Subject: I meant you, yanno. =P
Author:
Posted on: 2018-07-05 21:09:00 UTC
One of those cases where you write the wrong word...'Sides, in order to be a true compromise, that particular sleeping dog should be somewhere in the Atlantic!
I'll be the first to admit that we're not doing so terribly well as a country right now, but here's to our ideals of freedom and equality for everyone anyway! They're worth fighting for, and not at all unattainable.
And if anyone is in the NYC area, who's planning on going to see the greatest fireworks show in the nation?
Though truth be told I probably don't even need to go into the city to see the show.
I mean, think about it. Yes, you could make up your own adorable little laws, with your fancy 'declaration' and your 'constitution' (shame you didn't put some of those points into charisma, what?), but why bother? All it'll get you is a 'president' and a 'congress' and a 'senate', which frankly makes you sound like a bunch of academics engaging in erotic cosplay as ancient Greeks.
Wouldn't you rather have a queen (or, if you're feeling politically correct, a king)? Doesn't that just sound better? A country is so much more majestic-seeming if it has its own royalty. Why would you give up the Royal Mail, the Royal Navy, and, er... Burger King I suppose, in favour of... I don't even know what, but I'm certain it sounds worse.
Think about all your favourite books and movies for a second. Lord of the Rings? Aragorn becomes king. Discworld? Lord Vetinari is an absolute ruler. Harry Potter? Set in Britain, under the Queen. Star Wars, Percy Jackson, Black Panther... all the best fiction starts with a monarch.
So come on. Give up this frankly ridiculous pretense that doing anything other than returning to the Empire on which the sun still never sets is somehow 'better'. We know it isn't, you know it isn't, everyone knows it isn't, you're just embarrassing yourselves.
We ask for so little. Just let us rule you, and you can have everything that you want. Just fear us, love us, do as we say and we will be your slave.
Isn't that generous?
hS, on behalf of Her Prospective Imperial Majesty Elizabeth II, Potentially of America
Fictional monarchies are nothing like the monarchy we had when we declared independence. Aragorn, Queen Amidala, and all those other such monarchs are just rulers. They let their people have a voice. King George III didn't let the colonies have any voice whatsoever, and basically treated them like a toy for him to play with. Case closed.
-Twistey
Since I am obviously right, that must mean everything you said is wrong.
Here, have a flag. You may wave it in celebration, provided you do so with a minimum of shouting. There are standards to maintain, you know.
hS
Not every piece of good fiction is about absolute rulers. I stand with the Tau, and the council of Ethereals! Children of Terra, cast off your chains and join the side of good! We have food!
Hello, foreigners. Would you like one of our flags?
And by 'would you like', I mean 'this planet is now part of the British Empire'. Your taxes will be graciously accepted.
hS
(I think we may now be in a Space Captain Smith/40K crossover, in the grim darkness of the far future where there is no more tea.)
But yeah, I am convinced that in that crossover the Horus Heresy kicked off because Horus, being a teenage edgelord Primarch, was severely lacking in moral fibre. =]
Or possibly the Republic of New Eden won. One of those.
And the Tyranids ate the Ghasts.
The inquisitor stalked the deck of the great hexathedral Malaclypse. Below, the world known as Morlock span through space, serene amid the stars.
"Vile!" the inquisitor spat. "I hope your troops are ready for action, Smit, because by the God-Emperor, I will see this planet purged."
Lord Militant General Smit sipped at his steaming mug. "Really, my lord? The populace seem like decent enough sorts."
"They are the vilest of abhuman filth!" the inquisitor snarled. "More fish than men; they've clearly been mingled with some blasphemous xenos race."
"Quite possibly," the Lord Militant General agreed genially, and lifted his cup slightly. "They do make a good cuppa, though."
The inquisitor's glower darkened even more. "That drink," he growled, "is vile xenos filth-"
"Terran filth, I think you'll find." Smit took another sip, smacked his lips. "Your own savants, my lord, have told me that it once grew beneath what is now the Imperial Palace." His eyes twinkled over the mug. "Doesn't that make it sort of holy?"
"Heresy!" the inquisitor gasped. "In the name of the God-Emperor-"
"I understand the battle-brothers of the Glass Cannons have taken to it with distinctly un-Astartes-like enthusiasm," Smit said mildly. "They feel it increases their prowess in battle."
