Masters Swimmers Acting Like Triathletes

These incendiary threads, like the Great Influenza of 1918, eventually burn themselves out, agreed? I think, if we are all somewhat honest about it, people who are swimming against one another in their dotage have at least a little bit of the competitive instinct in them, and furthermore, those who swim against one another in their dotage and also spend absurd amounts of time wasting on this forum probably represent an even more competitive subset of the already above average competitive sample group of masters swimmers as a whole. (I don't mean that posters are better swimmers, just that we most likely have even more competitve natures than those who don't post--I stipulate this may be a faulty assumption, but I think there's reason to believe it's true.) If you are still following me, I think what emerges from all this is that we who are still writing anything at this point are doing so not because we expect to change anyone's mind, or even add clarity to the debate. Hell, I don't even know what the topic is anymore. What we share is not so much common love of intellectual give and take but an orientation towards beating other people silly. Just beating the bejesus out of their brainpans till our drum sticks are slippery with cerebral distillium, and the loved ones of the fallen are dry weeping from dry sockets, and we can smell the perfume that is blood rising in our lupine nostrils, and all we want to do is howl and howl and feast on meat! Anyhow, in the spirit of a Hallmark Special on TV, where mortal enemies reach some kind of rapprochement by the end of the two-hour time slot, and peace reigns again in the Happy Kingdom, I propose a fit ending to this oh-so-pleasurable bloodsport of a thread! I think we can agree that they're are only two alternatives: let the thing slowly die off, like H1N1 circa 1918 slowly mutating back to the "normal" 1 in 1000 virulence rate of the vast majority of flu viruses that have swept through earth's history. Call this the ending with a whimper, if you will, one that lacks the oomph such a storied conflict deserves. Or we can end it another way, the way that I propose, a way that will allow this whole business to live on forever, taking on the ever brightening sheen of an Arthurian legend! What say ye? Are ye with me here? If so, let me throw out a cheer, and let this cheer be echoed a thousand times, and each echo, in turn, spawn a thousand echoes more, and so forth, till the whole Earth shakes from the resonance of it: Hail, King Jimby, Lord of the Water! You have won this one--even the most foolish and pigheaded of us must concede this fact! We shall lay our weapons down before thee and accept our fate! Hail to the Conquering Hero of Us All: King Jim Thornton, Whose Goodness Exceeds That of Wencenslas Himself! To this cheer, I answer back, from the deepest well springs of my nobleman's humble heart, "You're welcome! Now will one of you please get this lawyer out of my ass."

These incendiary threads, like the Great Influenza of 1918, eventually burn themselves out, agreed? I think, if we are all somewhat honest about it, people who are swimming against one another in their dotage have at least a little bit of the competitive instinct in them, and furthermore, those who swim against one another in their dotage and also spend absurd amounts of time wasting on this forum probably represent an even more competitive subset of the already above average competitive sample group of masters swimmers as a whole. (I don't mean that posters are better swimmers, just that we most likely have even more competitve natures than those who don't post--I stipulate this may be a faulty assumption, but I think there's reason to believe it's true.) If you are still following me, I think what emerges from all this is that we who are still writing anything at this point are doing so not because we expect to change anyone's mind, or even add clarity to the debate. Hell, I don't even know what the topic is anymore. What we share is not so much common love of intellectual give and take but an orientation towards beating other people silly. Just beating the bejesus out of their brainpans till our drum sticks are slippery with cerebral distillium, and the loved ones of the fallen are dry weeping from dry sockets, and we can smell the perfume that is blood rising in our lupine nostrils, and all we want to do is howl and howl and feast on meat! Anyhow, in the spirit of a Hallmark Special on TV, where mortal enemies reach some kind of rapprochement by the end of the two-hour time slot, and peace reigns again in the Happy Kingdom, I propose a fit ending to this oh-so-pleasurable bloodsport of a thread! I think we can agree that they're are only two alternatives: let the thing slowly die off, like H1N1 circa 1918 slowly mutating back to the "normal" 1 in 1000 virulence rate of the vast majority of flu viruses that have swept through earth's history. Call this the ending with a whimper, if you will, one that lacks the oomph such a storied conflict deserves. Or we can end it another way, the way that I propose, a way that will allow this whole business to live on forever, taking on the ever brightening sheen of an Arthurian legend! What say ye? Are ye with me here? If so, let me throw out a cheer, and let this cheer be echoed a thousand times, and each echo, in turn, spawn a thousand echoes more, and so forth, till the whole Earth shakes from the resonance of it: Hail, King Jimby, Lord of the Water! You have won this one--even the most foolish and pigheaded of us must concede this fact! We shall lay our weapons down before thee and accept our fate! Hail to the Conquering Hero of Us All: King Jim Thornton, Whose Goodness Exceeds That of Wencenslas Himself! To this cheer, I answer back, from the deepest well springs of my nobleman's humble heart, "You're welcome! Now will one of you please get this lawyer out of my ass."