The idea of this thread is to take song lyrics, ditties, limmericks, jokes, fairy tales...and give them a Seti twist.

Pure fun only, please.

My first post is a bit satirical, but there's no targets, innuendoes, hidden agendas or anything else nasty about it. Good clean fun is my only thought. Honest!

I saw an article about Christmas songs, and it ocurred to me to Setify one.

I hope we'll hear from all you creative people out there!

Enjoy!

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Moddie Clause is Coming to Town!


You better watch out
You better not fight
You better not shout
I'm telling you why…
Moddie Claus is coming to town!


He's making a List,
He’s checking it twice;
He’s gonna find out who's naughty or nice.
Moddie Claus is coming to town.


He sees when you are lurking.
He knows when you're in hate.
He knows if you've been Bad or Good
So be Good for goodness sake!

With little tin horns and little toy guns
Rooty toot toots and rummy tum tums
Moddie Claus is coming to town.


He sees you when you're lurking
He knows when you're in hate
He knows if you've been Bad or Good
So be Good for goodness sake!


You better watch out
You better not fight
You better not whine
I'm telling you why…
Moddie Claus is coming,
Moddie Claus is coming,
Moddie Claus is going to town.

Moddie is a busy man,
He has no time to play
With millions of complaints to fill
And he hasn’t got all day!

So, you better watch out
You better not fight
You better not shout
I'm telling you why…
Moddie Claus is coming,
Moddie Claus is coming,
Moddie Claus is coming to town!

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Sympathy for the Misfit:


Please allow me to introduce Misfit, he’s a man of wealth and taste
He’s been around for a long, long year, stolen many a man's thread and face
He was around when Jesus Christ hit the internet with his faith
Made damn sure that Pilate washed his hands and sealed His fate

Pleased to meet you, hope you guess his name (oh yeah)
But what's puzzling you is the nature of his game (ah yeah)

He stuck around St. Setisburg when he saw it was a time for a change
Killed the Czar and his ministers, AnEstasia screamed in vain
He rode a tank, held a general's rank, when the threadwars raged and the bodies stank
He watched with glee while your kings and queens fought for 10 decades for the gods they made
He shouted out "Who killed the Anonymous’?" when after all it was you and me
Let me please introduce himself, he’s a man of wealth and taste
And he lay traps for Complainadours who get killed before they reach Bombay

Pleased to meet you, hope you guess his name (oh yeah)
But what's confusing you is just the nature of his game (yeah)

Just as every mod is a criminal and all the trollers saints
As heads is tails, don't call him Jennifer, 'cause he’s in need of some restraint

So if you meet him, have some courtesy, have some sympathy and some taste
Use all your well learned netiquette or he'll lay your role to waste, (Oh Yeah)

Get down, baby!

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Lovely!!!

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Founder of BOINC team Objectivists. Oh the humanity! Rational people crunching data!
I did NOT authorize this belly writing!

(Adapted from: Edgar Allan Poe, "The Raven," (1845) The Richmond Semi-Weekly Examiner, September 25, 1849.)

Originally posted in Rocky's Laughter Is the Best Medicine 2

The E.T.

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious bit of Wiki lore --
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my basement door --
"'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my basement door --
Only this and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak September;
And each separate PC chassis was in parts upon the floor.
Hope I might find proof tomorrow; -- vainly I had sought to borrow
From my search a cease of sorrow -- sorrow for the lost Lenore --
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the real world named Lenore --
Not found here for evermore.

And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each mismatched curtain
Thrilled me -- filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
"'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my basement door --
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my basement door; --
This it is and nothing more."

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my basement door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you " -- here I opened wide the door; ----
Darkness there and nothing more.

Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no human ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, "Lenore?"
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, "Lenore!" --
Merely this and nothing more.

Back into the basement turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "surely that is something in my Wintel chassis;
Let me see, then, what threat is, and this mystery explore --
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;--
'Tis the fan and nothing more!"

Open here I flung the cover, when, with many a fling and flutter,
Out there stepped a stately E.T. of the cheesy films of yore;
Not the least of greetings made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my basement door --
Perched upon a bust of Picard just above my basement door --
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.

Then this gray being beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though your head be bald or shaven, you," I said, "are sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient E.T. wandering from the Intel core --
Tell me what your lordly name is, for the Seti Message Board!"
Quoth the E.T. "Nevermore."

Much I marvelled this ungainly face to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning -- little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing such above his basement door --
Thing or beast upon the plastic bust above his basement door,
With such name as "Nevermore."

But the E.T., sitting lonely on the balding bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered -- not a muscle then he fluttered --
Till I scarcely more than muttered "No signal bore out before --
So I'll find that this is just noise, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the Gray said "Nevermore."

Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy press corps at some unlikely disaster
Seen on T.V. and beamed skyward till all news one message bore --
Till the dirges of Man's hopes that melancholy message bore
Of 'Never -- nevermore'."

But the E.T. still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of Gray, Jean Luc and door;
Then, upon the fabric sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous Gray of lore --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous Gray of lore
Meant in speaking "Nevermore."

This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the alien whose black eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's fabric lining that the tasklight gloated o'er,
But whose polyester lining with the tasklight gloating o'er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!

Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Moved by a girlfriend's foot-falls sprinkled on the concrete floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "your God has lent you -- Aricebo has sent you
Respite -- from Lenore who left me, from my memories of Lenore;
She did not understand Seti and she left right out my door!"
Quoth the E.T. "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil! -- prophet still, if real or signal! --
Whether purpose sent, or whether random came to our sensor,
Mass-produced yet all undaunted, on this Wintel box enchanted --
On this home computer haunted -- tell me truly, I implore --
Is there -- is there life out in space? -- tell me -- tell me, I implore!"
Quoth the E.T. "Nevermore."

"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil -- prophet still, if real or signal!
By the Heavens that stretch above us -- by that God we both adore --
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the nearing future,
I shall find the proof and signal that were scoffed at by Lenore --
Claim that all Seti work was sane and prove it to my Lenore."
Quoth the E.T. "Nevermore."

"Be that word our sign in parting, real or dream!" I shrieked, upstarting --
"Get you back into the night sky or the Seti Message Board!
Leave no record as a token of that lie your soul has spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
Take your peaks and triplets, and take your form from off my door!"
Quoth the E.T. "Nevermore."

And the E.T., never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the plastic bust of Picard just above my basement door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming,
And the tasklight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my social life or lack of that lies described on the 'Board
Shall be normal -- nevermore!

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No animals were harmed in the making of the above post... much.

Excellent!

Give the man a Cupie doll with tinfoil beanie.

Congratulations, Octo!

Well done!

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