The inquisitor paused. Not even a member of the holy Ordos went up against a Space Marine Chapter lightly. "The abhuman filth are still heretics," he said stubbornly.
"They would agree with you," Smit chuckled, "but I've read about their religious feuds. Beast-milk or citron, saccharine or not, to boil or not to boil... even the Ecclesiarchy couldn't quibble over such trivia, but these people..."
The inquisitor spat on the deck plate. "I've heard enough," he snapped. "Marshal your troops, Smit - it's time to blast this vile planet to dust."
"Oh, I say, that's hardly sporting." Lord Militant General Smit downed the remnants of his drink and reached for the kettle. "Why don't you pull up a seat, old chap, and we can discuss it over a nice cup of tea?"
~
^_~
hS
"Chapter Master, since last we met I have slain Nurgle's Daemon Prince, Tulvan the Suppurating, and destroyed an entire Legion of his infernal forces before they could spread vile contagions throughout the Imperium!"
"Sounds wild, Captain" said Chapter Master Wryght. "I had a patio put down."
"... Square slabs or crazy paving?"
"Square slabs."
"The choice of a WARRIOR!"
It must be debased, as it is entirely lacking in moral fibre. And it must be entirely lacking in moral fibre, because otherwise the Empire of Man would be far more British, what what?
hS, logically unimpeachable
...heck, put some rice wine in it. Now we can talk like civilized people. Perhaps you might like some of this high-quality silk, or these ceramic plates? Note how thin they are, you can just about see your hand through it, but not even a direct hit with a sledgehammer could break it. You know what? We could send some Kroot mercenaries your way. If this goes well there might be some battlesuits in your future. Now, if you'd just sign this free trade agreement, and this mutual defense pact, and this non-aggression treaty...
"Tea? You call this TEA?"
Lord Militant General Smit leant down and tapped a blocky button on the panel in front of him. "Could you offer us a few more thoughts, my good man?" he asked. "These Tow chaps don't seem to grasp the difference yet."
Chapter Master Wryght of the Glass Cannons turned to face the thick window. "Real tea has character. Real tea has potency. Real tea has God-Emperor-damned astringency. This," he swung out with one massive hand, sending the Tau-made samovar crashing across the room, "has none. It is..." The Space Marine leant forward, eyes almost glowing as he glowered through the viewport. "... bland."
"Thanks so much, Chapter Master." Smit tapped another button, and a pair of servitors clunked into the room beyond the glass. One set to work clearing the spilled Tau beverege; the other handed the Space Marine a delicate, steaming china cup.
"Ahhh." Wryght breathed deeply of the aroma rising from his cup. "A lovely cuppa, Smit."
"Not at all, old chap." The Lord Militant General pulled on a thick brass lever, lowering the shutters between the two rooms. "It's best we leave him to it," he said to his guests. "The servitors will be bringing in some biscuits in a minute; he can get rather... intense, what?"
The two slender Tau looked at each other. "I'm afraid I don't understand... 'old chap'," said the senior of the two. "What are these 'biscuits'? Some form of weapon?"
"My dear Por'El, what do you take us for? Savages?" Smit tapped yet another button, and the door shuddered open to permit a servitor to roll through, carrying a broad tray. "Biscuits are... biscuits, obviously! Bis-cu-its. You see?" He waved at the tray, which bore three full mugs and a tin plate, on which several round biscuits were laid. "Mmm, looks like they've dug out the coca chips; you're in for a treat."
The lead diplomat reached down, lifted a mug in one long-fingered hand, collected a biscuit with the other. "How do they... combine?"
"Dipping!" Smit collected his own drink and demonstrated. "Mmm... takes the edge off the crunch, y'see?" He nibbled at the biscuit, beamed at the Tau over his mug. "It would be the absolute height of embarassment to get crumbs everywhere, what?"
"What?" The junior Tau looked up at the senior. "Por'El, this is-"
"Por'Vre." The senior diplomat encapsulated all the warning that was needed in a single word, then turned back to Smit. "We thank you kindly for the beverage."
"Oh, it's nothing," Smit said, waving the comment away, his hand still holding half a biscuit. "Now come on, drink up - don't let it go to waste!"
~
With thanks to Scapegrace for Chapter Master Wryght, and apologies to the people of the Tau Empire for doubtless misrepresenting their esteemed Water Caste.
hS
"Listen, it's been several hours since anyone shot at us, I'm not going to let that go to waste, Por'Vre. We're not leaving until they've signed these, so you'll have your strange alien food and enjoy it."
