Friday, October 1, 2010

Arm Chair Psychologists

My favorite part about the Gorums.

Someone writes something about a topic. Maybe the opinion is controversial, maybe it's not. The funny thing about the Gorums is that people have to read into the statement and infer something about the psychological state of the speaker, instead of taking the comments at face value.

So if someone writes something about the profound joy in slavery, they must be psychologically deluded that comes from some deep traumatic incident in their former love life. Or if someone wants to write about the thrill of dominating a woman, the people must respond that such a sensation only occurs because of some deep seated mommy issues that manifest themselves into gruesome rape fantasies.

It's so utterly bizarre. For instance, I posted two parody pieces on the Gorums- and the automatic reaction is to parse and dissect the meanings behind the parody pieces: what was my motivation for writing them and what am I trying to critique about the larger community? People can't just accept funny things at face value. No, no- they have to dissect and infer all this crap that might or might not be there.

The funny thing, to me anyway, is how terrible they are in the psychological analysis though. Most psychological analysis requires an analytical approach: define the action, attribute to its source, determine what the motivation behind that action is, decide whether the outcome of that action is good or not, connect the outcome of the action with its motivation, and finally explore numerous solutions that provide the best motivation with the best outcome. But it's important to note that each step is seperate from the one previous. You must first define the action and THEN decide whether it's good or bad. You cannot define an action as good or bad.

So...you notice a person is binge eating a lot. That is the action. It is neither good nor bad. Binge eating can be a good thing for someone who is on the verge of starvation and desperately needs calories. Binge eating is a bad thing when a normally healthy person uses it as a device to eventually purge and lose weight. This is why action and motivation are diagnosed as two separate actions. The context changes the meaning.

However, on the Gorums, the prudent diagnosis is to define the action with its motivation: "people that are femlaws are retarded monkeys who have never read a book and ruin Gor." Essentially, being an armchair psychologist on the Gorums means to assume a million and ten things about the statement being analyzed (of which, none are true) and then to slap a meaningless label on the assumptions in order to validate their criticism. To wit, the label femlaw is created as a means to insult people who choose a different play style than others.

It's one thing to be an armchair psychologist and try to break down a series of decisions into its component parts and then analyze the decisionmaking. It's quite another thing to mash all the parts together and slap a label on the whole process. The former is a method that leads towards understanding. The second is just childish and gossip mongering.

I think this is why a lot of people on the Gorums are fundamentally unhappy when they roleplay (well, they either say or imply that they are- it's equally as plausible they're lying just to gain sympathy). They have accumulated this base of knowledge thanks to the groupthink mentality that is perpetrated on the boards (i.e., the more knowledge you acquire, the better rper you become- which isn't true, but it's the myth they like to believe). And then when they try to apply that groupthink into their roleplay lives, they are surprised to discover that no one thinks like them. It's the equivalent of the D&D dorks in elementary school deciding amongst themselves what it means to be cool (creating a high level character, naturally) and then being surprised when they get beat up constantly for showing off their "coolness."

Of course, on the Gorums, it's common knowledge that THEY'RE the cool kids and everyone else is a retard. And you can't dissuade them otherwise because they have a PhD in arm chair psychology at Gorums Grad School.

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Diary of a RL Gorean

Another thing I did a while ago...

* * *

A day in the life of a RL Gorean, on this 8th day of the 12th month of the Uurth Calendar 2007.

I woke this morning and grumpily slid off my comfortable warm bearskin fur. Only a few days before, I was informed that my new slave, formerly named Thena Claxton now known as Vella (as I adhere to the strict Gorean ways, I am only allowed to use names contained within the books and cannot think for myself), recently was expelled from the kajirae training academy I sent her to in the Southern lands. Disappointed, I had mulled my options for the past few days as I arranged her transport back to my authentically Gorean home. As I dined on my breakfast of stale Wonderbread (the closest Uurth equivalent I could find to sa-tarna grain) and Tang (which I surmise would how larma juice would taste like), I decided that I would give my Vella the option of free companionship or death.

After a few ahn, I heard a timid knock on my very Gorean oak door. I opened it up, and saw my disgraced kajira, her silks all frumpled- looking quite despondent.
I commanded her, "my Vella- you have two choices: become my Free Companion...or die." Inexplicably, she looked at me and asked in a mournful voice, "Master, this one chooses to take the physical challenge." I sighed to myself and chose for her as I am RL Gorean and godmod everything in my life, "you are my Free Companion now. It is done, you have your name back Thena Claxton Dovgal. Look, you're even wearing proper FW Gorean clothing now." Such is my command of Gor and its ways- it was true. She was wearing an elegant FW dress.

I desired to travel so I instructed my FC to prepare on a journey. Walking by foot can be tiresome, so Thena and I made our way to the Wagon People of Mazda. I had heard many great things about these people and their commitment to the Gorean ways. I approached one of the Wagon people but did not know his name. Luckily, I am RL Gorean and thus only interact by reading tags- his name tag identified him as Jim. I talked with Jim for a little while, before we agreed on a sale of one of his wagons, made by a Master Builder named Station. I asked Jim if Master Builder Station operated his shop outside of Thentis or Port Kar. Jim told me that my wagon was not built in Japan, but in the land of Ohio. Though I had never heard of such a place, I could only assume it was located somewhere within the Plains of Turia. My FC and I climbed inside our Station Wagon. I did not know how to operate, but Lady Thena indicated she learned to operate one at the academy. Though I am Gorean in all ways, I reluctantly allowed her to operate the wagon.

Within moments, Lady Thena had navigated our way through the perlious streets of RL Gor and we found ourselves passing a place with an identification sign "K-Mart." Being RL Gorean, I clapped my hands an commanded my FC, "Halt, my intended. There is the marketplace of Port Kar and I wish to rest and drink!" Lady Thena looked at me as if I had just farted (the smelly kind), and nodded slowly, "yes, my Lord. Right away." Within seconds, I alighted from our Wagon of the Station and wrote a note on a piece of parchment I brought, intending to send it to my dear friend Tarl, Ambassador of Port Kar. I looked around for a messenger bird as there are always several hundred randomly flying around the skies, waiting to be plucked from the air- yet I found none. I frowned and whistled for my tarn, sure that it would hear me and send my message...yet after waiting for many ehn, my tarn did not come. I looked up into the sky and thought perhaps the Priest Kings were punishing me for purchasing such a fine wagon and decided to enter the city unannounced, Lady Thena in tow.

As we found the entrance, I growled at Lady Thena, "greet, my intended or I shall place you back in my collar. My FC should have proper manners." Lady Thena nodded quickly and began to greet the mass of people one at a time with a "Tal Sir" here and a "Tal Lady" there. Here a "Tal Sir," there a "Tal Sir," everywhere a "Tal Lady." Needless to say, within 45 seconds, Lady Thena lost the faculties of her voice and was no longer able speak. I frowned at her as I am RL Gorean, commenting, "what did they teach you at Academy? You have displeased me, my intended." I pulled her by the shoulder and led her inside the magical gates of what could only be the market of Port Kar- what else could K-Mart stand for?

As we entered, a lady with a curious red frock waved at us and cheerfully announced, "Greetings travelers!" I looked at her with some disdain before responding, "Tal..." I looked at her tag, "...tal Carla. What is your purpose here in Port Kar?" Carla looked at me with some surprise- perhaps she had never seen a true Gorean male and instinctively knew her place was at my feet- and answered, "oh hun, I'm the K-Mart greeter!" I nodded and held out my hand, "then pass me the laws of your realm, Lady. I desire to act according to the laws as written by your Ubar." Carla looked at me astonished- I mused to myself perhaps the Ubar had fallen in combat- and asked me, "oh, do you want Customer Service to get warranty information?" I began getting angry- a woman talking back to a RL Gorean??!!! I reached into my pockets and withdrew a collar, snarling at her, "unless you wish to be locked in my steel, I wish an audience with your Ubar...NOW!" Carla stared at me dumbfounded- I knew by the way she looked (because I was RL Gorean), that she viewed the collar with longing. She turned to another lady in a red frock and asked her, "Hey, Chantelle darlin'- do you know if there's an Ubar working down in jewelry or customer service? I think this guy wants to return that bracelet." Chantelle looked at the collar in my hand and remarked, "DAAAAMNN son. That's one crunk-ass lookin' bracelet. Yo lady must've dun sumthin' off da hook to get dat! But nah, Omar be working down in Electronics today." Carla nodded in understanding and relayed the information to me, "oh I'm sorry hun, but Omar's not working in Customer Service. But Chantelle here could probably help you out." I scoffed at her, "a woman holding council with me, a RL Gorean?!! I once thought Port Kar was a glorious Gorean city, but spare me your Disney ways, foul wench." Carla shook her head and exclaimed, "OH! Disney toys are Aisle 8 in the back, sweetheart. Have a fine day shopping at K-Mart!"

