LMNO-PI

[Eldora, Oracle of Alchemy]

Oh ye Gods,

a haiku battle....

::dies laughing::

I fixed the spacing
for you and I can hardly
wait to see what's next

[Horab Fibslager]

Oh ye Gods,

a haiku battle....

::dies laughing::

I fixed the spacing
for you and I can hardly
wait to see what's next

the most raunchy tripe of a cliche in all my 4 days as a anti esteemist crtici!
-10stars outta ten!

[Mangrove]

fantastic....it's like 8-Mile with geeks.

[agent compassion]

.it's like 8-Mile with geeks.

::rises from the dead,
sees Mang's quip and falls down dead
again, holy crap::

[Mangrove]

.it's like 8-Mile with geeks.

::rises from the dead,
sees Mang's quip and falls down dead
again, holy crap::

<revives AC by waving freshly ground espresso under her nose>

oh yeah...it's that strong.

[agent compassion]

Phew....thank gods you used the stuff I make the fnords with, Mang, otherwise I mighta been dead forever...

[LMNO]

The historical tradition of Haiku Battle dates back to when the intelligentsia were blacklisted by Government, inc.  Over-educated and under-employed, grad students, MENSA candidates (the society itself was outlawed and driven underground in '07), and previously tenured professors fell through the cracks; and like any marginalized and underprivileged social group, soon tribalized and turned rogue.  In the beginning, they were still unaccustomed to violence, and settled on spontaneous haiku to work out any confrontations.  Several years toughened them up, however, and now the haiku were merely preambles to savage beatings, and occasionally death.  Paul was their current leader, and a fairly sharp poet.  I was going to have to play this one carefully.

The crowd traditionally called out the topics.  I sized them up, trying to see what disciplines they were leaning toward.  I soon found out:  "Irrational Numbers!" a scrawny kid with glasses shouted out.  Paul cleared his throat, and began:

"An endless number,
Square root of negative one.
Math is for the birds."

The crowd murmured appreciatively.  Well, at least they chose an easy one to start with, I thought.  I said:

"They do not exist
Except inside our own minds.
Magic, to be sure."

Silence.  Then a brutish thug of a Classics professor wielding a bat stepped up, and calmly swung hard into Paul's shoulder.  Paul didn't flinch, but you could see the rage in his eyes.  After all, he was used to this, and while I may have crossed paths with him once or twice, he did this for fun.  A young woman stepped forward.  "Mayflies," she uttered, and stepped back.  It was my turn to begin this time.  Mayflies?

"Pesky little beast.
More than one hand can deal with.
Where's the flyswatter?"

Guffaws erupted from the mob.  Shit.  A dread-locked English Lit grad student shouted, "He ended with a preposition!  He ended with a preposition!"  Paul, with an evil grin, puffed his chest out, and said:

"It lives for one day.
An Eternity for them;
For us, a moment."

Ok, that was pretty good, I thought, as Paul grabbed the neck of a rum bottle and swung it at my head, catching me directly in the mouth.  My lip split wide open, blood splattering the faces of a few nearby Pure Math hoodlums, who giggled psychotically.  I felt a tooth loosen, and the room grew dim.  A moment later, the pain caught up with the trauma, and I found myself on the floor, with Paul's boot trying to make a soft spot in the back of my head.  It took a couple of Latin students to pull Paul off-- After all, there was one more haiku before the melee could really begin.  A delinquent Philosophy professor spoke up.  "The history of the Universe."  Paul was quick to speak up this time.  A total ringer.  What a crock.  Total set up, I thought groggily.

"There was a big bang.
Heat, and light, and life, and death.
We go to the void."

I was still down on one knee, and I could hear the cracking of knuckles as the crowd tensed up, ready to go to work.  My lip was essentially useless.  How could I even speak, let alone think of a decent haiku right now?  I just hope I can make it through the beating.  I tried to relax my mind and my body, preparing for the inevitable.  

I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, and a smell like the forest on an early October morning.  Erin stood next to me, squared her shoulders, and cried out:

"Chaos; then order.
We make all these things happen.
Order; then chaos."

A few gasps ricocheted through the crowd.  Paul stood, stunned.  "You... you can't substitute," he stammered, breaking form.  "That's not the rules."

"Bullshit," I said, getting to my feet, trying to speak through the blood and loose tissue.  "I know the rules as well as you.  Substitutes allowed if they're willing to take the punishment as well."

"Fuck you, Mr. LMNO.  You're not getting away from me."  Paul curled his hand up into a fist and walked forward.  "And the bitch is gonna get hers too, you better believe... Urk," Paul stopped, and looked down at the sword that just sprouted from his chest.  With a blur, the sword disappeared, leaving a bloody hole.  In an instant, Paul's right arm dropped to the floor.  Screaming, Paul wheeled around, just as the sword ripped through his stomach, spilling his intestines onto the floor at the feet of a tall man with a cigarette dangling from his mouth.  He looked around at the crowd.

"yuo knwo teh ruels.  L geos free.  Adn I buy ihm a drnik."

I stared.  "Horab?  What are you doing with these freaks?"

"Latre.  Let's get taht faec of yuors fixde."

[Cain]

I'm so dead in the future, I suck at haikus....

[LMNO]

Better start practicing...

::points to haiku thread::

[Cain]

Practice goes against everything I stand for.

[LMNO]

It's ok, you can sit down.  I'm not picky...

[Cain]

It's ok, you can sit down.  I'm not picky...

Good, my knees were starting to hurt.  Never try a reverse turning jumping kick without a warmup....  

[LMNO]

Hell, I wouldn't try it even with a warm up.

[Cain]

Hell, I wouldn't try it even with a warm up.

I wanted to see if I could still do it.  As I turned into the jump I remembered I could never do it.  And now I remember why I decided to never do it again.

[agent compassion]

And now horab's in there too...