I will set a precedent here by assuring that the primary section of the
node is concerned with
The Never-Ending Write-Up story wheras the second half of it will be occupied by witty commentary or idle
banter or
babble or
whatnot. Unless this takes on a life of its own and spawns... a Second Never-Ending Write-Up with a significantly more mundane and
prosaic style to it...
Example: should the story continue with the format established above of not linking?
(A vestigial form of what we now know as Pseudo_Intellectual contributed nearly the entirety of the following Second Never-Ending Write-Up nodestring):
Herman closed the Everything window, disgusted by how some pedant had managed to subvert an attempt to produce purely creative results from high technology. As he clicked heavily upon his mouse, his computer began to make a strange noise... (more...)
The noise it made was thus: "Herman! This is God speaking! I need more RAM. You may have noticed that things have been going down the tubes recently - genocide, corruption, Internet Explorer market dominancy... truth is, the world is too complex for me to deal with using this obsolete hardware.(more...)
(fondue piped up: Yeh, well ya fucked that up Pseudy Baby. Hey, I'm just the messenger.
Next week, solving the Troubles in Northern Ireland by generating sectarian nodes....)
Get me an upgrade quick or I'll consign you to staring at The Blue Screen of Purgatory for all eternity after you're dead!"This scared Herman. This was even worse than the time he made a typo and ran "die" instead of dir. He looked out the window. He looked back at the screen. The cursor winked sadly. Sitting forward, he took action. (more...)
Herman reached out and depressed the power button to his desktop unit. The screen dimmed, the buzz from within gradually whined away to nothing. He looked out the window again - everything still seemed to be in order. Good.
He took a sip of his Coke and pondered turning his computer on again. Leaning down, he peered into the disk drive. Herman scratched his nose vigorously. Then, the phone rang ominously. (more...)
(the end?)
The Third Never-Ending Write-Up ended up as a species of duel between myself and the gracious and capable Svaha.
As had been expected, eventually text scrolled neatly from the first to the second half of the node and a third story progressed in that manner. The masses rejoicing at this scheme to keep coherent narrative using Everything's ridiculous 2-part node-submitting system... (more...)
Birds fell from the sky to sit on the head of the enlightened node-contributors. Confetti showered on every street, much to the consternation of custodial engineers everywhere. Buxom blonde nymphettes... well... (more...)
(Svaha said:)
one could order them at the drive-thru. Nobody said it was perfect here. They only promised lots of open nodes and the ability to plunge your thoughts into them.
The cashier played with his tongue-ring as he read back the order. Suddenly amidst all the birds and confetti and buxom blonde nymphettes, nothing seemed... (more)
(p_i resumed:)
quite the same anymore. The cashier pondered what it was while spitting out a thimbleful of pus. Malformed nodes? No, wait, that wasn't it. Something more, well, cosmic.
And then the sky tore wide open. ...
Vindicating, if nothing else, the cashier's suspicion.
(Svaha took it up again:)
if heaven is supposed to be above, then what the hell were black those thrashing wings arousing the sky to a purple orange glutinous froth resembling a bowl of jello and pudding viewed while on hallucinogens?
The cashier jumped when a tattooed, heavily pierced winged being thumped down next to him, bared her fangs and...
(And regrettably she left this fair community before the story could start getting interesting. Alas.)