a multiplayer game of parenting and civilization building
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Ozymandias
By Percy Bysshe Shelley
I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”
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Oh boy.
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Mending Wall
BY ROBERT FROST
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That sends the frozen-ground-swell under it,
And spills the upper boulders in the sun;
And makes gaps even two can pass abreast.
The work of hunters is another thing:
I have come after them and made repair
Where they have left not one stone on a stone,
But they would have the rabbit out of hiding,
To please the yelping dogs. The gaps I mean,
No one has seen them made or heard them made,
But at spring mending-time we find them there.
I let my neighbour know beyond the hill;
And on a day we meet to walk the line
And set the wall between us once again.
We keep the wall between us as we go.
To each the boulders that have fallen to each.
And some are loaves and some so nearly balls
We have to use a spell to make them balance:
"Stay where you are until our backs are turned!"
We wear our fingers rough with handling them.
Oh, just another kind of out-door game,
One on a side. It comes to little more:
There where it is we do not need the wall:
He is all pine and I am apple orchard.
My apple trees will never get across
And eat the cones under his pines, I tell him.
He only says, "Good fences make good neighbours."
Spring is the mischief in me, and I wonder
If I could put a notion in his head:
"Why do they make good neighbours? Isn't it
Where there are cows? But here there are no cows.
Before I built a wall I'd ask to know
What I was walling in or walling out,
And to whom I was like to give offence.
Something there is that doesn't love a wall,
That wants it down." I could say "Elves" to him,
But it's not elves exactly, and I'd rather
He said it for himself. I see him there
Bringing a stone grasped firmly by the top
In each hand, like an old-stone savage armed.
He moves in darkness as it seems to me,
Not of woods only and the shade of trees.
He will not go behind his father's saying,
And he likes having thought of it so well
He says again, "Good fences make good neighbours."
"be prepared and one person cant kill all city, if he can, then you deserve it" -pein
https://kazetsukai.github.io/onetech/#
https://onehouronelife.com/forums/viewtopic.php?id=1438
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And Death Shall Have No Dominion
by Dylan Thomas
And death shall have no dominion.
Dead men naked they shall be one
With the man in the wind and the west moon;
When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
Though they go mad they shall be sane,
Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
Though lovers be lost love shall not;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
Under the windings of the sea
They lying long shall not die windily;
Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
And the unicorn evils run them through;
Split all ends up they shan't crack;
And death shall have no dominion.
And death shall have no dominion.
No more may gulls cry at their ears
Or waves break loud on the seashores;
Where blew a flower may a flower no more
Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
Though they be mad and dead as nails,
Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
And death shall have no dominion.
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so are we going to get now sand & sculpture ?
sand to store carrots, as basic ingredient for glass,
sculpture to have finally something cultural to do & not just chore chore chore
btw, yesterday i played in a small settlement, there were kings & queens, they worked as every other “peasant”, it was a nice life, i died an old man
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That moment when you want to post a poem, but there's no English translation -_-
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I think the sculptor part means sculpting is planned, and that new stones will appear, plus a larger map. The poem might mean that. As Jason Rohrer wouldn't just put up a random poem for no reason right? Right?????
Last edited by Angel Carrillo (2018-05-07 21:33:26)
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An erotic poem
By anonymous
Leg so hot
Hot, hot leg
Leg so hot
You fry an egg
Nah, but seriously, Ozymandius is one of my favs, and I can definitely understand the link between that poem and this game; nothing is forever, no individual really matters.
Or on a less philosophical level, maybe it's a hint that a sign on an ancient wall is permanent.
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Or on a less philosophical level, maybe it's a hint that a sign on an ancient wall is permanent.
I don't mind if there are things that do not decay, but I think everything should be destroy/movabled. Ruins are only there because we let them stay that way.
"be prepared and one person cant kill all city, if he can, then you deserve it" -pein
https://kazetsukai.github.io/onetech/#
https://onehouronelife.com/forums/viewtopic.php?id=1438
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Unnamed Haiku
Some haiku are good
Some haiku just don't make sense
Refridgerator
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Unnamed Haiku
Some haiku are good
Some haiku just don't make sense
Refridgerator
Lol
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Originality, by Piet Hein
Original thought
is a straightforward process.
It's easy enough
when you know what to do.
You simply combine
in appropriate doses
the blatantly false
and the patently true.
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First read the Ozymandias poem a long time ago and have seen it crop up a few times in gaming context/circles.
I used to play an ios game called the infinite black (loved that game), the designer called himself Ozymandias.
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