Anonjohn20
Pen holding member
- Joined
- Mar 22, 2023
- Messages
- 1,762
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- 153
Fair enough.
The Last to Comment Wins
- Thread starter mrsimple
- Start date
Justhetip...
...of the iceberg.
- Joined
- Sep 9, 2024
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- 249
- Points
- 78
Nah, I'd win.
Shiriru_B
Book binge in progress.
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2020
- Messages
- 356
- Points
- 133
Justhetip...
...of the iceberg.
- Joined
- Sep 9, 2024
- Messages
- 249
- Points
- 78
Ooh, vigorously.No I'd win!vigorously.
PS: Is this a sign to rewatch Mahou shoujo ni Akoragete?
Shiriru_B
Book binge in progress.
- Joined
- Nov 1, 2020
- Messages
- 356
- Points
- 133
I never watched it but in my opinion if your memory of the show is half baked then that's good enough to watch the show again
.
Tempokai
The Overworked One
- Joined
- Nov 16, 2021
- Messages
- 1,393
- Points
- 153
A Most Modest Proposal: Regarding the Efficient Utilization of the Nation’s Minecraft-Addled Youth
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a child in possession of a gaming console must be in want of a life. More specifically, a life that doesn’t revolve around pixelated blocks, the unrelenting pursuit of diamond ore, and the tyrannical task of building phallic towers of cobblestone in the name of architectural glory. Enter Minecraft: a game so addictive it makes heroin look like chamomile tea.
Now, as a society teetering ever so gracefully on the edge of societal collapse, we must ask ourselves: Why are these children allowed to squander their boundless energy and obsessive-compulsive tendencies on virtual mining when there are so many real rocks out there, buried in real mines, waiting to be dug up by sweaty, underpaid, and woefully underage hands?
I propose, with all due seriousness wrapped delicately in irony, that we take a long, hard look at the future workforce of this great nation: the Minecraft Generation. These children, these idle digital serfs, already spend upwards of twelve hours a day tunneling through pixelated terrain, hoarding virtual resources, and squealing in terror as Creepers obliterate their structurally unsound hovels. Clearly, these behaviors are a cry for vocational guidance. They are not playing; they are pleading—yearning, even—to be put to work in actual subterranean hellholes.
Let us give them what they so clearly desire.
The Proposal: Coal, Not Consoles
What I propose is simple, elegant, and ever-so-economical. We shall take every child who has demonstrated excessive affection toward Minecraft (defined scientifically as having built a scale replica of the Eiffel Tower, Hogwarts, or a Taco Bell in-game) and insert them directly into the workforce, specifically the mining industry. Not metaphorically. Not through internships or charming STEM camps. I mean physically. Helmets, pickaxes, and all.
“But narrator,” you may cry with the anguish of a thousand concerned PTA moms, “how dare you suggest such barbarity!”
To which I respond: how dare you waste such potential! These children have been training for this their entire lives. They understand resource management, tool durability, and how to navigate endless tunnels without the aid of a map or basic sunlight. They’re practically dwarves already—just with more backtalk and fewer beards.
Consider the benefits:
1. Economic Salvation: Why outsource labor when you’ve got a free workforce that not only wants to mine but will beg you for the chance to do so in 4K resolution with ray tracing enabled?
2. Physical Fitness: Instead of slouching in beanbag chairs shaped like oversized Cheetos, these kids will develop rock-hard calves and forearms that could strangle a bear. Obesity crisis? Solved. One boulder at a time.
3. Education, Reimagined: Why teach children geology in a sterile classroom when you could let them experience it firsthand, three miles underground, in a thrilling educational simulation known as “Real Life”? They’ll finally understand what obsidian really feels like when it crushes their foot.
4. Character Development: Nothing builds resilience like surviving a cave-in with nothing but a plastic lunchbox, a flashlight, and a vague recollection of Minecraft’s crafting table recipes.
