I can just imagine it, a 395 pound, 34-year-old man with more hair in his neckbeard than on top of his head sitting in his decaying decade-old computer chair, with countless bottles of piss littered at his feet. He browses his favorite knockoff of an old faux-japanese forum that used to be kind of good. He thinks to himself, through a mind addled by months of constant end-to-end masturbation sessions, that this forum is much too slow. It does not contain nearly enough material to distract him from his pitiful living conditions. Eventually, the behemoth comes to the conclusion that, in order to solve this problem, he must take the responsibility of posting into his own hands. But wait! He is not smart enough, nor creative enough, to create an engaging thread on a board of discussion such as /b/ or /yu/ or /pol/ or even /vg/. And so he descends into the /sewers/, where his mind is free to work to it's greatest capacity, free from such manufactured social restraints as "quality" and "value." His neurons click and whir at relativistic speeds, conducting a symphony of multifaceted wit and tact. After what seems like ages, the beast is finally ready to put his flawless keikaku into action. His phenomenally efficient mind has managed to craft a work of art, a masterpiece, his magnum opus, out of a mere 5 letters and a picture of an anime girl. It could be seen as the end result of over a decade of anonymity. Every anon, across time and space, waits with baited breath as the creature hits the "post" button. His work is done. He drops to the earth, dead, and is quickly consumed by the gators. His sacrifice will nourish them for days to come.