quote:Originally posted by Kanye West: Doogie Howser himself calling DO and asking to see the fucking money from his almost decade long endorsment deal?
If only, NPH demanding his fucking money down the phone would totally make my day. If you must know, we've not really paid any attention to any aspect of the site for years, apart from the odd clearout of forum posts. The forum does some weird caching shit and we've both sort of forgotten how the software works, so every once in a while it generates a fuckton of data and we have to delete stuff to stay within the limits of our hosting package, which is still costing us 20 bucks a month. Neither of us have enough time to moderate the place and because of that we can't allow new registrations, which are 99% spam. All the old members have moved on and no new members are allowed in, so this is basically yer lot. One guy talking to himself.
-------------------- Don't do anything stupid until I get back. Posts: 329
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i didn't watch that godard film, but instead, had a skype meeting then half-heartedly carried out a few thieves guild quests in skyrim.
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I need to stop reading about it as everything just makes me want it more but I'm still on COCKING FF XIII.
And I've decided that the big field bit ISN'T much more interesting. It's just "go to a place, get a mission, walk 10 minutes across the map, kill a beast, repeat".
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Round our way there are several people applying to erect wind turbines, and there are loads of other people 'up-in-arms' (i.e. a little bit miffed) about it. The main complaint is that it will blight the very pretty landscape (Staffordshire Moorlands - very pretty), so I was thinking this morning, why doesn't someone invent a special hydraulic mast for wind generators so they could discretely sink into special pits in the ground during the day and only rise up at night so they wouldn't spoil the view. And it's more windy then anyway, as far as I can tell.
The special pits would have special lids - made out of solar panels, which would work during the day. I'm not sure if the NIMBYs are against solar panels as well though. Maybe the panels could be recessed into the ground a little, but still be pointing at the Sun, obv.
I looked this up on Google Images and the closest thing seems to be a wind generator on a collapsible tripod. But the review said it falls over in strong winds, which seems like a bit of a design flaw.
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Hate to say this, but Tilde check your DMs.
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Octavia
I hate Valentine's Day. Stupid commercialised crap
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Cherry, I've been lent Skyrim by a mutual acquaintance and if last night hadn't been too cold to game and tonight I hadn't been babysitting someone else's sprog I would be all over it like a fat kid on a smartie. You can look at it this weekend if you like.
I love Doctor Benway. If I wasn't married...
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Please read: A personal appeal from Wikipaedia Founder Jimmy Wales
Friends. When I began in earnest to craft the definitive wiki on 'The Internet' I confess I shed a tear at the transformation, in just a few short years, of the ultimate maedium for meeting like- and unlike-minded humans, for talking and joshing and riffing and flirting with them, for drinking and fighting and creating, and taking them into your heart and being taken into theirs in turn - almost heart-stopping in its immediacy and playfulness, but also its (sometimes) evil and downright viciousness - and for magnifying your experience of the digitally-enabled (enbalmed?) working day... its transformation from all this, the internet, into a sack of corporate horse come.
Hear me out. I've sat, beard in cupped palm, through many a thousand million presentation on 'soatse-l-media' and not one of them has given me an iota of an inkling that any of your tweets and facecocks has meant anything in the slightest by comparison with this here little mansion, in which we ran amok - like it was some avant-garde, teacherless educational institution from the end of the sixties - and 'to which we are all indebted and from which none of us can escape'.
There's a great Lorrie Moore story, 'Agnes of Iowa' in which the bored heroine tries to explain to her husband why, years after she moved to the sticks, she she still misses New York: Everyone tried hard to be funny. It was like brains having sex. It was like every brain was a sex maniac.
When I read this I thought of TMO and Seethru and felt stunned and guilty that nearly five years had gone by since I unglued myself from it (a lethal combo of performance anxiety, 'work' and 'daddy' duties). First I posted sporadically, then hardly at all, then I just lurked occasionally. Aware of a dwindling, a falling-away - and made sad and guilty by it, like all the other things making me sad and guilty that, you know, accompany 'work' and 'daddy'. lol.
Fig i. 'Daddy', 'duty' - a modern icon reflects.
About six months ago I had one of my periodic TMO archive binges - I'm sure I'm not alone in this vice - where I spent hour after hour luxuriating in thousands of characters of - I don't know, parcelling it up into laughter, revenge, honesty, spite and ingenuity seems always so glib - let's just say intensity.
It was always intense - and when it stopped being intense it stopped being TMO. Or possibly, when I stopped being intense I stopped being ben.
Pushed back from my desk. Lowered the lid of my laptop. Walked out of the room and away, finally, from some of the happiest moments of my life.
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Sad to see this. Sad like learning an old friend you used to hang around with has died. It shouldn't really make a difference; you haven't spoken in years and there was no chance of you ever rekindling your friendship, but it draws a line under a period in your life.
I was basically a kid when I joined Seethru. 18 years old, working as a temp having just come out of college. Had never driven a car. Now I'm nearly 30, married, got a mortgage, and I'm going grey. Someone from Seethru was best man at my wedding.
