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Posts posted by Aran
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Reading it more closely, I'm somehow stumbling over "from across the distant plains / at the edges of the fields", since it's two headless lines in a row where it otherwise alternates (in fact, this tipped me off to there being an odd number of lines in the first half). Of course, the meter becomes less strict in the second half, so it doesn't stand out much.
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This is one of the earliest things I ever wrote, I think. I like the how rhythm in the first half makes me a little breathlessness, but it's certainly not my favourite.
In the purple hues of twilight
Just outside her window frame
Where she sat and saw the sun set
On the darkened evening grass,
[...]
❤
The imagery and meter are both great. I don't think of the trochaic tetrameter as particularly breathless; but it does have this rolling and somewhat implacable/inevitable/endless feeling (I also used it in Nightfall for that reason). I looked for examples on Wikipedia, which lists Hiawatha and the Kalevala, some pretty neat works.
Tempted to say the Raven (actually octametric) is another example but for line-breaks, since the rhymes divide each sixteen-syllable line in two.
Speaking of it, that's one of my favorite poems and hasn't been posted yet, so here goes:
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
`'Tis some visitor,' I muttered, `tapping at my chamber door -
Only this, and nothing more.'
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; - vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow - sorrow for the lost Lenore -
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me - filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating
`'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door -
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door; -
This it is, and nothing more,'
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
`Sir,' said I, `or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you' - here I opened wide the door; -
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the darkness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, `Lenore!'
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, `Lenore!'
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
`Surely,' said I, `surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore -
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore; -
'Tis the wind and nothing more!'
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door -
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door -
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
`Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,' I said, `art sure no craven.
Ghastly grim and ancient raven wandering from the nightly shore -
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning - little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door -
Bird or beast above the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as `Nevermore.'
But the raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only,
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered - not a feather then he fluttered -
Till I scarcely more than muttered `Other friends have flown before -
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.'
Then the bird said, `Nevermore.'
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
`Doubtless,' said I, `what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore -
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
Of "Never-nevermore."'
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore -
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt, and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking `Nevermore.'
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
`Wretch,' I cried, `thy God hath lent thee - by these angels he has sent thee
Respite - respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil! -
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted -
On this home by horror haunted - tell me truly, I implore -
Is there - is there balm in Gilead? - tell me - tell me, I implore!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Prophet!' said I, `thing of evil! - prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us - by that God we both adore -
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels named Lenore -
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels named Lenore?'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
`Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!' I shrieked upstarting -
`Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! - quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!'
Quoth the raven, `Nevermore.'
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted - nevermore!
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risk dying (or worse, being near those camel spiders)
Ditto on that one.
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Dammit Aran don't you have a thesis on parallelellellism to write or something
Yes I do!
*disappears*
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You are not among normal people ?
Sy's too awesome to be normal.
The internet service in our college (or more precisely, our CS department) is crappy as hell. I know exactly who we are supposed to complain to about this, and have, but it's not helping.
See, our department has its own little network center, and provides its own wifi. So the campus network doesn't cover our building. Except our department wifi went down a few weeks ago and apparently nobody has figured out how to fix it (mainly because everyone in charge has an office with landline, and therefore hasn't got it on a high priority). We're left with the shaky campus signal we can get from the next building over.
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At literally one game a week, we'll be done in 2015
(if everyone plays one game a week it's closer to six months)
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Since we're not on knockout rules; in theory the round should be just a guideline. Matches can happen in any order, and it'll probably take weeks to finish most of them.
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At the pace this one is going, it'll last a while yet. I think we're at three out of 132 games, if we're really going to follow a double round robin format.
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I'd like to point out a possible bug in the web-chess client:
1. d4 Nf6 2. e3 d5 3. c3 e6 4. Na3 c5 5. dxc5 Bxc5 6. Be2 O-O 7. Kf1 Nc6 8. Nb5e5 9. Nd6 Qxd6 10. h4 a5 11. f3 d4 12. f4 Ne4 13. Nf3 Ng3+ 14. Kf2 Nxh1+ 15. Kf1
Ng3+ 16. Ke1 Nxe2 17. Kxe2 e4 18. Kd2 exf3 19. exd4 fxg2 20. Kc2 Bf5+ 21. Kb3
Qd5+ 22. c4 a4+ 23. Kc3 Bb4# 1-0
1. h4 e5 2. d3 Nc6 3. Rh3 a5 4. c4 Bb4+ 5. Bd2 Nf6 6. a3 Bc5 7. b4 Bd4 8. Bc3Ng4 9. f4 Bf2+ 10. Kd2 exf4 11. Bxg7 Nd4 12. Ra2 f3 13. exf3 Ne3 14. Qc1 Nb3+
15. Ke2 Nxc1+ 16. Kxf2 Nd1+ 17. Ke1 Ne3 18. Ne2 Nxa2 19. Kd2 Nxf1+ 20. Kc2 Qe7
21. Rh1 Qxe2+ 22. Kb3 a4# 1-0
When Black wins, as in both these cases, the game closes with 0-1.