I grumbled to myself and grabbed my voiceless FC and headed to the nearby tavern of this once-great city of Port Kar, though it was called a name I did not feel was Gorean- McDonalds? "Come, Lady Thena- I shall get a drink here." I stood at the entrance of this tavern and waited for a tavern slut to approach me and offer me service. Seeing that there was none in sight, I approached a man I believed to be the tavernkeeper, "Tavernkeeper, I require the services of your finest slut." The man stared back at me and replied cooly, "watch your mouth, Sir. Approach the counter and any of of my staff will be willing to help you." I considered drawing my sword and challenging him to an honor duel right then and there, but having not yet read the laws of this realm, I decided to use caution and heed his advice, "very well, Sir. But speak to a RL Gorean like that again, and you will taste the steel of my blade!" I thought the man rolled his eyes at me, but if he did- it was because he feared a RL Gorean. I approached the counter, and reading the tag again, was served by a wench wearing the most bizarre silks and was given a peculiar slave name of "Juanita." I looked directly at this Juanita and announced my order, "greetings, wench. I wish for cold sul paga and a plate of verr cheese and sa-tarna bread." Juanita looked at me and asked, "Que?" I growled at her and banged my fist on the counter, "I do NOT repeat myself, wench! Paga and cheese now!" She looked at me again with bewilderment and asked, "Quarter Pounder with Cheese? Would you like supersize?" I sighed and retrieved the collar once more, "Nay, I do not want your disney foods. Sul paga now!" Clearly, this was a slut in training as she asked again, "Quieres numero cinco? With Sprite?" Angrily, I spit on the ground, opened the collar and tried shoving it around her neck...except, the collar wouldn't fit around her neck. I furrowed my brow in frustration as I tried to force the collar around the slut's neck...but it wouldn't fit? What was happening? In the books, a woman could fit into any collar, but here- this woman's neck was too big for the collar I purchased? I howled, "this is so INVALID. You are CHEATING!" Juanita jumped back in fright at my actions and began screaming at the top of her lungs, "POLICIA, POLICIA!!!" I reached for the dagger at my hilt, preparing for combat- a RL Gorean does not fear a fight. However, Lady Thena had other ideas and ran like her dress was on fire and left the building. Deciding my FC was more important than a fight with a bunch of Disney, invalid Guards of Port Kar, I decided to leave myself.

Now, I am back at home pagaless, slutless and in search of my tarn...I keep whistling but it never comes. Well, I shall sleep well in my furs tonight and prepare for another day, as I am RL Gorean...

A Day in the Life of a Goron...

Something I did a while ago...

* * *

The names have been changed to protected the criminally uncreative:

[16:59] Arrival: Aashe Dovgal
[16:59] Object: Aashe Dovgal, Welcome to Port Gor! Please read the rules before continuing your journey
[17:00] Aashe Dovgal steps off the gangplank of the arriving boat and scans the dock area- looking for the exit and path towards the city.
[17:01] Panther LeBored: Tal MALE
[17:02] Aashe Dovgal looks down between his legs and adjusts his trousers to ensure everything is, indeed, in place. He looks back to the panther and replies, "Thanks for noticing."
[17:02] Panther LeBored: That was an insult, MALE! *growls*
[17:03] You: it's only an insult if I'm embarrassed about being male, and I'm pretty well hung so I consider it a compliment. Thanks.
[17:04] Panther LeBored: you would look good in a collar, MALE *smirks*
[17:06] Aashe Dovgal untucks the book from underneath the crook of his arm and places the thesaurus in the panther's palm. He leans towards her, clasping her fingers tightly around the leather bindings and instructs her, "learn to read, finish this book cover to cover so you can expand your vocabulary of insults and get back to me. THEN, I might submit."
[17:06] Aashe Dovgal steps off the docks and briskly walks toward the city gates.

