Previously:
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1340196069
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1333279425
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1326391378
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1315193920
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1292544745
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1250275007
http://4-ch.net/dqn/kareha.pl/1213916710
By my calculations, we will reach the 7000th of September somewhere around >>700 of this thread. How appropriate.
At three in the morning, the sirens sounded and the faithful fell from their bunks in the frigid cold for the first of the day’s many prayers. Predictably, the priests walked through two minutes into the proceedings to ferret out anyone lacking sufficient faith. Their attention could be drawn by anyone attempting to hide from the cold, imperfectly mumbling their prayers, or not wailing loud enough when it was time. Any small failing in the all-important act of prayer was sure to bring misfortune when dealing with Espeon, the Son of God, Praise be Unto Him.
Three minutes in and the priests had left satisfied, the door locked behind them, and at five minutes all but the most faithful had climbed back into their beds. The lights were switched off, and praise was replaced by wet coughs, snoring, and annoyingly for Espeonito, the sound of masturbation from the bunk below his and urgings, despite the rules against it, to talk from the bunk above. Espeonoshi was up there, fresh from monastic orders. It had been a kind and merciful attempt to steer him back to perfect faith that cost him five kilograms in body weight to the monk’s diet, a tooth to rot, and two toes to frostbite. Despite all the mercy shown him, he seemed ready to return with this outrageous behavior: talking to the fellow faithful outside the allotted time...
Espeonoshi half-whispered and half-shouted: "Espeonito! Come on! Talk to me!"
“Not now!" Espeonito whispered back, and muttered beneath his breath, “Praisebeunhim." He hadn’t slept well after midnight prayers and now saw the wisdom in restricting idle talk to only fifteen minutes following dinner...
The door lock slid open and everyone audibly froze. Coughs were stifled, blankets tightened around necks, and the masturbation stopped, the offender loudly flopping onto his side. Everyone in the bunks surrounding him cringed; it was obvious that he had been caught and it took no time for the priests to find him. He was carried away screaming for reform in the monastery, to the great relief of his neighbors.
Espeonito hoped this reminder would quiet Espeonoshi, but it had no such effect.
“I’m telling you, I saw him up close, Espeonito! I could have reached out and touched him!"
“You’d be struck dead", Espeonito yawned the reminder, and again added “Praisebeuntohim" for good measure. He tried to sleep but it was not easy given all Espeonoshi had said of late even though it was most certainly a lie placed in his mind by the devils that Espeon, the Son of God ate alive...
When he had been taken away, Espeonoshi said he had first found his place in the monastic order in the rather comfortable job of cleaning a palace in the Great City. He spoke of wonders there such as pieces of glass that displayed scenes from around the world, but mostly men running and kicking a ball. He spent his time between the hourly prayers required of the monastic orders scrubbing floors and polishing furniture, never laying eyes on the master of this house until one day, by accident, he opened a door he had been told to never open and there he saw, he claimed anyway, Espeon, the Son of God. He sat before a panel of glass like the others in the house, though this one he made move by his will and a small device attached to it by a wire. According to Espeonoshi, this glass panel had on it the image of a nude goddess from a perfect world where eyes were large, noses and mouths small, and where no one grows old. While it would seem fitting that Espeon, the Son of God, Praise be Unto Him would wish to peer into the world from which he came from time to time, Espeonoshi suggested that the Son of God more than pined for it: he was masturbating to this image of godly perfection.
Espeonito tried very hard not to believe it but Espeonoshi had never lied before. Why wouldn’t Espeon just summon this goddess to him? Or he could have any woman in all the land, for they were his property after all. Then again, no mortal was the equal of a young goddess. Perhaps no goddess was willing to visit such an impure land lacking in faith. Espeonito’s faith was shaken by mere rumor, it seemed. Asking a priest for clarification would only send him to the very same harsh orders where Espeonoshi had eaten nothing but boiled buckwheat for seven months and spent his days cutting firewood in deep snow. Espeonito was left to stew in his thoughts, trying his best to think of better times when his faith had been unshaken...
Once Espeonoshi and he had left their work detail twenty minutes early to get a head start on all the others on the Great Day and managed to get a spot so close to the Holy Pillar that they might actually lay eyes on Him should he appear. They saw Espeon, the Son of God, as he truly must be: clean-shaven, wearing brilliant robes, voice booming over the masses gathered below Him. In acts of ultimate sacrifice, two monks near them slashed their throats the second He appeared before them and lay dying at their feet though the glory before Espeonoshi and he was so distracting they did not notice.
Espeon himself so rarely led the proceedings that they had not seen him since they were children and then only as a very distant speck, smaller than an ant they were so far away. They didn’t know what to expect and couldn’t think above the screaming of the masses. Normally it would be the issuing of extended dour prayers by priests followed by a reading of the annual production report, but this was going to prove much different. Espeon asked all to join along with him in a “song", a word that caused much confusion among the masses and they all looked to one another for an answer.
“Sing with me!" Espeon demanded, and he made a strange noise boom along with his voice.
That wonderful prayer, that wonderful work of art, as beautiful as any marble sculpture of Espeon, the Son of God, was still with him to this day and it warmed him just to think of it. He bit his tongue so as not to accidentally utter a single note of it out loud: “He was a sk8r boi, she said see ya later boi. He wasn't good enough for her. She had a pretty face but her head was up in space..."
