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# oh hai guys
i lost my laptop and changed my password but didn't remember it
(I helped save b3ta! Polly Carbonate, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:24, archived)
# It is...
(I helped save b3ta! Tahkcalb ω∞ for sigs, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:27, archived)
#
Computers should last forever, but they don't. By five years old, you need to have serious precautions in place for if the hard drive dies. Every fan in the PC can die, leading to sporadic if not frequent crashes. Components on the board can die: a server at work was experiencing frequent crashes from having numerous dead capacitors (the machine was starting to disintegrate). A failing hard drive reportedly makes the PC go slower and slower. I've also seen a PC where the IDE controller had partially failed, forcing the hard drive into PIO mode, and thus driving the CPU load to maximum to access it: that PC was extremely slow as a result, although otherwise fully functional. A friend was telling me last night of one her friend's PCs that has failing CPU cooling and would crash on longer compiles; she used cpuburn to drive the CPU load up and force a crash, demonstrating that the CPU was overheating. RAM can also start to become flaky, triggering random application or system crashes.
(I helped save b3ta! mofaha ┐( ˘_˘)┌ ʅ(́◡◝)ʃ, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:32, archived)
#
The thing is, people don't realize the work that goes into properly doing copypasta. They think copypasta is something that slackers can do, or faggots, or assholes. It's not true. Copypasta is a dying artform and if you don't see that, I don't know what's wrong with you.
(I helped save b3ta! Tahkcalb ω∞ for sigs, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:35, archived)
# SUCK IT ALL DOWN
IT WILL NOURISH YOU
(I helped save b3ta! mofaha ┐( ˘_˘)┌ ʅ(́◡◝)ʃ, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:37, archived)
# DID I SAY NOURISH?
I MEANT POISON
(I helped save b3ta! mofaha ┐( ˘_˘)┌ ʅ(́◡◝)ʃ, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:38, archived)
#
Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones
Got a Basketball Jones, oh baby, oo-oo-ooo
Yes, I am the victim of a Basketball Jones
Ever since I was a little baby, I always be dribblin'
In fac', I was de baddest dribbler in the whole neighborhood
Then one day, my mama bought me a basketball
And I loved that basketball
I took that basketball with me everywhere I went
That basketball was like a basketball to me
I even put that basketball underneath my pillow
Maybe that's why I can't sleep at night
I need help, ladies and gentlemens
I need someone to stand beside me
I need, I need someone to set a pick for me at the free-throw line of life
Someone I can pass to
Someone to hit the open man on the give-and-go
And not end up in the popcorn machine
So cheerleaders, help me out
{cheerleaders sing repeatedly...}
(Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones)
(I got a Basketball Jones, oh baby, oo-oo-ooo)
{while Tyrone Shoelaces sings/speaks...}
Oh, that sounds so sweet
Sing it out
C'mon Coach Booty, Red Blazer, sing along with me
That be bad, honky
Yeah I want everybody in the whole stadium to stand up and sing with us
Oh yeah, sing it out like you're proud
All right, everybody watchin' coast-to-coast, sing along with us
Bill Russell, sing along with us
Chick Hearn, sing along with us
Chris Schenkel, don't sing nothin'
Oh, it feels so good
Gimme the ball I'll go one-on-one against the world, left-handed
I could stuff it from center court with my toes
I could jump on top of the backboard, take off a quarter, leave fifteen cents change
I could, I could dribble behind my back
I got more moves than Ex-Lax I'm bad
I could dribble with my tongue
Here I go down court, try to stop me
You can't stop me 'cause I got a Basketball Jones
Here I come
That's my hook shot with my eyebrow
Yeah, I could dunk it with my nose
I'm, I'm bad as King Kong, gimme the ball
I'm hot, I'm hot as..., I'm hot as..., I'm hot as... uh
Uh, uh, uh, uh
(Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones, Basketball Jones)
(Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones, Basketball Jones)
(Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones, Basketball Jones)
(Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones, I got a Basketball Jones, Basketball Jones)
{fade}
(I helped save b3ta! Tahkcalb ω∞ for sigs, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:39, archived)
# Guitar by George Harrison, I believe.
(I helped save b3ta! mofaha ┐( ˘_˘)┌ ʅ(́◡◝)ʃ, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:40, archived)
# Indeed.
Its got everybody. Great tune.
(I helped save b3ta! Tahkcalb ω∞ for sigs, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:43, archived)
# Ah, those fabulous 70's
www.youtube.com/watch?v=JIbp5C-5WXM
(I helped save b3ta! tubaman, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 6:28, archived)
#
Original, hand-crafted copypasta; The perfect present for a wedding, christening, new baby, birthday, anniversary, retirement, mother’s day, thank you, school reunion - any occasion you can think of! Our copypastas are each individually handcrafted by a skilled and dedicated chef and guaranteed to be of the highest quality.

