Wake for Byron: All that and a bag of chips...

[neci]

Spem In Alium

Hope in any other

 

[Farrah]

((Noor))

I'm forever incapable of watching or quoting Tombstone without thinking of Byron.

"I'm your huckleberry."

 

[Mrtenant]

Peace be with you, Byron

 

[dolf]

it's stuck in my head.

 

[Joeybagadonuts]

Python, Deadwood, rocket technology and several other things will always cause me to think of Byron.

 

[Skiddles2014]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iJ4T9CQA0UM&index=1&list=PL453C16708A2BC9EF

 

[Ishmael]

The Byron I knew.

Wakes are for remembrances and a proper Irish wake, and I can't believe Byron would want anything but, wouldn't be a wake without some adult libations. With that in mind I've poured myself a generous dollop of my finest concoction.

Byron was very compartmentalized. He showed some folks one side, other folks got to see a different Byron. There may be a lucky few that got to see the entire man. But I can only speak to the Byron I knew.

Byron joined Lit. in May of 2003, sort of a watershed month for Lit. It was at that time some perniciously annoying trolls joined up and beyond being annoying, they were utterly vicious in their treatment of many Litsters. Their apparent goal, it seemed, was to be as disruptive as possible.

It was obvious to me that Byron was particularly intelligent, tech savvy, and more importantly had a sense of propriety. It wasn't long before we hooked up to try to combat the trolls. I had my set of skills and Byron his, skills that seemed to complement one another. He was particularly adept at Tcl scripting. We made contact with other Lit members as a source of information concerning the trolls. Byron had his contacts, I had mine. We never disclosed to one another our sources and I suspect that we shared more than a few in common. And I don't think anyone ever tied us together, and that was purposeful as well.

We would sift Lit. and the inter-web for data to be used against our intended targets/victims. when we were ready to move Byron or myself would take the lead in starting the thread. On some occasions we could irritate the target/victim to start a thread on a theme that we had set them up for. It was rare, but it was so satisfyingly delicious.

We worked diligently together over a period of time that extended into 2005+-ish time frame. One of the reasons that our PM boxes were always full (Lit. had a 50 msg. limit back then). About that time Byron and I began to drift apart. L&M had put into place all of the features/safeguards that everyone takes as common place today. No unregistered posting, time-outs between posts/searches, the 'ignore' function. Functions that pulled the worst of the teeth from the trolls. And Lit. grew up as well. The open naivete that was once the hallmark of the boards was gone.........forever.

Byron drifted off into the esoteric and fluff, whilst I abandoned fluffing and made extensive use of the ignore function.

But for over 2 years we worked together and it was God damned well a LOT of fun.

And that is the Byron I knew and will remember.

Ishmael

 

[Noor]

I see him everywhere around my world, we would talk by land line, cell phone, VIOP, laptop, desktop.

A decade of small on the board interactions until 3am one morning after I returned from the ER with a broken leg, he called. In the 11+ months since then until July 4, there was a totally of 15 days when we didn't communicate with each other.

I would just open up skype wherever I was, even getting medical treatment, at my friends, the supermarket, events. I would spend entire days and nights with him. The longest skype ever went without crashing was about 19 hrs. Some days I would wake up and fall asleep to the sound of his voice. My friends and family also knew he was there and would say hi, and talk with him when I was busy.

We listened to music, radio, watched movies, tv shows, laughed a hell of lot, had ridiculous arguments, eat together, sang, read quietly in bed at night, went over the day, washed dishes, paid bills, played games while discussing everything under the sun, quietly were just there with each other while we worked, had absurd discussions about fantastical things, distracted each other from bad stuff, help each other fight our demons, did internet research together, shared pictures and stories of our lives, made plans and dreams...

He was a handful to say the least, but he made feel me very comfortable and happy.
I knew he cared for me very much, but I was not aware of the depth of his feelings until this past week. There is no good time for a death and his happened at a very unfortunate time, which made it all the harder.