The notation was correct when Sylae posted her game against Mosquito Slayer, so it might not happen consistently. But it's more likely that she just put that in manually instead of pasting the PGN output.
(Speaking of bugs, the PGN export URLs still show only empty games, as far as I can tell.)
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Kublah Khan by Coleridge:
In Xanadu did Kubla Khan
A stately pleasure-dome decree:
Where Alph, the sacred river, ran
Through caverns measureless to man
Down to a sunless sea.
So twice five miles of fertile ground
With walls and towers were girdled round:
And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills,
Where blossomed many an incense-bearing tree;
And here were forests ancient as the hills,
Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.
But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted
Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!
A savage place! as holy and enchanted
As e'er beneath a waning moon was haunted
By woman wailing for her demon-lover!
And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,
As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,
A mighty fountain[1] momently[2] was forced:
Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst
Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,
Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher's flail:
And 'mid these dancing rocks at once and ever
It flung up momently the sacred river.
Five miles meandering with a mazy motion
Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,
Then reached the caverns measureless to man,
And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:
And 'mid this tumult Kubla heard from far
Ancestral voices prophesying war!
The shadow of the dome of pleasure
Floated midway on the waves;
Where was heard the mingled measure
From the fountain and the caves.
It was a miracle of rare device,
A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!
A damsel with a dulcimer
In a vision once I saw:
It was an Abyssinian maid,
And on her dulcimer she played,
Singing of Mount Abora.
Could I revive within me
Her symphony and song,
To such a deep delight 'twould win me,
That with music loud and long,
I would build that dome in air,
That sunny dome! those caves of ice!
And all who heard should see them there,
And all should cry, Beware! Beware!
His flashing eyes, his floating hair!
Weave a circle round him thrice,
And close your eyes with holy dread,
For he on honey-dew hath fed,
And drunk the milk of Paradise.
Ozymandias by Percy Shelly.
I met a traveller from an antique land
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desart. Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:
And on the pedestal these words appear:
"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.
Many soliloquys by Shakespeare and from Goethe's Faust (and Goethe's poems), but I can't currently point to any particular favorites by the former, and the latter doesn't usually translate into English well.
But anyway:
Über allen Gipfeln
Ist Ruh,
In allen Wipfeln
Spürest du
Kaum einen Hauch;
Die Vögelein schweigen im Walde.
Warte nur, balde
Ruhest du auch.
And a loose translation for style:
Up there all summits
are still.
In all the tree-tops
you will
feel but the dew.
The birds in the forest stopped talking.
Soon, done with walking,
you shall rest, too.
I've written some stuff myself, but it isn't really up for quoting here. Part of it is archived on Shadow Vale.
...
oh, I actually like this one. Forgot I'd written anything like it.
Nightfall
By the lake the sun forever
Sinking, and the sound of evening
In the endless song of crickets
Never rising, never falling
Still enduring now and ever:
Sun, though setting, never sets.
Sky so stained with clouds of crimson
Wild and wicked, seeming storm-tossed
Yet no breeze to break the boundless
Silence, while the sun - a lamp-post
From a scene of Revelation -
Through the trees like fire glows.
By the shore, a ruined tower
On the sands, by shadows fenced:
Blackened form against the sunset
Never sleeping, watchful 'gainst
The coming nightfall, dark and dour
Its portentous bulk is set.
Wrathful grumbling mid the painted
Clouds is sounding: Thunder calling
For the Stormwind's awful might
Lightning strikes with crackling power
Shattering the ruined tower
And the spell is ended, roaring
Rain to wash the tainted
Air like endless tears is falling
And the day goes down to night.
In other news, I still can't type Shadow Vale without typing Shadow Value^H^He. My fingers have a built-in autocomplete.
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Quite well-written, but since when was Hawthorne insane? I admit to having played only E:EFTP and A1, but I recall that he was brilliant and totally ruthless.
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Sort of both.
Well, I can see why; I see no way to avoid mate in 2-3 moves...
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Is there stuff missing or did MosquitoSlayer resign? (I'm not so familiar with PGN.)
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You lasted two moves longer than I did in my last match against Sylae.
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As not-a-lawyer, I get the impression that legal systems are very close to immeasurably vast, ancient and undocumented software projects. Written by committees over generations, full of convoluted code nobody understands, in outdated language, largely surpassed by and poorly applicable to modern situations, and full of complicated cross-references and contradictions.
(Okay, so kind of like religious texts.)
In a metaphor that is probably ludicrously divorced from reality: Letting corporations implement the Sueable interface from scratch might have been too difficult, so they extended the abstract LegalPerson class instead.
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As I said in the other thread, I'd love to participate but am working for the rest of the month. Have to hand in my bachelor thesis soon. (In fact, I'm about to go offline entirely).
I don't know the time schedule of this tournament, but if it goes on for a while, then it might be possible to match up some late entrants and have them make up the pace with more frequent games later.
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So you'd have to sue whoever was in charge? (Though I admit keeping track of individual responsibility inside a corporation would be difficult at best.)
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Next few weeks will be work-heavy, but I'd join after December 3rd.
so i finally got a wifi signal
in General
Posted
And I'm guessing your packets had to travel uphill both inbound and outbound...