An analogy is like a spongy tortoise on a blazing anthill in 11 dimensions, with ice cream
Welcome to Sponge.
Sponge: An Ecosystem
Within the cavernous pores
Tiny creatures creep therein
Creating order or waging wars
As suits their crazy whim
Chaos heralds their arrival
As they seek new niches to fit
Depending on Sponge for survival
Eager for every new bit
Sponge tolerates these guests
The API never stops
It will ignore the internal pests
As long as they don’t set up shops
Another retelling of a dubious historical event from Yggdrasyl server
No names are named in this nameless tale of greed and destruction.
Chocolate Mountain
Phenomenal Transformations
Enabled by editing tools
Should not be taken lightly
Nor left in the hands of fools
Once upon a server tragic
A Mod selected a Mountain
Then with a little plugin magic
Made Cocoa Pods beyond Countin’
Then the Server crashed, no myth
“Cleanup in aisle 4, poppet”
I thought I’d be happier with
A million tons of Chocolate
A modest business proposal for exploiting an as-yet unharnessed source of renewable power
What Energy Crisis?
Why do the undead burn in the sun?
What does this property earn us?
Unlimited solar power, for one
If we could fit them in a Furnace
I present my somewhat mediocre tribute to our Great Poet.
In harnessing the remarkable new energy source of the undead, our engineers made a startling new discovery. Reports of highly mutagenic FLARD dotted across the countryside are wholly unrelated, yet beneficial.
An Ode to Mass Defect
Why do the undead appear?
When the Sun is no longer near.
Is their apparent flammability,
Due to some form of Solar radioactivity?
Perhaps they are signing off with a flare,
Before they depart to some far-flung lair.
To meet with ghosts of Creepers.
Who get there by process of E=MC^2!
Samhain is my favourite season. Let the Day of the Dead begin!
Something Spongy This Way Comes
Wicked fires burn in the night
Burning brains of Jack-o-Lanterns
Walking Bones all bleached white
Marching out from gloomy caverns
Dead men wander hungry for brains
As lightning cracks in the sky
With Slender man, take great pains
Never to look in his eye
Gates to Hell are open tonight!
The dead souls wander the world
Fiery slimes cause fear and fright
As Ghast fireballs are hurled
The ominous woods resonate
With howling from a red-eyed dog
Witches laugh and curse your fate
Then turn you into a frog
Quoted directly from another thread, your daily Sponge poem. Totally Flard Free (Flard is Free!)
Re-Posted here for the fossil record.
Considerable Consternation about the State of Sponge has apparently eventuated in a Heavy Metal Song
Sponge needs Flesh
At the beginning, the winds in darkness
Endless black plain, one step above void
Wizards in circle, striving to harness
Raw power of creation, to be employed
Within a Golem, dead and heartless
A cauldron where stolen power is alloyed
Doomed seraph remains arise to the call
Sacred empty vessel of a fallen past age
Dry bare bones, need flesh to crawl
Virtual sinew from a Thaumaturge Mage
Swelling from spellcraft under the caul
Spongiform folds of the cerebral stage
Slowly it grows, festering in shadows
Fed scraps and leftovers by passers by
Who can imagine the secrets it knows
Until the warlocks gestating is nigh
When the black egg hatches to expose
Spreading dark wings as it takes to the sky
Nostalgia reminds me of yesterday, when I was thinking of last Thursday, when I considered what I was doing three weeks before, dreaming of the future. Did I miss it?
Not Forgotten
A long time ago in a world lost in time
There were towering Eucalypts
Glowing coral and SCUBA-kits
A host of other random bits
Modded beta Minecraft shown at it’s prime
None of his trees are left feast your eyes on
Nor water-shaders psychedelic
Vanished in a puff of Logic
Yet Coral Mod remains, a relic
Thanks Nandonalt for stretching the horizon
May the great bird of happiness lay a big steaming egg in your hat. ~ FLARD proverb
Sponge Coalmine Blues
Someone tell me why
There’s a Canary in my coalmine
I know it wants to fly
I heard it through the grapevine
I will set it free
Let it sing sweet songs of freedom
Will it return to me
Trapped inside this spongy dungeon?
Haiku time. Meaning I ran out of words, forgot to pay the meter…
Space/Time
Space is expanding
Does this also imply that
Time is expanding?
