the rest.
Verse 2: A Time to Learn
And the blood of MacDweebs spillethed mightily unto the arena,
and the little bits and pieces of airplane wings and manifolds and
leather flying helmets rainethed down on the flat green lands of
Air Warrior, and the Horsemen laughed in booming voices that
rippled the very waters of the pond.
And lo, one day the arena didst rumble mightily, and all the
MacDweebs aimed their steeds at the ground in preparation of
augering to escape the Horsemen, when suddenly the great
Horsemen Fool speaketh, for he hath seldom spoke before, and
was known to chooseeth his words carefully, as if he had to give
up livestock with every word.
Sayeth Fool: "Fear not, young MacDweebs, for with your sacrifice
cometh wisdom, for with thy clubbing shall you learneth the
principles of Divine Energy Management, Sacred Squadron
Tactics, the Epiphany of Situational Awareness, and yes, possibly
even the Sacrament of the Rope-a-Dope."
And thus the MacDweebs were introduced to the arcane
principles of air combat, and verily did they begin to watch their
E, and to climb to great heights, and learneth they to swoop
down mightily from the sky onto unsuspecting dweeblets such as
they once were. And thus, it is written (here), that the
MacDweebs began to groweth as virtual pilots. And the
Voss-God smilethed down on them from the monitor where he
watched them flounder. And it was good.
Verse 3: Cometh the NakedClowndevil
Lo, amidst the carnage and general mayhem that constituteth
the netbeta arena cameth a newcomer who repeatedly fraggeth
his countrymen, disrupteth arena play, and elicitith much cursing
and ill will. "Why doth thou disrupteth arena play?" cried out the
MacDweebs. The newcomer laughed, and taunted: "I am the
Naked Clown" he proclaimeth, and to the masses didst he
become known as the Clowndevil.
And there was much wringing of hands, and tearing of hair, and
many a voice was heardeth crying, "Where art thou Air Warrior
Gods when we needeth them?" Hearing not from the Air Warrior
Gods, and sicketh of the fratricide from the Clowndevil, rogue
groups of MacDweebs grabbethed the bull by the horns (nay, not
the Horseman Bull discussed earlier, for verily, if some MacDweeb
were to grab THAT Bull by his horns the MacDweeb wouldst find
himself void of limbs, lying naked in a corner and full of bullet
holes), and formed Clownkiller squadrons, whose sole purpose
was to tracketh down thy Clowndevil and smite him from the
arena. And this they did, for many nights and many days. But lo,
the Clowndevil was clever indeed, and mockethed thy
MacDweebs, and rubbethed their noses in their shame, by
posting to the netbeta newsgroup, and promoting his evil ways
in a web page. "Voss-Yoda, surely thou willst cometh to our aid,
and smiteth the Clowndevil with thoust Holy Big Bwana Stick!"
(no you sick bastages -not THAT stick).
And thus, MacDweebs waited, and checketh the newsgroups
often for some harbinger of words from the Voss-Gods, and one
day, smoketh didst arise from the newsgroup, and the beloved
Voss-Yoda did say: "Henceforth, worryeth not about the
clowndevil, thy MacDweebs, for thy Air Warrior God's smile upon
you this day, and have nukethed the Clowdevil's account, for
once, and for all time". And the MacDweebs smileth, for they
knew that the Clowndevil had been smitten. And it WAS good.
Verse 4: The Face of Evil
And all was fine in the netbeta, for there were ample numbers in
the arena, and the seals were fresh and plentiful, and the
demi-Gods didst verily consumeth the MacDweebs with vigor.
Then, one day, smoke didst riseth from the openbeta
newsgroup, and a great rumbling could be heard throughout the
land. The Voss-Yoda, working on instructions from the nefarious
suited OverLords of Kesmai, in a fit of madness still not
completely undertoodeth by the MacDweebs to this day, did
invoketh the Master Plan and taketh away thy beloved netbeta
venue, and substituteth in its place a new home wheretofore
MacDweebs could congregate, and could slaughter their
brethren, and could wreaketh mayhem upon the Dweebs.
The Voss-God didst give to the MacDweebs a new God to
worship: the AOL God. And it was not good. For now the
Voss-Yoda told the MacDweebs they musteth pay homage and
sacrifice to thou AOL God, and give up farm animals to partaketh
of thy holy air warrior. The MacDweebs didst know that the
AOL-God's minion TOS-God was mighty and did striketh down
MacDweebs for the slghtest of trangressions. "Voss-Yoda," cried
the MacDweebs, "Why doth thou torture us in this way?" And the
Voss-Yoda was silent, for the AOL God had invoked an evil spell
called a nondisclosure agreement and slappethed it on the
Voss-Yodaas part of the Master Plan.
And the Voss-Yoda shrugged his shoulders in sadness, and he
readied the MacDweebs for The Day When the Plug Was Pulled
on the Netbeta (TDWTPWPOTN).
Verse 5: The Day When the Plug Was Pulled on the Netbeta
(TDWTPWPOTN)
And lo, the Last Days of the netbeta were filled with Gloom and
Despair. The MacDweebs didst flounder around, and didst cry in
wail to one another, and didst generally curse the AOL God for
taking away what once had been.
