I am troubled, fellow Goreans.

Now, I don't usually write essays such as this one, as a rule. It has always been my way to keep my own counsel when I perceived that a wrong was being done, and periodically commenting upon it in such a way that perhaps the guilty parties would wake up, take a look at the error of their ways, and get with the communal program. That seems to me to be the best way to deal with onerous activities in our midst; I mean, heck, I can't command or order anyone to do anything they don't want to do. Nor would I try. The beauty of our on-line mediums has always been the fact that, in the end, the choice is yours, whether or not to behave responsibly and intelligently, or to cast all concern for others to the four winds and behave as a self-centered, unapologetic moron. But you always have the choice.

But every rule has an exception, and it has reached the point where the theft of materials I have created for the edification of my fellow Goreans can no longer be ignored. Because, simply put, it wounds me grievously each time it occurs. I have labored long to create educational materials through which those who do not know or understand Norman's writing, and the customs and practices we have derived from it, could take a further step into self-knowledge and a greater personal understanding of what Gor means and what it is all about. In return, I have been spat upon.

I glanced at my hard drive today, perusing a file folder named "New_Gorean_Projects." Within that file folder are treasures galore for the discerning Goraphile (well, I happen to think they are, anyway). Within that file I have sketches and notes regarding the Sleen and the many different breeds of Tharlarion, detailed drawings and schematics of how a tarn saddle looks and functions, drawings and notations depicting the appearance of a Gorean cylinder and beautifully detailed pictures of a Gorean free woman's robes of concealment. And much, much, more.

I have drawings of the Kaiila and the Kailiauk, the rigging of a tarn basket in flight, even graphic representations of several letters of the Gorean alphabet (or alkabat, as the Goreans call it). I have depictions of Gorean weaponry, Gorean helmets, sketches of Gorean robes and tunics. And the most compelling point in regard to these things is the fact that each of these sketches has been seen and approved by no less than John Norman himself. He himself saw them and verified their accuracy to his own visions of what these things looked like. How I obtained these materials is not important... I obtained them from the same source through which I obtained the now-famous excerpt from the yet-unpublished Witness of Gor, which I placed upon the Vision entertainment web site a year ago. In short, I obtained these materials from the source, or straight from the kaiila's mouth.

Why is that excerpt from book #26 "now famous?"

Simple. Because within one hour of my placing it upon the Internet, under the strictly legal copyright restrictions which govern the Vision Entertainment web site, it had already been stolen, copied and pasted and adorned half a dozen other "Gorean"web sites on the net.

In short, it was stolen from Vision, and from John Norman, and, in a sense, from me.

Which is why all the wonderful materials which I have obtained for the viewing pleasure of my fellow Goreans, which fill up that New_Gorean_Projects file folder on my hard drive, will never see the light of day on theInternett.

Because apparently, to some who call themselves "Gorean," the simple act of displaying something on the Internet is seen as carte blanche to steal that material and illegally repost it.

I will not discuss in detail my own works here, or the many hours I have labored to create them. I will not explain the street by street map of the city of Ar designed by JaKil and the final version of it created by myself, in strict accordance to months of research in the books, seeking every note and mention of locations in that great city. I will not discuss the updated, and finally correct, Gorean World Map which sits upon my hard drive, waiting to be coded as a replacement for the incomplete version which currently adorns the S&S web site.

Why?

Because those things might as well not exist, as far as the Internet is concerned. Because, unless you know me well enough to visit me at my house, and to see these things, and the other materials mentioned above, displayed upon my own machine, in all probability it is unlikely you will ever see them.

Why?

Because I do not wish them to be stolen from me and reposted on someone else's web site, under someone else's name. That's why.

Because I do not wish them to be used as a resource for some made-up role playing game. That's why.

I have always been of the mind that we should all work together to further our knowledge of Gor. I have freely given away dozens of information files, have stocked the S&S web site with the best material I could create, and I have even created separate sites designed to inform and equip the newcomer with all the knowledge needed to immerse himself in on-line doings.

In response, I have been plundered. My work has been stolen, my web sites raped, the product of hours of sweat and effort slapped from my hands in an instant to adorn the websitee of people who do not even have enough respect for me (or for the works of John Norman, or for the law of our land, for that matter) to admit who they obtained the materials from.

I consider myself an extremely patient man, for a Gorean. But enough is enough.

Nor am I whining about it. Admittedly, it is my own damn fault. I have always persisted in having more faith in my supposed "fellow Goreans" than I suppose they rightfully deserve. However, I am forced by circumstances to severely curtail my activities in spreading Gorean information via the Internet. And much that I have done, and have created, for all of us, seems doomed to remain eternally unseen.

I was viewing Gorean web sites the other day (as is my wont, having a keen interest in all matters pertaining to Gor, on-line and off), and I happened upon a site which had appropriated an entire essay of mine, one regarding the Honor codes and expected behavior of a Gorean Warrior. It was one of the first such essays I ever wrote, and in it, I poured out my heart to explain how and why men such as those warriors depicted in the Gor books might think and behave. In that essay I discussed Honor... what it might mean to have it, and how it might be practiced in our world as well as upon Norman's.

The web master of that site had broken my essay up into sections, and had appended material to it in which was detailed how best one might roleplayy these aspects of Gorean Honor, and character, inon-linee game setting.