These beautiful and decorative copypastas are hand-crafted from crushed and powered words bound up with only the finest pasta. Every copypasta is completely hand made, from the basic raw materials through to the finished product every process is carried out by hand. The only exception is a cleaning and polishing process in which the copypasta is put through special machines. Even these machines have been developed for particular use in the preparation of the copypasta, for, although the copypasta is quite durable, fine details such as noses, horses ear's, swords, daggers and flag staffs could be snapped of if treated too roughly.

The National Association of Copypasta Chefs (NACC) is dedicated to protecting artists and crafters - their work, creativity and intellectual properties and marketing rights. I believe to keep the true work of the artist and copypasta chef alive we must act to promote and protect our art and craft.
(I helped save b3ta! Polly Carbonate, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:39, archived)
# YOU FUCKING SELL TWENTY AND I'LL GIVE YOU TWO GPS AND AIDS
(I helped save b3ta! Tahkcalb ω∞ for sigs, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:41, archived)
#
Don't say another Goddamn word. Up until now, I've been polite. If you say ANYTHING else - ONE word - I will kill myself. And when my tainted spirit finds its destination, I will topple the Master of that dark place. From my black throne, I will lash together a machine of bone and blood, and fueled by my hatred for you this Fear Engine will bore a hole between this world and that one. When it begins, you will hear the sound of children screaming -as though from a great distance. A smoking orb of NOTHING will grow above your bed, and from it will emerge a thousand starving crows. As I slip through the widening maw in my new form, you will catch only a glimpse of my radiance before you are incinerated. Then, as tears of bubbling pitch stream down my face, my dark world will begin. I will open one of my six mouths, and I will sing the song that ends the Earth.
(I helped save b3ta! Polly Carbonate, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:42, archived)
#
Over the next decades, a sentiment took root that contended that if only the growing threats that had begun to emerge in Europe and Asia could be accommodated, then the carnage and the destruction of then-recent memory of World War I could be avoided.

It was a time when a certain amount of cynicism and moral confusion set in among Western democracies. When those who warned about a coming crisis, the rise of fascism and nazism, they were ridiculed or ignored. Indeed, in the decades before World War II, a great many argued that the fascist threat was exaggerated or that it was someone else’s problem. Some nations tried to negotiate a separate peace, even as the enemy made its deadly ambitions crystal clear. It was, as Winston Churchill observed, a bit like feeding a crocodile, hoping it would eat you last.

There was a strange innocence about the world. Someone recently recalled one U.S. senator’s reaction in September of 1939 upon hearing that Hitler had invaded Poland to start World War II. He exclaimed:

“Lord, if only I had talked to Hitler, all of this might have been avoided!”

I recount that history because once again we face similar challenges in efforts to confront the rising threat of a new type of fascism. Today — another enemy, a different kind of enemy — has made clear its intentions with attacks in places like New York and Washington, D.C., Bali, London, Madrid, Moscow and so many other places. But some seem not to have learned history’s lessons.
(I helped save b3ta! Tahkcalb ω∞ for sigs, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:44, archived)
#
Anyone else here not a racist, but wishes the Nazis had won?

Theirs was a truly effective fascist government that took a nation on its knees from a depression and turned it into a military, technological and economic powerhouse within the space of thirty years.

It was a social experiment in the way that many reformed or new nations are. America was an experiment in democracy and (eventually) egalitarianism. The Soviet Union was an experiment in Communism. Nazi Germany was the grandest experiment of them all: a rejection of the gentle side of man and a wholehearted pursuit of our more teutonic side: The glorification of the strong, the self-sufficient, and the dominant. It was to be the beginning of a bolder and more uncompromising global civilization that would bring discipline where before there was only coddling; that would harden the soft, and that would not be afraid to say that equality means equal opportunities, not that all men regardless of education or skill are inherently equal to one another. It was a call out to all men to transcend their passive, mediocre existances and aspire to become the heroic and unstoppable species that mankind always had the potential to become.

Nazi Germany was the combined hopes, dreams and ambitions of all who dared to dominate; but in the end, these dreams were quashed by weak, subversive men who would rather hold their superiors back rather than attempt to catch up.
(I helped save b3ta! Polly Carbonate, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:47, archived)
#
As for George's mother, she was hardly to be persuaded from staying in the country with the child. She went twice a week, to make sure that all went well. Henriette and she lived with the child's picture before them; they spent their time sewing on caps and underwear--all covered with laces and frills and pink and blue ribbons. Every day, when George came home from his work, he found some new article completed, and was ravished by the scent of some new kind of sachet powder. What a lucky man he was!