Objections, Predictably Boring and Easily Dismissed
Some may argue, with the droning moral authority of a high school ethics teacher, that child labor is "inhumane," "unethical," or, my personal favorite, "illegal." These are the same people who let their children spend twenty hours a week hoarding iron ingots and naming pigs “Dinnerbone.” I ask: What’s more cruel—giving a child the satisfaction of actually earning that iron, or letting them wallow in digital delusion?
Besides, we’re not monsters. The children will be compensated. Not in money, of course—that would imply we’ve learned something from history—but in something far more valuable: achievement badges. Much like their beloved Xbox trophies, these badges will be awarded for such noble feats as “Extracted 1 Ton of Coal,” “Survived Tunnel Collapse,” and the ever-popular “Didn’t Cry for 6 Hours.” Perhaps they’ll even unlock a secret skin: the soot-covered, thousand-yard-stare “Veteran of Shaft 17” model.
Logistics, or How to Politely Kidnap Your Child for Economic Gain
Implementation is easy. Every child with more than 500 hours logged in Minecraft (and we all know that’s being conservative) will receive a government-issued pickaxe in the mail. A cheerful mining van—painted in charming blocky textures—will arrive to escort them to their new “Learning Experience Zones” deep in the Appalachians, Andes, or whatever third-world country is currently offering tax incentives for child-powered extraction.
Parents, of course, will be thrilled. Imagine the peace and quiet. The sheer serenity of a household where the only whining comes from the family dog and not a seven-year-old demanding Wi-Fi after a power outage. The kids get exercise, discipline, and real-world skills. The parents get wine and silence. It’s a win-win.
A Utopian Tomorrow, Fueled by Tiny Pickaxes
Imagine the future: Cities powered by child-mined coal, rare earth metals unearthed by preteens with a taste for digital glory, and a generation of youth that understands the true meaning of survival—not in some neon-lit, microtransaction-riddled battle royale, but in the inky black corridors of the human condition, armed with only a flashlight and a crushed Capri Sun.
Society would thank us. Future historians will write glowing tributes to the age of practical parenting and resourceful reuse of gaming addiction. Perhaps a statue will be erected in our honor—constructed, fittingly, out of stone blocks dug up by Timmy, age 9, from Shaft C.
In conclusion, let us no longer waste this precious resource: our Minecraft-addicted youth. Let us harvest their potential before their brains are fully developed and filled with dangerous thoughts like “critical thinking” and “college.” Let us forge a new path—straight down, into the earth—one block at a time.
Because if you mine it, they will come.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a child in possession of a gaming console must be in want of a life. More specifically, a life that doesn’t revolve around pixelated blocks, the unrelenting pursuit of diamond ore, and the tyrannical task of building phallic towers of cobblestone in the name of architectural glory. Enter Minecraft: a game so addictive it makes heroin look like chamomile tea.
Now, as a society teetering ever so gracefully on the edge of societal collapse, we must ask ourselves: Why are these children allowed to squander their boundless energy and obsessive-compulsive tendencies on virtual mining when there are so many real rocks out there, buried in real mines, waiting to be dug up by sweaty, underpaid, and woefully underage hands?
I propose, with all due seriousness wrapped delicately in irony, that we take a long, hard look at the future workforce of this great nation: the Minecraft Generation. These children, these idle digital serfs, already spend upwards of twelve hours a day tunneling through pixelated terrain, hoarding virtual resources, and squealing in terror as Creepers obliterate their structurally unsound hovels. Clearly, these behaviors are a cry for vocational guidance. They are not playing; they are pleading—yearning, even—to be put to work in actual subterranean hellholes.
Let us give them what they so clearly desire.
The Proposal: Coal, Not Consoles
What I propose is simple, elegant, and ever-so-economical. We shall take every child who has demonstrated excessive affection toward Minecraft (defined scientifically as having built a scale replica of the Eiffel Tower, Hogwarts, or a Taco Bell in-game) and insert them directly into the workforce, specifically the mining industry. Not metaphorically. Not through internships or charming STEM camps. I mean physically. Helmets, pickaxes, and all.
