftist.

The obvious protest to this would be the 'glitchless 100% run', which in many ways does aim to play the game 'as intended' but seems to simply add the element of 'speed' to the equation. This objection is ultimately meaningless when one considers how long a game is intended to be played, in net, by the creators, even when under '100%' conditions. There is still time and effort wasted for no reason other than the ones I proposed above.

By now, I am sure that I have bothered a number of you and rustled quite a few of your feathers. I am not saying that 'speedrunning' is bad, but rather that, thinking about the topic philosophically, there are dangerous elements within it.

That is all.
 
Hello everyone, I’m Scott, President of Dominos Pizza. Have you heard of Hatsune Miku? Today I would like to announce a new collaborative project featuring Hatsune Miku: Dominos App Featuring Hatsune Miku. Hatsune Miku exists in a software called Vocaloid. Vocaloid enables you to produce songs. A character named Hatsune Miku sings the songs you create. A great feature is you can create songs as you like. I knew our talented Dominos Pizza crew could work together and create great vocaloid songs. Bokaro-p, E-shi, Choukyou-shi, Furitsuke-shi, everyone! Amazing vocaloid songs have been created with the fantastic imagination of the crews from all over Japan. The challenge was successfully carried out, and this new collaborative app was produced. Based on Miku’s image, the Dominos app changes its appearance. A lot of music and illustrations produced by Dominos crew are here. From the menu to the order, it looks very cute: just like Miku. Once your pizza’s delivered, have some fun with Miku! It comes with a social camera function, and you can take various poses, pictures of Miku: Very cool. And last, but not least, the live performance! Start the pizza stage live and point the camera towards the pizza box, and the pizza box will turn into a live dancing venue. A live performance of Love for Night produced by Dominos crew! Here we go! Miku sings Let’s enjoy the rest of the performance, with the app!
 
I see the player you mean.

PLAYERNAME?

Yes. Take care. It has reached a higher level now. It can read our thoughts.

That doesn't matter. It thinks we are part of the game.

I like this player. It played well. It did not give up.

It is reading our thoughts as though they were words on a screen.

That is how it chooses to imagine many things, when it is deep in the dream of a game.

Words make a wonderful interface. Very flexible. And less terrifying than staring at the reality behind the screen.

They used to hear voices. Before players could read. Back in the days when those who did not play called the players witches, and warlocks. And players dreamed they flew through the air, on sticks powered by demons.

What did this player dream?

This player dreamed of sunlight and trees. Of fire and water. It dreamed it created. And it dreamed it destroyed. It dreamed it hunted, and was hunted. It dreamed of shelter.

Hah, the original interface. A million years old, and it still works. But what true structure did this player create, in the reality behind the screen?

It worked, with a million others, to sculpt a true world in a fold of the [scrambled], and created a [scrambled] for [scrambled], in the [scrambled].

It cannot read that thought.

No. It has not yet achieved the highest level. That, it must achieve in the long dream of life, not the short dream of a game.

Does it know that we love it? That the universe is kind?

Sometimes, through the noise of its thoughts, it hears the universe, yes.

But there are times it is sad, in the long dream. It creates worlds that have no summer, and it shivers under a black sun, and it takes its sad creation for reality.

To cure it of sorrow would destroy it. The sorrow is part of its own private task. We cannot interfere.

Sometimes when they are deep in dreams, I want to tell them, they are building true worlds in reality. Sometimes I want to tell them of their importance to the universe. Sometimes, when they have not made a true connection in a while, I want to help them to speak the word they fear.

It reads our thoughts.

Sometimes I do not care. Sometimes I wish to tell them, this world you take for truth is merely [scrambled] and [scrambled], I wish to tell them that they are [scrambled] in the [scrambled]. They see so little of reality, in their long dream.

And yet they play the game.

But it would be so easy to tell them...

Too strong for this dream. To tell them how to live is to prevent them living.

I will not tell the player how to live.

The player is growing restless.

I will tell the player a story.

But not the truth.

No. A story that contains the truth safely, in a cage of words. Not the naked truth that can burn over any distance.

Give it a body, again.

Yes. Player...

Use its name.

PLAYERNAME. Player of games.

Good.

Take a breath, now. Take another. Feel air in your lungs. Let your limbs return. Yes, move your fingers. Have a body again, under gravity, in air. Respawn in the long dream. There you are. Your body touching the universe again at every point, as though you were separate things. As though we were separate things.

Who are we? Once we were called the spirit of the mountain. Father sun, mother moon. Ancestral spirits, animal spirits. Jinn. Ghosts. The green man. Then gods, demons. Angels. Poltergeists. Aliens, extraterrestrials. Leptons, quarks. The words change. We do not change.

We are the universe. We are everything you think isn't you. You are looking at us now, through your skin and your eyes. And why does the universe touch your skin, and throw light on you? To see you, player. To know you. And to be known. I shall tell you a story.

