Demon Warthogs #82YLJ8QC - Level 11 Casual/Serious War & Talent Development Clan

CoLeaders needed.

We are in the market for 1 or 2 players TH10 or higher to help manage our clan. Ideal candidates would do some of the following: donate lots of troops, start wars, recruit new players, post and hit friendly challenges, keep morale up with friendly banter, 6-star wars, interfere with the internet access of our enemies, max clan games.

Demon Warthogs#82YLJ8QC

We are a war clan for the recreational player. We war hard, but we never forget our commitment to fun and teamwork. The clan is a play space, not a workplace. That's why supporting and encouraging the team is priority 1, and winning is priority 1.5.

This is also a clan where you're free to develop your village however you want. We understand that there are plenty of different ways to play the game. If you want to war you will need to be able to attack effectively, of course.

We run wars regularly (2 to 3 times per week) and since our record isn't that impressive overall we aren't going to make a big deal out of if you make a mess of your attack. That being said, put your best foot forward. If you're opted in, hit for stars, and aim for a triple. We are here to win, and improve our skills...while keeping our perspective.

Discord is optional, but it's pretty easy and it really helps a lot with organizing war attacks and talking about strategies and techniques.

If the clan is set invite only just put "zigzag" in your join request. Come on by and check us out!

I search your profile for a translation
I study the conversation like a map
Because I know there is strength in the differences between us
and I know there is comfort where we overlap

-Ani DiFranco

I heard of a man
who says words so beautifully
that if he only speaks their name
women give themselves to him.

If I am dumb beside your body
while silence blossoms like tumors on our lips
it is because I hear a man climb stairs
and clear his throat outside our door.

-L. Cohen

My November Guest
My Sorrow, when she's here with me,
Thinks these dark days of autumn rain
Are beautiful as days can be;
She loves the bare, the withered tree;
She walked the sodden pasture lane.

Her pleasure will not let me stay.
She talks and I am fain to list:
She's glad the birds are gone away,
She's glad her simple worsted gray
Is silver now with clinging mist.

The desolate, deserted trees,
The faded earth, the heavy sky,
The beauties she so truly sees,
She thinks I have no eye for these,
And vexes me for reason why.

Not yesterday I learned to know
The love of bare November days
Before the coming of the snow,
But it were vain to tell her so,
And they are better for her praise.

Robert Frost

& whoever's in charge up there
had better take the elevator down
& put more than change in our cup
or else we
are coming
up

-Ani DiFranco

What I'm Doing Here

I do not know if the world has lied
I have lied
I do not know if the world has conspired against love
I have conspired against love
The atmosphere of torture is no comfort
I have tortured
Even without the mushroom cloud
still I would have hated
Listen
I would have done the same things
even if there were no death
I will not be held like a drunkard
under the cold tap of facts
I refuse the universal alibi

Like an empty telephone booth passed at night
and remembered
like mirrors in a movie palace lobby consulted
only on the way out
like a nymphomaniac who binds a thousand
into strange brotherhood
I wait
for each one of you to confess

-L. Cohen

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

-Robert Frost

"TO A POET A THOUSAND YEARS HENCE"

I who am dead a thousand years,
And wrote this sweet archaic song,
Send you my words for messengers
The way I shall not pass along.

I care not if you bridge the seas,
Or ride secure the cruel sky,
Or build consummate palaces
Of metal or of masonry.

But have you wine and music still,
And statues and a bright-eyed love,
And foolish thoughts of good and ill,
And prayers to them who sit above?

How shall we conquer? Like a wind
That falls at eve our fancies blow,
And old Maeonides the blind
Said it three thousand years ago.

O friend unseen, unborn, unknown,
Student of our sweet English tongue,
Read out my words at night, alone:
I was a poet, I was young.

Since I can never see your face,
And never shake you by the hand,
I send my soul through time and space
To greet you. You will understand.

By James Elroy Flecker (1884-1915).

I met a traveller from an antique land,
Who said—“Two vast and trunkless legs of stone
Stand in the desert. . . . Near them, on the sand,
Half sunk a shattered visage lies, whose frown,
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,
The hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed;
And on the pedestal, these words appear:
My name is Ozymandias, King of Kings;
Look on my Works, ye Mighty, and despair!
Nothing beside remains. Round the decay
Of that colossal Wreck, boundless and bare
The lone and level sands stretch far away.”

-Percy Bysshe Shelley

My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light!

-Edna St. Vincent Millay