(THE END)
Some notes: I had a dream that a business partner and I bought a building in San Francisco that was formerly a cult compound. The real estate agent explained that the cult members were not allowed to talk to one another. Evidently the cult had such a weak basis that discussing it even once would make the whole thing fall apart... and it did.
I was also going to try to explain that Espeon was jackin' it to Ichigo Mashimaro porn, but it was way too much work and that shit is boring even in summary...
Also, post count +1!
What a marvelous story, mr. >>682-687! I cried my eyes out as the undertone of NEET sacrifice became more apparent!
Reporting 1993-09-7000, Moscow time.
Just under 4 hours and 8 posts now.
We're not going to 700 GET until the 7001st.
The climax is starting...
okay everybody shhhh
This will be the lamest of 700 GETs to ever grace 4-ch.
I still love you all no less, disregarding of how "ironically" retarded some of you are!
>>706
>>695,696,698 were actually my current thoughts at the time I posted them
First that one faggot ruined the questions thread, now some faggot ruins this one, next someone will ruin the 700 thread one.
I just know it's going to be something like, "Ticks is le epic win xD #archduke" or some other dumb 4chan/circlejerk reference I don't understand.
>>708
Thanks for your comment, I really appreciate you making the situation better.
>>709
What does this even mean? Are you the kind of person who dislikes critics because they don't make movies/films/games themselves?
7000? That's nice. Here's to the next milestone, then.
It's nice that you like DQN, but I think you're getting a little bent out of shape!
You don't need surveillance cameras everywhere if you give cameras to the retards
They'll surveil everything that calls their attention, and won't feel surveilled themselves
Brilliant
This storm is sure bad. I can't wait until it passes.
sure is nice to be landlocked
>>708
this thread can't be ruined because it was never a good one to being with. CHECKMATE.
>700 Name: : 1993-09-6999 23:24
>This will be the lamest of 700 GETs to ever grace 4-ch.
Damnit guys.
QUICK GET TO THE >>777
I've never been so glad to break up with anyone before. What an idiot they turned out to be! (・ω・ )
Pulverised radioactive guinea pig brains on drugs.
Do you participate in distributed calculations like BOINC?
Recently, I decided to return after a half-year break and donate more of my CPU time to science. I estimate my new PC to be up to 50 times more productive than the old one.
I hope they will be able to finish the Clean Energy project soon.
Put me in the Lorenz butterfly attractor.
Antigone is really nice.
I want a gun and a cigarette and a car and the ability to drive.
Should first-timer like me build his own Linux from Scratch or just stick to Ubuntu?
>>728
I don't really see how "first-timer" and "build my entire own Operating System" go together.
Funny story about GCC, I used a preinstalled linux (modified XandrOS) on my EEE PC. One day I decided to do some C coding for the sake of the old days, BAM, I can't! Some dependencies were already installed and they were different from repo and something was completely missing. After killing a couple of evenings on this I gave up and never coded wrote a program again.
If you want to do some heavy lifting, Arch is a happy medium.
GCC is only good for one thing, and that's compiling your own compiler before it goes fully self-compiling.
>>730
I did LFS when I was a first timer. But only after I failed to install Gentoo. I realized my mistake when I built LFS.
It's hard but it's rewarding.
why are so many dokyuns computer nerds
>>735
When you have a group of people on an internet message board who spend all their time on their computers, you can bet quite a few of them will be computer nerds.
How are compiler made? Who programs the programs that program?
>>737
I imagine the first one was written in assembly, and the assembler was written in machine code.
I remember reading something about how one of the first compilers was actually created by tricking an interpreter into writing a program somehow, but I think I dreamt that.
For now she's still that vulgar brown colour, but I know she'll turn soon enough.
Clonepa is the theoretical pinnacle of human existence. We should all seek to become more like Clonepa.
Happy Halloween.
>>742
But he has genitals, just no butt. Also who wants to hang around with Beady Eyes?
I made my mum curve a pumpkin. It was cute.
I am an awful person.
That wasn't as cathartic as I hoped.
What could possibly be more important?
I FORGOT TO CARVE A PUMPKIN!!!
I drank that AJ too fast.
They may be stronger, more courageous, better equipped, fighting for a nobler cause and so on - but, never forget, there is one aspect they will never beat us in! We still have the pointiest buildings!
I want to know what the "☆ Madoka Magica Magikakafe The Movie" "Kyubei Kyu~u almond tofu" tastes like.~
I don't recall using teleportation, and yet there I was. Alone. Naked.
I wish the tag on this shirt I'm wearing wasn't so itchy.
What if I just killed everybody.
I want to go home and cry and scream into my pillow and sleep.
I can't see her. Not like this. Not with all this poop stuck to my anus.
Lonely night; no batteries for the Gemu Boi. ( ´ﾟωﾟ`)
put a face behind someone and suddenly they're terribly ugly.
Sick!
I liked that lamppost far more than the others. I shouldn't need to tell you why.
it's cold and i'm worried.
My life is ruined.
The Ghosts of You and MAAAAAAAAY! It's cold out here! I used to be a dead guy, DADADA now I'm a fucking JEDI! DADADA!
A crippling sense of inadequacy.
THE KEY TO JOY IS DISOBEDIENCE.
You'd better not disappoint me.
get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away get away leave leave leave leave leave leave leave leave
I would totally turn gay for Neil Cicierega.
So apparently, grandmothers aren't very good at telling if kids are high.
When time collapses, will I notice?
Touch me more!
Maybe if I mix these sauces, I'll make some sort of supersauce.
Homestuck - Light