Impostor

Hi Everybody, you may remember me, or you may not. The thing is, some time ago I was a member here and then I stopped coming sudenly and didn't really talk to any of you for a long time. And I've kind of been feeling bad about that. Sorry. Just to let you know that I am okay, and hopefully all of you are too, and I'm not coming simply due to time matters and not because I hate all of you and want to murder you with kitchen utensils or anything. Impostor

Ohmygod! I got the CD today (compare this to the others', and you will understand why Canada Post has the wonderful reputation that it does) What can I say, the formatting the production (I don't mean in terms of songs, I mean in terms of CD, although the production of some songs is also) is amazing. I've got to echo the sentiments of Peredhil and Gyrfalcon, saying that I've seen (and have!) professionally made CDs that aren't made as well as this one. On a side note, I am apparently Wyvern's (better looking, of course ) twin. Hopefully a review of the actuall CD will follow in this space shortly. My initial impression is that it is miles deeper than "Chronicles," (not to take anything away from that) and the raw power and anger of some songs ("Makeshift Patriot" and "Divine Disappointment" come to mind) is overwhelming, but is nicely matched by the introspection of others ("A Murder of Memories" and "It's of my Nature," especially) and there's only one song that I am disappointed by ("Brick Wall") which, of course, may be changed by repeated lessons. Cheers, Impostor

Thank you very much, Wyvern, for holding this contest, and it was great to be a part of it. (I for one thought Nyyark's entry was the best one) Wyvern, I will be sending you my address shortly. Impostor waste not - want not

hear hear! Impostor "for he's a jolly good fellow"

This poem immediately reminded me of something, but I couldn't figure out what and then I thought I got it. I said to myself "DO go naked into that good night," huh? And then I said Oh, wait, it was gentle, wasn't it... what am I saying? this is almost subversive in its funniness Impostor where have all the flowers gone?

/me Is getting annoyed for being told he hasn't got it, when he clearly has. What did I do wrong? threes are in the land of doubles, and twos arent. odd is and even isnt. five isnt. (fifteen is, though) Which part of this isnt true?? And where did I give away the secret?? I have no idea why I'm suddenly so personally touched by this. Impostor anyway, there's no lumpen in the land of the doubles. So there.

(Is very reminded of that good ol' Adam Sandler song. (And no, not "Piece of Shit Car.")) Impostor in love with the sun

Am I alone when I think my criticism was good if only in that it gave us the above post? My response, although it feels somewhat crude: "Yes, but in that case, why must it rhyme?" While I think rhyme is very important, and usually don't like poems without it, it seems like in the particular line I already quoted, it's bending [english] over backwards just to rhyme. And it's like trampling your own poem no less than if at the end you added some sort of lawnmower joke line. Sorry to be so harsh, it's obviously better than any of my poetry, but I just can't help but feel the what could be the crystality of it is dragged by "A frosty glow in dark it cast" If I could offer constructive criticism, I would say worry less about it rhyming. Impostor I wear a suit and tie, but my heart is filled with gloom

It's like we're getting Legionnaire's disease. Only, in a good way. Impostor heading for another collision

ooh, lemme guess there are threes but no twos (oddly) in this land of doubles? In fact, you can say that there are odd numbers, but no even numbers in the land of the doubles. Then again, there are no fives. Impostor the land of doubles sucks 'cause they've got fucking Atomic Kitten instead of the Beatles.

It's pretty good. but It's not simple enough. like "a frosty glow in dark it cast" for example would be a great line for some sort of fantasy poem, but for a poem about a sigh it's very convoluted. Impostor one thing's for sure, but what is it?

