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How to Prepare for your Hoax
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<blockquote data-quote="StarLord" data-source="post: 14126" data-attributes="member: 44"><p><strong>How to Prepare for your Hoax</strong></p><p></p><p>/Passes the dented canteen with the special markings, *wink*wink (the bottom the cup seems to be missing for some reason) and tosses another log on the fire..</p><p></p><p>What's that? The French you say? Hmmm.. (taking another sip after the canteen is passed back grimacing, if I didn't know better I swear this was hootch from torpedos...naw could't be, where would the first shirt get ahold of a torpedo this far from the Sub Base....) faint reminiscents of the Bard flit by</p><p></p><p>"If we are mark'd to die, we are enow</p><p>To do our country loss; and if to live,</p><p>The fewer men, the greater share of honour.</p><p>God's will! I pray thee, wish not one manmore.</p><p></p><p>By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,</p><p>Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;</p><p>It yearns me not if men my garments wear;</p><p>Such outward things dwell not in my desires.</p><p>But if it be a sin to covet honour,</p><p>I am the most offending soul alive.</p><p>No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.</p><p>God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour</p><p>As one man more methinks would share from me</p><p>For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more!</p><p></p><p>Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host,</p><p>That he which hath no stomach to this fight,</p><p>Let him depart; his passport shall be made,</p><p>And crowns for convoy put into his purse;</p><p>We would not die in that man's company</p><p>That fears his fellowship to die with us.</p><p>This day is call'd the feast of Crispian.</p><p>He that outlives this day, and comes safe home,</p><p>Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,</p><p>And rouse him at the name of Crispian.</p><p>He that shall live this day, and see old age,</p><p>Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,</p><p>And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.'</p><p>Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,</p><p>And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'</p><p>Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,</p><p>But he'll remember, with advantages,</p><p>What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,</p><p>Familiar in his mouth as household words-</p><p>Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,</p><p>Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester-</p><p>Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red.</p><p>This story shall the good man teach his son;</p><p>And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,</p><p>From this day to the ending of the world,</p><p>But we in it shall be remembered-</p><p>We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;</p><p>For he to-day that sheds his blood with me</p><p>Shall be my brother'be he ne'er so vile,</p><p>This day shall gentle his condition;</p><p>And gentlemen in England now-a-bed</p><p>Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,</p><p>And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks</p><p>That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day.</p><p></p><p> Shakespeare, King Henry V</p><p></p><p>/echoes of tankards clanking arouse me from my sudden absence</p><p>and I wonder just how many times we have all rested behind bulwarks such as these, awaiting dawn, each face and eyes we see, known from before, as the sky awakens and dawn slowly ebbs, it comes to me, </p><p>Same sky, different eyes.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="StarLord, post: 14126, member: 44"] [b]How to Prepare for your Hoax[/b] /Passes the dented canteen with the special markings, *wink*wink (the bottom the cup seems to be missing for some reason) and tosses another log on the fire.. What's that? The French you say? Hmmm.. (taking another sip after the canteen is passed back grimacing, if I didn't know better I swear this was hootch from torpedos...naw could't be, where would the first shirt get ahold of a torpedo this far from the Sub Base....) faint reminiscents of the Bard flit by "If we are mark'd to die, we are enow To do our country loss; and if to live, The fewer men, the greater share of honour. God's will! I pray thee, wish not one manmore. By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; It yearns me not if men my garments wear; Such outward things dwell not in my desires. But if it be a sin to covet honour, I am the most offending soul alive. No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England. God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour As one man more methinks would share from me For the best hope I have. O, do not wish one more! Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland, through my host, That he which hath no stomach to this fight, Let him depart; his passport shall be made, And crowns for convoy put into his purse; We would not die in that man's company That fears his fellowship to die with us. This day is call'd the feast of Crispian. He that outlives this day, and comes safe home, Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd, And rouse him at the name of Crispian. He that shall live this day, and see old age, Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours, And say 'To-morrow is Saint Crispian.' Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars, And say 'These wounds I had on Crispian's day.' Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot, But he'll remember, with advantages, What feats he did that day. Then shall our names, Familiar in his mouth as household words- Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter, Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester- Be in their flowing cups freshly rememb'red. This story shall the good man teach his son; And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by, From this day to the ending of the world, But we in it shall be remembered- We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; For he to-day that sheds his blood with me Shall be my brother'be he ne'er so vile, This day shall gentle his condition; And gentlemen in England now-a-bed Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here, And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day. Shakespeare, King Henry V /echoes of tankards clanking arouse me from my sudden absence and I wonder just how many times we have all rested behind bulwarks such as these, awaiting dawn, each face and eyes we see, known from before, as the sky awakens and dawn slowly ebbs, it comes to me, Same sky, different eyes. [/QUOTE]
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