ALL YOUR HASH ARE BELONG TO US

A tale of two hashes

Since the outgoing scribe, Bad Hobbit, has  ̶b̶e̶e̶n̶ ̶a̶n̶ ̶u̶t̶t̶e̶r̶l̶y̶ ̶l̶a̶z̶y̶ ̶b̶a̶s̶t̶a̶r̶d̶ been quite understandably busy of late with his new job and getting settled back in to life in Chiang Rai town, the following write-up will be not one but two hashes combined, with the account of the first one being a bit scant.

Before we start, it has come to my attention that the reason the lyric from one of our most revered traditional hash songs, “he/she’s a hasher true and true, he/she’s a pisspot so they say, he/she tried to get to heaven but went the other way” was initially changed due to a concern it could offend some religious beliefs. The scribe understands and sympathises with that sentiment, and in that spirit, and for the sake of inclusion and diversity, has chosen a representative of one of the minor faiths of the world to open with a prayer. He was initially considering the Church of the Flying Spaghetti Monster, however at the last minute he instead selected a representative of the Cult of Kek, an ancient religion of meme-farmers and shitposters from the internet.

“Our Kek, who art in memetics
Hallowed be thy memes, Thy Trumpdom Come,

Thy will be done in real life as it is on /pol.

Give us this day our daily dubs,

And forgive us our baiting

As we forgive those who bait against us,

Lead us not into cuckoldry,

And deliver us from shills,

For thine is the memetics and the shitposting and the winning, from now and forever,

Prakse Kek.”

May’s Hash.

Following the impressive attendance at the last few hashes, and the April’s hash having cancelled due to the holiday season, May’s hash was the first one back after everyone was returned.

Unfortunately, after the adventures of the holiday period, ‘returned’ did not equate to ‘having shekels’. It was, unfortunately, going to be a few weeks until anyone was able to come out and do things again, and such being the case, along with the fact that it was raining torrentially up to and including just before the commencement of the Hash, compared to the last few hashes attendance was somewhat sparse. Having only just completed laying the trail that day, the hares could only stand and watch as all their hard work was unceremoniously washed away by a torrent of utter arseholery from Mother Nature.

Indeed, during the run, there were several points at the front runners had to search for the trail with slightly less laziness than usual, however the hares had the novel idea of coming back the other way, and laying paper anew, which meant that the trail, towards the end, was somewhat easier than it was at the start, though there *was* another buffalo problem before the finish. Despite all the trail issues, however, the hash was very scenic, with one excellent photo being provided by Hash Photographer Pussy Rainbow. The scribe himself was the first to finish, once again, and there was much waiting around before the rest finally finished, in dribs and drabs, before the circle could finally begin and he could commence the duties of his second job as GM, which  ̶i̶s̶ ̶s̶t̶a̶n̶d̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶n̶d̶ ̶t̶a̶l̶k̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶b̶o̶l̶l̶o̶c̶k̶s̶,̶ ̶a̶k̶a̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶-̶l̶i̶f̶e̶ ̶s̶h̶i̶t̶p̶o̶s̶t̶i̶n̶g̶ is the vital, arduous and undoubtedly important task of leading the circle and making sure it goes smoothly. Bollocks-talking wise, there was a somewhat restrained effort from the scribe compared to past hashes, which may or may not have been due to residual ethanol from Peace House the previous night, or the wet weather putting a damper on the mood, or even a combination of the two.

There were virgins welcomed, but not slaughtered to honour Kek, Cthulhu, Yahweh, Allah, or the Great Juju Atop The Mountain or any of the thousands of Gods honoured by humanity since the commencement of recorded history.

There were also two third-timers, but due to the length of time between the writing of this report and the May Hash, the only one that the scribe can remember is Irena, who is now known as Dutch Ovens, though the circle did need some prompting by Bad Hobbit before Pussy Rainbow came up with the name.

Interlude

In between the two hashes, a very strange post appeared on the CR Hash Facebook page: “All your Hash are belong to Bad Hobbit”. This was initially suspected by followers of the page to be a hack, the prime suspects being the trolls of 4chan’s /Pol board. However, the fact that there was no extremely dodgy material or inappropriate imagery included in the post, not even a claim that “Hitler Did Nothing Wrong”, quickly excluded the edgelords of the ‘Chans, and eventually Bad Hobbit confessed he had indeed made this shitpost during a fit of apocalyptic-scale boredom, and referenced one of the oldest memes in internet history, “All your Base Are Belong To Us”.

As it has been brought to the scribe’s attention that there are a few normies in the CR hash group with scant knowledge of the oftentimes batshit place that is the internet, he will attempt to explain; “AYBABTU” is a reference to an old arcade game, whose opening cutscene was hilariously badly translated from Japanese to English, yet still has an almost Shakespearean ring to it. For any normies feeling slightly curious, here’s a video showing the scene.

June

The following has been put together the day after the Hash in question, with not a day spared, the scribe attempting and probably failing to compensate for his lackadasicalness and dilligence failure by getting on with it pronto.