To quote Orlan, "Orlan es un hombre muy smart-o"

This is good. I mean, I like it. Especially I enjoy how depressing the image of cars that have lost all but the barest semblance of roof-shape as being very depressing. And the looking out the window - I think back to a specific window when you write it, the imagery is so clear. I mean it's better at explaining cold than that finnish movie I was dragged out to see that I didn't think was that good, and that was hailed as like the greatest Finnish thing ever around here, so you know... I mean it's good, but it's not "Stained Room" good. Impostor J'aime pas la soupe

No, look, maybe you're not the one who made it up, but I'm also not the one who made it up. I caneven tell you what the (true) version of the proverb means: It's a variation on When somebody says something stupid loudly, it doesn't make it any smarter. or If you keep saying the same kind of thing over and over, nobody but the wind will pay attention. Now what could your version of the proverb mean? every animal/human should do what is expected of them? Impostor there's so much beauty it could make you cry Update: I looked in my "Russian Proverbs and Sayings" book that I somehow have I don't know why. "The Dog Barks and the wind carries" "The Dog Barks and the horse walks on (the boyars ride on)" "The Dog barks even at its master" So, apparently, it seems your proverb also exists. And also means the same thing! But probably in some camel-prone part of Russia?? P.P.S.: Sorry to glut up the poetic justice topic with this nonsense stuff, I'm not going to do it anymore. :wigglycabbage:

"the dog barks and the camel carries?" that's a pretty weird proverb, man. what's that even supposed to mean??? Impostor "Without work, you can't even catch a fish in a pond" - another Russian proverb. This one is utterly untrue though.

I just want to say: I changed my entry, I hope somehow my old one isn't counted (against me?) Anyway, good luck to everybody, and I feel kind of stupid because now I've killed the impetus for writing that I had - and a week earlier than was necessary. Impostor "the dog barks and the wind carries" - Russian Proverb (for some reason few non-Russian people understand its meaning)

You might have seen this posted up for Wyvern's Poetic Justice Contest, but I've decided I want to change my entry, so this one will have to be "runner up #2." Anyway, here it is. (Keep in mind that Poetic Justice is the assigned topic). --- Laura Laura woke up and immediately realised something was different. It was her same room. The same posters. The same blue curtains. The same door. But it was the door that was giving off the aura of change. But she had a late night yesterday, and she was tired. There's still time for exploration, when I have some more energy, she thought. After all, maybe it's just the headache causing this sensation. Slowly she drifted off back to sleep and had a dream. And you were in it, and you, and the fax machine was too. Laura woke up and slowly came to the realisation something was different. Hadn't this already happened earlier?, she thought to herself. She jumped straight out of her bed. She quickly put on something to wear, but she couldn't find her glasses anywhere. No matter, she doesn't really need them anyway. She opened the bathroom door, and the feeling of weirdness increased. She brushed her hair she brushed her teeth, she brushed aside her thoughts. She went downstairs and had some jam and toast for breakfast. Laura woke up in a cold sweat. She had a frightening dream where she was being chased by office equipment. She rushed to the bathroom and threw cold water at her face. She felt better right away. But she was running late already, and she knew her research group would be worried, at least somewhat. She foned the university "Hi, Dr. Hill? I'll be about half an hour late today, I'm very sorry, just start the experiment without me." Of course that didn't make much sense. She went out the door and was just about to lock it when she realised she was still inside her apartment. That made even less sense. She tried the maneuver again, with similar results. As strange as it was, her apartment door led not outside, but to an exact copy of her apartment (if slightly neater and better decorated). Of course, she now had twice the floor area she did minutes ago. On the other hand, she couldn't get out, and it was getting hotter and hotter, as if there was some giant holding a magnifying glass to her building complex. But that wouldn't make any sense. Thomas Hill woke up to the realisation that he was still in the laboratory. He had stayed to work over time the previous day, as he had developed an interesting idea he wanted to follow. My wife will kill me, he thought. What's worse was he fell asleep, and didn't get any work done. And he still had yesterday's clothes on. He wanted to take a shower, but the safety shower wasn't really so great, because the water is cold and there's no soap. Plus the water stream hurts, you know. Dr. Hill stretched and yawned. He heard a distance phone ring somewhere in the building - probably another floor, and in any case, the machine will take it. Half-an-hour later, as Dr. Hill was sipping an orange juice he got in the building cafeteria, the door flew open and a pretty young (20-ish) girl with oval glasses and brown hair in a ponytail flew through the door. "Good Morning Thomas!" she said, half-cheerfully, half-apologetically. Hill had never seen her in his life. He put on an English accent as he said "I'm sorry dear, but you don't exist." And with that, she vanished. Hill immediately regretted the incident, as he could really have used an assistant. I suppose I could look for an ad in the emplyment desired section in the morning paper, he thought. And with that purpose, he locked the door to the lab and headed downstairs. And nothing out of the ordinary really happened. --- Impostor "Is he a jerk? No! Just confused"

