gistfile1.txt

You see an old man standing in front of you. His beard nearly touches the ground, which is impressive. He looks up with a lovely smile and beckons you over to his lap. How can you disagree?

"Well, this is a story all about how my life got flipped turned upside down and I'd like to take a minute (just sit right there), I'll tell you how we became the main characters of the internet," he says, his breath humid against your face. You smell something good. Surprise, it's wisdom.

Then he links you to this article which has the following to say on the matter:

Once upon a time there was a young man with a great destiny. We're going to start here, fyi. His name was, well, his name isn't important. Just kidding, his name was Hobs and he was the first in a line of heroes to bear the mark of his notable ancestor, Pepper "Turkicide" Barbarosa as he is called in Italian (which is a poor translation of the native Greek, Herakles "Turkinverter" XXXXX). As a result, he was a great man before he was even born and could lift weights if he wanted to but he doesn't. The fact of the matter is that this isn't important. Just kidding, it's very important! Because his burning heart would eventually lead the engines of his desire to the virtual realm, and a great quest that awaited him there.

Others too had heard the call, perhaps a frequency that only great-souled individuals could perceive, like some sort of majestic bird that can see through lies or a majestic bird that turns into a man in front of Aztecs that can see through other noises. Whatever the case, though boyish and all blonde, they would grow into such ones as are privy to the counsel of violent men, disregarding even sacred interests in lieu of their one aim. "But so mighty a form must trample down many an innocent flower--crush to pieces many an object in its path." Hegel said this about them, once. Whatever the case, it would become clear that these cheerful little cherubs would have to be economic with their emotions if they wanted to blossom into men. These little men were called cryosin, monsterparty, and MrJihad.

Eventually their paths would cross with much, much friction of various (various) kinds. This was after they had beaten puberty, for the most part, though some of these adorable masters were older and more battle-damaged than others. Though their journeys through the ether-realm of internet took different courses, and they acquired separate but intimate skills, from oration to husbandry of machines, their fates eventually converged on the prison colony of LWS. After several years marked by strife and mischief, and faggots, also marked by track marks, and also marked by attempts to found a Platonic republic on the internet, they went to war.