To camp, or not to camp: that is the question:


Whether ’tis nobler after bombing to turn tail,
To flee the pursuit of outraged defenders,
Or to take arms against a sea of reds!
And by opposing end them? To stay; to kill?
To compliment my approaching team,
Or should teammate bombers face reds alone,
To die at the last hill with bomb still clutched,
Devoutly wish’d to have been delivered
While my potential aid denied? There’s the rub;

For in hasty retreat what good did come?
When I left, my team abandoned to their toil;
Must give me pause: Where’s the respect?
Why should I seek of so long life;
For would I then bomb red's hangars in time?
Is it wrong, the proud man’s retreat?

But for the pangs of reds despise, taunts of dishonor,
The insolence of accusations and the spurns
A patient response, unworthy of my thought.
While red himself should hold his tongue.
Lest I remove it at spawn with a bare bodkin!

To grunt and sweat through a weary flight,
Only to dread of something besides my death;
The scorn of players, fair though their cause,
Doth confine the scope of worthy play
Makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than to fly as best we all might strive.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus with grim hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
'tis bane to inspired gamers play.

With this regard my interests turn away,
From former restrictions of game play past.
Now to the sky as Pheonix reborn!
Beware all reds! My conflict is gone!

McFate wrote: To camp, or not to camp: that is the question:


Whether ’tis nobler after bombing to turn tail,
to flee the pursuit of outraged defenders,
Or to take arms against a sea of reds!
And by opposing end them? To stay; and kill?
To compliment my approaching team,
Or should teammate bombers face reds alone,
To die at the last hill with bomb still clutched,
Devoutly wish’d to have been delivered.
While my potential aid denied? There’s the rub;

For in hasty retreat what good did come?
When I left, my team abandoned to the toil;
Must give me pause: Where’s the respect?
Why should I seek of so long life;
For would I then bomb the red hangars in time?
Is it wrong, the proud man’s retreat?

But for the pangs of reds despise, taunts of dishonor,
The insolence of accusations and the spurns
A patient response, unworthy of my time
While red himself should hold his tongue.
Lest I remove it with a bare bodkin!

To grunt and sweat through a weary flight,
Only to dread of something besides my death;
The scorn of players, fair though their cause,
And limit the scope of worthy play
makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than to fly as best we all might strive.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus with grim hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
It is bane to inspired gamers play.

With this regard my interests turn away,
From former restrictions of game play past.
Now to the games as Pheonix reborn!
Beware all reds! My conflict is gone!

This game I play to just have fun
My friend I say it's just a pun


Love it bud.

Camping is an artform and must be done the right way, tough! If there are other blues coming in of course i'm gonna help assist them in with their bombs, however I will not shoot a red until he is fully up or has fired at me already, I do not stay right over the base, i try to lead the reds away and draw them to chase me, therefore forgetting about the incoming blues allowing them a clear path to the hangers. This is better than shooting them down because once they respawn they will fire at the incoming blues, so i try to keep them chasing me and lead them away. Once the blues have all died or bombed I return to base to reload. If i fly in and bomb the hanger and there are no incoming blues i head out, unless fired upon, then i will turn around and shoot them down, allowing me time to turn and get back usually.

As long as you camp ethically it shouldnt be an issue, and i dont complain when it is done this way to me. I'm not going to leave a friend and good pilot hanging out to dry and run as i hope he makes it. But as we all know as in anything people will do as they wish, camping when they have no reason too or for too long and so on giving us "ethical campers" a bad rep.

McFate wrote: To camp, or not to camp: that is the question:


Whether ’tis nobler after bombing to turn tail,
to flee the pursuit of outraged defenders,
Or to take arms against a sea of reds!
And by opposing end them? To stay; to kill?
To compliment my approaching team,
Or should teammate bombers face reds alone,
To die at the last hill with bomb still clutched,
Devoutly wish’d to have been delivered.
While my potential aid denied? There’s the rub;

For in hasty retreat what good did come?
When I left, my team abandoned to the toil;
Must give me pause: Where’s the respect?
Why should I seek of so long life;
For would I then bomb the red hangars in time?
Is it wrong, the proud man’s retreat?

But for the pangs of reds despise, taunts of dishonor,
The insolence of accusations and the spurns
A patient response, unworthy of my thought.
While red himself should hold his tongue.
Lest I remove it at spawn with a bare bodkin!

To grunt and sweat through a weary flight,
Only to dread of something besides my death;
The scorn of players, fair though their cause,
And limit the scope of worthy play
Makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than to fly as best we all might strive.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus with grim hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
'tis bane to inspired gamers play.

With this regard my interests turn away,
From former restrictions of game play past.
Now to the sky as Pheonix reborn!
Beware all reds! My conflict is gone!

Bravo!
I am impressed, Sir!

Winnebago or Airstream? That is the question.

jacklpe wrote: Winnebago or Airstream? That is the question.

O jacklpe, what noble mind is here oerthrown,

I camp the second someone complains about camping

Our 6, their 2, abandon ye
Or teams reversed, so shall I stay
Reload I say, unless defend
I'll kill more when
I'm back your way.

Winne or an Airstream tow?
Thus greater question could not ask.
Have ye the strength upon thy tongue?
Without it thou
shalt fail thy task.

Manfred wrote: Our 6, their 2, abandon ye
Or teams reversed, so shall I stay
Reload I say, unless defend
I'll kill more when
I'm back your way.