“But narrator,” you may cry with the anguish of a thousand concerned PTA moms, “how dare you suggest such barbarity!”
To which I respond: how dare you waste such potential! These children have been training for this their entire lives. They understand resource management, tool durability, and how to navigate endless tunnels without the aid of a map or basic sunlight. They’re practically dwarves already—just with more backtalk and fewer beards.
Consider the benefits:
1. Economic Salvation: Why outsource labor when you’ve got a free workforce that not only wants to mine but will beg you for the chance to do so in 4K resolution with ray tracing enabled?
2. Physical Fitness: Instead of slouching in beanbag chairs shaped like oversized Cheetos, these kids will develop rock-hard calves and forearms that could strangle a bear. Obesity crisis? Solved. One boulder at a time.
3. Education, Reimagined: Why teach children geology in a sterile classroom when you could let them experience it firsthand, three miles underground, in a thrilling educational simulation known as “Real Life”? They’ll finally understand what obsidian really feels like when it crushes their foot.
4. Character Development: Nothing builds resilience like surviving a cave-in with nothing but a plastic lunchbox, a flashlight, and a vague recollection of Minecraft’s crafting table recipes.
Objections, Predictably Boring and Easily Dismissed
Some may argue, with the droning moral authority of a high school ethics teacher, that child labor is "inhumane," "unethical," or, my personal favorite, "illegal." These are the same people who let their children spend twenty hours a week hoarding iron ingots and naming pigs “Dinnerbone.” I ask: What’s more cruel—giving a child the satisfaction of actually earning that iron, or letting them wallow in digital delusion?
Besides, we’re not monsters. The children will be compensated. Not in money, of course—that would imply we’ve learned something from history—but in something far more valuable: achievement badges. Much like their beloved Xbox trophies, these badges will be awarded for such noble feats as “Extracted 1 Ton of Coal,” “Survived Tunnel Collapse,” and the ever-popular “Didn’t Cry for 6 Hours.” Perhaps they’ll even unlock a secret skin: the soot-covered, thousand-yard-stare “Veteran of Shaft 17” model.
Logistics, or How to Politely Kidnap Your Child for Economic Gain
Implementation is easy. Every child with more than 500 hours logged in Minecraft (and we all know that’s being conservative) will receive a government-issued pickaxe in the mail. A cheerful mining van—painted in charming blocky textures—will arrive to escort them to their new “Learning Experience Zones” deep in the Appalachians, Andes, or whatever third-world country is currently offering tax incentives for child-powered extraction.
Parents, of course, will be thrilled. Imagine the peace and quiet. The sheer serenity of a household where the only whining comes from the family dog and not a seven-year-old demanding Wi-Fi after a power outage. The kids get exercise, discipline, and real-world skills. The parents get wine and silence. It’s a win-win.
A Utopian Tomorrow, Fueled by Tiny Pickaxes
Imagine the future: Cities powered by child-mined coal, rare earth metals unearthed by preteens with a taste for digital glory, and a generation of youth that understands the true meaning of survival—not in some neon-lit, microtransaction-riddled battle royale, but in the inky black corridors of the human condition, armed with only a flashlight and a crushed Capri Sun.
Society would thank us. Future historians will write glowing tributes to the age of practical parenting and resourceful reuse of gaming addiction. Perhaps a statue will be erected in our honor—constructed, fittingly, out of stone blocks dug up by Timmy, age 9, from Shaft C.
In conclusion, let us no longer waste this precious resource: our Minecraft-addicted youth. Let us harvest their potential before their brains are fully developed and filled with dangerous thoughts like “critical thinking” and “college.” Let us forge a new path—straight down, into the earth—one block at a time.
Because if you mine it, they will come.
AmbreaTaddy
Your Local Strange French Woman
- Joined
- Jan 19, 2025
- Messages
- 299
- Points
- 108
blep
ElijahRyne
A Hermit that’s NOT that Lazy, currentlycomplainen
- Joined
- Aug 12, 2021
- Messages
- 1,813
- Points
- 153
I am winning currently.