John Norman's Chronicles of Gor - Opening Statement [Posting Guidelines and Moderator's Notes]

Welcome to John Norman's Chronicles of Gor!

Forty years ago, in December 1966, in a small volcanic eruption, barely noticed by the needles of geological seismographs, a new island was created; a landmass far beyond the well-known regions of Mare Literaris, isolated from the placid waters of predictable mediocrity, veiled by the fog of fraternal enviousness; and in a series of outbursts that lasted for almost twenty-two years, it grew into a whole new continent, surrounded by atolls of freedom and honesty and joy; silent retreats and tranquil places, where one might listen to the sound of the sea, patiently waiting for the wave that whispers the tale of this unique landmass, generated upon the courage of one single, non-conformant science fiction author, a man by the name of John Norman.

Beacons were lit along her shorelines, safe harbors were build upon her peninsulas, with markets and taverns, where music and laughter accompanied the movements of beautiful, scarcely dressed dancers, where games were played and men were singing and drinking and telling stories.

For a brief moment in time, the Gorean continent became the home of the seekers of truth, the admirers of honesty, the adversaries of both sameness and the denial of natural order.

Alas, the defenders of intellectual freedom, the advocates of honor and the champions of biological dimorphism were outnumbered by the tyrants of conformity and their meek herd of political-correct followers, and the beacons were extinguished, the harbors ruined, and the taverns and markets deserted.

It seemed the Gorean continent had sunk into oblivion, and would soon disappear from all the maps.

Yet the cries of seagulls attract more than the interest of mere fishermen. If ones mind is lost in the entanglement of modern complexity, ones heart might still respond to the pounding of the waves, the freshness of salted air, and the undisrupted horizons that only the oceans of imagination can offer.

Ships are sailing again, and might again need shelter from the storm.

Proudly I have the honor to present to you this Chronicles of Gor Forum, a new harbor on the Gorean continent, not built upon the quicksands of commercial enterprise and remunerative financial investments, but based upon a rock-solid foundation; a true love of creative freedom, an unquestionable admiration of integrity and perseverance, and the deep felt and honest respect for the Jason of contemporary science fiction.

This, my friends, is the final destination of the last voyage of the Argo.
<blockquote><i>"Ta-Sardar-Gor. Ta-Thassa," said I, in Gorean. "To the Priest-Kings of Gor, and to the Sea."
Then, slowly, I poured the wine, and the oil into the sea, and the salt.</i>
<sup>John Norman - Hunters of Gor, page 73.</sup></blockquote>I wish you well,
Simon

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