A modest proposal for the imminent Sponge Wiki. I humbly offer my Bardic capacities
Wiki with a Beat
The Wiki is coming, Hurrah!
Teaching of Sponge most bizarre
Don’t let it be terse
Have it written in verse
Then the memory will cling like a scar
Congratulations sir, you are now the official translator for the Bardic Language on the Sponge Wiki. I look forward to your far more eloquent rephrasing of subjects which would otherwise be reduced to layman’s terms.
There is iPod, iPad, iCloud, … so here is some iChing. Silly Symbols a Sponge Specialty.
Sponge iPath
Descending the sacred mountain alone
☰ Clouds and mist obscure the path
☳ Lightning strikes the tallest stone
☴ Hyperboreal winds swell with wrath
☵ Floodwater forces the downhill rush
☷ Arriving on formerly tilled soil
☲ Lanterns light tinder and brush
The Sponge cauldron can finally boil
Arrrrr, Sea Shanties. I had one once, but a strong wind blew it over
Bottle O’ Sponge
There’s 8500 lines of code in the Sponge
Only 8500 lines of code
Developing developer overload
They want 20,00 lines of the code
There’s 60,000 lines of code in the Bukkit
From a plethora of commits
If one developer gets the shits
Then its a Bukkit of broken bits
There’s 2.5 billion in Mojang’s IP
2.5 billion reasons to drool
If suddenly Minecraft is no longer cool
The Buyer will feel like a fool
It seems the latest trend in the Bukkit community is for unscrupulous developers to try to get malicious plugins into Bukkit-Dev “as proof of concept” … This one is for them
Jerk-in-a-Box
Make pop-up Plugins of dubious heritage
Encapsulating exploits in fancy plumage
Sneak it into the queue
Jump for joy when your malice is approved
Post greatness on Reddit, your ego soothed
Next, the army of Me Too
The Bus arrived at the intergalactic way-point and two strange fellows disembarked.
“Which way is Sponge?”, the furry blue one asked innocently as he floated by the stop.
“Up” declared his tall red comrade, profoundly.
Onward to Magrathea
This distillation of creative talents
Mad Science and Technology
Breeding virtual Biology
Is worthy of an eloquent defence
What can Sponge offer to trump Spigot?
Forge modding integration
More flexible implementation
Wisdom that only a fresh start can bring it
What will Sponge lack in comparison?
A standalone implementation
Maturity and optimisation
A vast library of plugins ready to run
So if and when either is arisen
Thank the devs for their trouble
With luck that will be a double
Enjoy the infinite worlds that we are given
One of the things that got me hooked on MC was the Music. I’m a great fan of eclectic electronica.
Here is an explanation of why I love music. A psychedelic nod to Dave Brock and Edgar Froese
Sympathetic Magic
Music is a strange mutating language
Motions of muscles generating vibrations
Subtle sympathetic droning of overtones
Drawing our thoughts into harmony
We express our differences in a medium of sound
No literal translations, every meaning is fluid
Unfamiliar patterns are analysed
Free from the shackles of dialectic
There is no math to evaluate symphony
Nor understand our love, hate or indifference
To the arrangements of sounds we encounter
Vibrations penetrate our deepest thoughts
Leading us on a merry dance to seek
The unknown music that permeates the cosmos
Dwelling in fragments as part of us
This is why I am a musician
Yet more tales of olde servers. This time, Celeano and it’s glorious Beta bugginess
Many many many thanks to Worm for years of reliable, level-headed Mod/Admin service
The Flying House Incidents
There once was a mod, call him Worm
Who served an illustrious term
His housing disasters
Were memorable masters
As this story will shortly confirm
Movecraft was rather indiscriminate
Few restrictions and no real limit
So he flew his home higher
Forgetting the Fire
Which thereforth decided to trim it
The next flying home traveled far
He fell off, respawned, ta-da
It was lost to his eyes
It’s no real surprise
If you don’t make a note where you are
Number three went on search with success
Then became fused with #2 in a mess
Back home they flew
But little he knew
That Lightning strikes couldn’t care less
Any excuse to use Latin is a good one. Hail, Caesar Porifera! Veni, Vidi, Volo in Domum Redire
The IDes of November
Shadowed goings on abound
API commits profound
High Programmers have found their Quorum
Beware of vile Treachery
So that we should never see
A blood soaked Sponge in the Forum