They are using my explanations of Gorean Honor as a guideline by which they might pretend to be honorable, in a fantasy game setting.

And again: they are using my explanations of Gorean Honor as a guideline through which they might "play-act" the possession of Gorean Honor.

To anyone who knows me, or who understands my deep feelings regarding the possession of Gorean Honor (I mean, the ACTUAL possession of it; NOT some artificial pretend version of it, which one turns off with the click of a computer switch, or maintains through the roll of a set of dice), nothing further need be said.

When I saw that, I shook with rage. Tears filled my eyes. Are the fools of Earth so blind that they believe that honor is simply a player character statistic in an imaginary game-setting?

At that instant, I felt a new emotion in connection with my involvement with on-line Gorean interaction. It was an emotion which I had never felt before, regarding all that I have done to further Gorean knowledge via the Internet.

I felt shame. Deep, burning, shame, which came with the knowledge that all I have done, all of my work and efforts to create a clear path into the heart of Gorean philosophy for others to follow, so that they might join I and my fellows in a greater understanding of the depth of dedication required to consider oneself "Gorean"... that all of that has been used by the selfish and the misguided in order to call themselves something which, in all actuality, they have no intention of ever being.

I have misguidedly taught fools to successfully pretend to be Gorean. I have equipped them with all the information they will ever need to dupe the rest of us into believing that they are like we are. I have trained thousands of our enemies to penetrate our ranks and hide among us. And I did it all in the mistaken belief that if I could just make them see the beauty and ferocity which makes Gor so real to me, and to so many of us, that they MUST see the light and come to understand what it means to be Gorean.

I was wrong. They do not want to understand. They simply want to pretend to understand, and that just so long as they never have to expend the slightest effort to actually BE what they claim to be.

Mea culpa. Mea culpa. Mea maxima culpa.

I once believed that there were serious Goreans out there in the gaming channels, seeking to learn. Those hopes have been crushed. In the end, you see, any game is, in the end, simply a game; it cannot be taken seriously, because it is not serious to begin with.

To those who DO seek to understand what it means to be Gorean in their life, beyond the clacking of computer keys and the clicking of a mouse, perhaps it is time to leave your games behind and seek those who live, and love, this philosophy. On-line paga drinking and belching is all good fun... unless it is the only thing one does, and unless it is representative of nothing which is occurring in one's heart and mind.

I may not be the sharpest tack in the barrel, but I know an enemy when I smell one. And there are a lot of them out there, warping everything I believe in and turning it into a useless waste of time wherein they can, if only for a moment, call themselves "Gorean" and have people believe it to be true.

The lines are being drawn. When all is said and done, one needs to be sure that one is standing on the right side of those lines. That right side being, in my opinion, the side upon which Gorean interaction and philosophy has real meaning and is representative of the life one leads, and the philosophy one lives.

Last weekend I sat in my home, as I have often done in the past, around a low table, with a group of Gorean Men. Much laughter was shared, a few insults were laughingly tossed around, and much liquor was exchanged, each beverage brought to our hands by a kneeling slavegirl who knew what it meant to be at the feet of Gorean Men.

Once, in another place, I stood with other such Men and shed tears over a stone which means more to me than my own life.

Another time (there have been so many times), I held grass and earth and shared salt with a Man who has become no less to me than the sons of my own father. Another time I held grass and earth with another who will be my brother until the day I die. And still another time, long ago, I drew the blood of a fellow, and he drew mine, and we became sword-brothers in the Gorean fashion.

Once I stood at my father's grave, flanked on either side by Gorean men who had driven far to come to my aid in my time of grief, while across the country, a dozen Gorean men gathered and poured libations into a campfire to honor my father's memory.

I have been served by slaves in many states, and by those from other countries. I have drunk paga brewed by the hands of a Gorean brewer. I have exchanged steel with my fellow Goreans, and I have crossed steel with them. I have stood beside my fellow Goreans in times of trouble and and in times of joy, I have shared their pain and lifted them up and held their hands in mine as we cast a defiant glance to the world which said "We are here! We are Gorean, and we are a match for anything!"

I can throw a spear into the center of a target at twenty paces, from the ground or from the saddle. I can wield steel like it were a living thing. And I live my codes every day of my life.

And none of it, NONE of it, has anything to do with playing a game. It was life, real life, my life.

To any who would steal from me, or who would steal from those who truly wish to be of Gor, I say: you are thieves. You seek to steal what you can never understand. And you are utterly pathetic.

To those who would pretend to be like I and my fellows, by rolling dice or memorizing passages from the Gor books, I say:

You are not like me. I disown you. You are a sad mockery of what it can mean to be Gorean.

You dwell on Earth, among earthlings, eternally. Now go, turn on your computers and pretend.

And know that you will never know what it can mean to be Gorean in your life.

Nor will you ever see Norman's sketches of a tarnsaddle, or his vision of a city of towers, nor the shape and appearance of a cunning and ferocious sleen... not from the contents of my hard drive, anyway. You will simply have to invent your own versions of these things to add to your gaming. Not that such invention is foreign to you and your ilk.

Now... go play.

And while you are doing that, I will be busy. I have some Goreans to meet, and some things I'd like to show them.

To those Goreans who I have yet to find, I say:

I wish you well!

_Marcus_