Ah, the time has come to shut down entries on our Doom giveaway and choose a winner but you lot have outdone yourselves and I've got a handful of entries that leave me giggling like a little schoolgirl that I just don't have the heart to choose between. As you may recall I asked people to send me an email explaining why the web-monkey's utter dominance of me in first person shooters is actually a sign that he is weak and feeble minded with th ebest explanation taking home a Doom t-shirt to call their own. So here's what I'm gonna do ... I'm going to post the top three entries here and let the web-monkey choose his own poison ... so here we go:
From Brandon Quek:
Simple. You're gracious enough to let Dave win and pity him enough to allow him to live out his compensation fantasies in the only way he is capable: video games. Mack does it for me all the time. Since Dave finds his life, his abilities, and mental capacities so mind-numbingly subpar and dissapointing, he tries to compensate that by being good at his own male fantasy, shooting things with big guns because he doesn't have big guns in real life, and dominating in virtual reality because he obviously does not in the real world. It's like giving a small man a gun: in reality he is no more powerful or taller, but he feels the need and ability to push bigger people around since he is hiding behind a piece of metal. And you, Todd my friend, are a big man.
Yes, you Todd could easily squash Dave like bug by stepping on him or schooling his virtual ass like a 733t, but that would rip away the only thing Dave feels good at. Without his premise of video game domination to shield him from harsh reality, Dave would no doubtably retreat into social and spiritual seclusion, shivering in the dark damp corners of his tattered life, finding sympathy only in the writings of Albert Camus and the fact that life is indeed meaningless and hope is something to be feared. But you Todd are a nice guy. Standing like Christ, you humbly lay down and sacrifice your pride and video game skills to let Dave have this last shred of dignity. Only by your gracious actions do you allow Dave to live the life he does with some sense of pride that he could do something right. You, Todd, are a Holy Man. You should smile as a father does when he lets his son win at softball in the backyard.
Therefore, it is because of your grace and kindness that you allow Dave to win and continue on in his life sustaining fantasy. I've summarized the formulas below.
1) pitiful existence = (weak + feeble minded)
2) webmonkey = Dave = video game whore
3) grace = -(pitiful existence)
4) Todd = big = video game skill
5) video game skill - grace = video game whore
6) therefore, Dave = video game skill - grace = video game skill + pitiful existence
7) if you remove the Todd variable you get: Dave - Todd = video game skill + pitiful existence - video game skill
8) therefore, Dave = pitiful existence
9) threfore, Dave = weak + feeble minded
QED
It is concluded that without the actions of Todd, Dave lives a pitiful existence and thus is weak and feeble minded.
Humbly submitted,
Brandon Quek
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From Blake Martin:
Dearest and most sagacious Todd:
A simple review of the current understanding of the functioning of the brain will be enough to demonstrate why web-monkey has not yet evolved to a full web-human, let alone a web-Todd.
1) web-monkey is operating mostly in the reptilian brain. This is the part that makes us eat, hump and kill things. Yes, you have one too Todd, but your frontal cortex is developed to the point where you understand more complex issues...like compassion, art, love and ego-stroking. The monkster is operating at the level of a crocodile with a developmental delay. You are operating at the level of a Descartes or Da Vinci. In a death match, I would always choose the croc over Da Vinci, but I would much rather have Da Vinci over for dinner.
2) web-monkey is limited to the highly visual-spatial right hemisphere of the brain. While this side of the brain normally also houses the emotions, it is obvious that some sort of right hemispheric brain-injury or congenital problem has robbed him of his ability to feel remorse at killing, but has left his visual-spatial accuity untouched. This condition can be found in some pathological killers. Equally, he seems unable to use the left-analytical portion of his brain.
You, Todd, on the other hand, have access to the left analytical side of your brain as well. You are able to play out the complexities of the situation, and are likely engaged in a more full-brain range of thinking. This is great for being homo sapiens, but less good for winning video games.
If you need a bibliography to go along with that I can get it for you.
cheers
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From Miles Kinnee:
Well, the answer is a simple one Todd.
It is because he has a tiny penis. Because of this tiny penis, he is not constantly gettin' his groove on with sexy ladies, like you or I. But instead gets his groove on with his game machine of choice, taking out on his sexual frustrations on the poor little on screen fellas.
It has proabbly gone on for years.
In fact, I heard a funny story about it the other day while I was out to lunch with one of my many female sexual companions.
She was telling me about her cousin, Wendy, who lives out your way.
Well, i guess this Wendy girl was in his grade all through school, and he always had the hugest crush on her. He would leave her anonymous love notes and gay shit like that. She always knew it was him, but never wanted to say anything, he was not the most popular kid as it was, and Wendy is a good natured girl. So, she pretended she had no clue.
