Cantus ad Sanctum Bobum

O Bob, who art in Class Six,
Hallowed be thy anomaly.
Thy collapse come,
Thy will be done,
In high mass and lowsec alike.

Give us this day our daily static,
And forgive us our drift
As we forgive those
Who warp cloaked through our sites.
And lead us not into cyno traps,
But deliver us from the nullbears.

For thine is the wormhole,
And the mass, and the rage log,
Forever and ever,
Unless it’s rolled.
Amen.


O Bob, divine scheduler of timers,
Thou who cloaks the Watch Tower of forgotten bookmarks,
Look not upon our sins of dual-prop fit,
Nor our cowardice in rolling high-mass solo.
Grant us the strength to tackle with ECM,
And the wisdom to not engage in an Astero.

Let thy holy rage consume the pod-warpers,
May your wrath ever burn against
The Prober who doth scan in a Buzzard,
Yet bookmarks nothing.

May your chains be fresh,
Your holes be virgin,
Your loot be plentiful,
And your enemies unscanned.
In Bob’s glorious name,
Let the holy jump commence.

In nomine Bob, collapsi, et sancti Polarisu, Amen.