Thoronmir  

Known as the world's oldest OOTer, Thorny is a complex man. He is a practicing lawyer, much like Satan and on his free time, he drinks bourbon and counsels young women with father issues. Thorny has vast amounts of money and a very mysterious life. It is rumored that he is, in fact, a caveman lawyer.

Thorny's postings are generally intricate. Among the main categorizations of postings include the following:

Sexually themed Postings of a Bon Vivant: Thorny's sex life is like a confidential informant to the police ... always anonymous and usually involves someone doing something they're not really comfortable doing just to exact revenge or because they're scared.

Lawyering Sorry, but the Legal Department cannot approve this message unless it carries a legal disclaimer and/or warning label emphasizing that said "bewbs" must not include pictures of "man boobs," unless said depiction of "man boobs" includes a commensurate amount of actual (i.e., female) bewbage. An equal ratio of male to female bewbosity in a single image is acceptable, but we'll "ewww" you less if you stick to chick bewbs. Also, the boys in Research wanted us to require a notice that any pictures of trannies must be "post-op."

Subject to the above caveats, we say stick it!

Okay, apparently the proper phrase is "sticky it" and not "stick it" ... so, um, go ahead and, um, put it up there.

/sigh Doug in Accounting says that "put it up there" has a Nix-like innuendo that is inappropriate for this message. So forget we said "put it up there" and let's just go with "post Belkira's post at the top of the page."

Well f*ing Jesus Christ in a poodle skirt! Now I'm told that it's redundant to ask the Admins to "post a post" and we need to find some other way to say this ... f*ck it ... someone just sticky her goddam FAQ!

Jokes and other witticisms A blonde woman and her husband were asleep when the phone rang at 2:00 in the morning. The wife picked up the phone, listened a moment and said, "How should I know, that's 200 mile s from here!" and hung up. The husband asked, "Who was that?" The wife said, "I don't know! It was some woman wanting to know if the coast is clear."

Disgruntled Thorny and his Erotic Wall of Multisyllabic Words I am not some dancing bear in this circus that you can goad into trotting out and performing for your entertainment. My wit and humor are not wired to switches that can be turned "On" or "Off" at your whim. To quote my ten-year-old nephew ... you, sir, are not the boss of me. I have reviewed several of the threads at the top of page one to see what the yokels are discussing this fine day, eager to rain my amusing observations on you like a golden shower of pith (and, no, I do not write with a lisp). Unfortunately, none of your cretinous topics inspire me ... blame the muse, not the poet.

What it is like to be an old man Um, actually, I think that describes me ... I've been around since before Christ, I have a hoary beard, and as for the "Icy Cow," I offer Exhibit A ... Fiancee #3.

Correcting your inferior grammar and spelling I heard the Admins said that they locked "I'm in Hell" as a lesson to people who hyphenate words that are not hyphenated and don't know the difference betweem "too" and "to" ... at least, that's the word on the street according to Huggy Bear.

Discussions about MMORPGs I feel compelled to share my sad tale. It is a poorly kept secret among my friends that, for the past few months, I have been engaged in an ardent love affair with Tami, the woman who keeps vigil between the Auction House and Residences in Bastok Mines. It all began months ago when was I young Warrior just embarking on my career as an Adventurer. Tami stopped me in the street one day and asked if I could perform a small service for her. Chivalry demanded that I assist her, so I agreed.

My task was to deliver a note to Tami's husband, Zellman, in the Zeruhn Mines. It seems that Zellman never left the mines and Tami was feeling neglected. I found Tami's absentee husband and delivered Tami's note. I was shocked when Zellman just grunted some acknowledgment of Tami's concerns and instructed me to deliver some "meat jerky" to Tami. Somewhat unsure how to proceed, I finally resolved to follow Zellman's instruction and did, indeed, deliver the "meat jerky" to Tami.

Tami seemed so elated to have a man's attention that she gave me a small gift ... a Rabbit Mantle. Thereafter, we spoke often as I jogged from my modest residence to the Auction House and back. Soon, our friendship had grown into something more intense, more intimate. Still, Zellman refused to leave the mines, so Tami and I embarked on our secret tryst. Life was good during those salad days. I had progressed in my martial training and began hunting in local areas of Gustaberg, Dangruf Wadi, and even the Konschtat Highlands. Always, I would return to Bastok to find my love waiting to greet me at the very spot where we first met.