Sometimes we would post for each other or together in case you are wondering why there would be some toned down Byron posts or more snarky Noor ones.

 

[Noor]

Thanks, Ishmael, that was great!

My interactions with him floated between so many worlds, including the tech ones. I was actually faster than he was at a few things, but darn, he was good! He could be very linear and persistent, which is so not me. His patience was awe inspiring.

One day we found ourselves describing how we made decisions as sort routines. We laughed so hard because it just made perfect sense, we both used fast ones, but they were entirely different processes.

 

[garbage can]

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.​

My heart goes out to you, Noor


.

 

[Disgustipated]

Noor,

Did you ever meet Byron in person? Are you going to his funeral?

 

[Noor]

Do not stand at my grave and weep
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft stars that shine at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry;
I am not there. I did not die.​

My heart goes out to you, Noor


.

Thanks Garby! That is a good one.
I remember it being read at Finchhatten's service in the movie Out of African.

 

[patient1]

Let's see if I can finish this post.

This was most unexpected.

First, I was in denial. It can't be serious. Byron must have wanted a memorium instead of a birthday thread or something. Or a worthy conclusion to such a prolific identity. Byron is omnipresent. Byron is omniscient. He's eternal and immortal. He can't be gone. He's pulling some kind of a Doctor Who transformation. He's left and come back before. I'm still here, and he'll be here long after me, right?

But I believe Laurel. I had no reason not to believe Noor, other than I don't want to. Believing that Byron wasn't alive anymore was like overdosing on decongestants. I can't stop my eyes and nose streaming. It's happening again. I had to read this thread in small doses. Then I gave up and went to cook dinner, but I managed to cut myself, something I hadn't done in the kitchen in many, many, years.

I don't know why I'm taking this so hard, I just am. He's not one of the many I've met in person, or spoken with on the phone, or exchanged mail with. We always got along. I could never cheer him up as often as I would have liked, I could never understand everything he wrote, or fathom the depths of his emotions. I could count on him to help whenever I made a polite request for his expertise . I'm sure he considered me a fool or an idiot at times, but he never made me mad, and our last interaction was great. No loose ends or unresolved issues.

It should be easier. After all, he left more words behind for posterity than many novelists. They could continue indefinitely. Maybe it's because he had so much to do with this place, and will leave such a big void.

The question on my mind at the moment is who were his alternate identities? I've suspected some, but often wondered about how many others there could be. Maybe he had identities for other moods, which I never noticed. The guy was complex.

I really miss him.

 

[ms_ann_thrope]

Noor,

Did you ever meet Byron in person? Are you going to his funeral?

Finally.

 

[Ishmael]

This was most unexpected.

First, I was in denial. It can't be serious. Byron must have wanted a memorium instead of a birthday thread or something. Or a worthy conclusion to such a prolific identity. Byron is omnipresent. Byron is omniscient. He's eternal and immortal. He can't be gone. He's pulling some kind of a Doctor Who transformation. He's left and come back before. I'm still here, and he'll be here long after me, right?

But I believe Laurel. I had no reason not to believe Noor, other than I don't want to. Believing that Byron wasn't alive anymore was like overdosing on decongestants. I can't stop my eyes and nose streaming. It's happening again. I had to read this thread in small doses. Then I gave up and went to cook dinner, but I managed to cut myself, something I hadn't done in the kitchen in many, many, years.

I don't know why I'm taking this so hard, I just am. He's not one of the many I've met in person, or spoken with on the phone, or exchanged mail with. We always got along. I could never cheer him up as often as I would have liked, I could never understand everything he wrote, or fathom the depths of his emotions. I could count on him to help whenever I made a polite request for his expertise . I'm sure he considered me a fool or an idiot at times, but he never made me mad, and our last interaction was great. No loose ends or unresolved issues.

It should be easier. After all, he left more words behind for posterity than many novelists. They could continue indefinitely. Maybe it's because he had so much to do with this place, and will leave such a big void.

The question on my mind at the moment is who were his alternate identities? I've suspected some, but often wondered about how many others there could be. Maybe he had identities for other moods, which I never noticed. The guy was complex.

I really miss him.

Not so much for me P1.

Ishmael

 

[Bidin~Time]

As we pass through this thing called life, we touch lives in ways we can never fathom. Usually, and in times past, it was done face to face or word of mouth, but certainly in a tangible manner. Then along came the internet and our world was expanded in doubles and triples and quadruples, until it has become difficult to take in the magnitude of this, this intangible thing called the Web.

With Byron's passing, and through this thread, I have been struck with the thought that, even through the anonymity of the internet, we touch the lives of an ever-widening circle of individuals. That some never see, speak to, or even acknowledge us and our existence, is of little consequence. The lesson to be learned is that it happens, sometimes more in spite of our intentions rather than because of our intentions.

Somewhere, in some other level of consciousness, I hope Byron can see this thread, and know and understand that his presence touched more people than he could have ever imagined. More importantly, he touched us in mostly positive ways. I hope that knowledge makes him smile before he spirits off into the Great Unknown. Or whatever it is we will do when that time comes to us.

Thanks for everything, Byron. Your shoes will lie unfilled forevermore. While there may be those equal to you in many ways, none will have that certain 'thing', that unique quirkiness and intelligence, that made you, You. I, for one, am gonna miss the heck out of your presence.

 

[Noor]

Not so much for me P1.

Ishmael

Why not?

 

[Que]

As we pass through this thing called life, we touch lives in ways we can never fathom. Usually, and in times past, it was done face to face or word of mouth, but certainly in a tangible manner. Then along came the internet and our world was expanded in doubles and triples and quadruples, until it has become difficult to take in the magnitude of this, this intangible thing called the Web.

With Byron's passing, and through this thread, I have been struck with the thought that, even through the anonymity of the internet, we touch the lives of an ever-widening circle of individuals. That some never see, speak to, or even acknowledge us and our existence, is of little consequence. The lesson to be learned is that it happens, sometimes more in spite of our intentions rather than because of our intentions.

Somewhere, in some other level of consciousness, I hope Byron can see this thread, and know and understand that his presence touched more people than he could have ever imagined. More importantly, he touched us in mostly positive ways. I hope that knowledge makes him smile before he spirits off into the Great Unknown. Or whatever it is we will do when that time comes to us.

Thanks for everything, Byron. Your shoes will lie unfilled forevermore. While there may be those equal to you in many ways, none will have that certain 'thing', that unique quirkiness and intelligence, that made you, You. I, for one, am gonna miss the heck out of your presence.

If there is something beyond this mortal coil, of course he receives this thread. He wouldn't need to "read" it in the firing up a device sort of way. He has to be able to sense the thoughts wishes and prayers sent his way. Else, why has all humankind always communed with their departed. The medium doesn't mater.

I sense "aw-shucks," and embarrassed deflection, but him being really pleased beneath it all. Especially over tales of forgiveness and good will, and making moments of impact that people remember fondly.

 

[Noor]

If there is something beyond this mortal coil, of course he receives this thread. He wouldn't need to "read" it in the firing up a device sort of way. He has to be able to sense the thoughts wishes and prayers sent his way. Else, why has all humankind always communed with their departed. The medium doesn't mater.

I sense "aw-shucks," and embarrassed deflection, but him being really pleased beneath it all. Especially over tales of forgiveness and good will, and making moments of impact that people remember fondly.

He would be dead chuffed.

 

[Que]

He (is) dead chuffed.

Fixed your post. He'd like the pun in your post as well. Although his version would be in Latin and over my head.

 

[Noor]

Fixed your post. He'd like the pun in your post as well. Although his version would be in Latin and over my head.

