The Old Coot has finally made it back home.

All thanks goes to Shantih. He made sure I would find my way. Hopefully I don't get lost again. lmao I get so preoccupied with health and life in general that I would lose my head if it wasn't attached. lol It's great to back.

It's good to have you back OldCoot!


By the way I'm Shantih/Gloomseeker/Carabas.

... I actually thought OP was of a Hindu religion, and expressed thanks to a deity!

I do not believe we've ever met, OldCoot, so hello to you.

Carabas wrote:

It's good to have you back OldCoot!

By the way I'm Shantih/Gloomseeker/Carabas.

Thanks my old friend. Been far too long. I see we are missing a few others like Nakia and Jez. Maybe you can bring them home also.

Nauthiz wrote:

... I actually thought OP was of a Hindu religion, and expressed thanks to a deity!

I do not believe we've ever met, OldCoot, so hello to you.

A Hindu? lol Namaste, Nauthiz. Thank you.

Nakia is still here but Jez has left us a while back.

Nauthiz wrote:

... I actually thought OP was of a Hindu religion, and expressed thanks to a deity!

I do not believe we've ever met, OldCoot, so hello to you.

According to TS Eliot it's "the peace that passeth understanding" (that's why I borrowed the spelling from his poem The Waste Land).

I totally get that OldCoot's phrase would lead you to think that he is into Vedic prayers and the Upanishads.

Yes, I've noticed the different spelling and thought of how the poem ended (I wonder what exactly was it that made Hieronymo mad againe, but oh well ), yet somehow I reasoned that it might have been some sort of divine personification of said peace, or a periphrasis for Shiva - I've heard some modern practicioners use it when they did not want to invoke the deity's true name; I know not why, as the farthest East my interests ventured was Angra Mainyu, but that's another story.

Quote :

Namaste, Nauthiz.

I would respond in kind, yet I hear talk of strange things that happen to white women that speak the word too often: you know - yoga, Starbucks latte, and tumblr. The horror of horrors.

" Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
Sweat is dry and feet are in the sand
If there were only water amongst the rock
Dead mountain mouth of carious teeth that cannot spit
Here one can neither stand nor lie nor sit
There is not even silence in the mountains
But dry sterile thunder without rain
There is not even solitude in the mountains
But red sullen faces sneer and snarl
From doors of mudcracked houses"

I may have lost most of my mind. But, I disagree. I have found solitude AND solace in the mountains of Northern California. Wait. What were we discussing?

Nauthiz wrote:

Yes, I've noticed the different spelling and thought of how the poem ended (I wonder what exactly was it that made Hieronymo mad againe, but oh well ), yet somehow I reasoned that it might have been some sort of divine personification of said peace, or a periphrasis for Shiva - I've heard some modern practicioners use it when they did not want to invoke the deity's true name; I know not why, as the farthest East my interests ventured was Angra Mainyu, but that's another story.

Quote :

Namaste, Nauthiz.

I would respond in kind, yet I hear talk of strange things that happen to white women that speak the word too often: you know - yoga, Starbucks latte, and tumblr. The horror of horrors.

May you find truth in the Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino with double shots of espresso!

Quote :

I may have lost most of my mind. But, I disagree. I have found solitude AND solace in the mountains of Northern California. Wait. What were we discussing?

Hard to say, exactly; might be that my brain got too busy rattling out it's favourite passages from the said poem. There are many. In the end, I started muttering them aloud, but stopped myself before it got too weird. Oh wait. No. It was still weird.

Cannot say I've ever experienced a desert landscape, but ah! so many unreal cities, under the brown fog of a winter dawn. So many rhapsodies on so many windy nights!

Half-past one,
The street lamp sputtered,
The street lamp muttered,
The street lamp said, "Regard that woman
Who hesitates towards you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
You see the border of her dress
Is torn and stained with sand,
And you see the corner of her eye
Twists like a crooked pin.

Great, a singing redneck. Welp, the Saloon needed a bard so problem solved I guess

A singing redneck? *Looks around. Then points at himself* Me? I think you're a bit confused there. More like an Old Fart troubadour. I can belt them out and down shots of Jack almost at the same time.

Welcomeback OldCoot!



I'm one of these, but with purple hair

And you also have some damn superb writing abilities, Sue.

OldCoot wrote:

Half-past one,
The street lamp sputtered,
The street lamp muttered,
(...)

...aaand there I go, whispering to my screen again.

OldCoot wrote:

I can belt them out and down shots of Jack almost at the same time.

That's how it should be done! Well, at least with 'Carrickfergus'. Whenever I sing this in public and there is this slight pause after 'but I'll sing no more 'till I have a drink', a shot it is! One has to be true to their word, after all.

I've her from Nakia and she sends you her best, she's been having some problems with her eyesight unfortunately so she will post when she can. She's made a new friend (on Steam of all places) but she hasn't told me if she had extended an invitation to join our merry little band.

It's really good to have you back Old Coot, you've been away for so long I wasn't expecting to hear from you again. Like I said, good to have you back with us.

Good to see you again love

Trip wrote:

Good to see you again love

Thanks, doll. Good to be able to see. I mean look at you. Umm... Errr... Here's a pretty flower to... yeah... look at.

I don't believe we've met, Old Coot, but welcome back.

Haha, thanks dear