THE RISE AND FALL OF THE SHIM: AN EPIC IN FIVE PARTS (now with The Raven!)

[theshirn]

YES I HAVE COMPLETELY LOST MY MIND THANK YOU FOR NOTICING WHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE :getdown:






Be seated, still, let no man leave
From hence, before the tale's been told
In full; a tale both grim and great,
Wonderful and terrible in form,
Vast and powerful in scope.

From the West he came, the Sun's cradle,
Where sea and sky and land do vie
For dominance, an endless struggle -
Fruitless, and yet not; the world
Is by this balance upheld.

On wings of steel and flame he flew,
To the East, the lands of birthing;
He passed the Sun, beyond its fiery eye,
Beyond the yearning arc of the sky,
He soared the roads of heaven.

Till at last he descended from his flight
And left his mark upon the mothering earth.
Ways unseen, unknown, he trod,
Through the darkness and the stone
To the last circle of retrieval.

Yet not alone stood he; his kin,
His blood stood by him, and he by them.
Their burdens he bore, in silence,
In the whispers of the earth and air
He raised the crushed and oppressed.

Hear this tale, hear of his coming,
That all shall know the truth behind
The legend.  For as the blazing
Flame cleanses and purifies,
Still it burns itself away to naught.

feel free to move this to PSL if you think it's too srs/dumb

[HakureiSM]

POETIC SHIM WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE :getdown:

That's quite a lot of epic you got there :3

[Alfred F. Jones]

Rage-- Goddess, sing the rage of the Shim!
If you don't know it I can hum a few bars.
Murderous, doomed, he cost the CPMC countless losses
(or the PSL, or the HME, same difference)
hurling down to the Dimension of Recycling so many posts made by sturdy souls
that they started playing Persona 4. And made social links.

Begin, muse, when the two got in each other's faces,
Seta Souji the fictional character and mad Shim.
What god drove them to fight with such a fury?
Nobu, the chewtoy of Sakura Rurouni. Why? Who knows.
The gods have reasons, and see things unseen by us,
their wisdom penetrates all mysteries;
and also, they can be pissy.

... yes, I thought this was an Iliad-style poem. So I looked through the Iliad, skipped all the parts that were hard to adapt, and made up the rest. Also, this has no rhyme and no meter. :getdown: Pardon me for encouraging your madness.

[HakureiSM]

. :dragonforce:

[Jana]

Maybe I just suck at poetry, but this ain't helping any. :<

This video contains content from EMI, who has blocked it in your country on copyright grounds.

[theshirn]

After I finish the epic, I think I'll post a translation, possibly with annotations.

In the meantime, anyone is absolutely welcome to attempt to interpret the epic in the thread, it'll be amazing.

[Alfred F. Jones]

In the meantime, anyone is absolutely welcome to attempt to interpret the epic in the thread, it'll be amazing.

[23:28] <Sakura-Rurouni> @choose Paradise Lost or The Divine Comedy
[23:28] <%Keine-tan> Sakura-Rurouni: I choose...Paradise Lost! ^_^V
[23:28] <Sakura-Rurouni> Ohhhhhh dear.
[23:28] * Sakura-Rurouni rubs her hands together
[23:28] <Sakura-Rurouni> First, the Iliad. Now, Paradise Lost. Okay then!

I don't even know what I'm doing anymore, but you've awakened the urge to bastardize literature within me. I hope you're happy. Only Trance knows how much I like style parodies, after all.

I have adapted the first book of Paradise Lost for your approval.

A Note on the Verse

The measure is Englysh Heroic Verse, without Rime, as that of Homer in Greeke, and of Virgil in Latine, and of other writers in other divers Languages whose names escape me, I not having writ them down in my Documents as I ought to Have, but rather on bits of Paper lying about the House, which Scraps I later scare can find.
It is without Rime because Rime is no necessary Adjunct or true Ornament of Poem or good Verse, but rather a Pain unto my Buttoks, as only Idiots are like to find Pleasure in Rime, and only Simpletons admire Rime, and unto Idiots and Simpletons alike I say Faugh! Faugh! Faugh!
-- And again, Faugh!