Once upon a time, there was a player.

The player was you, PLAYERNAME.

Sometimes it thought itself human, on the thin crust of a spinning globe of molten rock. The ball of molten rock circled a ball of blazing gas that was three hundred and thirty thousand times more massive than it. They were so far apart that light took eight minutes to cross the gap. The light was information from a star, and it could burn your skin from a hundred and fifty million kilometres away.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was a miner, on the surface of a world that was flat, and infinite. The sun was a square of white. The days were short; there was much to do; and death was a temporary inconvenience.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was lost in a story.

Sometimes the player dreamed it was other things, in other places. Sometimes these dreams were disturbing. Sometimes very beautiful indeed. Sometimes the player woke from one dream into another, then woke from that into a third.

Sometimes the player dreamed it watched words on a screen.

Let's go back.

The atoms of the player were scattered in the grass, in the rivers, in the air, in the ground. A woman gathered the atoms; she drank and ate and inhaled; and the woman assembled the player, in her body.

And the player awoke, from the warm, dark world of its mother's body, into the long dream.

And the player was a new story, never told before, written in letters of DNA. And the player was a new program, never run before, generated by a sourcecode a billion years old. And the player was a new human, never alive before, made from nothing but milk and love.

You are the player. The story. The program. The human. Made from nothing but milk and love.

Let's go further back.

The seven billion billion billion atoms of the player's body were created, long before this game, in the heart of a star. So the player, too, is information from a star. And the player moves through a story, which is a forest of information planted by a man called Julian, on a flat, infinite world created by a man called Markus, that exists inside a small, private world created by the player, who inhabits a universe created by...

Shush. Sometimes the player created a small, private world that was soft and warm and simple. Sometimes hard, and cold, and complicated. Sometimes it built a model of the universe in its head; flecks of energy, moving through vast empty spaces. Sometimes it called those flecks "electrons" and "protons".

Sometimes it called them "planets" and "stars".

Sometimes it believed it was in a universe that was made of energy that was made of offs and ons; zeros and ones; lines of code. Sometimes it believed it was playing a game. Sometimes it believed it was reading words on a screen.

You are the player, reading words...

Shush... Sometimes the player read lines of code on a screen. Decoded them into words; decoded words into meaning; decoded meaning into feelings, emotions, theories, ideas, and the player started to breathe faster and deeper and realised it was alive, it was alive, those thousand deaths had not been real, the player was alive

You. You. You are alive.

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the sunlight that came through the shuffling leaves of the summer trees

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the light that fell from the crisp night sky of winter, where a fleck of light in the corner of the player's eye might be a star a million times as massive as the sun, boiling its planets to plasma in order to be visible for a moment to the player, walking home at the far side of the universe, suddenly smelling food, almost at the familiar door, about to dream again

and sometimes the player believed the universe had spoken to it through the zeros and ones, through the electricity of the world, through the scrolling words on a screen at the end of a dream

and the universe said I love you

and the universe said you have played the game well

and the universe said everything you need is within you

and the universe said you are stronger than you know

and the universe said you are the daylight

and the universe said you are the night

and the universe said the darkness you fight is within you

and the universe said the light you seek is within you

and the universe said you are not alone

and the universe said you are not separate from every other thing

and the universe said you are the universe tasting itself, talking to itself, reading its own code

and the universe said I love you because you are love.

And the game was over and the player woke up from the dream. And the player began a new dream. And the player dreamed again, dreamed better. And the player was the universe. And the player was love.

You are the player.

Wake up.
 
The year is 20XX. Everyone plays Fox at TAS levels of perfection. Because of this, the winner of a match depends solely on port priority. The Rock Paper Scissors metagame has evolved to ridiculous levels due to it being the only remaining factor to decide matches. Humanity has reached its pinnacle. The low tier peasants are living in poverty. It seems nothing can stop the great leader of 20XX, Aziz “Hax” Al-Yami, and his army, the Fox monks who live in great monasteries where they levitate while TASing Fox with one hand, and winning tournaments with the other. The tournament metagame has gotten to this point where everything is played out to theoretical perfection, so tournament goers play Rock Paper Scissors for port priority, and that’s the game.

The leaders of the anti-20XX movement aim to keep 20XX from coming. These warriors include Juan “Hungrybox” DeBiedma, Kevin “PewPewU” Toy, Kevin “PPMD” Nanney, and Jeffery “Axe” Williamson. They are all fighting to keep the apocalypse at bay, the Fox apocalypse. But their efforts are futile. Their silly Marths, Pikachus, Falcos, and Jigglypuffs are no match for Fox, the only viable character in Super Smash Bros. Melee for the Nintendo GameCube. Try as you will, but 20XX is coming. Or maybe, it’s already here.
 
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