//IMs:
[17:07] Panther LeBored: HEEEEY!!!!!
[17:07] Panther LeBored: Too bad, you look pretty hot *waggles eyebrows*
[17:08] Aashe Dovgal continues walking into the city.
[17:08] Panther LeBored: Your loss. I'll have you know, I'm quite good in the furs.
[17:08] You: I'm better.
[17:10] Panther LeBored: Capture me sometime, ok?
//

[17:08] Aashe Dovgal arrives at the city gates. Seeing them closed, he rings the bell outside the gates to call for a Guard
[17:09] Carl Clueless: Tal stranger. Name and homestone.
[17:09] You: My name is Mickey from Rovecardophronagaard. I'm here to see Full O'Himself, the Ubar.
[17:09] Carl Clueless: Oh.
[17:12] Aashe Dovgal twiddles his thumbs, looking at the motionless Warrior. He claps his hands loudly to see if the man is still alive...and it appears he is not since there is no reaction.
[17:16] Aashe Dovgal watches a bird swoop down inside the Guard's trousers and tear off the man's penis to deliver it to his kajira. Aashe isn't sure whether he should gasp in horror at the sight or applaud the bird for its immense talent. While thinking about this, he notices Sally Scribe open the gate and walk inside the city...so he quickly follows her.


[17:18] Slave1 whispers to sissy- "girl is SO bored!" ~giggles~
[17:20] Aashe Dovgal arrives at the tavern. He leans against the doorway for a moment and eyes the two slaves gossiping amongst one another while he waits for them to greet him.
[17:20] Slave1: Greetings Master
[17:20] Slave2: greetings Master
[17:20] You: Greetings girls
[17:21] Slave1: May girl serve you, Master?
[17:22] You: As a matter of fact, you can. I see that the kajira that served a man over in that corner earlier today didn't swallow. Go clean it up since I really don't want to look at it any longer.
[17:22] Slave1: Master?
[17:22] You: Yes? Was I unclear?
[17:24] Slave1: No Master. May girl be excused? Her Master is calling.
[17:25] Aashe Dovgal turns to his left and begins emphatically shaking the air next to him. "Tal, Sir! Is this your kajira? It is?! She's very well suited for you- takes right after you. Why do I say that? She's about as vapid as you are and her head is similar to yours. Yes, that's right- full of air. I'm glad you found a perfect match, it IS hard to find a girl that matches your personality, but you did well. Great find, Sir...enjoy your time with her."
[17:26] You: You may go with your Master, girl. He's been kind enough to pick you up. Heel to him and leave.

//In IMs
[17:26] Slave1: YOU JACKASS!! I'll have you know my Master DID IM and told me to go shopping for silks. And he's my Master, you're not, so I listen to him first. ALWAYS! Piss off!
[17:27] You: Oh, I didn't know that. Let me IM him to apologize...
[17:27] You: what a pity- he seems to have crashed. He is offline at the moment
[17:28] Slave1: YOU ASS! It is people like you that ruin Gor. Why don't you just leave and take your stupid ass out of here and never come back!
[17:28] Slave1: I'm best friends with the admin and I'm going to have him BAN YOUR ASS. How do you like that now, jerk?
[17:29] You: When your Master comes back online, please have him IM me so I can loan him the money to buy you a new tiara. Until then, goodbye.
//

[17:28] Aashe Dovgal looks at Slave2 and remarks, "and are you too afraid to serve me as well?"
[17:29] Slave2: Oh no, Master! How may this tavern slut serve you?
[17:29] You: Wait, you're a tavern slut?
[17:30] Slave2: Yes, Master. Are you not pleased with me?
[17:30] You: No, it's not that. It's just that I expected a tavern slut to act, you know...slutty. I didn't know tavern sluts acted like boulders.
[17:31] Slave2: Oh. *thinks hard* What would Master like me to do?
[17:31] You: um, act sluttier?
[17:32] Slave2: Yes, Master. And how would you like me to act sluttier?
[17:33] You: You know, all these questions really don't help. Do you normally get furred, girl?
[17:33] Slave2: No Master.
[17:34] You: How shocking.
[17:35] Slave2: Perhaps if I danced for you Master? Would you like that?
[17:37] Aashe Dovgal strokes his chin thoughtfully for a moment and looks back at the girl, "That would be fine. However, I do not want to see your ruby red lips, your emerald orbs, I don't want to notice your pillowy breasts, juicy ass or sun kissed thighs. If you mention any of these things, I'll simply leave. Is that clear?"
[17:38] Slave2: I don't understand, Master. What am I supposed to do?

