Picking through Dude, here's a good one from

Matt the Bruins Fan - I really am the only Buffista who loves the Jackson films in an entirely platonic way, aren't I?

In UnAmericans:

Betsy: Buffistas are all about the snark, Zoe. Seriously. That's our unifying value.

Okay, snark and politeness.

Okay, snark, politeness, and cheekbones.

Penny B: Our four greatest assets are. . .

Context? It's Allyson. You'll get no more context from me.

It's a look that screams, "Give me acid washed stretch jeans and the latest Whitesnake album, because we're going to the mall!"

Miracleman in Natter (he gets to COMM even when he's not funny!):

So, somewhat random babbling.

Aimee decided we would watch selected episodes of From The Earth To The Moon, detailing and dramatizing the Apollo space program that took us to the first man on the moon. And it occurred to me that the space program is a miracle.

Merriam-Webster's defines a miracle as:

Main Entry: mir·a·cle
Pronunciation: 'mir-i-k&l
Function: noun
Etymology: Middle English, from Old French, from Late Latin miraculum, from Latin, a wonder, marvel, from mirari to wonder at
Date: 12th century
1 : an extraordinary event manifesting divine intervention in human affairs
2 : an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment
3 Christian Science : a divinely natural phenomenon experienced humanly as the fulfillment of spiritual law

I understand that definition 1 doesn't necessarily apply. To my knowledge God Him/Herself never appeared to Kennedy or Buzz Aldrin or whoever and said "Thou shalt exceed the pull of earth and touch the Moon". But look at definition 2 again.

In four billion years (roughly) no species other than humanity has left the atmosphere. No species, in four billion years, has touched another heavenly body. We have done something we were never designed by nature to do. We defied evolution, we shook our fists at the "natural order" of things and achieved "an extremely outstanding or unusual event, thing, or accomplishment".

We built a miracle with our hands.

I mourn the loss of Columbia and her crew. I also mourn the crew of Challenger, and the crew of Apollo 1. These seventeen people are forever engraved on my soul as heroes of the highest order.

I'm not going to talk of nobility of sacrifice...I think it's a hollow argument. While these people accepted risk as part of their calling, I don't believe any of them, if asked, would say "Golly it's swell to die in the service of such a cause". Most of them would probably say "I would like to have come home and seen my family".

But, to me, their deaths, while tragic, were not a waste. They were not tossed unprepared into danger to accomplish nothing. They were not martyrs to a feeble and useless cause.

They helped build a miracle.

I'm going to go about my life and maybe write something good, and have a family and have my own private miracles. I can't fool myself, though. I'm not going to touch the stars, I will never walk on the surface of the moon, I will never see Mons Olympus with my own eyes. I won't be contributing to the human miracle of space travel. All I can do is watch it and cheer.

Just so long as the miracle keeps happening.

Wolfram in Angel:

I think it's really a word to give Angel a purpose. After all, he's not the SLAYER. If he weren't a CHAMPION, he'd just be a run-of-the-mill, black clothes-loving, brooding, 250 year old, souled vampire private investigator who fights evil.

Penny B

Not quite on topic, but this discussion reminds me of something a co-worker said to me when I was teaching in Japan: "Here, the vampire is always a foreigner."

Somervillain Buffy-Board game greatest hits, February 2003:

In re "fat pills" (kielbasa wrapped in bacon and smothered in secret sauce):
Ellen: These are really good. Is there only one pan of them?

In re same:
Nutty: You know, when we were Neanderthals and starving, these would have been great!

[n.b. thessaly = committee of Evil; Nutty = Buffy; Victor = Xander]
thessaly: Can we bribe Nutty with Pringles?
Victor: No, but we can bribe Xander.

Victor, upon hearing trash talk spoken about his marital Evil: Um, I love evil.

Ellen: Evil's cranky now.

A real card in the Buffy board game:
Help card: Riley. [...] Discard after use.

In re the Committee of Evil:
thessaly: No, I don't have the minutes of our last turn!

Nutty: She's on a mission from God.
Victor: Oh great, now Buffy thinks she's God.

Cybervixen in Natter:

Alarmingly, I first told my Dad that I was pregnant, and he was HAPPY. Damn, you know your getting old when the handy "I'm pregnant" trick fails to elicit shock and terror, and instead leads the 'rents to warm and fuzzy thoughts. Sigh.

Billytea, who should really just cut out the middleman and start posting here directly:

Echidnas aren't so much for the lekking. They prefer the ho train. Wait. Sorry, let's do this properly: THE HO-O-O-O TRA-A-AIN! (This is actually quite fantastic.) Come mating season, eligible females suddenly find themselves being closely followed by up to eight randy males. They then trail her for up to four weeks, presumably using subtle signals to indicate their relative mate-worthiness ("Do I make you horny, Baby?"), until the female is ready. She then lies flat on the ground and grabs a tree with her front claws ("Brace yerself, Ethel!"). At this point (I love this) the guys start circling the female (and tree), occasionally giving her a prod with their snouts - the reason why assurances of continued interest might be necessary will become apparent - and start digging a trench around her (and her tree).

Once the trench is of a suitable depth, it suddenly dawns on the males that There Can Be Only One. (Not sure why they have to reach this point; maybe digging helps them think. Or count. "Lessee, there's one of her, and... three... four...") Since they've already constructed their Pit of Doom, it's only natural that they then commence a wrestling match. (I like to think they give themselves stage names, like the Prickles of Power and Trench Lord.) One by one, male echidnas get pushed out of the trench; the last one below ground level is the lucky suitor, and clambers out to claim his prize (assuming the female hasn't got bored or wandered off, and the tree's still standing).

And human parents think they have problems explaining sex to their kids.

JessPMoon in Natter:

On a new European impotence med...

Levitra! sounds to me like what JK Rowling would call the anti-impotence spell if HP were being written for a different age group.