Soon I'll be askin' "What's the best way to practice...." (n/t)

Soon I'll be askin' "What's the best way to practice...." (n/t):
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Posted by Drinks with Evil. on October 13, 2000 at 01:05:57:

In Reply to: *falls out of his chair laughing* (n/t) posted by [Boogy] on October 12, 2000 at 18:55:50:

(I understand n/t, I just use it indifferently)

Of course at this rate it'll be 2005 and Proud Blade, The Arcane, and Nepenthe will have dispensed every iota of individualized wisdom which will have been compiled and misinterpreted by the SOZ (Sons of Zepachu) a few hundred times.

One can hope though, that by the time Bladerunner (That classic?) fades from the old-school sci-fi film student list, that Zepachu will have created a new character, Imm'd, been disgraced and denied a few times, and Imm'd again (learning from the process). Granted, the him of 2000 probably wouldn't think so, but the me of 1994 didn't think he'd be posting this.

I leave the present with this thought:

They are fools that think that wealth or women or strong drink or even drugs can buy the most in effort out of the soul of a man. These things offer pale pleasures compared to that which is greatest of them all, that task which demands from him more than his utmost strength, that absorbs him, bone and sinew and brain and hope and fear and dreams -- and still calls for more.

They are fools that think otherwise. No great effort was ever bought. No painting, no music, no poem, no cathedral in stone, no church, no state was ever raised into being for payment of any kind. No parthenon, no Thermopylae was ever built or fought for pay or glory; no Bukhara sacked, or China ground beneath Mongol heel, for loot or power alone. The payment for doing these things was itself the doing of them.
To wield onself -- to use oneself as a tool in one's own hand -- and so to make or break that which no one else can build or ruin -- THAT is the greatest pleasure known to man! To one who has felt the chisel in his hand and set free the angel prisoned in the marble block, or to one who has felt sword in hand and set homeless the soul that a moment before
lived in the body of his mortal enemy -- to those both come alike the taste of that rare food spread only for demons or for gods."

-- Gordon R. Dickson, "Soldier Ask Not"

Ya dig?

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Comments:	> (I understand n/t, I just use it indifferently) > Of course at this rate it'll be 2005 and Proud Blade, The Arcane, and Nepenthe will have dispensed every iota of individualized wisdom which will have been compiled and misinterpreted by the SOZ (Sons of Zepachu) a few hundred times. > One can hope though, that by the time Bladerunner (That classic?) fades from the old-school sci-fi film student list, that Zepachu will have created a new character, Imm'd, been disgraced and denied a few times, and Imm'd again (learning from the process). Granted, the him of 2000 probably wouldn't think so, but the me of 1994 didn't think he'd be posting this. > I leave the present with this thought: > They are fools that think that wealth or women or strong drink or even drugs can buy the most in effort out of the soul of a man. These things offer pale pleasures compared to that which is greatest of them all, that task which demands from him more than his utmost strength, that absorbs him, bone and sinew and brain and hope and fear and dreams -- and still calls for more. > They are fools that think otherwise. No great effort was ever bought. No painting, no music, no poem, no cathedral in stone, no church, no state was ever raised into being for payment of any kind. No parthenon, no Thermopylae was ever built or fought for pay or glory; no Bukhara sacked, or China ground beneath Mongol heel, for loot or power alone. The payment for doing these things was itself the doing of them. > To wield onself -- to use oneself as a tool in one's own hand -- and so to make or break that which no one else can build or ruin -- THAT is the greatest pleasure known to man! To one who has felt the chisel in his hand and set free the angel prisoned in the marble block, or to one who has felt sword in hand and set homeless the soul that a moment before > lived in the body of his mortal enemy -- to those both come alike the taste of that rare food spread only for demons or for gods." > -- Gordon R. Dickson, "Soldier Ask Not" > Ya dig?

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