"

 Interaction ban? 

You are the one who posted this. Does that make you the ""admin who imposed the ban"", or would it be someone else? I'm asking because I'm curious what the proper mechanism is (if any) for reporting possible violations of interaction bans. I asked at AN, and they told me to ask the admin who imposed the ban. ← What's up, Doc? carrots→ 
By my recollection, that rfc was re-closed by someone else. (Apparently, when they reverted the closure I had done, they neglected to place their own name on that page you linked to.)
Regardless, afaik, there is no restriction that places one admin solely as responsible for enforcing any user sanctions. And afaik, that's part of  what WP:AN is used for. After all: ""There is always another admin"".  Feel free to link to this response on WP:AN at your discretion. -  
They basically sent me your way, so I'm just going to let it simmer on the back burner for a while longer. ← What's up, Doc? carrots→ 

 Baseball 

As a fan of baseball, I thought you might be interested in this link that I ran across.  |(talk) 
Awesome. Of course, the nature of the game has changed. The current records for ""saves"" were never approached by the old-timers. And that's the other side of the same coin. ← What's up, Doc? carrots→ 

 Richard III  

Now is the winter of our discontent 
Made glorious summer by this sun of York;
And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house 
In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.
Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths; 
Our bruised arms hung up for monuments; 
Our stern alarums changed to merry meetings, 
Our dreadful marches to delightful measures. 
Grim-visaged war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front;
And now, instead of mounting barded steeds 
To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,
He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber
To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.
But I, that am not shaped for sportive tricks,
Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass;
I, that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty 
To strut before a wanton ambling nymph; 
I, that am curtail'd of this fair proportion, 
Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,
Deformed, unfinish'd, sent before my time
Into this breathing world, scarce half made up, 
And that so lamely and unfashionable
That dogs bark at me as I halt by them;
Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,
Have no delight to pass away the time,
Unless to spy my shadow in the sun
And descant on mine own deformity:
And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover, 
To entertain these fair well-spoken days,
I am determined to prove a villain...
   12 May 2014‎: 02:57, 03:08 

Richard II

This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, 
This other Eden, demi-paradise, 
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war, 
This happy breed of men, this little world, 
This precious stone set in the silver sea, 
Which serves it in the office of a wall, 
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands, 
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, 
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, 
Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth, 
Renowned for their deeds as far from home,
For Christian service and true chivalry, 
As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry, 
Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son, 
This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, 
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it, 
Like to a tenement or pelting farm: