AVAILABLE AT YOUR LOCAL BOOKSTORE About the Authors Blue Devil (real name withheld) is the pre-eminent philosopher of our time. His thoughts are scribed lovingly upon Tibetan prayer wheels and set into motion upon the rivers of Shangri-La, watched over by Shao-Lin priests. He is 30, unmarried (except under the "serial polygamy" laws of Utah), and will never die. Wired Child (real name withheld), an author, is 30, and unmarried. He is responsible for transcribing the brief "Team Devil" notes recorded after Blue Devil's disappearance. His death was foretold by Blue Devil in his seminal work _I Smell Like Teen Spirit_. -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Hello Folks, this is Simon Crack with KDWC, and the response to the latest opus from wC, _Et tu, Glenn_, has just been amazing! We were just recovering from the overwhelming response to the latest lawsuit threats, and now the station is overloaded again with thunderous accolades! We don't know how long we can handle all this traffic!" "That's right, Simon, it's incredible. Let me just read you a few of the responses..." --------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Gene, you're gonna fire me. I just know it." "Why?" "I didn't send that Et Tu thing straight to /Classic. You're gonna fire me, I just know it." "Yeah, you're right." "What?" "You're fired. Get outta here, and I mean now. And if I ever see you around here again, I am gonna take this wine glass holder and stick it in your holiest of holies." "But...but..." "And another thing. Get a haircut, you dang hippy! It's disgraceful, I can't tell if you're a boy or a girl. I can't even see your scalp in some places! You look like the Manson Family Christmas Special!" "But....but....ummm, Gene?" "Yeah?" "That was just kind of an ice-breaker, kind of me giving you the opportunity to tell me everything is okay. I didn't really think you were going to fire me." "Oh, okay. Carry on, then." ---------------------------------------------------------------------- I Dont Kno Why Evryone Is So Mad At ME i Mean Look at That Thing Wird Child Postud He Cant Even Spell Eight or Two Rite AND Besdis Wich He Kpet Doung That :[=) Thing Wich Isnt Any Kund of Wurd I No of And I Thnik He Was Alsso Riting Bad Stuff Abut Retards And If He Keps It Up I Am Gong To Call The FDA and MAYbe The IBM on Hym Becuz I Red These Gun Laws Nite Crawlur Posted And They Said He Kant Do That And He Dusnt Even No How To Capatilze The First Letur Of Each Word Like God Nintended All Wight Peple To Do I dotn Even Think He Is Wight He Is Probably French Portugeez Or Somethinnng I Think Thoz French Protugeez Need Specal Keybords Or Somethinnng He Probably Has a Cleft Palat Becase He Is Disremnatiatnremanianatitaing Against Me And I will Take Action Belive You Me I will Ill Bet Autox Wold Really Freek If Some Guys Frum The NFL Shoed Up At His Door and Man They Wuld Do Some Legal Stuf ON Him And Ill Bet they Wold Be Waring Sunglasses And All That And Whoo is This Blu Devil Guy Anyway I dont Believe Mor Than Haf that Stuf And Its Not Rite That I hav A lurning Disabilty And Cannot Rite Cool Stuf Like That Wird Child Shold Rite Stuff For Me So Things Wold Be Fair Then And if He Dosnt I will Take Action ---------------------------------------------------------------------- "Well that's all well and good but I am smarter than wC because I got an adjusted 19,710 on my SATs for my age and he only learned to read when he was 3, whereas my Mom could feel me correcting her spelling in Morse Code by kicking against the walls of her womb. If I had a Jolt Cola, I'll be I could write something like that. Anybody seen my ring?" "Well, I got an adjusted 47 Million on My SATs right before I won the National Snotty Kids College Bowl World Bionic Championships by writing a program that found the best way to sort stuff on networks to make Mutants scripts work better. Next I am going to write a program that destroys God. That should get me on the FRONT page of the Demozette." "Well, I got an adjusted 1x10^55 on my SATs, which is 10 times the number of Protons it would take to fill the entire known universe, right before I took the Geek of the Year Trophy by winning the Hemi-Galactic Odyssey of the Mind. We were asked to extrapolate the entropic heat-death of the universe and prove it by creating our own pocket dimension and running it through its entire cycle of existence using nothing more than three toothpicks, a wad of gum, and some belly-button lint. I won because I didn't have to use the gum." -------------------------------------------------------------------- "(distorted voice) That was wicked." "Ruuuullllllllllly wicked. That faxed hosed Ed." ------------------------------------------------------------------- "I liked the post, but it didn't show me anything new philosophically. I basically had covered all that stuff by grade school. I suppose its nice and all that he is so creative, but it really doesn't have any bearing on Academia, which is of course what life is all about. I would have said something earlier but it would just have been misunderstood and besides that jerk Blackthorne would just have used it