While for many, four on four may be desired,
To win outnumbered skill is required.
The question here in character lies.
For would not those with honor sympathize;
A win is sweeter the more difficult the prize?

Alas, alack 'tis true I know
The feint will flee when numbers low
And by so doing, scorn honor in hand's reach.
When to escape loss, reds abandon team,
tipping scales in high sides favour,
Is loss of honor a thing to savor?
Though switching allegiance may seem just and good,
To switch can be a cutting sword,
Though balanced game; intentions be,
Blue teammates scorned has less reward.


Nay, Just Manfred, I would ask
What harm doth come when game hath passed?
For the team outnumbered to fail the task
For displaying Quixotic resolve, respect is gained
From every good player who loves the game.

Be it clear; I do not espouse
Abusive play in any course.
I merely beseech all who play
To meet a good fight or walk away.
And bite thy tongue if spite it spits
For better the game will be for it.

Manfred wrote: Winne or an Airstream tow?
Thus greater question could not ask.
Have ye the strength upon thy tongue?
Without it thou
shalt fail thy task.

To ponder? Nay,the choice is clear,
As should it be to all pilots here,
Twixt a "Winnie" made of tin and wood,
or Airstream "fusalage"; aluminum!

DoGss wrote: I camp the second someone complains about camping

Hail, DoGss! Good man, you've said it best!
Yes, clearly more, I must confess.
I'll repost here for your review.
In stanza three as I put forth,
Please see that I agree with you!

McFate wrote: ...
But for the pangs of reds despise, taunts of dishonor,
The insolence of accusations and the spurns
A patient response, unworthy of my thought.
While red himself should hold his tongue.
Lest I remove it at spawn with a bare bodkin!
...

Is this a camper I see before me, with its guns pointing toward my spawn?
Oh come, let me see you sneaker. I don’t see you but I can still sense.
A fateful apparition, isn’t it possible to kill you well before your strike?
Or are you nothing more than a danger created by the mind, a hallucination from my fevered brain?


Nice one McFate.

I reckon Zuperman should drop plans for ingame videoing, and add points for ingame prose. Raise Dogfight to the level of a "Classic Game", and help him win the competition.

For once being over 15 years old would become an advantage.
And hopefully it would raise the standard of ingame texting above the boring "No sneaking" and "Camper!" we currently get from the suicide squad.

McFate wrote: To camp, or not to camp: that is the question:


Whether ’tis nobler after bombing to turn tail,
To flee the pursuit of outraged defenders,
Or to take arms against a sea of reds!
And by opposing end them? To stay; to kill?
To compliment my approaching team,
Or should teammate bombers face reds alone,
To die at the last hill with bomb still clutched,
Devoutly wish’d to have been delivered.
While my potential aid denied? There’s the rub;

For in hasty retreat what good did come?
When I left, my team abandoned to their toil;
Must give me pause: Where’s the respect?
Why should I seek of so long life;
For would I then bomb the red hangars in time?
Is it wrong, the proud man’s retreat?

But for the pangs of reds despise, taunts of dishonor,
The insolence of accusations and the spurns
A patient response, unworthy of my thought.
While red himself should hold his tongue.
Lest I remove it at spawn with a bare bodkin!

To grunt and sweat through a weary flight,
Only to dread of something besides my death;
The scorn of players, fair though their cause,
Doth confine the scope of worthy play
Makes us rather bear those ills we have
Than to fly as best we all might strive.
Thus conscience does make cowards of us all;
And thus with grim hue of resolution
Is sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought,
'tis bane to inspired gamers play.

With this regard my interests turn away,
From former restrictions of game play past.
Now to the sky as Pheonix reborn!
Beware all reds! My conflict is gone!

I couldn't understand a word you said!

Btw I enjoy the art of fighting my way to the enimy base, and then being able to land safely at my own home base.

Art! my fine fellow of this great game of many ages, whose descendents will toil in sweat,
And as with our for fathers,
A scorn on their brow,
At the sight of reds without number,
Pillaging without mercy,
Till last hanger hath past.

Now what the hell did I just say?

Ah, good Fox,

I take your words as sweet lament
For nigh endeavors, someday to vex
New players who might't've discovered dogfight yet

Thou callest me a sneaky dog before thou hast cause. But since I am a dog, beware my fangs.

And all these years, I never knew!
If only my English Lit. teacher had told me the Great Bard (of Avon, not Ayrshire - Don't get uptight Mc...) was a closet Dogfighter, I would have paid a lot more attention at the time!!!

To Camp or Not to Camp.. That Is the Question?

Camping is the Answer!

& don't forget your hammock & the marshmallows!

one of the best threads in the history of DF...

"Thus the conscience does make cowards of us all"
So we fear the ridicule of the DogFight afterlife? What is the DF afterlife--the forum? The forum could be--Nirvana, Heaven, Hell or Purgatory. Afraid to act because of the fear of the unknown or is it the fear of the known? Let people say what they will. Let people act they way they do. It is harder to live this way in real life and a game. Utilitarianism versus Kantianism? Is that the question? I try to follow the advice from an ancient Japanese Haiku which actually addresses the issue of camping--


Tarmac Brake Hot Sun
Buzzing Planes Bullets Flying
I Hum "Kumbaya My Love"

The only real works of ole Bill which I really enjoyed was Dire Straits rendition of Romeo and Juliet. I guess I have no culture.