This went on for years, until their senior year. Well, seems our lover boy finally found enough gall to do something about his huge crush on Wendy, and he asked her to go to the prom with him.
Wendy, being the sweet girl that she is agreed to go to the prom with him. Her friends all made fun of her, but she did not care. She knew in her heart it was the right thing to do.
Finally, the big night came!
Wendy paced anxiously, waiting for her date to arrive.
*ding dong*
The bell rang!
"Oooohhh your stud muffin is here!" Quipped one of her younger sisters, who went to the same school and knew full the date at the door would much more accuratly be reffered to as a dud muffin.
She ran down to the door and threw it open, eager to get what was supposed to be the best night of her life over and done with....and was taken aback.
There before her, stood the young man, but...there was a mistake...her date was not wearing a tuxedo! He was wearing...could it be? Oh No! I think it is!
"Greetings earth woman, I have come to escort you to the grand ball this evening!" Said her diminutive date, wearing the Star Trek dress uniform he had purchased on-line.
"Our shuttle awaits!" He announced, wrapping one of his pale, clammy around her arm and pulling her behind him to the waiting limo.
Wendy was horrified! How could this happen? This was bad....very bad. What was supossed to be her dream night was rapidly becoming a nightmare, she cursed herself for ever agreeing to go to the prom with him.
But, it was underway now, and she steeled herself for what was sure to be a terrible evening.
"Oh, if only the stars shone half as bright as you my love!" Cooed her escort.
"Please, wear this token of my affection this evening. I proccured it from a Ferengi merchant in the far reaches of space just for you, on this, the beginning of the rest of our lives together!" He said, presenting the most garish corsage she had ever seen. She timidly held out her wrist and allowed him once again to touch her with those cold sweaty hands.
"Ummm..thanks." She said half heartedly, trying to put on a brave show for him...and for herself, she knew that if she let herself dwell on it, she would burst into tears.
"I swear by the 9 cluster stars of Ular's Orb this token is not half so fine as you my love!" He said making a grandiose gesture. And proceeded to explain just what the 9 cluster stars of Ulstar's Orb were.
Thankfully, the limo slowed, and then stopped three minutes into his oratory.
They had arrived.
The the nightmare truly began.
First, the walkthough was a disaster, beginning with her date's insistance at being announced as Lord Commander, and ending with his tripping over the trail of her dress and falling off of the platform to her horror and the audience's delight.
Second the dancing...oh god the dancing! It did not ressemble dancing, so much as a 120 pound carp flopping out on the dance floor to MC Mario's dance mix '95.
Thirdly, the points and snickers that accompanied them where ever they went in the building. Following them like a dog follows a gut wagon.
At last the night drew to an end, and they returned to the limo. 'Thanks god," thought Wendy, 'I don't think I could take anymore of that.'
But our dastardly little web-monkey had other plans!
"Driver!" He barked, "Roll up the divider, my lady and I would like a little privacy."
Obediently, the driver rolled up the divider as Wendy began to grow uneasy.
"Aaahhhh, that is more like it." He said, making himself more comfortable, stretching while he unobtrusivly wrapped an arm around Wendy's shoulders.
"Ummm, I think maybe it is time I should be getting home..." Said Wendy, staring down at her hands nervously so as to avoid his gaze.
"Home?" Chuckled the web-monkey "You want to go home?"
"No my dear, I am afraid I have somehting different in mind for you!" He said, stroking a hand through her hair.
"Yes, I have been watching you for years from my lair deep underneath my parents house...and I have pined for you my love, Oh! How I have pined!"
"But no more! Tonight is the night both of our fantasies become one physical reality!"
And with that, he was upon her! Those pale hands, accoustomed to gripping a mouse and keyboard were rapidly becoming used to gripping something else entirely. Wendy struggled at first, but all of his pent up lust was to much for her, and she was slowly overcome.
"Oh yes my love!" He moaned, beginning to strip away his uniform. "Yes, I have waited so long....Now behold my wrath of kahn!" He said, fumbling with his trouseers, "My Frigate is ready to enter your shuttle bay!" He cried, freeing his member from it's confines.
And Wendy just stared.
"That's it?" She said.
"What do you mean, 'that's it'?" He said.
"I mean that thing looks like fucking frodo's dick." Said Wendy, not able to control her tongue.
At that point, she pulled out a camera, and before he could stop her, she took a picture.
"Oh my god!" She exclaimed, "Wait till my friends get a load of this!"
And with that, she jumped out of the moving limo, rolled to her feet and took off home.
And that my friends, is how we know I deserve a Doom T-shirt.
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