You know you couldn't ban me Wheylous, we're too close. I'm your favorite mod on these forums and you know it.
You couldn't touch me I'm like the ying to your yang, the moon to your sun, the dark to your light. I am like Luigi and you Mario, the like Watson to Holmes, I am the stuffed tiger to your Calvin. You could never even consider hitting that button. We're like Frodo and Sam, Simon and Garfunkel, Hitler and Hermann Goering, Luke and Hon Solo, Eisenhower and MacArthur, Romulus and Remus, Sonic and Tails, Ben and Jerry, George Bush and Tony Blair, Spongebob and Patrick, Fred and George, peanut butter and jelly, Gilbert and Sullivan, Lewis and Clark... Hell, I'm the Costello to your Abbot.
I'd go so far as to say that I am your Samuelson, your Engels... Your Hayek...
So do it Wheylous DO IT
. Throw it all way! All the years together, all the laughs, all the tears. Click on that "ban" button and send me away forever. It won't fill the sorrow in your heart, you'll just find your pain and suffering increased a thousand fold.
You'll be like Judas but more of a dick, Brutus but less good looking, like Benedict Arnold except less justified, like Anakin but without any cool powers. You'll be like Saruman without a wise beard, like Stalin except more tyrannical, like Alexander Hamilton except less well respected, like Lucifer except more evil.
If you ban me then all the libertarian cites on the internet will shun you, they will not look at you, they will not have you. You will be forced to wander the internet for your grave treachery until you finally find some dark socialist hole in some Marxist message board to crawl into. There you'll live out the miserable months and years, until finally that day you've had enough and you scroll up to that button and you click down on that mouse and press the "ban" button on yourself and you put yourself out of your own misery.
I'm not afraid of you Wheylous, you wouldn't dare touch a hair on my profile's head.
Friends, Greenland is a place where souls go to dry out. It is a vast and terrifying place of ice fields and tundra. Bereft of fire and in the horror of its imposing irrelevance there is a sort peace. The peace of pain... the peace of nothing. Well friends, I'm going there. Fear is lying dying in the sands, and it's breathing from the gills of my Greenland