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zombielifecoach avatar 5:05 PM on 03.03.2010  (server time)
Is blood thicker than Red Potion?

My ruminations on why my Internet Gaming Community Family is unequivocally better than my real life relatives.

It all starts with Olivia Wilde...

She's nude. She is also laying on the back of a purple-furred donkey with a golden Unicorn horn. She beckons me toward her. Her piercing eyes intent with thoughts of appeasing my every lustful desire. A few paces away, Randy "Macho Man" Savage, dressed in sequins, leads a Mariachi band. The very fabric of time moves like temporal molasses as I saunter forward. She reaches out for me, and as we are about to touch, the donkey turns to face me. From his donkey lips the 1990's rap hit, "Damn It Feels Good to Be a Gangsta'" by The Geto Boys pours forth. The world begins to dematerialize. Bleary and blinking I find I'm in my bed now. My cellphone ringtone chimes the dulcet tones of the above mentioned rap phenoms. Like a rhesus monkey doped on Rohypnol and trying to get into a greased Zagnut, I awkwardly unlock my Droid. "Hullo?" I croak into the activated phone. It is a representative from a collections agency, and she is both unpleasant and grating. She is also trying to contact my sister. The call ends, and I roll to face my clock. 9:36. I have been asleep for 1 hour and 13 minutes. I begin to drift back towards Olivia. At 11:13 my home phone rings, and it is the same collections agency, just a different rep. Once again seeking my sibling that lives 4 hours away in a different state.

I hate my family.

I snag my wooby from the couch and slump in front of my netbook, instinctively logging on to Destructoid. Jim has said something disagreeable on the Home page. In The Bar, someone has tried to get fellated by a raccoon. Things get better.

Welcome to Destructoid. Here's some love.

My real life family sucks. They are a potpourri of drunks, addicts, felons, and fiends. We even have an honest to God murderer in our kindred fold. Like a war orphan, I ventured away from them a long time ago, but they always remained just near enough to cause chaos in my life. Recently my sojourn brought me to the doorsteps of Destructoid. Like a bastion from the dregs of my hereditary misery, I was taken in with open-ish arms. When I found the forums, I was in no way Internet versed. I didn't know a post from a thread, and combined with a crippling case of social networking anxiety, I was a hot mess. But the members were patient, and slowly I began to assimilate. So what did I find here? Drunks, addicts, felons, and fiends. But the self-depreciating commerce shared, conveyed a sense of responsibility for everyone's plight in life. Instead of real world finger pointing, and misdirections. Owning ones flaws, insecurities and shortcomings bonded everyone like mortar. Sure there was ego, narcissism, and penis-waggling. But it was all done with the good-natured ribaldry that was one part frat house, another part open-floor therapy.

I feel like I've known you forever, xxn00bStoMPr360xx.

Now one could say, "How could anyone find security in a place where everyone could be lying about who they truly are?!" To wit, I would retort, "How do we really know who anyone truly is?" We are what we make ourselves. If in "real life" a contributor is a shy social introvert, but around the site they are a brazen loud mouth, with the desire to be shown in rocket footie manjamas every other second, I see him/her as simply two sides of the same coin. My non-virtual family puts up more fronts than the Germans and Russians combined circa. 1915. They coerce and backstab, then toss out the old, "but we are family" in order to salve their indiscretions. Internet personas have a certain amount of controlled anonymity that allows for people to be honest about their views. Realistically, save for a textual chiding, or a Banhammer thwacking, repercussions aren't as damning. That honesty leads to practical unadulterated advice and sharing. The world needs more of this.

Let's save the world, or at least talk about masturbation.

My blood relatives are selfish pricks. Their desire for self-gratification knows no bounds. Here at Destructoid, community comes first. Here we share a goal. From all walks of life, every corner of the globe, every race, creed and color comes bound in the pursuit of an idea. There will, of course, be rabble rousers, and trolls. But it falls on us to police our ranks. Generally we do, because from my short time here, the members give a damn about making the best of this place. Just like families we bicker, disagree, and squabble. We misrepresent our views. That being said, I have witnessed complete strangers commit selfless acts of kindness, and go about without ever insisting upon themselves. At the close of each day we seem to be trying to take the most away for this shared experience. I look at it comparatively to one of the most accepted elements of RPGs. A cast of diverse characters can come together, generally under duress, and in a short period of time make something extraordinary happen through their unity. We are just like that. Just without as many pretentious elves.

The neighbors will never have us over again...

In the end, for me, it's about being apart of supporting each other, and reaping the support network of all the hooligans that frequent this little slice of Internet pie. The real world has Thanksgiving dinners turn ugly when the conversation invariably turns to sister Kelly's cocaine abortion. Or the fact that all of my siblings have different dads. Here in the last 6 months I have been privy to relative strangers supporting each other through relationship ills. Stood by with unabashed readiness in times of anger, and laughed in each others joys. In the forums we have celebrated literal births of new gamers, and consoled each other in times of loss. The foundation is carried on the shoulders of mischievous, video game playing, anime loving, movie quote reciting, deviant misanthropes, fools and scholars. It is The Family, and it is wonderful.

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