You know, I noticed a Facebook "on this day" about beginning my day three years ago by joining in the Holy Worlds birthday celebrations, came here, noticed the confetti, decided to make a thread, and was called away from my computer for twenty minutes ... only to find someone had stolen my thunder, so to speak.
In past years we've had a whole
room of the forum, with "forum games" (some of which are
still going in General Discussion), traditional threads (most notably a virtual "register" to "sign," plus one for characters), and much silliness ... but with the forum and community undergoing what one might call "pangs of rebirth," I suppose a more muted celebration is called for, particularly since even in my mere
three or fourhmm,
five years here at least once if not twice the "birthday celebration" was delayed by at least a month because the organizers forgot about it.

Lt. General Hansen wrote:
SUGAR AND CAFFEINE FOR ALL!!
Just to be obstinate, I shall cry, "Let sense and decorum prevail!"
(Since, as any reader of
The Phantom Tollbooth should know, the slogan "Silence is Golden!" would not lead to any good result.

)
I will make my now-traditional mark here:
A tall young man dressed in black and aster-gold, with a streak of grey in his untidy black hair, hastens distractedly into the room. Glancing at his watch, and narrowly avoiding stepping in a dropped cupcake, he makes his way up to the table, and writes:
Ego, Jonathan (rex-joannes) Lovelace, Poet Chronographusque in Terrae Cycli Candentis, historiae Vaynahimis, Regni Apricitatis, Imperii Candentis Rudisque, et terrae rerumque conexarum, hic in communionem virtualis qui se vocat Mundi Sacri hoc die aniversarii septimi conditii XII a.d. Kalendae October anno Domini MMXVI.(I, Jonathan (kingjon) Lovelace, Poet and Chronicler in Earth of the Shine Cycle, history of Vaynaheim, the Sunshine Kingdom, the Shine and Wild Empire, and associated countries and events, was here in the virtual community calling itself Holy Worlds on the day of the seventh anniversary of its founding, September 20 of the year of our Lord 2016.)
To that legibly-printed paragraph, the young man adds a nearly indecipherable scrawl that must be his name, then a blob of wax which he marks with a silver seal. He then steps back from the table, again blinking a tear from one eye when he sees the notable absences from the room. And in a flash of light, additional text is automatically appended to the page.