The scene was, once again, Frozen Ring’s backyard, the insanely stunning countryside around Wat Huay Pla Kang. This time, there wasn’t any rain, however attendance was still somewhat restrained, with perhaps the odd few hangovers from Jedyod Road the previous night. The scribes account commences outside Mala Bar, the official hangout of the Chiang Rai Hash, but for reasons that cannot be disclosed here, that may well not be the case before long. After an encounter with Frozen Ring and his useful shirt for all things travel-wise, with little pictures everything a guy could need to ask for, up to and including ‘happy endings’ for his massages, the GMs past and present and scribes past and present eventually found the starting point, meeting up with a small group of hashers including the then-named Takes It Up The Butt and her son Alex. Unfortunately, Alex didn’t much like having to be outside and not playing games, and wasn’t shy about letting everyone know. TIUTB had to give Alex what is called in British Army culture a “beasting”, being made to do push-ups as a consequence for his whingeing, which was so irksome it put even Bad Hobbit to shame.

Frozen Ring had been highly dilligent in his trail-setting, which was less in terms of km than previous hashes, but more in the sense of more challenges in terms of hills and grass, which was to remind the scribe more of a Lanna Bush Hash than a tratitional family-friendly Hash, with not only ample hillage, but many instances in which it was necessary to fight through long grass and thick jungle. Unfortunately, the hash photographer returned zero footage this time, though Frozen Ring was highly dilligent in terms of posting preview photography from the trail he set, so anyone wanting to know how it was will have to rely on those, along with their memories and Bad Hobbit’s shitposting on this blog.

The trail started hard, with some huge inclines and challenging checks, however as the hash progressed, it not only got easier, but the rewards for running it quickly became apparent, as views of the rice fields and the Statue of Guayin at Wat Huay Pla Kang were came across. In the front-runner’s party, it started to feel a lot like Mad Max: Beyond Thunderdrome, as the three adult hashers who were running were kept pace with easily by people a third their age (well, a third in the case of Bad Hobbit – for the others, that difference may be slightly more). Though they initially needed a bit of guidance in terms of protocols (like not screaming “on, on” until it’s actually confirmed which way the trail is going), the younglings kept pace easily, and even outpaced some of the frontrunners, including veteran frontrunners who’ve done half-marathons and the Singha Park obstacle course.

They not only provided good competition, but good conversation as well, with Aidan talking for ages to Bad Hobbit about many things news-ey and geo-political, showing himself to be more of a switched-on person than a good many people in the world three or four times his age, or even more. He was also smart enough to not be fooled by Bad Hobbit’s lying about the fact that there were landmines around CR province leftover from the Vietnam war, thus providing a lesson for the other younglings that adults should on no account automatically be believed, as theres a chance they may be full of crap, like Mr Hobbit.

One of the highlights of the trail was the quarry, which opened out onto a next-level amazing view, and during which the frontrunners paused, or at least slowed down, to take it all in. Though during that time Alex just had to start whingeing again, and was threatened by his fellow front-runners with an imposition of more push-ups on behalf of TIUTB.

Finally, after a simple and breezy sprint to the finish, there was barely enough time to sink a couple of Changs or Leos (but no Singhas) before the commencement of the circle, with the outgoing GM doing her thang for one last time. After bidding a warm welcome to first-time Melina, a name was issued to third-timer Mr Grubb, said name being Grubby-Dag, which is an Australian word for bits of dried sheep dung stuck on said animal’s wool around its arse after shearing. Something that has actually made the scribe feel slightly queasy just typing out. Proving that once again, if you want to understand Australian history, culture and general ways, it helps to have a working knowledge of all things sheep.

That over with, TIUTB came out and presumed to demand a new hash name as “Takes It Up The Butt” is not to her liking.

Whilst her request might have been cause, in different circumstances, for a massive down-down at least and being lumbered with a worse name, we did agree that it was a bit long. In fact, in terms of long-windedness, it probably compares to Bad Hobbit’s shitpostings. We thus started taking ideas for new names. Fortunately, Bad Hobbit’s knowledge of the history and all the dark corners of the cybersphere provided the answer: Butt-Hash.

Explanation for the normies: ‘Butt-Hash’ was an internet hoax of several years back, in which kids in some parts of America were said to be capturing the fumes emanating from human excrement in balloons and inhaling it to get high – something that sounds like it could have emanated from the imaginings of one Chris Morris, but was enough to convince enough people in America, and even prompt press releases to be given by Florida sherrif’s departments warning of the dangers of Butt-Hash.

With yet more departures from the ‘Rai set to ensue over the next few months, the only thing left was to nominate a GM and scribe.  Bad Hobbit was unceremoniously dumped in the GM’s chair, and Grubby-Dag is now the new scribe, which will possibly mean this blog will start to look somewhat more professional and more family-friendly, and somewhat less like a shitpostathon on 4chan.org/pol

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