... if they're making the biscuits with coca. {X D I dunno if that's or a typo or the actual Gothic-ized word for cocoa/cacao or an attempt at it, but uh. Yeah, that is actually a different thing.
Or maybe it was deliberate. A misinterpretation of ancient records that spoke of the "food of the gods," obtained from the seed of a plant once cultivated in the deep green jungles of Sud Merica... {X D
Very amusing quibble aside, this continues to be fantastic and I love it.
~Neshomeh
I feel sure that chocolate exists in 40K, but Lexicanum was no help, so I just went for 'slightly vary it'. Originally I went for cacao, but coca was right there...
hS
What, next you'll be telling me the T'au are joining forces with the Astra Militarum to repel an Aeldari strike force.
And yeah, I know the deal with the apostrophe. But I'm not accepting the IG change, so not this either. Principles, dangit!
I do this to make people ask questions.
This entire thread is hilarious and I love it. {X D
... What's this about boiling, though? I was just recently telling Thoth that you don't boil tea leaves, and I do believe I actually used the words tea-heresy. Nobody really does that, do they? O.o
If you're talking about whether or not to bring the water to a boil, that's fine, and it depends entirely on the variety of tea you intend to brew when it's come to temp.
~Neshomeh
I don't think the results would be pretty. Although it occurs to me that I'm not entirely sure what would happen. Tea makes me physically ill anyways. I may as well consider making an awful cup FOR SCIENCE. Although I probably won't.
See also the ISO Standard cup of tea
I didn't know you don't like tea. Shock! Horror! Worldview, shattered! Talking—like—Kirk!!
Eh. I suppose I'll just have to use virtual hot cocoa instead if the need arises.
And I MAY do that experiment For Science. It will hurt my soul and I will almost certainly regret it, but I'm curious. {= )
~Neshomeh
/ahem/
*runs to the airport screaming "TAKE ME WITH YOU!"*
Really, though, I'm very much looking forward to returning to your Empire. People have been shooting off fireworks in my neighborhood all week long and it's getting annoying.
... I'm sending a fully-armed battalion to put you straight to bed without any civil liberties.
hS, &c &c
(Also we have the USPS which sounds much cooler. So there.)
Also: PFFFFFFFTHAAHAHAHAHA. You'd get minor style points if you pronounced it 'auspice', but you don't, do you? No. I bet you say it 'you-ess-pee-ess', which sounds like you named your country and then remembered a bit you wanted to tack onto the end.
And anyway, what do your postboxes (oh, I'm sorry, 'male boxes', because that's not sexist at all...) look like? Blue dustbins on stilts. They are nothing - nothing, I say - besides the glory of the Royal Mail pillarbox, that marvel of cast iron and regal red-and-gold, which can stand up to bombs that devastate city centres.
hS, &c &c
We run on a level of insanity, corruption, and malfeasance that has killed lesser nations, and these prove it. These prove it:
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/JohnR.Brinkley
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Coca-Cola
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/JohnHarveyKellogg
https://www.reddit.com/r/FloridaMan/
... you want a Nokia.
And neither of us owns Nokia, so even YOU can't hold that over us!
Also, is your Parliament less obstructionist than our Congress? I ask you!
King Canute was king not only of England (obviously his best realm), but also Denmark and Norway. Obviously, if we'd retained control over those lands, we would shortly have conquered Finland too. Therefore we have a moral claim to Nokia, and will be adding their logo to our coat of arms forthwith.
Obstructionism? Pfft, who cares about that? We have a woman whose primary job is to be told she's not allowed into the House of Commons, then to enter anyway. Your argument is invalid in the face of Black Rod's very existence.
hS
Didn't she do the exact same thing? As an American? :V To all of Britain, no less!
It's better not to ask what happened to hS's girlfriend. Better for everyone. Some sleeping dogs...should be left to lie. Some towns...aren't big enough for two.
--Kaitlyn
One of those cases where you write the wrong word...'Sides, in order to be a true compromise, that particular sleeping dog should be somewhere in the Atlantic!
If a female wants to send a message she has to carve it into sheets of metal.
But then I realized that the phrase "femail" was already taken by all the rear orifices at the far-right news outlet Daily Mail. Sadness.
Also, that's a cool mailbox.
-Twistey
