Friends Behind The Screen

By Stephen W. Cote

The personal computer, coupled with the growing popularity of the Internet, has introduced us to a networked civilization. The media, press, government and business are quick to describe the technical aspects and benefits associated with such a potentially powerful tool. The unexplored truth is that, without regard to the success or failure of the Internet as a practical tool for civilized information, a new society has been born. More and more, people are turning inside and living their lives through a keyboard. The personal computer and the Internet provides for work and play, and lacks only sunlight and physical exertion for aesthetic completeness.

In the days of ASCII text, reliable Microsoft products, and complete anarchy on the Internet, email, news, IRC and of course the games were the platforms for this civilization. The World Wide Web is only one step ahead, providing an interlaced amalgamation of the basic protocols, used together with graphics for a well rounded environment. The Internet Culture gap is broken into three distinct areas. The Purists, or hardnosed Internet fanatics who believe that the Internet is a tool for running physics experiments and exchanging pertinent data on the latest phases of the moon. The Extremists, who grew up without the World Wide Web. And the Machinists, or those who have only known the Web. I use those terms with some hesitation, though in generalized terms, they define the necessary extremes. Ask the Purist about Internet workings, ask the Extremist about Internet communication etiquette, and ask the Machinist where the best site is. Although this is a very unfair categorization, it unfortunately rings true. Purists tend to correspond in the same mannerisms as a doctoral thesis and Machinists forget how to spell, capitalize, and what the word grammar is. The immediate conclusion is that the Internet Extremist knows the most about Internet Etiquette. The logical and most sensible reason is that, in the beginning of their experience, they, technically, did what most people assume is wasting time. They read and/or posted to the news, they played the games, they emailed people, and of course, they chatted on the IRC.

Fascinated by role playing games, I was introduced to the Internet by Keith Farmer, a college friend from Washington State University, in the fall of 1992. With nothing more than a 2,600 baud modem, a Shareware copy of Procomm Plus, and a single UNIX account, I found myself humbled by the sudden emergence into not just one new world, or even one new culture, but an entire universe created by millions of minds. Keith and I switched back and forth on his 286 IBM, playing on Sou Con, a Pern-based MUSH. A MUSH was uncharacteristically called a Multi-User Shared Hallucination. I later learned from Quarterman's The Internet Connection, that a MUSH was actually a Mail User Shell. There is no recognizable connection between the two that I could determine.

My first impression of Sou Con was one of disdain and unfortunate disappointment. The people were stuck up, tended to isolate themselves into small cliques, and my interaction with them was, at best, severely impaired. My reaction to this is what I later began to refer to as the Newbie Syndrome, taken from the word Newbie, used to describe new, and typically unaware people. The Internet's ability to teach social skills, by far, surpasses anything else that modern technology has to offer. However, a person can become immersed in the sub-culture of trying to fit in, and thereby become branded as a Twink, or a generally dissatisfying person to be around. Two months after being introduced to Sou Con, I was close to letting the Internet go and returning to the real world. This was, of course, the same time I discovered two places that played a crucial development in my rise, and subsequent fall, in the Internet gaming social status.

Dune MUSH, based on Frank Herbert's Dune, and originally headed by Allan Schwartz, offered me a very unique opportunity that did not strike until I had already become involved. During this same period, I had been working on a very rudimentary idea - developing super heroes that had not yet been used. Among the one page, list of five, was Khathyria (this little page was later renamed Archael, after a Role Playing game developed by myself, Jason Bruener, and David Barnes). I created Khathyria, a female character, for purposes of enlisting in the Bene Gesserit faction on the game. Keith followed suit, though created a character named Mathias.

It is interesting at how the development of a social life can misconstrue the events. While playing on Dune, Khathyria, later renamed Khathyria Castellan (the last name was added by the first faction head), I met with a very interesting opportunity. Overthrow the faction head and assume the title. As far as the character went for IC (IC, or In Character, refers to the character's life, not the person controlling it), there was no reason for her to do such a thing, and in the faction, it was not something that would have happened. It could be considered playing a priest who tries to overthrow the Pope. The event itself was by no determination of my own, but by some of the others I played with. They wanted a new leader and wanted me to lead them. I was, subsequently, asked to lead the Bene Gesserit.

While leading the Bene Gesserit, I tried to institute many different policies and became entangled in some very difficult controversies. The single largest was that, as a male, I played a female character. While personal feelings are not supposed to interfere with the action of a character IC, they do. Thus, when asked my real gender, I would answer cryptically. At first, it was never my intention to tell a lie, and in fact, I prided myself that, above all else, I never did lie to anyone. Misguidance and the lack of truth thereof is, and I sincerely emphasize this, a lie, as it gives people the wrong impression or information, directly or indirectly. I was, as some say, in a very good position, and I was not about to let it go.

