Update 2024-03-27: Greatly expanded the "Samples" page and renamed it to "Glossary".
Update 2024-04-04: Added 5 million mid-2011 posts from the k47 post dump. Browse (mostly) them here.
Update 2024-04-07: Added ~400 October 2003 posts from 4chan.net. Browse them here.
Welcome to Oldfriend Archive, the official 4chan archive of the NSA. Hosting ~170M text-only 2003-2014 4chan posts (mostly 2006-2008).
Micheal Stover's adaptation of Star Wars Episode III is surprisingly very good.
The artificial daylight spread by the capital's orbital mirrors is sliced by intersecting flames of ion drives and punctuated by starburst explosions; contrails of debris raining into the atmosphere become tangled ribbons of cloud. The nightside sky is an infinite lattice of shining hairlines that interlock planetoids and track erratic spirals of glowing gnats. Beings watching from rooftops of Coruscant's endless cityscape can find it beautiful.
From the inside, it's different.
The gnats are drive-glows of starfighters. The shining hairlines are light-scatter from turbolaser bolts powerful enough to vaporize a small town. The planetoids are capital ships. The battle from the inside is a storm of confusion and panic, of galvened particle beams flashing past your starfighter so close that your cockpit rings like a broken annunciator, of the boot-sole shock of concussion missiles that blast into your cruiser, killing beings you have trained with and eaten with and played and laughed and bickered with. From the inside, the battle is desperation and terror and the stomach-churning certainty that the whole galaxy is trying to kill you.
I would love to read more, but I find that: (1) I don't have enough time to read; and (2) I tend to read too slowly (maybe one paperback page per minute).
How do you guys read more? What's your reading schedule like? I'm in my late 20s, I have a 10-6 job, and when I get home, I usually waste my time on 4chan instead of read.
Hey guys, I'm not much into books, writing or literature. For no reason, this piece of dialogue pop into my head, images and sound. I wrote it down, I'd like to have your thoughts... Here what happened:
And he asked the dying, now bald-headed, stunted middle-aged man: "Why do you live so much in your head? Your imaginary world. Why don't you spend more wisely the so little time you have left?"
To what he answered, piercing through his interlocutor's soul with his light-blued, still fully alive eyes: -"It's useless, I know for sure. If I've continued to live in this world at the expense of reality in which I bathe, it was because I still had faith of writing it; romance it, describe it: it's subtleties, intrigues, mysteries and dogmas..."
Looking far away through the window next to his bed, he continued: "The real world, the real life, when you concentrate hard enough for long enough, affects us less than the one in our head, where the time ticks when you give it thoughts. And unlike what you might think, this world isn't beautiful, it is not happy, nor white. Moreover, at the paroxysm of this beauty of it's own, it's complexity: it is affected by the real world, real memories, real emotions. Is that what entropy would be? Sometimes I surprise myself thinking the real world is someone's mind."
Thoughts? Sometimes I suddenly think of dialogues like this, but I don't know if it's worth writing it, put it together? Thanks!
