As inappropriate and harsh as that place could be, it was bar none the finest collection of incredibly smart, talented and funny people I've ever come across. People I'm proud to have conversed with. Soldiers, engineers, scientists, health workers, lawyers, alcoholics, bums, writers, professional strongmen, MMA/BJJ competitors etc. etc. etc. (and attractive women too) made that place astoundingly informative and entertaining. Before I make it sound like a paradise, I have to mention the incredible ability of even smart people to engage in cognitive dissonance, lie or refuse to listen. Stuff that was truly sad or made me incredibly angry that popped up there every so often. Stuff that I laughed for days about popped up too. Stuff that made me think intensely came along amazingly on the regular.
That board was probably the biggest factor in my transformation from an eighteen year old bad person to the twenty-three year old less-bad person I am now. In a way I didn't get often from the real world, it forced the rapid improvement of my analytical and writing abilities, while dramatically raising my standards for performance and conduct - both my own and those of others. Stupidity was not tolerated there and the community self-enforced in profane and hilarious manner.
Morons with entitlement complexes were swiftly ridiculed, banned or prompted to grow beyond who and what they were before. The board, along with the stories its creator told, helped me discover who I was, what I wanted from life and how I could achieve those goals. I made true friends there and frequently go on drinking expeditions with one who lives close by (as well as spoil his dog rotten).
To commemorate its passing, I post the link to Hall & Oates's She's Gone. I'll miss ya, TMMB. You weren't real, but the people that frequented you were. I'm sorry that my brother won't have the chance to surf you.