I wonder if Darryn is ever overwhelmed by the huge impact his site has had on the lives of the people who have posted here for all that time. And it all just sort of... happened.
Thanks for all the great times, TMO. It's been emotional.
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If someone were to set up a new website that were exactly the same as this one, I'd definitely post on it.
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Octavia
I hate Valentine's Day. Stupid commercialised crap
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It's still going to be here, though, right? Just no new posters and no new posts? We'll be able to read old threads...?
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You don't know what you've got 'til it's gone. Oh yes.
Great times. Great times. The intensity of emotion that could be stirred up via the interweb always amazed me, and has never been equalled. Though I do get the occasional cold-veined feeling when Thorn's horrible to me on Facebook, just for old times' sake.
How weird, though. I haven't been back here for months, and here's a new thread, of a few days old. Did we all detect a disturbance in the force?
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I think for me, tmo definitely facilitated in my delusion that I could write, and has been the launchpad for more than one creative endeavour. It probably contributed to my ill-advised journey into unemployment and borderline alcoholism as I used the delusions to build a hall of mirrors for myself. I made some good pals, got well mashed up at a variety of exciting london events. i suppose it'll never go away as long as i'm still in contact with everybody from it, and i am on a daily basis. apart from a change of girlfriend, things are pretty much as they were when i joined. still corporate, still living in london, still living a pretty similar lifestyle. No kids, no marriage. stasis.
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For me, it cemented the delusion that I was at least fleetingly amusing, and has furthered my failure to develop any other way of forming relationships. Still, it gets me by.
Just read the thread featuring ralph's cum face. Laughed so much my throat aches. That special TMO office laugh.
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All the other forums apart from Life have gone 'archive only' already? WTF? I was thinking of posting something.
Where does everyone go these days?
I hang out on Quora quite a lot, though they have a no humour policy which would probably put some people off. Fucking Stephen Fry was all over it a few weeks ago, but fortunately he's fucked off again now.
Google Plus is ok, but about 95% wank. Haven't found anywhere anything like TMO, obviously.
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facebook, twitter. Feel like I've "failed, badly" at twitter. My winning personality and complex, layered satire are lost there, and instead I am reduced to simply providing an island of calm, poignant navel gazing in a sea of memes, lols, and brags. facebook i use mostly for derailing conversations, gently pushing normal discussions about boring life shit into the realm of the fictional, the magical, and the absurd.
I think really I've realised that I don't have any authentic interest in other people's lives, and see their stories as launchpads my own unique brand of passive-aggressive fuckwittery.
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Cheers for guiding seventeen year old me through my first ecstasy pill seethru / tmo...and just adding a bit more ...culture / cynicism / bollocks, to a chap from Derby. Ten years. brrr.
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Also for introducing me to benway, who I recently shared a cocktail with in a Rio roof top swimming pool as a result of our selling shit via the medium of adverts for dell.
I hang out on www.rllmukforum.com - in theory it's about games but they do all sorts.
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It will be a sad day - but TMO and seethe rue will live forever in our hearts. Like a good tapeworm. One that keeps the weight off but doesn't pop out of your jacksy like a tail.
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quote:Originally posted by ben: Or possibly, when I stopped being intense I stopped being ben.
I had a weird experience about a month ago, related to TMO personas. I was in the US for the first time ever, visiting a city called Charlotte, which, so far as I could tell was like the US equivalent of Reading. I was there completely on my own for a work trip. On the first night I landed got chatting in a restaurant to a guy called Robert. He worked in the Food and Drinks industry, so he knew all the local bar staff and we went on a kind of impromtu pup crawl, starting with Jaeger shots at a bowling alley, and going downhill from there. Then there was this Mexican bar with this drunk dude hassling us, and Robert turned to the barman and said “I don’t like this guy”, and the barman said “forget about him, he’s gone”, and had him thrown out. That was awesome. Evening ended on a somber note in an Irish bar with Robert talking about how he’d watched his dad die. I said I was going to the loo, and left the building because I was worried he was going to leave me with the bar tab. From there I tried to get into a couple of other places; one I got into and promptly got turfed out of "for being drunk" (seriously, what kind of bar is this?), and another I was refused entry to ("No way dude, you're way too drunk"). The last thing I remember was falling down down two flights of concrete steps and thinking "wow, that was exactly the kind of evening Thorn Davis would have had".
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Hard to know what to add to a closing time thread. The website felt like a big part of my life for a long time. Like a lot of other people I struggle to sum it up when telling "real" folk about it (usually as part of a 'how did you meet your wife?' story). It still feels like it was the best discussion forum on the internet; I've never seen another one that was as fast and funny and had so many people engaging so deeply with it, or one where people could play with identity and humour and seriousness and silliness so deftly in the space of a single post and still be understood. It was awesome, it's unrepeatable and now that facebook and twitter have essentially killed this kind of community, we can lean back as old timers, like ageing punk rockers, and comment on how we were part of it when it meant something, before it was all about money. Or how many friends you got - after all there was always just as much prestige on TMO in alienating as many people as possible over the course of an afternoon. #nostalgia.
