You have meddled with the primal forces of nature, Mr. DarkUnderlord, and I won't have it! Is that clear?
You think you've merely installed a rating mod. That is not the case! The retards have taken the decent arguments out of this forum, and now they must put it back! It is ebb and flow, tidal gravity! It is ecological balance!
You are an old man who thinks in terms of threads and posts. There are no threads. There are no members. There are no moderators. There are no admins. There are no other forums. There is no Internet.
There is only one holistic system of systems, one vast and immane, interwoven, interacting, multivariate, multinational dominion of hatred. race-hate, gender-hate, console-hate... hass, nienawiść, haïr, ienaids, and ненависть.
It is the international system of hatred which determines the totality of life on this forum.
That is the natural order of things today. That is the atomic and subatomic and galactic structure of things today!
And YOU have meddled with the primal forces of nature, and YOU... WILL... ATONE!
Am I getting through to you, Mr. DarkUnderlord?
You get up on your little twenty-one inch screen and howl about Codex and your admin account. You think that you can simplify the hate, the dislike and streamline it into clicking a button. Retards and butthurts, a constant stream of ever increasing digits.
You think that your access to the databases lets you control the hate? Well, Mr. DarkUnderlord, next to hatred, you and your petty ambitions are nothing but dust in the wind. For the great wheel of hate, you're not even a pebble on the road.
We no longer live in a world of admins and members, Mr. DarkUnderlord. The Codex is a college of feuds, inexorably determined by the immutable bylaws of hate. The world is hate, Mr. DarkUnderlord. It has been since man crawled out of the slime. And our children will live, Mr. DarkUnderlord, to see that... perfect world... in which there's no self-censorship or downvoting, hateful exchanges simplified to a press of a button.
A world where wordsmiths and cockmongers face off in brutal duels of argumentation, leaving behind only hurt feelings and trauma. Everything written down, then torn apart and twisted into something foul. A world where one does not pop moles of butthurt from the safety of cover, but must expose themselves to the unforgiving hordes of the Codex. All forever documented in the eternal annals of retardo.
One vast and ecumenical holding company, for whom all men will work to serve a common hate, in which all men will hold a share of stock. All necessities provided, all anxieties tranquilized, all boredom amused. And I have chosen you, Mr. DarkUnderlord, to preach this evangel.