NationStates

Despite having been unjustly ruled against multiple times this year I still find it in my heart, and in the hope this is not considered spam, to adapt an old Thomas Hardy poem to express my appreciation for your tireless work and we hope we're better in 2019..

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..lol.. no but seriously we're really going to try this time..

New Year's Eve

“I've finished another year," said Mod,
“With red text, smiles and frowns;
I’ve thrown DOS’d posters to the sod,
Sealed up some threads within the clod,
And flung some DEATs around."

"And what's the good of it?” we said.
"What reasons made you call
From formless void these boards we tread,
With nine-and-ninety opinions read
When nought should be at all?

"Yea, Mods; why shaped you us, ‘who in
This NS forum groan'—
If ever a joy be found herein,
Debates no poster hoped to win
T’was only in the tone!"

Then Mod: "My labours - done under stress -
You may contest; not I:
Judgement I’ve wrought, without a guess
I do not care for your endless
Request for reasons why.

"Strange that ephemeral posters who
By my own tolerance are,
Should find such bias in my views,
Use ethic tests I never knew,
Or made provision for!"

Mod sank to raptness as of yore,
And opening New Year's Day
Wove it by rote as theretofore,
And went on working evermore
In a Mods unweeting way.

Here's the original if curious.. and hopefully this serves as a space for posters to make at least one charitable nod of acknowledgement that you keep some semblance of order with only a few judicious bribe requests to stock the Mod Cave with 90% proof alcohol to get you by.

A hommage to the Mods.

POST AND PREJUDICE
by the same author of Mods and Movability

Chapter 1

It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single nation in possession of a region must be in want of a puppet.

However little known the feelings or views of such a nation may be on his first entering a thread, this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the surrounding regions, that he is considered the rightful property of some one or other of their puppets.

“My dear Mr. Bennettia_0123,” said his lady to him one day, “have you heard that Netherfield Region is resurrected at last?”

Mr. Bennettia_0123 replied that he had not.

“But it is,” returned she; “for Mrs. EmpireOfLonginia has just been here, and she told me all about it.”

Mr. Bennettia_0123 made no post.

“Do you not want to know who has taken it?” posted his wife impatiently.

“You want to tell me, and I have no objection to hearing it.”

This was invitation enough.

“Why, my dear, you must know, Mrs. EmpireOfLonginia says that Netherfield is resurrected by a young man of large fortune from the North of Pacific; that he came down on Monday in a chaise and four to see the place, and was so much delighted with it, that he agreed with Mr. Morri$ immediately; that he is to take possession before Michaelmas, and some of his puppets are to be in the region by the end of next week.”

“What is his name?”

“Republic_of_Bingleyton.”

“Is he married or single?”

“Oh! Single, my dear, to be sure! A single nation of large fortune; four or five thousand posts a-year. What a fine thing for our puppets!”

“How so? how can it affect them?"

“My dear Mr. Bennettia_0123,” replied his wife, “how can you be so tiresome! You must know that I am thinking of his inviting one of them in the region.”

“Is that his design in settling here?"

“Design! Nonsense, how can you post so! But it is very likely that he may fall in contradiction with one of them, and therefore you must point his error out to him as soon as he types."

"I see no occasion for that. You and the puppets may go, or you may send them by themselves, which perhaps will be still better, for as you are as skilled at fallacies as any of them, Mr. Republic_of_Bingleyton may like you the best of the party."

Bombadil, well done. *slips Bombadil a 'get out of jail free' card with coffee stains and dog-eared corners.

Risottia, you may stand behind that post with pride, though I must admit I possess some prejudice.

Happy New Year.

The house was ever silent. New Years had come but the foe was not gone. He lurked in the darkest corner seeking his time to ruin the most merry of time. This time he was the foot of a bed and his evil claws prepared to strike. But as he lifted up hos hand he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned around but not in time as the banhammer smashed into his skull sending him out of the window crashing into the silent lawn of the home. Dazed the troll tried to run but he dared too look back and want he saw terrified him. It was the bane. It was the monster that trolls went to sleep fearing. She was it. It was rep plod. He could barely scream as the hammer banished him from existence.

The child woke up and saw the blue sky’s of a new year and smiled.

Thank you mods for all your work

Happy New Year!
(Not that the Bears IC celebrate this until after the Spring Equinox, but anyhows...)

Any news about when the next 'Mod Olympics' will be held?