please explain to me how it is that you're so fucking good at this. (is overwhelmed) Impostor bring on a brand new renaissance, 'cause I think I'm ready

[this is my entry, I reserve the right to change it/add another one later.] ---- The Colonist I It was around 20 minutes before sunrise on Gamma-Rutherford as Alvaro was walking home after a long night. A fifth generation Gamman, Alvaro had never been above ground after sunrise in his whole life. His great-great-grandfather, the great Flibustiero Guarran - the founder of this colony - had supposedly spent over a month on the surface, exposed to the brutal daytime temperatures and glare - but even Alvaro, proud as he was of his heritage - had thought that to be more myth than actual fact. He had just spent a couple of hours at Lucia's and had to get home quickly, before his wife began to seriously suspect anything (bless her heart). His destination was only two blocks away, so Alvaro slowed his step, to give his tired mind time to think of a decent excuse. He didn't think he should tell Ana-Maria that it was overtime at work - no haciendado, no matter how cruel - not even one of THEM - would keep a human at work so close to sunrise. Besides, Alvaro's (admittedly good-natured) refusal to do any more work than was necessary had become something of a running joke, and one even Ana-Maria and the kids were in on. That was another thing on Alvaro's mind. Midnight today, just before he headed out for lunch he had a rather unpleasant meeting with Sr. Agilla. Despite all the smiles and pleasantries, the gist of it was clear to Alvaro - he had to shape up, or Agilla would replace him. "Probably with one of THEM!" came an unpleasant thought. The Agillas were greatly indebted to the Guarrans for their survival - as was every human family on the Gamma-Rutherford settlement. To think Alvaro'd be thrown out on the street and replaced by AN ALIEN! - why Grandpapa Guarran must be spinning in his grave. After all it was Grandpapa - Alebardo Guarran to most people - that led the human settlers against the invasion of Betans (from their home planet Beta-Rutherford, they called themselves "Goloxes") over fifty years ago. Betans claimed they had exclusive rights to Gamma-Rutherford, yet this was as ridiculous as if humans tried to stop settlement on one of Jupiter's moons. Alvaro himself still distrusted the Betans - their new peaceful facade was just that, he reasoned - they were just waiting for an opportunity. Understandably, then, Alvaro had voted against the Betan Right to Employment Resolution three years ago. Alas, it had narrowly passed, and Alvaro acquiesced - after all, we humans - unlike these Aliens - honour the great Gift of Democracy. But, this was too much! A BETAN, taking HIS job! What's next? A Betan mayor? President? It wasn't that he had anything against them per se, it was just difficult to believe in their sudden amicability after years and years of war. After all, one day in school we teach that Betans are invaders, and the next they're just our neighbours, peers, like us - "A Conscious Race" - was the common terminology. Alvaro looked at his watch - eleven more minutes left - he had plenty of time. As the streets began to be more and more empty of humans, the few tall, long-trunked Betans began to stand out - that was another thing - the Betans didn't mind the light and the heat. And because of this they could work any time of the year, of the month, of the week. Not only that, they would often work for mere pennies - no wonder the human populace of the Settlement felt displaced! And even more alarming how eager young betans were to learn human ways. Fernan (Alvaro's youngest) already had 6 betans in his class - and there was even talk of hiring a Betan to teach at the school. Alvaro had to admit to himself that it would make some sense, for an Intelligent Life Studies course, at least. But where do you draw the line? I suppose it could work if Betans kept to daylight and humans to nightlight, Alvaro thought. That's definitely something he would bring up at the next council meeting - after all, it's fair to both us and them. But this living together was more unnerving than anything. The sight of amorous young Betans locking trunks on the street corner made him cringe every time. And the smell and sight of their food and drink - petroleum-based - was unappetizing, to say nothing about the black patches a treat spilled on the sidewalk would leave. And their language! - the hollow, melancholy moans would send shivers up one's spine. No, Alvaro decided, as it was, he couldn't stand for this 'integration.' Maybe... Alvaro was interrupted mid-thought by a shriek of "Help." The