Book I

Of Forumgoers' First Disobedience, and the Download
Of that Forbidden Thread, whose mortal tast
Brought Piracy into the Forums, of all our woe,
Sing Heav'nly muse-- Sing out loud, sing out strong,
Don't worry if it's not Good enow
For anyone else to hear-- just sing, sing a song!
(But try to keep it short, if you don't mind.)
Sing of th' Infernal Shim, whose Rebel Rankes
Of Posters hath embattled TSO, defied Her,
Hath thought to o'erthrow th' Time-Space Administration Bureau,
And make themselves Top Admines of M'tK,
And (Big Surprise!) hath been whaled upon
By TSO, and Vanquished by Her, and kicked hard
Upside their heads by Her, and knocked about
By furious faithful Staff, those little Snits,
Withal o'ercome in battel and sent Down,
Out of th' ethereal air, down to the Lake of Fyre,
Where for nine days and nine nights they lay
Vanquished, wretched, groaning their incalculable Loss,
Wond'ring if maybe it hadn't been such a Good Idea,
Trying to get over on TSO.

High-perched, Shim surveyed their lot
And beheld his many damn?d peers.
JT, for example,
Who oft in CPMCe had spoken of his fair looks,
Bragging of the Babes he'd bagged:
Now horn?d, feet cloven, with fangs and claws,
And dandruffe, and acne, and foule Breath;
His anguished cries roared out, unheard
By his thousand self-abhorring Peers.
Like HakuSM, and Anthony,
Thus too even Jana the Coppola,
A thousand thousand tortured cries
As each beheld the self-same fate;
CPMC Forumgoers no more: they were all Unfunnied up.

With thund'rous Voice did Shim boom
His Speech to his wretched fallyn rankes:
"Valiant fellow Soldiers! Warriors brave!
Knocked thus low we waken to our Station,
Defeated, cast down, engulfed in Flaymes,
But remember ye all, remember ye the Ant!
Recall ye what made that lyttle olde Ant
Bethink himself to move that Rubber Tree Plante!
He had high Hopes-- Hath we not high hopes?
Hath we not high, Apple Pye, in the Skye hopes?
All of ye, joine together, ev'ry one!"
And soon the flaming Pit of RPG resounded
With grim and groaning fiendish Chorus,
Singing along around the Fyre.

[Alfred F. Jones]

Bonus!

Book II.

Then began Shim the Meeting of Friends.
Some voic?d firm Will to conquer the TSA'B,
Other voices held that idiotic.
At last they decided someone should go
Journey forth unto the New World of PSL,
And bring back Intelligence thereof.
And wily Shim said "Who among ye dare
To brave th'awful Chaos, the empty gulf
'Twixt Here and TSAB?"
The multitude of Forumgoers then was silent.
Shim said "Okay, I'll go", and he did,
And he was like "Damn, that was easy,"
And so he flew from the Pit of RPG, into Chaos,
On his Way to the strange new Worlde.

Ahahah what did I just write

[Pesco]

Why's RPG Hell? Fuckin' hater

[HakureiSM]

Heh :/
Music giants forever tucking themselves in their fragile shelter

[nintendonut888]

Recall ye what made that lyttle olde Ant
Bethink himself to move that Rubber Tree Plante!
He had high Hopes-- Hath we not high hopes?
Hath we not high, Apple Pye, in the Skye hopes?

I-

What.

What has just happened?

[Alfred F. Jones]

Why's RPG Hell? Fuckin' hater

TARC would have made more sense, wouldn't it :ohdear:

I-

What.

What has just happened?

You're asking me?

[theshirn]

In the meantime, anyone is absolutely welcome to attempt to interpret the epic in the thread, it'll be amazing.

I sad interpret, not completely overshadow. :ohdear:

I note that yours is a much more direct parody, whereas mine is the telling of a tale in the general feel of one of the great epics.

(I am also rather satisfied with myself for using epic as a noun rather than an adjective for once. :V)

[Alfred F. Jones]

I sad interpret, not completely overshadow. :ohdear:

I note that yours is a much more direct parody, whereas mine is the telling of a tale in the general feel of one of the great epics.

I was worried that you would consider it showing you up, when that was not my intention at all :ohdear: I just wanted to join in the fun.

Yeah, mine's much more of a direct parody, and since I didn't force myself to rime, it was even less creative than the usual. Making TSO into God was just too easy, anyway. BV But really, I won't post any more epic parodies (and yes, using that as a noun), so I will refrain from stealing your thunder any longer and I will look forward to what you come up with. :3

[Jana]

There once was a Sana of Ontario,
Who was trapped in an odd scenario;
He spent all of his moneys,
On Pop'n and funnies,
That strange Sana of Ontario.

Yeah, I got nothing.

[theshirn]

I was worried that you would consider it showing you up, when that was not my intention at all :ohdear: I just wanted to join in the fun.

Hey, it's not my place to tell people what to do - if you want to keep doing this, go right ahead! :ohdear:

PART THE SECOND!

