Mr Zoat
Dedicated ragequitter
- Joined
- Dec 1, 2016
- Messages
- 16,236
- Likes received
- 832,798
I think it's like 'flammable' and 'inflammable'.
Follow along with the video below to see how to install our site as a web app on your home screen.
Note: This feature may not be available in some browsers.
I think it's like 'flammable' and 'inflammable'.
That may be true (I have no idea), but I am pretty sure John would say 'vested'.
I don't think this is really fair. JFK did think that he had an afterlife arranged, in the Silver City (though he probably would have gone to Hell), but then for whatever reason he got dumped in this place instead (which is probably still better than Hell, come to think of it).
It's not that Orange Lanterns are vulnerable to Blue Light.Not really. Orange lanterns as a whole aren't really especially vulnerable or resistant to blue light compared to other lanterns. Larfleeze on the other hand IS because he's an emotional wreck who mainlined orange light and part of him hopes one day to be free of it.
As a rule Blues are better at messing with Reds and Yellows, however there's always a level of variation due to individual, culture, and species differences, like how Tamaranians deal with orange light so well on average.
I just had an idea is Demon-Constantine's plan to turn himself into a weird love elemental, but because he's such a screwed up person (Him being a demon and all) he somehow calls/summons the Predator the elemental embodiment of love.
Think Paul's point is that Kennedy didn't ensure where he was going the way Paul did. Paul has had direct chats, and when he ended up in the Silver City instead he had another chat with Hades about that. Paul has it in verbal contract, if not in writing, and also has clones and such ready.
...I guess the closest thing Kennedy could have done was get the Pope to make sure there was a 'this man is 100% going to the Pearly Gates'. Which iirc is theologically iffy on getting done, but I don't know enough about Catholicism to say if the Pope can go 'you are tots going to heaven' in the 60's.
(Though IIRC if JFK had said the Lord's Prayer and asked for forgiveness for his sins recently enough before he died, anything bad he did would have been forgiven and he would have gone to heaven? Sorry, I am but a Quaker whose knowledge of the complexities of other Christian theologies is a bit poor.)
Disagree. I grew up in Massachusetts and JFK dropped his R's more than literally anyone I knew there. He's a prototypical Boston accent.The slightly nasal tone doesn't impact the phonetics, and Kennedy's voice didn't emphasize the non-rhotic nature of his accent very strongly.
MOTHERFUCKER!It took an embarrassing amount of time for me to realize that JFK was the John in Dear John this episode, you cheeky man.
Oh, I'm not saying he didn't. He definitely did. But it wasn't as exaggerated as... say, for example, Harley Quinn, whose drawl is cartoonishly strong.Disagree. I grew up in Massachusetts and JFK dropped his R's more than literally anyone I knew there. He's a prototypical Boston accent.
"In theory, though I don't think it's ever been done. Is everyone wearing their wards?" Three nods, and I use my ring to check the area for listening devices before ensuring that no sound will leave the immediate area. "There's no fundamental reason why a ring couldn't be made to channel all seven."
Onik's face falls slightly.
"All seven? So you could switch between them?"
"No."
Dul frowns. "All at once? How could someone combine-?"
"No."
Xalitan nods. "Self. You would not use each of the colours. You would use what they share. Manifesting the self in the universe. The self of you. The self of all."
Also, sorta cool to think about how Joy works. I remember people complaing about Nommo Balewa being a bit too affected for an Enlightened human in the Naziverse, but Paul's theory on the White Light makes it seems very normal for someone who's expressing his sense of Self individually and collectively constantly; He cannot act to change things even when he should, because he values the self image of every human there to do anything against their collective 'will
It's not a matter of asking for forgiveness, it's a matter of repenting. Genuinely regretting what you have done, and in the case of Catholicism stating that to a priest.(Though IIRC if JFK had said the Lord's Prayer and asked for forgiveness for his sins recently enough before he died, anything bad he did would have been forgiven and he would have gone to heaven? Sorry, I am but a Quaker whose knowledge of the complexities of other Christian theologies is a bit poor.)
Now? Yes, idealised.Mr Zoat Since this JFK is the idealized version of the American psyche does he look just like the late JFK? Is this one taller/more handsome/buffer or since we have a clear image of what JFK looked like that's the only way he's imagined?
I don't think this is really fair. JFK did think that he had an afterlife arranged, in the Silver City (though he probably would have gone to Hell), but then for whatever reason he got dumped in this place instead (which is probably still better than Hell, come to think of it).