Soon, however, my adventures took me to distant lands ... Valkurm Dunes, Qufim Isle, and the jungles near Kazham. I grew used to spending weeks in the field at a time, earnestly striving to improve Bastok's standing among its rival nations. My sojourns to Bastok grew less and less frequent. Still, I visited Tami whenever I could. But I could tell something had changed.

My suspicions proved true when a young recruit in my Linkshell inquired about where to find Tami. It seems he had been told that she rewarded young adventurers who performed services for her. I rebuffed his assertion as misinformation spread among the inexperienced youth of Bastok. But, many of my fellow Linkshell members swore that they, too, had delivered "meat jerky" to my sweet Tami. Each of them claimed to know even more adventurers who had delivered "meat jerky" to my beloved. "After all," one of my friends queried, "Where do you think we all got these Rabbit Mantles?"

I was stunned. I hurried back to Bastok and confronted my love. After a teary exchange of accusations and denials, she finally confessed. She had taken "meat jerky" from many, many adventurers, both before and after me. In fact, I believe a young rogue delivered his "meat jerky" to her while I was standing there. It broke my heart.

So ended my love for the woman I now call "The Harlot of Bastok" ... a woman with an insatiable appetite for "meat jerky" ... regardless of its source (although she seems hesitant to deal with newly arrived visitors from San d'Orien or Windurst). The numbness that grips my heart has sapped me. I find myself unable to eat most days ... my appetite returning only when battling monsters in the Highlands as I develop my newly acquired Ninja skills. Even then, I barely nibble at my Mithkabob. I hear others speak of their wedding plans with their respective loves and I feel hollow, reminded always of what might have been.

I dread the awkwardness that will envelop me when I next return to Bastok, certain that I shall find Tami standing post at the very street corner where we met. Someday, I hope, I will manage the courage to spare her some kind words. Until then, I will focus my anger on whatever creature stands in my path.

Sexually Exciting PWNAGE**

There is an inherent incongruity in those two statements.

Of course videogames are "real" ... but only to the extent that they affect what happens at the user end. What occurs in-game is not "reality." I could sit in my chair and imagine a world with a greed-based economy, emotion-driven relationships, and a vibrant cycle of life and death (and, indeed, I often have), but that does not make my imaginary world any version of "reality."

One could argue that the accomplishments in a videogame are just as meritorious as those in the real world since they reflect an investment of time and effort directed towards achieving a specific goal. One could also say the same thing about picking your nose. You invest time and effort directed towards achieving the specific goal of retrieving that booger, and you accomplished your mission with flying colors! HUZZAH! Picking a booger is just as good as earning a college degree! Turns out my mother was wrong.

When played properly, Monopoly has all the elements of "reality" you cited in support of WoW. Plus, I get to be a thimble and not some silly elf. A good session of Chutes and Ladders has more violence, strategy, and emotion than any WoW raid. Unlike WoW, the game Life even has procreation, however, it's been years since I've tried to actually cash out those little stock certificates that come with the game.

Regardless how advanced the technology may become, all you've really done when you play an MMO is sit in your chair for a few hours developing carpal tunnel syndrome. You haven't slaughtered the Orcs, saved the Princess, or managed to destroy the One Ring. And trust me, I am not one to condemn sitting on one's ass. On April 28, I plan to sit on my ass for 15 hours straight while I watch the NFL Draft.

The reason your "abstract mental discussion" is such a raging non-starter is that you blithley skip over the most critical point. The environment in which your accomplishments take place does not exist. You focus on sensory stimuli to define "reality," yet that only creates a subjective reality. I, for one, have seen, heard, smelled, and tasted things that were not really there. The fact that I perceived them did not make them real ... it made me a little screwed up. Now, if you insist on limiting the definition of reality to one's personal perceptions, then you can cobble together an argument that WoW is "real" to you ... just like any psychotic views his world as "real."

As long as your WoW deeds take place in a virtual environment, they will remain part of a virtual reality.