And when the Final Day, The Day When the Plug Was Pulled on
the Netbeta, when the Hated Day arrived, the MacDweebs did
come out to express their gratitude, and to smiteth one another
one last time, and to fly together one last time away from the
penetrating gaze of the AOL God. And they were Legion, filling
the sky for miles to see, and making the Kerman God tremble at
the effort of tracking all those planes.
And the moment neared, and the Voss-God appeared. He
gathered his flock unto the center of the pond, and the sworn
enemies gathered together with nary a shot fired, and he began
to speak to them, dweebs and demi-gods alike, careful to not
breaketh the Evil AOL God's nondisclosure spell. "Verily," sayeth
the Voss-God, "Ye have been given the task of finding the bugs
in this world. Ye have been asked only to swat and smack these
bugs, and to helpeth the Gods of Kesmai ready this product for
final release, but hark! Ye have gone far beyond that minor
goal!" And the MacDweebs, circling the pond in their varied
steeds, glancing out their cockpit windows to see the
tremendous gathering of Warriors, listened to the Voss-Yoda as
he spaketh onward. "Yes," sayeth the Voss-Yoda, "Ye have gone
beyond being mere bug-finders. Somehow, ye all have created a
CommunityTM in this time together!"
And the cheers went up, and the MacDweebs rejoiced, and they
generally chased each other around the sky in glee. But the
Voss-Yoda was somber, and he didst looketh at his watch, and
he saw that the time dreweth near. And he told the MacDweebs
that the End was Nigh, and that the plug would soon be pulled.
And verily, atop the chatter and cursing and speaking in
toungues came one voice that didst rise above the fray.
And Padre, a Warrior with the Shadow Rider Clan, didst begin to
pray for the lost souls of the MacDweebs. And many an eye grew
damp as Padre prayed, and many a Warrior stared reflectively
through the gunsight and thanked the Kerman God for the time
he hath given to the MacDweebs. And after the prayer the
MacDweebs headed north, away from the sun, and flew onward
as the Plug was Pulled and silence fell across the netbeta
forever. And it was not good at all. In fact, it really kind of sucked
big-time.
Verse 6: Cometh the Warbirds
Antichrist Whole squadrons did thumb their noses at AOL and
Kesmai Gods, and they didst screameth and whineth in protest
at the selling of the MacDweeb's souls. They posted messages in
the forums, and the newsgroups, and on the walls of local
urinals. They screamethed at the AOL God, who merely laughed
and chuckled and ignored the MacDweebs' pleas as he counted
his stacks and piles and wheelbarrows full of money.
And few were the MacDweebs who flew in the AOL God's
domain, especially after the AOL God decided to placeth a tax
upon the MacDweebs of $2 per hour. And the MacDweebs didst
wail, and looketh did they for alternatives to the AOL God's land,
and many of them found a land where Warriors gathered. It was
called The Land of the IMOL God, and its minions were known as
Warbirders. "Lo!," cried the first MacDweebs to return from the
Warbirders Realm. "We have found a land of fruit and honey,
with many Warriors, and more planes and separate firing
cannons!"
The Four Horsemen bounded forth, and spaketh to the returning
MacDweebs. "But what about the nose bounce," they sayeth.
"Real steeds don't bounceth like that. And the spins, and the
blackouteth code. Ha!" the scoffed. "That is no subsitute for Air
Warrior." And many stayed in the AOL God's land to be mauled
by the Horsemen, and many left to the Realm of the Warbirders.
And the MacDweebs who left travelled lost in the darkness. The
IMOL Gods had decreed that the MacDweebs who wished to fly
in the Realm of the Warbirders must wait, for lo, the Divine 2.0
version of Warbirds was going to be late for the MacDweebs. For
two weekdays and for two weeknights and four score more
weeks the Macdweebs didst wander lost in the desert without
WB2.0 while the PCDweebs played and fought in their Demonic
Zerstoerer Me-110s and Hurricanes from Hell. And verily was
there much hand-wringing and calling of names, and the
Macdweebs floundered in the flat, non-moving and non-rolling
seas of Air Warrior.
And finally, when the Day of Judgement came, Macdweebs by the
drove scourethed forth to the Holy FTP Directory and
downloadeth WB2.0, and they were Legion. And it was Good.
Well...maybe not good, but it was a start.
Verse 7: And the Dweebs Played On....
And despite the Exodus of many to the Warbirders Realm, many
MacDweebs returnethed to their Native Land; to the AOL God's
Kingdom, and flew there they did, and smiteth one another they
did. And lo, the Horsemen still dove and rent dweebs asunder in
staggering numbers, and the demi-Gods did fight, and the
dweebs did auger and crash. And many new dweebs discovered
the relaxed realism world, and there they made a home. And
new dweebs would arrive almost daily, and sometimes the
dweebs would venture into the kingdom of the Horsemen, into
the full realism arena. And in some of those times, verily it would
seem like the days of yore; the Horsemen would swoop, the
dweebs would wail in despair, and you almost could heareth the
Voss-Yoda cackling at what he hath wrought.
And in those times, at least, it is good. Amen.