language was Spanish, yes, but the voice was definitely Betan - which was confirmed by a similar yell in the alien language. As much as he was not in favour of Betan infiltration, Alvaro was not one to resort to crime to voice his opinions, and he despised those who did. It was probably Marco Marquez or Hernan Herrero that was at fault, Alvaro quickly decided - both known thugs, and ugly-minded people - worse than the Betans. Alvaro wasn't afraid of them, but he could see how they would threaten the deceptively thin, frail Betans. Alvaro quickly moved toward the sound of the scream. It was indeed Hernan Herrero who had pinned a relatively large Betan against a wall - no surprise there. Hernan was a violent man, and when Alvaro was a kid, Hernan - who was a year older - would frequently mock him and throw rocks at him, small things, no doubt, but also very small-hearted. Alvaro would relish the thought of stopping him now - of being the hero. As Alvaro was standing but two buildings away, thinking of the best way to announce his arrival, he realised the sweltering heat was becoming unbearable, and the blinding, blue light on the horizon. He checked his watch - it was only two minutes to sunrise. II Alvaro Guarran was arrested by the police and held for questioning regarding the apparent murder of an unidentified betan the next evening on his way to work. Alvaro pointed to Herrero as the perpetrator, and Herrero was immediately arrested, and tried for murder. However, here something must be said about the Criminal Code of the settlement. In those first few shaky years of colonisation, survival was as yet unassured, and complete co-operation was indispensible. As a result, Flibustiero's Code of Law decreed that even the smallest crimes carry the toughest sentences. In Alvaro's case, this means that his alleged Criminal Negligence was punishable by death, much as Hernan's killing was. Admittedly Alvaro knew this well. And although he was understandably nervous he believed in his own innocence - and in his acquittal - because of the extenuating circumstance of the sunrise. In his own mind he was confident that if not for the heat and the glare, he would have saved that Betan. III Alvaro's trial was an event the likes of which a community as small as the Settlement experiences only rarely. Nearly everyone within the town walls came to see justice carried out on the descendant of a Legend. "How the mighty have fallen" was a common sentiment, as was "This trial is inexcusable." By tradition it was held outdoors, during the space of one night, with the verdict to be decided upon and carried out before morning came. Such expediency meant that a trial by jury was infeasible - so the Settlement had a judge, Prudencio de San Sebastian - whom the name fit perfectly. He was known as a fair man, not rash with the lives of his own people, nor with those of Betans. Alvaro's trial was an especially long and nerve-wracking one. Argument after argument was presented. The prosecution (those scumbags, mumbled Alvaro) sought to undermine his character, and called his mistress Lucia Renaldes to testify. Alvaro held no grudge against Lucia for telling the truth. Still, even if he was set free, Alvaro's life would be in shambles. He would no doubt be fired from work as well - he saw the frowning, hawk-like face of Arsenio Agilla in the crowd as he was being publically humiliated. Finally, after what seemed like an endless day, it was twenty minutes to sunrise, and Judge San Sebastian signaled the end of the arguments. "I have made my decision," he announced in a booming, yet somehow calming voice. "Alvaro Guarran, you are hereby declared totally innocent and clear of all charges. Humans cannot be expected to function after sunrise. It is unfortunate that this death had to happen, but the fault does not lie with you." Alvaro felt as if an enormous stone was lifted off his back. Secretly, he had feared the worst, and to live to see another night was all he could have asked for. His mind in another world, Alvaro stumbled towards home. He must have taken some awful hook, as sunrise was approaching and he was still far from home. As if brought-to by the blue glare, Alvaro began to race towards his underground abode at the end of the street. He ran as the seconds to sunrise ticked down 20... 15... 10... He no longer could see, his head felt as if it was about to split open, it was only by luck that he had reached the entrance to his house with 3 seconds left. Relieved Alvaro ran at the door. But it was locked. --- Impostor "Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd. If anything was wrong we should certainly have heard" - W.H. Auden

