You know, this is outrageous.
The primitives have no sense of proportion, no sense of decency and civility.
One has a figment of a scintilla of respect for the CalPig primitive and the brain-damaged primitive, both of whom took especial care to remember Redstone on Skins's island; the problem is, they seem to be the only ones.
When leg-clotted Khephra died on duty in front of the computer the winter of 2004-2005, and then when the late red round one died about eight months later, for days and days there were campfires burning on Skins's island, miles of threads, the primitives wailing and lamenting and gnashing their teeth and rending their garments in sorrow.
In both instances this went on for days, if not more than a week, and there were hundreds of campfires.
Redstone gets two campfires on Skins's island, and they're about burned out now.
As mentioned in another thread here, Redstone was a Primitive of Quality, whereas these other two were just gaseous fat lads. For every commemoration they got, it's only right and decent that the primitives remember Redstone ten, twenty, times more.
Redstone was on Skins's island about eight years. Khephra was on Skins's island about three and a half years. The late red round one was on Skins's island.....seven months.
Redstone custom-wrote his own stuff to amuse the primitives. Khephra simply copied-and-pasted news stories, which any idiot can do (the kaput primitive, kpete, certainly proves that). The late red round one, all the whole seven months he was around, just always begged for money, even though he already had quite a stash.
This is outrageous, the way the primitives have no sense of proportion, no sense of gratitude.
A Primitive of Quality without honor among the primitives.
On the flip side of the coin, decent and civilized people took especial care yesterday to commemorate the late Redstone.
I dunno if anybody noticed this, but by mid-evening yesterday, the first four and a half pages of the DUmpster were threads memorializing Redstone, at least for a few hours.
When nadin, who's usually on the first page four or five times every day, came lurking over here, she had to dig through to the fifth page to find anything about herself.
We remember. The primitives forget.
**** them.