as a handle to get at me again" "Uh oh, he found out where I live." ---------------------------------------------------------------------- *blink* *giggle* *obscene gesture of possible Italian origin* "wC is SO CUTE." *bemused expression of feigned piety* *sacreligeous motion of defiance and sarcastic pity over man's inhumanity to man* *sudden and uncontrolled flatulence* "Oh, CRUDDLES! That was wC! Backspace! Backspace! All engines full reverse! Let's see, what was backspace again, Control H or Control G? Oh, it must be G...." ---------------------------------------------------------------------- Hey Wild Child, you don't know anything and beside you aren't in the cool club and no one likes you. Just give it up, and beside which, [15 lines of paraphrasing the last ten ORIGINAL posts deleted], and I should know. And what if every monster in the Monster Manual, Monster Manual II, Fiend Folio, every back-issue of dragon except the one with those new Golems, I didn't like them, and the Eldritch Wizardy Supplement were all thrown on top of you from a Graf Zeppelin before you could kick my butt? ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Hey, this is Macbeth, and wC can blow m~@$ NO CARRIER ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ah, another pathetic drooling from the noted lamer wC. It would have been cool if he had bothered to imbed a virus in it, which by the way I know how to do (did I mention I am smarter and more hip than anyone else on here, or in this inbred state for that matter?) and would explain except that it would be too arcane and technical for any of you lamers to understand. Did I already say that everyone is lame? Lame lame lame lame lame. Lame. And stuff. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Ha I Fold You all I relly Liked That Post and I wz Just Kiding It was My April Fools Jok and Yu All Man I got You I didnt Relly Call the FDA or the CBS I was Only Joking Relly and This has Nothing To do With the For Guys Who showd UP at My Front Door this Morning and beet Me within an Inch of my Pathetic Worthless Jive-Talking Life I promise It was just a Big Joke and Man I got ZYZou guyS Ha ha ha. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- I was too busy reading my latest pamphlet from DHS, "So you've gone and ruined your life", to read wC's latest. But I'm sure it was good. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- I didn't like it because wC didn't mention me. He never mentions me. And I'm almost as big as him, and a better dancer besides. I tap my 44 mountains with Mana Flare out and play all four Forks, wheel of Fortune, and drop a googol point fireball on him. Nyah. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I didn't read that Et Tu thing because I was working so hard at the Post Office. Overtime, will it never end? And the bugs, crawling in and out of my ears. All I did was steal from him in that D&D game, just once, and I can feel him looking at me whenever he is online, the heat of his stare, the foul wind in his hair, the creaking upon the stairs, it's not my fault! Its okay, though, I made 600 bucks this week and thats just enough for the AK and the bullets and I am pretty sure that will be enough to stop the voices. Its nothing personal. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ Um, would now be a bad time to ask about the Tradewars Reset again? ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Hey, why did everyone stop talking about me? Did I mention that my Mutant Thief is Googolplex level now? And I did it all while devoting 16 hours a day to my demanding job teaching fingerless people how to use the Internet. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I think the source of all of this is that wC wants a doggie. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ hi everybudy I want to make an alliance with all the othur races expceially the blu devls and the double usies but I cant find them in my RACES.NM why not? No wate I want to make a pact with everyon or whativer it is when you kill all of them and you win thats what I want to do and I dont want non of them flying templs. i have a ship called the USS Et Tu Glenn, I made up the name myself. can anyone give me som tips on what i shuld do to beat you a this gmae/? ------------------------------------------------------------------------ "You're gonna fire me, Gene. I just know it." "Didn't we cover this already?" "Oh, yeah. Oh, man. You're really gonna fire me now." "Go suspend Macbeth again, it always makes you feel better." ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Calling all Skinheads! please write PO Box 666, LR, ARK, 72205 and include a self-addressed envelope so we can mail you your cyanide tablet. if you can't write, call 375-5504 and give us directions to your house and let us know if you have any neighbors that are bothered by loud noises. Trust us, it's better this way. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ This is a poem I wrote for my friend Lemond about my feelings when he and I broke up when I was reading Et Tu, Glenn: You broke up with me When I was reading Et Tu Glenn I just can't see Why you broke up with me then Now I have to find a soulmate again I am so sensitive I cant even grin I chafe easily and its hard to hold this pen but I have to try because I had this dream I was covered in maraschino cherries and cream and you were a tiger walking a balance beam and you said "Et Tu, Glenn" with a sadistic gleam And you shaved your initials on the side of my spleen why, oh why, oh why oh why oh why cant I cant I cant I cant I cant I ever touch you I mean in a spiritual way, not a prison way or a biker bar way or a drunk on jim beam way or a don't memorize my license plate way or an all-boys summer choir camp way or a seminary way please stay, please stay, please stay ----------------------------------------------------------------------- "I hate it when people hang themselves." - wC "It's not proper for people to quote themselves." - wC wC dammit doesn't anyone care about applied intelligence anymore? wC and why does e.e. cummings always possess me right after I type wC? wC and thoreau and emerson were butt buddies wC what if i just kicked your butt? wC s/-/ut up ----------------------------------------------------------------------- "All certainty is generally illusion, and repose is not the destiny of man. And that story kicked some major butt." - Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. "Okay, you live for now, retard." - Bob ------------------------------------------------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Okay, for everyone who has read this far, you get a Secret Surprise! E-mail reply to Blue Devil, and I will send you your Surprise. If I told you what it was, it wouldn't be a surprise, though. But I'll give you a hint: Carmel is not technically a city. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Jesus wept. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- [mean, telling digs at Dagarth and Babydoll deleted because they are both starting to get tender and sensitive and I don't want to interfere with that process. It's kind of like watching butter melt.] --------------------------------------------------------------------------- A man hides in the far hills and plays slow soft melodies. Nothing more is asked of him. Until he does to the final sleep. That is a peace greatly to be desired. Why can't they hear the message? do any of them really listen? I struck out again, and let them fend for themselves. And when She sensed our movement, because there were four of us, unauthorized, moving at random, She sent the nightmares on their night flight, like bats that see in the dark, and they fell upon us. And I did not stay to help them. In the chaos I escaped, went into the ground and hid. I tried not to think about the sounds the children made. And finally there was silence. - Harlan Ellison, explaining his thoughts on the lack of response to _Et Tu Glenn_, or maybe just introducing his book _Stalking the Nightmare_, take your pick. ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I didn't feel threatened. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- "I'm gonna sleep late tomorrow, and do NUTHIN." - CJ -------------------------------------------------------------------------- Carl did not waste any time. With three quick punches, he broke the man's sternum, jaw, and nose in succession. As his attacker staggered back he fractured both kneecaps with measured sidekicks from his left foot, then dropped that foot to the ground as his right came around in a vicious spin heel kick that knocked the now-unconscious man's head sideways as if he had been hanged. There was no blood, he had at least that much control from his Shaolin upbringing even with the drugs his captors had used to try to break his will still coursing through his system. The man fell. Carl fled. As he moved silently into the night with the fleetness of a panther, he noticed a small manuscript, forgotten by all, fluttering next to a rusted dumpster. He picked up the tattered pages and began reading by the dim light of the gibbous moon as he made his way westward. The name of the work was _Et Tu, Glenn_. Carl smiled. ------------------------------------------------------------------------- Your own excerpt could appear here! Send your excerpt, along with 180,000 credits, to Blue Devil on this BBS and he will personally edit this post and place your words within! Live through him! Become immortalized within his prose! Let your friends think you, too, have a quick wit and active creativity! F*** hos dead! And best of all, it's absolutely FREE! Well, except for the credits part. --------------------------------------------------------------------------- Maria carried a rifle. Maria carried a dog on her back. That dog is hit again. That sloooooow dog is hit again with his see-through skin. The kind of skin you can see through. He shot again. He shot agin. He shot a-a-a-a-a-a-he shot again. He shot again. He shot a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a -------------------------------------------------------------------------- "Rick, I'm not speaking to you as an editor. I'm speaking to you as a friend. Put it to bed. It's over."