oh no he didn't.
TO: Terence Hanbury White
FROM: Mordred of Orkney
DATE: 01.01.2006 02:17
SUBJECT: ....the hell?
Okay, it says here you were born in 1906? Well, thank your lucky fucking stars for that, Terence -- can I call you Terence? -- because if my mother had been around to hear you call her empty-headed, there would not even have been initials left of you for posterity. Just because Aunt Morgan was more obvious doesn't mean she was smarter.
I'm not even going to get started on the anachronisms -- I am many things, Terence, but a Nazi is not one of them, nor is a fucking Pekinese fancier -- or the fact that if you got laid twice in your life it was a miracle that your neurotic version of Lance could have been proud of, because what you know about women you could stick in your ear. I will, however, point out that not everybody north of the Wall is a) tattooed blue or b) a goddamn leprechaun.
As for your actual characterizations -- such as they are -- oh, where to begin? It's cute that you decided that because I'm Evil IncarnateTM I'm also a deformed troglodyte. That's original and groundbreaking of you, and Shakespeare totally didn't do it first and better. But you know, we'll get to me later.
My oldest brother? Is not stupid. Other things he is not include rude, uncultured, and without finer feeling. Yes, I know it makes the Frenchman look better by comparison if you write Gawain as a provincial clod with a ridiculous fake accent, but he is, in fact, not. Kind of like how our mother is, again, not a vacuous tramp-cum-hedge-witch. Are you seeing a trend here, Terence? Dysfunctional, I'll give you. Dumber than dirt, no.
Sweet of you to credit Agravain with more brains than the rest of us -- not that that's saying much -- but they don't call him Agravain of the Hard Hand because he's a whiny bitch too drunk to sit his horse. I mean, I'm the first to admit he's a jackass, but he does have a spine. He'd be a lot less trouble if he didn't.
Also sweet of you to write Gaheris off as a nonentity. If you'd met the little bastard, you'd know he's nowhere near that easy to ignore.
Gareth -- okay, I'll give you a pass on Gareth, everybody loves Gareth with good reason and you didn't actually libel him to hell and gone. But I'd appreciate it more if you didn't insinuate it's all due to Lancelot's good influence. God forbid he should be a nice kid on his own merits, or because he was brought up more or less right; no, we're all a seething morass of Oedipus complexes and Gaelic imprecations up here. We rely on the fucking French to civilize us.
Oh yes, because we are trouble on wheels, of course. From the moment we turn up on the scene we're a faction, because it's hopelessly backward to stick by your brothers in a foreign country -- graduating to a clique, no less, when I come in with, how did you put it? my "fashion and modernity and the rot at the Table's heart" -- excuse me? You're seriously trying to say that the whole thing went to hell because of those damn kids and their newfangled fads? Because Agravain and I (yes, I do know where this is going) are in fact those damn kids, who pick on the little ones in the playground because their mommy didn't hug them enough. Given your penchant for anachronism I'm surprised you don't have us sneaking cigarettes behind the outhouse. Or me tying miscellaneous damsels to the railway tracks, because Jesus, if you'd given me a mustache I'd be twirling it.
In short, Terence, you suck, your book sucks, your fixation on Merrie Olde Englande sucks, and Gawain could kick your sorry ass from here to the seventeenth century and still have both breath and vocabulary to tell you what for. Go to hell.
FROM: Mordred of Orkney
DATE: 01.01.2006 02:17
SUBJECT: ....the hell?
Okay, it says here you were born in 1906? Well, thank your lucky fucking stars for that, Terence -- can I call you Terence? -- because if my mother had been around to hear you call her empty-headed, there would not even have been initials left of you for posterity. Just because Aunt Morgan was more obvious doesn't mean she was smarter.
I'm not even going to get started on the anachronisms -- I am many things, Terence, but a Nazi is not one of them, nor is a fucking Pekinese fancier -- or the fact that if you got laid twice in your life it was a miracle that your neurotic version of Lance could have been proud of, because what you know about women you could stick in your ear. I will, however, point out that not everybody north of the Wall is a) tattooed blue or b) a goddamn leprechaun.
As for your actual characterizations -- such as they are -- oh, where to begin? It's cute that you decided that because I'm Evil IncarnateTM I'm also a deformed troglodyte. That's original and groundbreaking of you, and Shakespeare totally didn't do it first and better. But you know, we'll get to me later.
My oldest brother? Is not stupid. Other things he is not include rude, uncultured, and without finer feeling. Yes, I know it makes the Frenchman look better by comparison if you write Gawain as a provincial clod with a ridiculous fake accent, but he is, in fact, not. Kind of like how our mother is, again, not a vacuous tramp-cum-hedge-witch. Are you seeing a trend here, Terence? Dysfunctional, I'll give you. Dumber than dirt, no.
Sweet of you to credit Agravain with more brains than the rest of us -- not that that's saying much -- but they don't call him Agravain of the Hard Hand because he's a whiny bitch too drunk to sit his horse. I mean, I'm the first to admit he's a jackass, but he does have a spine. He'd be a lot less trouble if he didn't.
Also sweet of you to write Gaheris off as a nonentity. If you'd met the little bastard, you'd know he's nowhere near that easy to ignore.
Gareth -- okay, I'll give you a pass on Gareth, everybody loves Gareth with good reason and you didn't actually libel him to hell and gone. But I'd appreciate it more if you didn't insinuate it's all due to Lancelot's good influence. God forbid he should be a nice kid on his own merits, or because he was brought up more or less right; no, we're all a seething morass of Oedipus complexes and Gaelic imprecations up here. We rely on the fucking French to civilize us.
Oh yes, because we are trouble on wheels, of course. From the moment we turn up on the scene we're a faction, because it's hopelessly backward to stick by your brothers in a foreign country -- graduating to a clique, no less, when I come in with, how did you put it? my "fashion and modernity and the rot at the Table's heart" -- excuse me? You're seriously trying to say that the whole thing went to hell because of those damn kids and their newfangled fads? Because Agravain and I (yes, I do know where this is going) are in fact those damn kids, who pick on the little ones in the playground because their mommy didn't hug them enough. Given your penchant for anachronism I'm surprised you don't have us sneaking cigarettes behind the outhouse. Or me tying miscellaneous damsels to the railway tracks, because Jesus, if you'd given me a mustache I'd be twirling it.
In short, Terence, you suck, your book sucks, your fixation on Merrie Olde Englande sucks, and Gawain could kick your sorry ass from here to the seventeenth century and still have both breath and vocabulary to tell you what for. Go to hell.