The Enemy. A game of yes and no

This is the finite version of the game. Here’s how it’s played.

Someone names the enemy. Anyone else may disagree and state why. Or not. It doesnt matter.

That can no longer be the enemy. Merely a clue.

Play stops when the enemy is identified. It begins again when that enemy is eliminated from play.

It’s important to keep track of progress.

Someone should do that.

Any may play.

Winning. That’s elusive. No one has found the win state yet.


No, it’s not Hitler that ends a thread, it’s Godwin.

Not him either.

The enemy is ignorance. Hitler was just an effigy.


Was it Professor Plum in the Billiard Room with the Lead Pipe?



We are our own worst enemy.


Our worst enemy is a red herring.


You mean it’s not Mr. Boddy?


You mean it’s Tim Curry?


He does do an awfully good bad guy, you have to admit:


Goddamn it. Tim motherfucking Curry.

You’re right. In three movies.

All three enemies in one.

Too good of an actor.

It’s where it all went wrong.

I remember people seriously like… deeply philosophically affected by those roles.


I think she has it.


Hey that was my guess!

Flag thrown by a zebra.

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It’s ok. It’s not Tim curry. He was in ferngully.


Wait. That’s quite broad. Too much to be useful.

Us is at least two things. You had two enemies with one name there.

We the people, and I the individual.

I thought you had it. Us and them or us. I dunno who us is.

I think the us’s have it. Walt Kelly certainly made a compelling case with this:

Traces of nobility, gentleness and courage persist in all people, do
what we will to stamp out the trend. So, too, do those characteristics
which are ugly. It is just unfortunate that in the clumsy hands of a
cartoonist all traits become ridiculous, leading to a certain amount of
self-conscious expostulation and the desire to join battle.

There is no need to sally forth, for it remains true that those things
which make us human are, curiously enough, always close at hand.
Resolve then, that on this very ground, with small flags waving and
tinny blast on tiny trumpets, we shall meet the enemy, and not only may
he be ours, he may be us.


So it’s us?

No one thinks it isn’t us?

Could be that destiny is a real thing, and none of us ever had a chance.

Maybe it’s God’s fault. (I’m one of the ones who believes in God, but it’s ok if he gets mad at me for the accusation; I know he’s ticklish)

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