I can only say that I'm very relieved that this no longer looks as serious (I mean for Falcon) as I thought it was. Here's to hoping he'll be around here for a long time Impostor "I long for the days/ when they used to say/ Ma'am an' Yessir!" - Spoon

I have this burning fear that someone will take this for a serious poem so I better say what the answer to the riddle is: A rubik's cube. Well, I thought it was funny. Not the rubik's cube, that's just damn annoying Impostor who pronounces "melee" differently every time he says it

So, before I got a good idea just right now of what to do for Wyvern's contest, I wrote this. Which, thankfully, I won't need to be submitting. I do have the slight excuse that the genre and theme was basically suggested by Wyvern's CD and are not something know anything about - Something's getting me depressd All this talk about mass des- truction, man-made disasters the world-masters Using civillians for target practice All the while saying "Come on you can trust us" But if the past is any indication they have a contest who can blow up the earth fastess And in the end the cockroaches will outlast us And that's why I call it poetic justice George Bush Jr. Like his daddy but loonier Stomps on afghanis like Eugene on petunias Rumsfeld Rice Ridge and the rest of the warhawks. What about John Ashcroft? He don't give a shit about justice To him, she's just some chick with brass tits Cover her up before the next Great Flood hits He's even worse than the rest of those halfwits And in the end the cockroaches will outlast us And that's why I call it poetic justice Impostor Do you really want a pancake?

that reminds me pf a stupid joke: A man is taking a guided zoo tour Guide: And this here, straight from the lab, our newest creature, the one we're most proud of, the liodile - the head of a lion on one side, the head of a crocodile on the other Man: wow, that's impressive. But how does it, you know? Guide: Well, you see, that's why it's so ferocious. Impostor never been to Chicago at night

I'd say that it was a riddle, but then, it's a little too easy for a riddle. Anyway, I just think why not do this for comedy's sake, even if no one but me finds it funny - who am I trying to please, right? - BlueGreenOrange RedYellowWhite I twist and turn It doesn't seem right I twist and turn But I can't find peace This is entrapment and not release BlueGreenOrange WhiteYellowRed I can't get it out of my head If only I could pull myself out of context Maybe then I'd know what to do next That's it I'm staging a protest Why do we attach labels then we can't peel them away As everything gets more muddled everyday It's the same story for everyone They call it "playing games" But it sure isn't fun Impostor laugh at yourself and you shall never cease to be amused

My name - Impostor - likewise came through archmage. I was in a really very bad guild and our supposedly secure message boards were beset by an impostor. Well, we moved them soimewhere else, naturally, but then some guy with a sense of humour - which was frowned upon then - pretended to be that impostor - imposted the impostor if you will. To me that seemed very mind-bendy (that's a word!!) and funny, so I've used it for message boards for AM-related things since (I don't think I ever used it in AM - or maybe I did once). Rezure (rhymes with unsure) just sounded cool, but later I figured out if read wrong it was creepily close to crappy 80's band Erasure, so... Impostor I can see a better time when all our dreams come true