//In IMs
[17:38] Slave2: Master, what have I done wrong? PLEASE tell me!
[17:39] You: hmm?
[17:39] Slave2: Master, please tell me what you want.
[17:40] You: I want to see your creativity and personality through your roleplay.
[17:41] Slave2: And how should I do that, Master?
[17:42] You: Um...I think I hear my Master calling. Got to leave. Goodbye.
//

[17:43] Aashe Dovgal strolls through the town square and happens upon a shirtless man clad in black, standing next to a rather voluptuous female adorned in an elegant purple gown. He stops a few feet behind them and thrusts his hands in his pocket, keeping a safe distance not to disturb them, but orients his body towards the pair to indicate that he wishes to join in conversation.
[17:44] Carla Collarbait: Tal Sir
[17:44] Badass Dudeface: Tal Bro
[17:45] You: Tal. Please continue, I don't mean to interrupt.
[17:49] You: Seriously, please keep talking. Pretend I'm not here. I'm just catching the sights of the city. Look, I'll even move away some.
[17:53] You: Um, well. I guess I'll talk. This is a pretty nice city. Do you know if finches fly this far north during the springtime?
[17:55] Badass Dudeface: Carla, you'd look soooo good in my collar. I bet you're a total slut!
[17:56] Carla Collarbait: OH Sir! Please! I am a FW!
[17:57] Badass Dudeface: HAHAHAHAHAHA
[17:57] You: so that's a no on the finches?
[17:58] Carla Collarbait: Hmmph, even if I DID submit to you, you'd just ignore me anyway...
[17:59] Badass Dudeface: Shut up, slut! Kneel to me now! HAHAHAHA
[17:59] Badass Dudeface: LMAO
[18:00] Aashe Dovgal points up the sky and continues babbling, "so like...there are birds in the sky. They flap their wings. Some of them even deliver messages, I hear. Yeah, birds. There's a type of bird called finches. I hear they migrate."
[18:01] Carla Collarbait: I will NOT kneel. Anyway, I think Full O'Himself, the Ubar, is totally into me. He smiled at me yesterday. And don't forget Paul Pwnface, the First Sword. Oh if he saw that YOU collared me, would he get upset! So I don't think you can collar me.
[18:02] Carla Collarbait: And if you want to collar me so much, you'll have to catch me. *Runs*
[18:03] Badass Dudeface: oh shit lol
[18:03] Badass Dudeface: draw bow
[18:04] Aashe Dovgal rocks back and forth on his heels as he continues to stare up at the sky, pretending to be oblivious to what just happened, "Finches. Birds. Pretty. Spring. Yeah..." He smacks his lips together, creating a loud popping sound and surveys the city. Seeing nothing of interest, he decides to leave and light himself on fire when he gets home.

[18:10] Carl Clueless: HEY!!!
[18:12] You: Yes? Nice city you have.
[18:13] Carl Clueless: Name and homestone, stranger.
[18:13] You: Oh, I was just leaving- so...it's not even important.
[18:14] Carl Clueless: I SAID name and homestone, stranger. Do not test me or I will cap your ass.
[18:15] You: Seriously, I'm leaving so don't even worry about it.
[18:16] Carl Clueless: Last warning, stranger. And if you want to enter the city, leave your weapons by the gate.
[18:17] You: I really don't want to enter the city, so I'm taking my weapons and homestone with me.
[18:18] Aashe Dovgal leans down and picks up a pebble from the ground and rubs it reverently, pretending it was a precious homestone.
[18:19] Carl Clueless shouts: WARRIORS, ALERT!! AASHE DOVGAL HAS STOLEN OUR HOMESTONE! KILL HIM!!!

Tuesday, April 20, 2010

Starter Kit

I was having a conversation with a friend on what people need to know before they start roleplaying in Gor. She insisted that reading of the books is mandatory since that's the only way to properly understand the environment. As always, I call bullshit. Not only is the source text impenetrable (read: boring), but many people don't have fabulous reading comprehension. One person can read the books and decide that slavery is inherently romantic and erotic. Another can read the same text and conclude that slavery is dreary, extremely depressing and completely hopeless. These are diametrically opposed viewpoints and are both plausible interpretations (I tend to fall into the second camp, but there's no denying that the concept of slavery as portrayed by the books is hopelessly optimistic).

