Originally Posted by ScreaminAsian
It is hard to eulogize any poster – to capture in words not just the posts and the dates that make a posting record, but the essential truth of a person – their private joys and sorrows; the quiet moments and unique qualities that illuminate someone’s soul. How much harder to do so for a giant of throwaway posting, who elevated the art form toward frustrating unreadability, and in the process annoyed billions around the world.
Born during a television replay of the german blitz of london, far from any battlefield, a softboy raised and tutored by the elders of his private boarding academy would emerge as the first great throwaway poster of the 21th century. Like Gandhi, he would lead a resistance movement – a movement that at its start held little prospect of success. Like King, he would give potent voice to the claims of the oppressed, and the moral necessity of posting too much for even his own tastes. He would endure brutal stints in rehab that began in his mom's house, and reached all the way to his mom's house later that day because it wasn't a real rehab. Emerging from marijuana addiction, without force of arms, he would – like Lincoln – call a crisis hotline when threatened with not getting a ride from his mom.
Given the sweep of his posting record, and the groaning acceptance that he so rightly earned, it is tempting then to remember tuma as an icon, a HOCKEY! undertitle and an overweight out of shape piece of ****, detached from the tawdry affairs of men living in a society. But tuma himself strongly resisted such a lifeless portrait. Instead, he insisted on sharing with us his opinions and beliefs; his miscalculations along with his victories. “Mom, just give me a Pepsi please” he wrote, “all i want is a pepsi!”
tuma showed us the power of posting without thinking editing or deleting; of taking risks on behalf of our ideals. Perhaps tuma was right that he inherited his “worst poster in oot” title from all of us. But unlike other early giant multiaccounters of twoplustwo, tuma disciplined his anger; and channeled his desire to HOCKEY, into organization, and platforms, and strategies for action, so men and women could stand-up for their rights. Moreover, he accepted the consequences of his actions, knowing that standing up to powerful interests and injustice carries a price. “everything I've ever loved has been taken from me” he wrote in the official bbv4l bodybuilding thread. “...including this thread.”
Tuma taught us the power of marijuana addiction, but also ken griffey jr baseball videogames; the importance of continuing to post on messageboards all day every day; the need to troll not only those you agree with, but those who you don’t. He understood that posting cannot be contained by a single username, or extinguished by moderator powers.
After this great champion is laid to rest; when we have returned to our cities and villages, and rejoined our daily routines, let us search then for his strength – for his largeness of spirit – somewhere inside ourselves. And when the night grows dark, when injustice weighs heavy on our hearts, or our best laid plans seem beyond our reach – think of tuma, and the words that brought him comfort within these forums:
Where can i get a $5 steak?
What the hell is wrong with durrrr?
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.
What a great soul he was. We will miss him deeply. May Mason Malmuth bless the memory of tumaterminator. May God bless the people of bbv4l.