Perhaps, this new start may be different.Īnyway, if you were formerly from Lothlorien BBS, or you were not, but are interested in discourses of a different nature, you are welcomed to join our little forum, our little community.īoth Wei Yi and Brian (Grand Admiral) are very well-informed. There were several previous sad and lame attempts at revival but they died prematurely. Now, Mister Darth Grievous has kindly restarted Lothlorien. Anyway, no one really cares about him now. He thought he had triumphed but he never did have the whole picture, living in his well and instead losing all his friends. The sad individual who wronged many and instigated this was left to his own devices. Most of the denizens of the place left and maintained their friendships, meeting in real life, organising many gaming and dinner events. Rivalries abound through petty politics After a few years, through the efforts of one silly and petty individual, Lothlorien soon fell in flames. People came and went and there were some interesting discourses. This new forum, hosted by the odd Mister Marc Tan (aka Celeborn, Elrond, Well-Preserved Elf) who started it for not so obvious reasons, had a theme based on the forest kingdom of the elves in the Lord of the Rings. It arose from the migration of people from another, Sheikinah Rivendell which was governed by a self-righteous Morgan de Tyrant. The Lothlorien BBS* was one such forum where I made many friends. It was a community of door games, forums and more. Once upon a time, in 1993-1996, we had an online community involving 1200-28800 baud modems. He could easily be writing lyrics for a Front Line Assembly album or other industrial/ebm albums. We find ourselves derelict and naked in the beginnings of the end. Now morality squandered, Ragnarök labours towards unforgiving, scarcely held back by the monoliths of glass and steel, cable and wire. The law of man becomes archaic, circumvented by the undeniable truth of the machine.įearing reprisal we built the power to deny the gods dominion of our souls. The dawn of a new age of religion the beauty of the baud fueling transformations. The once inert empire of mankind brought to its knees by the proliferation of an unstoppable technocratic manifest. Translucent bits betraying prophetic visions of ominous proverbs yet to come. Transmissions received over the conscious lines display the crux of our future. Mister Paradox is a friend on DuneMUD and he is a scribe of impossible visions: As Mister Paradox proclaimed his Technocratic Manifest, the world trembles for he has arrived.
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