So, this begs the question: what materials would I suggest a noob read/look into before learning Gor?

Well, here's my suggested source material for someone learning how to be a warrior:

Goodfellas: The caste system works essentially like a mafia organization. So long as you pledge loyalty to your caste and follow the rules (written, like "no snitching," and unwritten, like "no fucking any wives, girlfriends or ex-girlfriends of anyone in the family), you can do anything you want and the caste will back you up. Break the rules or loyalty...and you'll end up like Tommy. There are no second chances or lesser punishments. Play the game the right way and you get rewarded. Step out of line and you get whacked. It's that simple.

The Wire (Seasons 1-3 in particular): The game is the game. You can do anything you want to anyone within the game, so long as you respect the rules of the game (like the truce on Sundays). Civilians outside of the games are treated with respect, anything can happen within the game and no one will get mad. The only thing to remember is that everyone has their role and everyone has to stay within that role. The king is the king; the pawns are the pawns. And that's how it is.

Klingon Empire (video relevance from 7:12 onward): Honor has nothing to do with morality but is simply the word used to describe physical prowess and a particular attitude towards combat. An honorable man is one who is self-sufficient and successful in combat, not someone who believes and adheres to some altruistic identity. But, as the video points out, honor used in this way is also completely malleable. A warrior beyond everything else, is concerned about being perceived as honorable. And because of this inherent desire to seem strong and infallible, he can essentially be manipulated to do anything.

Personally, I think that's about all you need to know to really understand the Gorean warrior: he's a cross between a mafioso and a Klingon. That would mean the essential characteristics of the stereotypical Gorean warrior are:
  • Someone in peak physical condition who is well versed in fighting
  • Someone who prefers hand-to-hand physical combat that emphasizes strength and brutality over agility and swiftness.
  • Someone who is well accomplished in battle (i.e., killed a lot of men and/or risked death to make some heroic gesture like defend a hopeless position or recklessly endanger his own life to save the lives of others)
  • Someone who would rather fight to the death than retreat or surrender
  • Someone who never snitches or betrays anyone in his family (be it his personal blood relatives or anyone in his caste). Or if he betrays someone, he is a) successful and b) has enough political influence to avoid being punished for it
  • Doesn't try to punish or kill anyone outside the "game." That means, he carries a big stick but never willingly uses it against a civilian unless he absolutely has to. However, he will have little to no patience to anyone inside the game. So if another warrior pisses him off, he'll draw his sword before trying to resolve the issue through words
  • Someone who willingly plays the pawn (since this person will be a new character, he will be a grunt in the army, not a well respected officer). That means that the pawn pledges loyalty to his superiors and does everything that is asked of him...no questions.
There are probably a lot of nuances that have not been covered, but I think that about covers the larger issues: someone who is head strong, has no principles except what is told to him, is exceedingly loyal, never questions authority, and excessively violent.

And I am able to demonstrate all those lessons using Youtube clips, rather than having someone hunt and peck through 20+ books to glean a phrase here and there. I think the level of comprehension is about the same.

Monday, March 1, 2010

Definitional Disco

Another rant.

I wonder why I even bother to post to the gorums some times. The level of discourse is...beyond retarded.

I like to joke with my friends that the gorums is internet talk radio. And it totally is. People like to dispense their opinions, but try to push them as "topics," or "conversations" or, my favorite, "education."

Education is learning how to do something: learning different styles of writing, how to filter information you can react and what you can't, so on and so forth. Education generally tries to push people towards a productive end. Education on the forums starts with a post of "I hate this. What do you think?" Well, the only place that "conversation" can go is yes/no. Half the people will say yes, half the people will say no. Everything else is just posturing and spinning in circles. Opinions simply don't spur education; it just creates a heated bar fight (albeit, sometimes fun, but fun is not educational).

Occasionally though, I think there is a topic which either poses something interesting or there's a person who I think has sufficient intellect and can have a rational conversation. I don't have to play the game where we have to pretend that our opinions are educational. I guess I was wrong.

