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5th Edition
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Banana green.png
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Estne tibi forte magna feles fulva et planissima?
Saturday, 27 Ergust 2011
The Illogicopedian Times is a thought experiment come true. In retrospect, the thinker really should have thought to ask for a second opinion before crossing over the reality barrier. Rather thoughtless, given the nature of the thinklessness of the thoughts the thinkers thunk for this issue, don't you think?
We're back: No vote required.

Late Monday, in the finest Uncyclopedian tradition, our eminent and ignoble founder popped by ?pedia, noticed a mention of the ?Times on the Forum, didn't bother reading any of the discussion, asked some questions which were already answered in the forum, and then put the question of whether or not to have a reborn ?Times up on the site's notice banner.
On that note, I'd like to welcome you to the second issue of ?pedia's newly reborn, fact-free, paper-free newspaper. We're still very proud to be the news sauce where the right hand doesn't know what the left hand is doing, but still knows enough not to ask either, because that naughty left has usually been scratching somewhere best not discussed in polite company.
Go ahead and try to vote us back out of existence if you will. Just know that we're just the sort of writers who will continue to write no matter whether people are actually reading or not. It's just the way we've done things since the site was founded.


Readmesoon perplexed, second story turns into swashbuckling bucket of day-past fresh label saltine crackers
Soft people show despair.

Crowds of soft fluffy colorful people-like units collectively gasped at the sight of the second story morph into a bucket. On top of this, numerous witnesses fainted upon finding the crispy truth: the bucket (noted swashbuckler) was full of salted crackers. This, of course, has nothing to do with the grand point of the article: Readmesoon fluxes his literate muscles through a media medium.

In other words, my fancy attempt at redeeming myself writing-wise flopped within the first six words, unlike George Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four: "It was the best of times...". Yes, I have once again displayed my superior literature knowledge. Everyone thank the internet for my leaps and bounds of interest in crap.


My Considered Opinion

Mutley, you snickering, floppy eared hound. When courage is needed, you're never around. Those medals you wear on your moth-eaten chest should be there for bungling at which you are best. So, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon, stop that pigeon. Howwww! Nab him, jab him, tab him, grab him, stop that pigeon now.

The Ins and Outs of Crapping Out an Epic

I believe it was Shakespeare who once said, "Well, if it's long and convoluted with fancy language, I suppose it's good." Then again, he probably actually said something longer and more convoluted with fancy language. Anyway, I'm hear to talk about something that I've gained an affinity for doing, Crapping out an Epic.

What is, "Crapping out an Epic", well Timmy, it is simply when you have zero ideas left, and rather than try to be creative, you type a long masterpiece piece of garbage with tons of dialogue and other stuff that takes up space. At some point, it becomes the only legitimate reason to write any articles whatsoever.

The topic is irrelevant, although your Epic becomes crappier in relation to how crappy your topic is. Make the article dialogue heavy with many conversations of banter possibly about what a Quarter Pounder with Cheese is called in France (although that would be plagiarism which I do not advise).

Follow these hard-to-follow steps and you'll be on your way to being on your way to find your way to- dammit, I don't have an ending.


I'm so good, I don't have to reconnoiter
Soft people show despair.

I'm so good, I only have to connoiter once. While connoitering the intermediate surroundings of the interwebs earlier this week, I spotted a pod of badgers decorating a driveway in back-country Pennsylvania. Needless to say, I was reminded by the solidarity demonstrated by we ?pedians during these crucial times, the pre-Apocalypse. Not panicking much, steadfast in our pudding retaliations, dilated to centrimetric sufficiency, pre-approved for credit where credit is due... in short, beleaguered brutishly baring balse balliteration, we trudge willingly into the jaws of Kaizum.

Now, go into your box and feel shame for 5 minutes.


They're here
By Athyria

The Aliens! The Giant Aliens, they're here! There's one in my sitting room right now, and it bloody broke my ceiling! Help!