His sister left, he pressed on,
To the fullness of wares, the house pursuing.
He sought to arm himself, to prepare
For the vast commitment of fools
And geniuses, in their part.

Then came before him, crowned in fire,
Joy radiating from his very self,
The man with arms of steel and gold
And bronze, with justice upon him,
Bearing his shield and scale.

Yet swordless was he, unarmed,
Naked before the tempestuous fury he stood.
A failure, he cried, despondent,
Incomplete in form, undone, he raised
His banner nonetheless.

He left him, then, took paths unseen
Once more, where silver serpents thrashed
Eternally, in the darkening earth.
He rode upon their fury, drew their
Hellfire-sent power into himself.

Until he stood upon the presiding heights,
Set his feet upon the ways that spanned
The city, newly come, yet old indeed.
Ascending the path of stone and man,
His bearing fixed on the dark tower.

With grim and ghastly mien he climbed
The arduous road, still bearing his burdens
Towards the pinnacle, the black spire,
Where waited his foe, haughty, majestic,
He would cast him down.

[Pesco]

In the second part you cooked something?

[theshirn]

In the second part you cooked something?

...what?

[Pesco]

His sister left, he pressed on,
To the fullness of wares, the house pursuing.
He sought to arm himself, to prepare

Your sister went out and you had to cook something for yourself :V

[Sana]

There once was a Sana of Ontario,
Who was trapped in an odd scenario;
He spent all of his moneys,
On Pop'n and funnies,
That strange Sana of Ontario.

Yeah, I got nothing.

What happened to the Sana? :ohdear:

[Hello Purvis]

Shim's been listening to Dragonforce.

Good on him.

[Jana]

What happened to the Sana? :ohdear:

The previously mentioned Sana,
Was Shanghaied to Botswana.
After a fight, he then left.
But the leader of the theft,
Sent after him a spy iguana.

That Sana gets into the strangest adventures!

[JT]

MotK, a haiku

Cool internet dudes
Some wish to be little girls
Jetpack chimp battle

JT, for example,
Who oft in CPMCe had spoken of his fair looks,
Bragging of the Babes he'd bagged

wtf when

[ruro]I picked names at random. Haku and Jana were only there because they'd posted earlier in the thread, so their names stood out in my head.[/ruro]

[♛ Apher-Forte]

sure smells like Dev Art poets in here.

/Yui face.jpg

[Caber Knight Etch-A-Sketch]

Darkness of night had cast o'er the world
A testament to the night
who hath reign over a hemisphere
the young lad, not yet a man
read across the pages of muses

Lacking of inspiration, the youth did search
across the hallowed libraries
and through the reveared galleries of artistry
yet found naught one place in which to receive inspiration
the fuel of creation; he did lack this mana of artisans

The archives of theater provided him
with naught one spark.
muses of art, thou hath indeed forsaken
this poor soul, which laments in the cesspool
of creativity, where the minds eye is whithered

The great sin had over taken him
sloth did grip his soul as the youth
did indeed attempt a viewing of the cardboard
yet twas for naught as well;
Lathargy hath won this battle

This youth was captured
nay, subdued, by great energies
which sapped him and fueled the great boredom
And t'was in the grip of a great foe
that he did venture into the class of math

Ye, he of little faith in the deities
who watched over the frosted halls
ventured to the chilled realm once more
it was then his eye passed over the thread
which this tale is retold to you.

His gaze fell upon the tale;
the very tale adorned by the portal
the gateway to these stories told
once again to the youths of the future.
The tale of he who is titled Shim

T'was then that the youth raged
the tale had ended too quickly.
His eyes then fell upon a work
one which had continued the tale
though the praised scribe Ruro

Forsooth! A retelling his origin!
He whose title is The Shim.
Even if t'was but a parody,
his eyes could not help but pass
and muse over the works of masters.

Indeed, these works were great!
For within them contained the majesty
that is He, Shim of Motke!
and indeed, the youth did weep
not of greatness, but of sadness

For within this world, beyond the gateway
from which one must pass through those icy gates
There lacked the works, of he who is known as Shim
The youth wept, his tears becoming ice
they crashed upon the ground.

T'was then that the youth,
Christened The Etch of the Sketch
by the ones who were his peers,
sought to rectify the wrong done here
sought to create more tales of the one known as Shim

T'was then he reached a conundrum
How could he, one who is not known to greatness
and the splendor of the Idiocracy and Maidenhood,
create tale with which to spread the Shims splendor
Whilst not creating emphemeral script

And thus, the youth sat, pondering
o'er the works of He who is known as Shim
To compete with the greatest of scribes
was not his goal, for he wished to aid in such tales
yet doomed to obscurity

T'was then he realized he had sinned
to write of the greatness of the Shim
is to write tales of the Shim
The tale before you is but a false tale
And the youth did cry in sorrow.

