AGEOD Forums

Some time ago, in France, so I've heard,
an engine was born t'was destined for fame,
which in turn gave birth to a series of games
that could charm the pants off any grognard.

The babe had two fathers, both named Phil,
and a number of others helped their family grow,
by forming the game company we all love and know,
though its correct pronunciation is unknown to me still.

Is it AGE-odd? Or AY-gee-odd? In any case, they're awesome,
so to the AGEOD team, Paradox France, three cheers!
And huzzah for the help of her many volunteers
who water the garden that flowers may blossom.

Let's rally 'round the flag, fellows, and bellow a battle cry:
"For victory, Athena!" wherever ye may lurk,
"Up with AGEOD! Down with pirates who steal their hard work!"
And "I'll be a gamer till the day that I die."

19th Century Fox

hey girl,
i know we only met just now,
but you look so familiar someho-ow,
which leads me to the inclination
to start believing in reincarnation!
(ya ya yea!)

havent we met before?
at a guillotine, 1789,
when being royalty became a crime,
and my crowned head was put on the line?
you were my one and only queen,
they said our wealth and power was obsce-ene,
but you took it all on the chin,
until the reign of terror did us in!
(ow ow oww!)

say girl,
i know its only our first date,
dont wanna come off like a fla-ake,
but damn, we have so much in common,
Bjork is awesome and we both like ramen!
(*sluuurp*)

havent we met before?
on a barricade, 1848,
you were waving the tricolor,
and bringing me food and water?
you were my hearts desire,
you only wanted to inspi-ire,
till a hail of musketfire killed you
in a reactionary counter-coup!
(bang bang bang!)

so girl,
we've been together for a while,
and you know i really dig your sty-yle,
but i think im ready for a change,
and your religious views are just too strange!
(chant chant chant!)

havent we met before?
in Petrograd, 1917,
we were both into the Bolshevik scene,
until Cheka and the NKVD
said we were counter-revolutionary?
you were my comrade in arms,
we both liked to collectivize fa-arms,
i'd go anywhere to be near ya,
even the gulag in Siberia!
(brrrrrrrr!)

oh girl,
i'm really sorry that things didn't work out,
but hey it's nothing to get worked up abo-out,
they say that all good things must come to an end,
and maybe someday we will meet again!
yea maybe someday we will meet again!
i hope that someday we will meet again!

Why, ah do declayuh! This girl believes that we have a poetic soul in our midst!

I like your stuff, John! Thanks for the creative effort, and thanks even more for your postings!

Thank you for your encouraging words, your majesty. I am indeed enamored with wordplay in its many variations. Here's another vaguely related poem

What I've Learned From History, Pt. 1

The only thing I know
is that I know nothing.
We all know next to nothing
about the last ten years
let alone the distant past.

History is a detective story,
of twisted plots, glib and gory.
Who got what? How much? And who got whom?
Who lived? Who died? And how many?
It's more guesswork than glory.

But it's my opinion that
the Neolithic Revolution
really messed us up as a species.
Under certain conditions we could
live happily as hunter gatherers,
if briefly and in stunted family trees -
but without any oppressive hierarchies,
no serfdom, no masters, no feudal levies,
just hunting, fishing, nuts and berries.

Then you throw farming into the mix:
food surpluses controlled by social elites;
specialization; sedentary populations
riddled with communicable diseases;
peasants bound from birth to do
whatever their master pleases.

Build me a wall!
And there are walls.

And all it takes is one guy
with nothing to do but look up at the sky;
he puts two and two together and, by god,
he can tell you when the Nile will flood.
He waits and watches so long, he can say
that the sun may vanish on this or that day,
and may not return, unless you act in this way,
and obey your elders, your priests, and your gods,
obey.

Build me a pyramid!
And there are pyramids.

Politics is about who gets what.
Property is nine tenths of the law.
But history is more than just past politics.
History is the memory of humanity, it belongs to us all.
We are historical actors! We are agents of change!
But so far the story has been one of control,
of one man owning another man as property,
of great men and vast impersonal forces,
intricate social structures supporting
the top of the pyramid.
History is about power:
haves and have-nots.
Those who have power
want you to have none, because
power corrupts. And absolute power
has the capacity to destroy human civilization.

Those in positions of power -
true power, mind you, not puppetry -
are generally not the sort of people
you'd want to see in those sorts of positions.
Power attracts a vicious circle of vampiric parasites,
born into their sickness, or groomed for it, or drawn to it,
who bid mankind domesticate itself for their profit,
and treat us little better than cattle -
graze the herd, cull the undesirables,
lead the lambs to slaughter,
sell the human chattel -
profit.

Napoleon was right,
history is a lie agreed upon,
written by the winners.

But history is more than just a tissue of lies,
some truths are self-evident to half-opened eyes.
History is a detective story,
of twisted plots, glib and gory.
Who got what? How much? And who got whom?
Who lived? Who died? And how many?
It's more guesswork than glory.

Yet embers of glory burn within us all.
Will tales of future generations tell
how we stood tall and demanded our liberty?
Or will history repeat ad nauseam our slavery?

King Cotton, Dred Scott, 'n
John Brown walk into a bar;
'tender says, "What'll it be?"
John a-moulders, "some'n stiffer,"
while Scott 'n Cotton beg to differ
on brown bodies,
or Brown's Body.

That last one is brilliant, my friend. My other favorite is the second one, 19th Century Fox. The only love poem for a revolutionary (except for the royalty part, which is reactionary I guess, but still nice).

Thanks, General! 19th Century Fox is actually a song, still working on the melody though.

I'll post a few more while I'm at it...

Ashes to ashes and dust to dust,
brick to marble to metal to rust.
The Senate and People of Rome will endure -
though they may sack the city, they can’t steal the sewer.

Missed Connection

I’m an aging Apollo class,
you’re a young buck from Bremen.
I never saw you, but I was told
you were spotted near Mexico,
so I was steaming south
spoiling for a fight.
We missed each other
by only one day
off Frisco Bay.

Maybe it was for the best.
I’ve got bigger guns, but
I’m short on shells, and
I could never keep up
with your speed
and superior skills.
But what I lack in training,
I make up for in enthusiasm,
and I can’t help but wonder
what might have been.

I know I’m obsolete,
and high maintenance.
I just want to see some action
before they sell me for scrap.

* * *

Written February 2013, about HMCS Rainbow’s first and last brush with danger on 30 August 1914, when she narrowly missed meeting SMS Leipzig in the Pacific.

PS - HMCS Rainbow is the best name for a warship ever.

Loin d'Indochine

Il te donne
le bénéfice
du doute. Ses bêtes
réparent les clôtures
du zoo. La charge
de caoutchouc.
Un Gaugin
volé, loin
de Polynésie.

Fumées -
il nous rend fou.
Saints du sixième siècle
sont perdus - il faut du fer
pour fabriquer des épées
milieu de vous.

Une soeur sourires,
ses inquiétudes sont couchés
dans un Cézanne
loin d’Indochine.

* * *

Written January 2014, inspired by Indochine starring Catherine Deneuve, Vincent Perez et Linh Dan Pham.

PS - I am not a native French speaker, I've been writing in French as practice. If anyone spots any errors do let me know.