I think what frustrates me the most about the conversations is that, if someone does wish to engage on the merits of the conversation, it ultimately gets bogged down into what I commonly refer to as "definitional disco." As in, someone uses a word to define something that only includes actions that are good, creates another word to define a series of actions are bad, throws their support behind the good definition, pins their opponent to the bad word and...cue the spinning circles arguments.

Typists that express their character's thoughts in roleplay is generally referred to as thoughtmoting (from the combination of thought + emote, so it essentially means expressing thoughts in ways that are not dialogue).

Except on the forums, we have to create two words. One is narrative, which is all the types of thoughtmotes that produce good roleplay results (i.e., when someone uses thought expressions to add to the background, their character's thought process and helps create a more immersive scene). The other is thoughtmote, where someone uses thinking actions to ruin the roleplay atmosphere (by making snarky, insulting comments directed not at the character, but the typist).

Functionally, these two words refer to the EXACT SAME THING. Both are expressing thoughts in non-dialogue ways. It's just we have the defined the words to be result-oriented. Things that we like are narrative, things we don't are stupid thoughtmotes. And because the words are result-oriented, no one can agree to a common definition: what someone views as immersive may not seem immersive to another. And then you get a lot of people who shouting over one another, when they actually are in substantial agreement.

The situation that prompted this post was the term "notecarded chores." To me, the obvious definition is simply recording a roleplay action onto a notecard. Simple and uncomplicated. But no, apparently, the term "notecarded chores" must refer to situations wherein the only purpose for creating the notecard is to metagame (i.e., the person requesting the notecard places demands on the notecard writer on what must be produced). Sometimes you can use the word "notecard" and people won't go apeshit. And sometimes you can use the word "chores" and people won't go into a tizzy. But don't you ever dare to combine those words, because then the shit hits the fan. Apparently, the correct wording is "roleplay logs." Say roleplay logs instead of notecarded chores and no one gets upset. The only problem is....IT'S THE EXACT SAME FUCKING THING. A roleplay log can be a notecarded chore and a notecarded chore can be a roleplay log!! There's no logical reason why we have to create a totally different nomenclature for the exact same fucking phenomena!!

It's so fucking stupid. It's like when politicians have to spin a tax increase as a "revenue adjustment" or something equally retarded. I just assume that everyone realizes that the politician is making a token change to make his action sound less stupid. That everyone would realize what the action actually is. Apparently, I give people more credit than they deserve. The politician apparently does it because there is a large enough segment of the population that is apparently dumb enough to fall for the ruse. Which just happens to be the same segment of the population that visits the Gorums.

I'm not done with the Gorums. There are portions of it that serve a genuinely beneficial and productive purpose. And I know, because I have a hypercompetitive personality, that eventually someone will say something so monumentally fucking stupid that I can't restrain myself from responding (it will most likely be Aseptimus trying to explain what the law says. Every time that man tries to explain the law, somewhere in the world, a lawyer makes partner because of his complete ignorance at what the law actually is).

But blargh.

I hate how I allow myself to get roped into these "conversations," get into these "definitional discos" and the masses aren't even slightly put off by the fact that the very crux of their problem is holding onto these definitions that don't make any fucking sense. No, they want to create even more words and lingo to make their world so nice and easy. It just can't be roleplay. No, we have to have BtB roleplay and Gor Evolved roleplay, even though we have no idea what the fuck either of those terms mean. No, we can't have roleplayers (i.e., all those that desire to make the character and typist separate entities) and lifestylers (those who don't care to). We also have to have soulplayers, and storytellers, and moleplayers and god knows what the fuck else. And no one has any clue what any of these other categories mean either, except they have to exist since the words roleplayer or lifestyler can't adequately describe the differing roleplay experiences people have.

Memo to you nimrods: you are either one or the other. It doesn't mean to be a roleplayer, you must always keep character and typist (or in common parlance, IC/OOC) separate. It's just that, given a choice, you want to keep them separate. People who fail to keep IC/OOC seperate don't magically unbecome roleplayers and suddenly become lifestylers. It is possible for people to make mistakes and fuck up every once in a while. You see, words aren't defined by their outcomes because...that would be retarded. Words whose meaning depend on their result...can't have definitions. And that means you can't use them in a conversation and expect the conversation to be productive or rational...because you're not being rational!!! Defining a word that requires perfection isn't rational. It...ah hell, there I go again. I need to stop.

Double blargh.

Rant off.