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EXT. RIVER OF THAMES - NIGHT. 2001. The MOONLIGHT reflects off the calm dark body of water. Like my body. Hard. Ripply. The outline of an anchored 25,000 ton CARGO SHIP (THE SEETHRU) is barely discernible.
CUT TO: INT. - SHIP BOUND HOSTAGES (Mike and his wife Luce, site designer Jake, content writer Sophie, technology expert Brandon and Reece Wilson) are being shoved and kicked into the centre of the ship’s HOLD.
CUT TO: SHIP’S HOLD The PIRATE LEADER, DAVID MCCANDLESS, bellows orders and the PIRATE CREW kick the HOSTAGES to their knees, while dragging them into a straight line. The LEADER orders another PIRATE, LONDON, holding a small VIDEO CAMERA to begin filming.
MCCANDLESS (in Shoreditchese) This series has failed tho. Now someone has to pay! Information is not beautiful when it shows no audience figures and a nazi-sympathiser on the chat room. This was the first time (pron. tee-yime) we tried to do cross platform with Internet. And Rick J fucked us inna ass. Well, Rick J and a shite (pron. shi’ite) script. And David Walliams, who is no Kevin Bacon. But mostly Rick.
MCCANDLESS takes a GLOBAL G21 BONING KNIFE from another PIRATE WEARING SKINNY TROUSERS AN IRONIC TSHIRT AND SHIT 1980s TRAINERS. Glowering through his bias cut at MIKE, he raises the BLADE. Suddenly, MCCANDLESS’ raised hand is dotted with infrared laser dot things. Off guns and that.
BENNY ROSS Poot thee knife down, blossom, or tut’ll end thaffle for ee.
THORN CHRISTMAS I will totally shoot all of them before you shoot one of them. I totally will. Totally. I’ll shoot that one then I’ll roll and shoot that one then I’ll shoot that one with my hand behind my back and I’ll throw a knife at that one and that one will get it. I’ll chew him. That one will be naked and I’ll be oily and I’ll tug him off like blam like a fuckn fist-beaked woodpecker and th...
BENNY ROSS *shoots*
THORN CHRISTMAS *shoots*
HERBS *shoots*
MART *shoots*
BENWAY *shoots*
RAZ *shoots*
NEW WAY OF DECAY *shoots*
SYDNEY *shoots*
CHERRY IN HOVE *shoots*
OCTAVIA *shoots*
RINGO *shoots*
CARTER *shoots*
DANG65 *shoots*
MISCELLANEOUS FILES *shoots*
EVERYBODY ELSE *shoots*
CUT TO: INT. - BRITISH LIBRARY
BENNY ROSS Mr. Bacon?
BACON Youknowitbitch. How much you bench these days? I skinnied down to play bad guys. America today. Bad guys have to be European or skinny. We’re fat, frightened people. Fiennes nailed the Euro vote, but didja see me as the skinny paedo? I actually fucked the kid. Nothing by halves. And still benching 340 with my cock while my balls do cardio. You know my cock invented the word ‘woot’. See that all over twitter. Woot, woot, it’s the sound of my wad. You’re not easy to contact, Ben. We’re just waiting for two more motherfuckers.
CUT TO: CHURCH DOORS OPEN. SMOKE. TWO FIGURES AGAINST A MOONLIT SKY.
STATLER They killed Seethru now they want to kill TMO?
WALDORF Kill? Put out of its misery.
STATLER Misery? I love misery?
WALDORF Then you’re gonna love the rest of this laboured gag.
STATLER My wife wore one of those.
WALDORF No wonder your child has serious underlying issues and finds dealing with common concerns traumatic. He should brush off problems with a song and just be happy. We can show how this applies to disabled children and children of ethnic minorities. But not gays.
STATLER Ho ho ho, etc.
BACON reaches into his jacket and withdraws a PHOTO, which he hands over to BENNY. He looks at BENNY’S FOREARM and eyes the ‘EXPENDABLES’ tattoo of the RAVEN on a PIE. BENNY eyes the photo. It is the image of a MIDDLE-AGED man. His chest looks like HOMER SIMPSON.
BACON That’s a picture of Darryn Rotisserie, Leader of Teemo, which is a small, barely developed chatroom nation due east of Hamsterdam. Ten years ago, Darryn took the people of Seethru and made himself headman. And Teemo has been a human rights graveyard since.
BACON shows BENNY a picture of KURT RUSSELL.
BENNY ROSS Jesus Christ. They cut off Kurt Russell’s legs?
BACON No. That’s Jonesy999. He’ll be your contact.
TWO DRUMS and a CYMBAL roll down the stairs. BUDUMM-TISH.
+++
Author note: I didn’t fuck a kid. I imagineered my character and face fucked a dwarf wearing school uniform. That’s method. I learned that offa Larry Oliveyey, who fucked a whole garrison of dwarves dressed as Schutzstaffel for his role in Wild Geese II. But what I meant to say is Happy Christmas and this may be shit but it’s my way of saying goodbye and TMO meant a lot to me.
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