That should say 'sons'."I felt… Like a thousand of America's son were asking me why I threw their lives away."
Of course Paul would call it that. I want to see him say that out loud in front of cameras and in the company of his friends, who would most likely be facepalming.I rise back into the air, trying to keep what appears to be the statue of a giant phallus between me and where The Brass fired its chain from. Looking closer, I see something moving across the upper portions of its armour…
That's an easy way to get rid of his conceptual protection. I also want to see Alan do something clever like this, especially if Paul will be struggling against 'Bad Sam'."You want the football?"
"The football is rightfully mine."
"Then you can-." The holoprojectors get into position and activate, and suddenly The Brass is wearing the uniform of a Soviet Lieutenant. "What the hell is this?"
Of course Paul would call it that. I want to see him say that out loud in front of cameras and in the company of his friends, who would most likely be facepalming.
"Lazy, boy. Lazy." He stands, brick dust puffing of him as he pats himself down. "And since you're here in mah place of power, ah will have to give y'all a hidin' for it."
Conceptual space. Distance means nothing here. If they don't want you to see the defences guarding their gates against The Enemy, then you won't. Hardly matters, when they're right in front of you.7th November 2012
Roughly 10:55 GMT -5
Cannons. Big cannons. Battleship cannons, Second World War era, no longer in use. Can't see a loading mechanism, magic. Robot has… A face that would probably mean something to someone who knew more about the minutia of American military history than me.
Odd that I can't see the wall from inside-. Right.
Does it count as gross insubordination or treason, given that he's shooting at his nominal commander-in-chief?Kennedy raises his right hand in what I think is meant to be a placatory gesture. "This is not-."
KABOOM!
Well, this is going completely wrong, right from the start.Guns fire and we frantically evade, Alan creating a shield to project Kennedy. Some of the fusillade slams into the invisible wall behind us, momentarily disrupting the image of… Hah, the idyllic landscape visible from here that certainly doesn't actually exist out there. Some shrapnel from fused explosives hits my construct shield, causing cracks-.
"Avarice!" Something bangs, and a second later there's a iron chain wrapped around my construct shield. "Just what we need! And hope! Do you know how many hopes I've sent to die?"
Dirty pool. This is going to be a total puzzle boss, isn't it?The chains glow orange-. They're sucking the light out of my con-!
I drop as the construct fails, the chains above me clanging into each other and then leaping back towards their master.
Good thing he doesn't rely solely on his ring for flight. Still, going airborne is going to be risky given their firepower."Paul?!"
I land on the road, take a few staggered steps-. Ring, charge?
And no doubt The Brass is hungry for more, more, more.One hundred and twenty three percent remaining.
"Uninjured, reporting energy draining chains. You?"
That's a lot of charge in one hit. Luckily they don't seem to be able to throw it back at him.What did I lose?
Twenty seven percent maximum charge of one ring.
Ouch. Now that's a nasty way to break someone's sense of hope.That's not sustainable.
"I felt… Like a thousand of America's sons were asking me why I threw their lives away."
Should be super-effective, between his being American and their collective hopefulness."It's The Brass, a manifestation of the worst of America's officer corps. I'd guess that he saw the same thing, but didn't feel guilty about it. Can you still make constructs?"
"Kennedy and the eagle are giving me a pep talk."
Riggers, eh? Now I'm picturing it being like an ugly male version of a shipgirl."Good show. Guns seem to be slow firing."
I rise back into the air, trying to keep what appears to be the statue of a giant phallus between me and where The Brass fired its chain from. Looking closer, I see something moving across the upper portions of its armour…
That'll probably just make it mad.The worms. The worms are carrying the ammunition to reload its guns.
"What do you think, fly up to it and flick them off?"
Sadly, it isn't as concerned about collateral damage as you have to be..."While I'm struggling to think of killing corrupt worms as something that would worsen the American political process, it's still mind control."
"The old one-two?"
Alan certainly seems to be the sort not to rest on his laurels."I think we need something less literal. Weaken it under its own rules, then get it to stand down." The worms are squirming away from the guns now. "Ultimately, it's a distraction."
"Alright, but I've been working on this for a while."
Oh, that's just cheating, now. Or, for a more appropriate quote: 'Not enough gun.'A giant blue guns forms in the sky to my right, positively inviting the guns The Brass trains on it to fire. But Alan fires first, the beam lancing out and striking-.
Striking an invisible force field around The Brass. And I know this is going to be a painful metaphor, but I can't-.
