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I : Thief, Warrior, Gladiator, Imageboard

Between the time when the desu swallowed 4chan and the rise of the cult of nyoro~n, there was an age undreamed of. And unto this, danbooru! Destined to bear the jewelled necklace of infamy across a flat chest. It is I, Very Metal or one of several other names depending on where you know me from, who alone can tell thee of its saga. Let me tell you of the days of high drama!

Because as any fool knows there are two kinds of people in the world: those who organise their animated pornography and those who do not. That does us justice, doesn't it? I think that's more than fair to the rich tapestry of human experience and ambition and the almost limitless variation our species has demonstrated over the millennia. You either instinctively group pictures of cartoon girls from the internet according to a series of arbitrary categories, based on whether their feet are showing or their hair is tied back or whether they have two or more giant cocks in their pert little behinds and glasses on, or you do not.

I say this as someone who does not, and will never, feel this particular sinister urge; as someone content to barely group pictures by the date he came into receipt of them, as someone who enjoys the mythical, dreamlike quality which memory imparts on, for instance, that legendary sequence of pictures of the girl who looks a bit like Mai from Mai Hime fucking a boy in the ass, or the one where Kooh is doing a Hazuki impression at the same time as making me a thoughtcriminal.

Done my way, searching for these fabled, whispered-of pictures becomes an adventure of peril and discovery through the furtive, sweaty, half-remembered jungle hell of thousands of lesser pictures that you saved anyway but will probably never look at again much less jark off to. I become nothing less than a man sent upriver, beyond civilisation, on a mission to find the mysterious Kurt.zip, discover what is inside it and then masturbate furiously. What child doesn't dream of adventures like that?

What's more, I don't think, as a Christian, I could look Hazuki-chan or Mai-chan in the eye if I had them restrained in some well-labelled box somewhere simply for the ease of pulling them off the shelf whenever my appetites dictated. What about their needs? It would be as improper as having sex with a bodypillow without snuggling up to it afterwards; quick, cheap and mercenary. Or as mortifying as your sisters (older one with glasses, younger one with cat ears) finding the secret diary you keep minutely detailing their various prominent sexual characteristics and just what you'd like to do to them and then raping you in retaliation. It’s a zero-sum game and I ain’t gonna play it. So I'm sorry, Dokuro-chan; as much as I'd like to see you dressed up like a Ju 88 and blushing while cradling a well-oiled Long Lance torpedo between your thighs, this bureaucracy demeans us both.

Alternatively your experience of looking for anime pornography on the internet could feel more like the last half an hour or so of Alien 3; more unwashed, unhealthy-looking convicts in their filthy, ill-fitting clothes than you care to deal with on a casual basis, running around in the dark, shouting at each other, and hammering buttons to get a girl's attention with something horrible, unnatural, and scarring never more than a single poorly-made decision away.

... then came danbooru!