The change on Dune came following a three month hiatus. I had no computer, and I left school for the summer. When I returned, several things happened very rapidly, resulting in my subsequent downfall, both as a character and as a person. Keith was given an administration position, from non administration, to Royalty and then to Wizard (Royalty is an administration flag set on Penn MUSH sources). I was quite disheartened by this since I had struggled to became an excellent role player. My capability to manufacture plots, to react to situations appropriately, and my character guidance were, indeed, very good. However, my life became the growth and the life of the character and the game. The character was asked to be a Judge (for role playing situations that required judicial decisions), and given a Master Roleplayers award. This was not enough. It was no longer a game, but a life. By far, I was not the only one struggling with this superbly illustrated, alternate reality. I was, though, responsible. With Keith in an administration position, I received residual comments about myself and my character. I had been nominated and turned down several times for an administration position since I was seen as a non-team player. This further drove me to not only seek accomplishment for the character, but fueled a disquiet deep inside that would not settle.

In November of 1993, I returned from a week long Thanksgiving to discover that one of the plots I had been working on failed because the other main operative had discovered I was not a female, but actually, an ordinary male. Other news that several people I knew had been made administration unsettled the disquiet and lead to a series of arguments. I pushed these people, the same that I had been calling my friends for almost a year, and was asked to leave the game.

At the same time I discovered Dune, I also began playing on Two Moons, a game based on Wendi and Richard Pini's Elfquest. Two Moons was, by far, a lot mellower, and the people were easier to talk to. The first person I met, Rillwhisper, helped walk me through the game. The first character I played was Faulk. This character was unceremoniously put to death on the game the next spring, though is succeeded, even today, by Snowlock and Kalecyme (who are rarely played or seen). I met Janet Ingraham, who played Starshade, and thus began a very rocky beginning. Her first impression of me was the result of a bad time she had been having, and that resulted in my becoming upset. Two Moons, during the time I played on Dune as Khathyria, was more recreational, though I began to value the time I spent with Janet.

It is strange that of all the good memories we have, only the bad seem to resurface. At the same time, of all the good friends I have made on the Internet, I can't remember the names of the people I grew to dislike. The most powerful time I ever had on-line, and so far in my life, was on my twenty first birthday, February 22, 1993. I had been playing on Two Moons and had petitioned for the feature character, Leetah. I was still under the impression, and sheer conceit and arrogance, that I was an absolutely incredible role player. This was not a simply mindless, incoherent vision, but a drive. I longed to be good at something, and this was, so far, what I seemed to excel at. I didn't get the character and was told I tried "too hard". For the first time - I don't ever recalling having done it before - I turned off the computer, not because I was finished playing, but because I began to realize that there was something wrong with what I was doing. During this semester, I was taking a poetry class with Dr. Ricardo Sanchez, and I decided to write a poem. What resulted is, I believe, one of the strangest sets of poems I have ever written. I have never rewritten it to make it clearer, though added a line in to specify an area that came from a Roger Waters' song. This set of poems was, of course, The Mohem.

A lot happened during my time on the Internet while playing the games. I met a lot of people, and many of them who were once my friends, I decisively turned into skillful opponents. Writing the Mohem wasn't an immediate recovery, but a bookmark where I hit the bottom. I did try to return to Dune, though was quickly immersed in the bad blood that I had created. For almost two years, until the fall of 1994, I spent my time on the computer, playing the games, trying to recover what I thought I once had on Dune as Khathyria, and commiserating on Two Moons. At the end of the summer of 1994, Dune closed. When it closed, I somehow felt relieved.

I spent a lot of time disliking people on Dune for what I thought they did to me. I knew then just as I do know that it was all an excuse. I was growing up in two worlds that don't make any amends for you. And I made really good friends that I managed to forget from time to time. I played on Two Moons until the summer of 1995 and now show up from time to time to say hello. The amazing fact about the whole experience is that those I chose, and still choose, to call my friends, mostly from Two moons, are still my friends. When I was hurting, they were there at my side. There were times on-line that I became what I disliked most. In the fall of 1995, struggling with real life, I began what I called the pursuit for inner peace - to be content with who I am, and to understand the out of control emotions I feel sometimes. Although I was always able to keep them to myself physically (I looked somber or morose most of the time during college - as Keith will verify), I never really understood them.

There will never be a powerful experience like living a life on the Internet. But it can't go on forever. The truest friends I made there, whether they know it or now, may be long lost, but are not forgotten.

CopyrightStephen W. Cote and Fantasy Writers, LTD, 1995.
writers@mcint.com
Last Updated: March 10, 1996