How would he spin a tale
based in truth, yet grants splendor
to the one it sings of
the Great Shim, he who challenged
the very fires of hell to sup on the mana of life?

T'was then that the youth sat.
Etch, he who is of the Sketch,
born and fallen to obscurity,
sat upon the floor of the math class.
And there he did sit, waiting for the Shim.

He who is known to conquer fire and stone
He who was cast from the glory of TSO
The one who is titled Shim
He who out-shone those of obscurity.
T'was he who Etch waits for, until times end.

[theshirn]

He who is known to conquer fire and stone
He who was cast from the glory of TSO
The one who is titled Shim
He who out-shone those of obscurity.
T'was he who Etch waits for, until times end.

:blush:

[theshirn]

double posting because I'm awesome

PART THE THIRD

At last he rose upon the sainted street,
Passed o'er the barrier and brick alike
And came unto the Hall, the dwelling of those
Too callow to carve forth for themselves
Against the fierce tempest, a home.

Still burdened, weary, he rose once more;
To the very last, to the arc of heaven,
To the wrathful door he was lifted
Yet constrained; the walls around him closed,
Sealed him within their steely grasp.

Yet no match did they provide!  He raised
His mighty hand, and smote them, and they shuddered,
Groaning before the fierce and powerful force,
And gave way, and at last released him,
Before the door of his great foe.

He halted a moment and gathered his strength,
Marshalled his resources for the confrontation.
He had come far; a thousand thousand he had passed,
Over fire and water, earth and stone,
He rose now above them all.

The final moment come, he raised his great burden
One last time, and threw open the door.
Into the sanctuary he stepped, into the vastness
Of his enemy's splendor - a dream of excess,
The eastern wind carrying.

Before him his foe, all white-gold clad,
Resplendent, treacherous, overwhelming,
He raised his rod and thundered forth commands
And the very earth and sky rushed to his bidding,
Sight and sound and flame.

[Ubiquitial]

double posting because I'm awesome

PART THE THIRD

At last he rose upon the sainted street,
Passed o'er the barrier and brick alike
And came unto the Hall, the dwelling of those
Too callow to carve forth for themselves
Against the fierce tempest, a home.

Still burdened, weary, he rose once more;
To the very last, to the arc of heaven,
To the wrathful door he was lifted
Yet constrained; the walls around him closed,
Sealed him within their steely grasp.

Yet no match did they provide!  He raised
His mighty hand, and smote them, and they shuddered,
Groaning before the fierce and powerful force,
And gave way, and at last released him,
Before the door of his great foe.

He halted a moment and gathered his strength,
Marshalled his resources for the confrontation.
He had come far; a thousand thousand he had passed,
Over fire and water, earth and stone,
He rose now above them all.

The final moment come, he raised his great burden
One last time, and threw open the door.
Into the sanctuary he stepped, into the vastness
Of his enemy's splendor - a dream of excess,
The eastern wind carrying.

Before him his foe, all white-gold clad,
Resplendent, treacherous, overwhelming,
He raised his rod and thundered forth commands
And the very earth and sky rushed to his bidding,
Sight and sound and flame.

Why doesn't anyone write anything in Ballad Meter anymore?

[theshirn]

PART THE FOURTH

The two clashed, furious, unyielding,
The gold and emerald intertwined
In a furious embrace of power, coursing
Through the very walls of the room,
Flashing white and sable.

A thrust, ripping, a sizzling blast
That tore apart the ground beneath
Their feet; a crushing impact
As his burdens at last fell away from him,
Lay silent upon the ground.

His foe speared him with foul curses,
Battered and crushed him with naught
But words, until it seemed that he must fall.
Yet he stood, under the blazing scar, under
The harshest torrent of destruction.

He called forth his own strength,
Summoned from the blackest depths of his being
All the rage, the unreasoning calling,
The torment of paralysis bursting
In a spiral of splinters and despair.

Around the hateful foe it coiled,
Wretched, it cast the fullness of his pride
Upon the divided floor, where it lay
Separate from him, torn apart from its maker,
Desolate and destroyed.

Victorious he thought himself,
Standing upon the heights, in the halls,
Treading upon his foe, humbled before him.
Yet premature was his triumph; his celebration
Would not last through the night.

[Jana]

Once upon a time, there was a Matsuri
Who was indifferent towards breasts of kuri-kuri.
But when a busty lady professed her love,
Matsuri knew not what to think of!
And life suddenly became more screwy.