 

[Noor]

Spem In Alium

Hope in any other

I think I will try to go to sleep to this.

 

[Cheyenne]

Noor, sorry to hear of Byron's passing. It took patient1 awhile to tell me, he did it maybe an hour ago. And with tears in his eyes so when he said there was bad news, I knew he meant it. Now there are tears in my eyes, too.

It sounds like Byron was happy these past 11 months with you in his life so that is comforting. I haven't been here more than a couple times in the last year or so so I never saw you two interact or caught the connection between you. I hope that you did have a chance to meet and know him in "real life." Lit brought so much joy into my life meeting Patient1 here, I hope you two had such happiness, too. Please accept my sympathy for your loss.

At first it was hard to believe that Byron could actually be gone. First there was Mensa, so many years ago. Then Problem Child. Now Byron. Pieces of Lit go with each of them, and pieces of them stay behind. I'm sure there have been others but these three are the ones that changed Lit for me with their passing. Maybe they all have their own Lit waiting for the rest of us to get there and join in again some day.

R.I.P. Byron.

 

[butters]

I see him everywhere around my world, we would talk by land line, cell phone, VIOP, laptop, desktop.

A decade of small on the board interactions until 3am one morning after I returned from the ER with a broken leg, he called. In the 11+ months since then until July 4, there was a totally of 15 days when we didn't communicate with each other.

I would just open up skype wherever I was, even getting medical treatment, at my friends, the supermarket, events. I would spend entire days and nights with him. The longest skype ever went without crashing was about 19 hrs. Some days I would wake up and fall asleep to the sound of his voice. My friends and family also knew he was there and would say hi, and talk with him when I was busy.

We listened to music, radio, watched movies, tv shows, laughed a hell of lot, had ridiculous arguments, eat together, sang, read quietly in bed at night, went over the day, washed dishes, paid bills, played games while discussing everything under the sun, quietly were just there with each other while we worked, had absurd discussions about fantastical things, distracted each other from bad stuff, help each other fight our demons, did internet research together, shared pictures and stories of our lives, made plans and dreams...

He was a handful to say the least, but he made feel me very comfortable and happy.
I knew he cared for me very much, but I was not aware of the depth of his feelings until this past week. There is no good time for a death and his happened at a very unfortunate time, which made it all the harder.

Sometimes we would post for each other or together in case you are wondering why there would be some toned down Byron posts or more snarky Noor ones.

dear noor,

i don't think everyone understands just how intimate a relationship like this can be: some who've never experienced such closeness can't get their heads round it. if anything, when two people are entirely honest with eachother, mind speaks directly to mind, heart to heart, without the barrier of flesh... you can get to know a person more deeply, faster, and make a more solid connection than others going the 'in the flesh' route. meeting eachother is the icing on the cake, but even though your future plans were cut short, you shared more closely and honestly with him than plenty of couples who've lived together for years.

harry and i got involved this way, and when we met it was wonderful but while we're apart for now we still feel we're together. i'm happy you found eachother and had this time together, sorry those plans couldn't come to fruition, and sure you will always feel connected to him through your memories, his posts here, and knowing how he felt about you.

 

[Noor]

dear noor,

i don't think everyone understands just how intimate a relationship like this can be: some who've never experienced such closeness can't get their heads round it. if anything, when two people are entirely honest with eachother, mind speaks directly to mind, heart to heart, without the barrier of flesh... you can get to know a person more deeply, faster, and make a more solid connection than others going the 'in the flesh' route. meeting eachother is the icing on the cake, but even though your future plans were cut short, you shared more closely and honestly with him than plenty of couples who've lived together for years.

harry and i got involved this way, and when we met it was wonderful but while we're apart for now we still feel we're together. i'm happy you found eachother and had this time together, sorry those plans couldn't come to fruition, and sure you will always feel connected to him through your memories, his posts here, and knowing how he felt about you.

Thanks Butters!