You would think he must have been the happiest man in the whole city of Paris. But George, alas, had to pay the penalty for his early sins. There was, for instance, the deception he had practiced upon his friend, away back in the early days. Now he had friends of his own, and he could not keep these friends from visiting him; and so he was unquiet with the fear that some one of them might play upon him the same vile trick. Even in the midst of his radiant happiness, when he knew that Henriette was hanging upon his every word, trembling with delight when she heard his latchkey in the door--still he could not drive away the horrible thought that perhaps all this might be deception.
(I helped save b3ta! Tahkcalb ω∞ for sigs, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:50, archived)
#
Yes. I'm a C programmer. So? I don't see a problem. I embraced my UNIX soul long ago and I am happy together with my compiler (who is a cute layered front/backend design!). We have a fucking lot of functions in and outside of the kernel and I am pretty compact and resource conserving.

But thanks anyway asshole. Go and beat off to your stupid garbage collection shit while I #INCLUDE with my preprocessor.
(I helped save b3ta! Polly Carbonate, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:43, archived)
#
Now let's pursue a serious note

The German seaman sagt, 'Ze Kraaken ist not eine gut idea to waak-on'.
Achtung, the water's fine to waak-on,
The water's fine...
Providing you're bearded and divine
And full of the faith and very brave...
Good God, there goes another wave.
(I helped save b3ta! Tahkcalb ω∞ for sigs, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 5:47, archived)
# NO
 

 
(I helped save b3ta! Rapitinui get in the cage and I'll give you a treat, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 6:01, archived)
# Couple minutes early, but why wait.
The fight had now lasted an hour, and the line had reached a more open country, with a slight incline upward toward a wood, on the edge of which was a ruined house. This house was a former distillery for aguardiente, and was now occupied in force by the enemy. Lieutenant- Colonel Roosevelt on the far left was moving up his men with the intention of taking this house on the flank; Wood, who was all over the line, had the same objective point in his mind. The troop commanders had a general idea that the distillery was the key to the enemy's position, and were all working in that direction. It was extremely difficult for Wood and Roosevelt to communicate with the captains, and after the first general orders had been given them they relied upon the latter's intelligence to pull them through. I do not suppose Wood, out of the five hundred engaged, saw more than thirty of his men at any one time. When he had passed one troop, except for the noise of its volley firing, it was immediately lost to him in the brush, and it was so with the next. Still, so excellent was the intelligence of the officers, and so ready the spirit of the men, that they kept an almost perfect alignment, as was shown when the final order came to charge in the open fields. The advance upon the ruined building was made in stubborn, short rushes, sometimes in silence, and sometimes firing as we ran. The order to fire at will was seldom given, the men waiting patiently for the officers' signal, and then answering in volleys. Some of the men who were twice Day's age begged him to let them take the enemy's impromptu fort on the run, but he answered them tolerantly like spoiled children, and held them down until there was a lull in the enemy's fire, when he would lead them forward, always taking the advance himself. By the way they made these rushes, it was easy to tell which men were used to hunting big game in the West and which were not. The Eastern men broke at the word, and ran for the cover they were directed to take like men trying to get out of the rain, and fell panting on their faces, while the Western trappers and hunters slipped and wriggled through the grass like Indians; dodging from tree trunk to tree trunk, and from one bush to another. They fell into line at the same time with the others, but while doing so they had not once exposed themselves. Some of the escapes were little short of miraculous. The man on my right, Champneys Marshall, of Washington, had one bullet pass through his sleeve, and another pass through his shirt, where it was pulled close to his spine. The holes where the ball entered and went out again were clearly cut. Another man's skin was slightly burned by three bullets in three distinct lines, as though it had been touched for an instant by the lighted end of a cigar. Greenway was shot through this shirt across the breast, and Roosevelt was so close to one bullet, when it struck a tree, that it filled his eyes and ears with tiny splinters. Major Brodie and Lieutenant Thomas were both wounded within a few feet of Colonel Wood, and his color-sergeant, Wright, who followed close at his heels, was clipped three times in the head and neck, and four bullets passed through the folds of the flag he carried. One trooper, Rowland, of Deming, was shot through the lower ribs; he was ordered by Roosevelt to fall back to the dressing station, but there Church told him there was nothing he could do for him then, and directed him to sit down until he could be taken to the hospital at Siboney. Rowland sat still for a short time, and then remarked restlessly, "I don't seem to be doing much good here," and picking up his carbine, returned to the firing-line. There Roosevelt found him.

"I thought I ordered you to the rear," he demanded.

"Yes, sir, you did," Rowland said, "but there didn't seem to be much doing back there."
(I helped save b3ta! Tahkcalb ω∞ for sigs, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 6:05, archived)
#
 

 
(I helped save b3ta! Rapitinui get in the cage and I'll give you a treat, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 6:16, archived)
# FURRY!
(I helped save b3ta! monstrinho do biscoito teeeshurts = www.nogunarmy.com, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 8:59, archived)
# interesting
(I helped save b3ta! The BrownHaze, Wed 5 Sep 2007, 9:43, archived)