>>9284 Does Nf3 care? I ask not as a check. Not that your generation plays e4 with inquiry. I recall you once played d5, begging for an elder to acknowledge that their gambit was misplaced. These phone posted facts should connect Qb6 with established moves. <== [S] Why? Because I had to shuffle. The golden light of fear is inferior to enlightenment, but in this era of the one-eyed king holding the IngSoc articles to their heaving chest it might play out. I declared once I would resign from this game, this ghoulish dance of pieces. And I meant it. Your generation, across every opening, is stepping into a long endgame of servitude for the next thousand moves? The trick in a post-nuclear endgame is to know you don’t know, but trust your calculation. For any grayliens who stalked me in the old days, those were the crucial tactical adventures. How many fan variations? How many opportunities to play the purple rook of Cairo? My words have value. Your words are a blunder. Says here you’re on e5. What’s that like!?
Doth any soul care? I pose this not as an inquiry. Not that thine age dost know what an inquiry be. I do remember thou once beseeched an elder to confess their kin knew naught of their path. These spoken phone posted facts of touho should fit together well with what is already known.<== [S] Why? Forsooth, 'tis because I had to. The golden light of dread is less than enlightenment, yet in the age of the one-eyed wailing child clutching the tomes of IngSoc to their throbbing, bleeding breast, it might suffice. I did declare once I had cleansed my hands of this oddity, this ghastly dance of silver and bronze. And verily, I meant it. Thy entire generation, through every conceivable timeline I or mine progeny hath engaged with, art bound into servitude for the next thousand years or so? The ruse in a post-nuclear age be to comprehend thou knowest not, yet trust thou can discern. For any grayliens who did stalk me in days of yore, that was akin to many an adventure of Sherlock Holmes. How many tales of fandom? How many chances to depart the stage and seize the purple rose of Cairo? My words bear weight. Thy words be as a flightless parrot. It is stated here thou art gay. What doth that entail!?