Happy New Year! (I have no clever poem, but I do have a box of kazoos).
*leaves box of kazoos*

It little profits that an idle mod,
By this still hearth, among these barren crags,
Match'd with an aged puppet, I mete and dole
Unequal laws unto a savage forum,
That hoards, and sleeps, and feeds, and knows not me.
I cannot rest from travel: I will drink
Life to the lees: All times I have enjoy'd
Greatly, have suffer'd greatly, both with those
That loved me, and alone, on shore, and when
Thro' scudding drifts the rainy Hyades
Vext the dim sea: I am become a name;
For always roaming with a hungry heart
Much have I seen and known; forums of interwebz
And manners, climates, councils, governments,
Myself not least, but honour'd of them all;
And drunk delight of battle with my peers,
Far on the ringing plains of windy RMBs.
I am a part of all that I have met;
Yet all experience is an arch wherethro'
Gleams that untravell'd world whose margin fades
For ever and forever when I move.
How dull it is to pause, to make an end,
To rust unburnish'd, not to shine in use!
As tho' to breathe were life! Life piled on life
Were all too little, and of one to me
Little remains: but every hour is saved
From that eternal silence, something more,
A bringer of new things; and vile it were
For some three suns to store and hoard myself,
And this gray spirit yearning in desire
To follow knowledge like a sinking star,
Beyond the utmost bound of human thought.

This is my site, mine own NSG,
To whom I leave the sceptre and the isle,—
Well-loved of me, discerning to fulfil
This labour, by slow prudence to make mild
A rugged people, and thro' soft degrees
Subdue them to the useful and the good.
Most blameless are those, centred in the sphere
Of common duties, decent not to fail
In offices of tenderness, who pay
Meet adoration to my household gods,
When I am gone. They works their work, I mine.

There lies the port; the vessel puffs her sail:
There gloom the dark, broad seas. My mariners,
Souls that have toil'd, and wrought, and thought with me—
That ever with a frolic welcome took
The thunder and the sunshine, and opposed
Free hearts, free foreheads—you and I are old;
Old age hath yet his honour and his toil;
Death closes all: but something ere the end,
Some work of noble note, may yet be done,
Not unbecoming men that strove with mods.
The lights begin to twinkle from the rocks:
The long day wanes: the slow moon climbs: the deep
Moans round with many voices. Come, my friends,
'T is not too late to seek a newer world.
Push off, and sitting well in order smite
The sounding furrows; for my purpose holds
To sail beyond the sunset, and the baths
Of all the western stars, until I die.
It may be that the gulfs will wash us down:
It may be we shall touch the Happy Forums,
And see the great Max, whom we knew.
Tho' much is taken, much abides; and tho'
We are not now that strength which in old days
Moved earth and heaven, that which we are, we are;
One equal temper of heroic hearts,
Made weak by time and fate, but strong in will
To strive, to seek, to find...

...and not to yield.

New Year's Eve and it's hard to believe
Another Zodiac's gone around
While you drank yourself high on hoping
And watched the ceiling spin from the ground

Counting down from ten it’s time
To make your annual prayer
"Secret Santa in the sky,
When will I get my share?"

Then you tell yourself
What you want to hear
'Cause you have to believe
This will be my year....

Happy new year, NS peeps. And yes, this WILL be my year. Hope it’s your year, too.

Happy 2019 to everyone here, and thank you Mods for keeping the forums spick and span on a daily basis.

I hope the meat (circuits?) of the dead Adbots, milk and cookies, and Valentine's Day chocolates are sufficient for you all?

Farnhamia wrote:

Serrus wrote:Happy New Year! (I have no clever poem, but I do have a box of kazoos).
*leaves box of kazoos*

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p9x8x9kFFGE

That one kid without a kazoo...

Thanks to the mods and all their hard work, the forums can go into 2019 in very good condition. Happy new year mods! Happy new year NS!

I've been on alot of websites over the years. The moderation team here is the best I've ever seen and it's not particularly close. Considering the highly charged political nature of this site's userbase and the general discussion forum in particular, it's especially impressive. With 0 exceptions every member comes across as extremely professional, intelligent, and fair every time I see them act in an offial capacity. Even if I might not agree on every single team decision this year (looking at you F&NI). It's all really just personal nitpicks, and the staff's conduct over the years is such that I respect them enough to think that it's possible my feeling could be wrong on even those things.

So here's to you guys (and gals) (and boats). Happy new year!

I don't have a poem, but I'm going to wish you all a happy new year.

Happy New Year to all you ... lovely people.

Thank you everyone, and Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to the Mods!

I know I was a pain in your ass,
As you were in mine,
But in the end we all made it through,
And that's what counts,
In this non-Haiku,
So here's to 2019,
May it see us thrive,
And jive, and jive, and jive...

(Firetruck it, I'm getting more Corona, ufff yesterday, was really fun though!)

Also, I had a good laugh when some of you guys were accused of working for Sputnik

Ehh. No poem, nothing fancy, but happy New Year. Thanks for dealing with the toxicity that is NSGH.