Maybe Alan needs to bust out something more American. Giant Colt 1911s, maybe?"The Veil of Legitimacy! So long as I wear the uniform, I'm untouchable by your un-American weapons!"
There it is-.
The Brass: "I love the smell of Napalm in the morning!"Guns-
KABOOM!
-into action and I'm moving as the two shots pointed my way fly past what's probably a very nice monument of some sort in the real world and detonate around me, shards of magical shrapnel slamming into my construct shields. They hold, but they take a battering and I'm already moving to try to avoid a possible chain-.
What, going to try painting it pink or something? You know? Ruin its ego by making it a literal pinko?The chain wraps around the monument and emasculates it.
"Got any paint?"
Oooh, clever. I doubt the rest of the defences would turn their guns on it, but it might give it pause.
...Mind out of the gutter..."Can't say I-. Did that thing just wreck the Washington Monument?"
"Probably. Cover me?"
"As long as it's not in paint."
...Motherfucking badass. Makes sense that he feels no fear."It's not worth my time to winkle you out." The Brass reaches down to somewhere I can't see, then straightens back up with a… Giant rugby ball with a radioactive symbol on the side. He pulls his right arm back, ready to throw. "Time to use strategic weapons!"
"I am not President Truman, and you are not General Groves." I fly upwards, and spot Kennedy strolling towards The Brass in the open, eagle flying along with him and the vulture lurking off to the side. "The authority to unleash this great nation's nuclear arsenal belongs to the president alone. You do not have the right to use the nuclear football."
Bring on the lightshow! Don't forget the moustache!Sounds like an opening. I fly around The Brass's right while his attention is focused on Kennedy, fabricating-. Would a hologram projector be easier? Yes, I can't guarantee that paint would get through. Drones, stealth drones with holoprojectors.
Fabrication complete.
Amusing. It runs on an extension cord.Okay, that should deal with the Veil of Legitimacy. How do I stop the worms handing resources to The Brass that would be better applied elsewhere? Actually, The Brass hasn't walked anywhere since we arrived. What fuels The Brass?
Gain a little height, and… Looks like there are cables plugged into his lower legs, running to somewhere… The same place the worms are coming from, underneath… A twisted version of the Lincoln Memorial. Clearly there's something there, but I'm sure there will be other defences in place that I can't see.
Oh, he's going to just throw the bomb without arming it, isn't he? Still a few tons of metal, after all, and Kennedy is still more-or-less flesh.
Ha! Not only a turncoat, but he got a demotion too."The football is rightfully mine."
"Then you can-." The holoprojectors get into position and activate, and suddenly The Brass is wearing the uniform of a Soviet Lieutenant. "What the hell is this?"
Well, about time we got to meet this jackass.Alan fires again, his shot tearing through The Brass's armour and sending the giant guns on its left shoulder plummeting to the ground. And while that's happening I fire out titanium chains, wrapping up the worms around the Memorial in something they can't just melt their way through-.
"Not too shabby, boy."
Oh, boy... Maybe you guys should have gone after the real Sam first, maybe?The stone figure sitting on the seat mimes clapping. They're… A slightly wrong version of-.
"Bad Sam."
"Lazy, boy. Lazy." He stands, brick dust puffing of him as he pats himself down. "And since you're here in mah place of power, ah will have to give y'all a hidin' for it."
The red scare. Might as well use one american problem to beat another. When in doubt call your opponent a communist.Then you can-." The holoprojectors get into position and activate, and suddenly The Brass is wearing the uniform of a Soviet Lieutenant. "What the hell is this?"
"Mistah Orange Lantern, teah dawhn this wahll!"Saying something like that is just asking Paul to summon a steamroller that conceptualizes America tearing down a Wall of Oppression to build the Freeway to Freedom.
How do I stop the worms handing resources to The Brass that would be better applied elsewhere?
I'm a bit surprised there isn't any evident manifestation of the lizard men conspiracy theory (which I believe is also anti-Semitic?) but I suppose there's still time for that.
Thank you, corrected.
No, it's not just an insult. The version here is literally a phallus.Of course Paul would call it that. I want to see him say that out loud in front of cameras and in the company of his friends, who would most likely be facepalming.
Thank you, corrected.
Well done.Hmm, I seem to remember that during the Civil War, Sam was split into two different beings that fought each other, so maybe Bad Sam was his Confederate self.
Yep, the Heartland feels like American Arcadia.I love conceptual shit like this. This is what A Practical Guide is all about.