Paul Allen Panks

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Paul Allen Panks (July 7, 1976-July 5, 2009) lived in Phoenix, Arizona in the USA. Also known as Dunric.

Author Credits

Organizational Credits

Special Note

On June 8th 2005, Paul Panks promised a Wiki-page on himself and his achievements. This is the closest he has yet come to fulfilling this promise. The original post read as follows:

"I promose[sic] a page on Paul Panks, specifically on his game

authorship, writing, usenet history and perspectives from groups, and Please also discuss his vision of Cotton Fitzsimmons predicting an NBA Title for the Phoenix Suns, his many visitations from ghosts and angels, plus his psychiatric stays and many hallucinations since 1995.

The Ghost Writer"

Quoting Paul Panks on June 15, 2005:

"Here's the deal: Andy Kaufman could never be me. He's a two-bit jokester, whereas I am the real thing. I don't pull punches, I don't eat turkey sandwhiches and I don't smoke. And I don't have cancer. I dream of programming a PDP-1, of walking on the moon, of swimming off the coast of Australia. I have two testicles, a brain and something else: my own genes to play with. I give out advice to those who can hear it, for all who hear my voices heareth the truth. What is truth, asks Pilate? F*ckin' A. What do you want? Reality?"

Paul Panks said goodbye to USENET on March 14, 2006 with the following post to

'Goodbye to USENET'
By: Paul Panks (AKA Paul Allen Panks, AKA "Dunric", AKA "PAP", AKA "Panks")

I never thought I'd write this letter. Here goes:

This is my final post to USENET forever. This is really it. No more. Ever. Some ten years ago when I began posting USENET while a student at Northern Arizona University, I was very new to the internet and, indeed, the technology itself was relatively new as well. In a country as great as America, one could hop on a computer in a university library and post/read messages from across the globe. It was always a delight to be able to read and respond to postings from people all over the world. A decade or so ago, USENET was very informative and interesting. But today, in 2006, the USENET is USE-LESS.

This process started gradually over a short period of time right after Windows 98 came out. People with WebTV, AOL and Geocities accounts quickly flooded USENET like so many wayward vampires, chasing after chickens in the eerie moonlight. Just what became of USENET you ask? A "de-evolution" event took hold, gnarling and eating away at the very fabric of whatever mystical loom wove this capitulation of talking Prozacians into place.

We are no longer an enlightened society, driven down by 99 cent Thirstbusters and Big Macs galore. We are drowning in our own Prolixin. Whatever muscles we had left to lift the proverbial shit-faced Furbies off our heads disappeared when corporate greed and indifference deep-sixed our collective will. "Usenet is not the internet"? The USENET is Breidbart Index meets Godwin's Law meets Meow Wars meets Serdar Argic meets Eternal September. If there's a Glad Bag large enough to encapsulate the shit USENET promulgates, well, I'm sure Archimedes Plutonium is presently working on a method to condense it into Zero Space.

To all the USENET groups I have ever posted to, I say only this:

As I was walking on the beach, I saw the LORD molding a dove from clay. He sculpted the bird until at last it had wings. Breathing life into it, he cusped his hands and let it fly to the heavens. And it flew, high into the air until it disappeared over the vast horizon ahead. The LORD turned to me and smiled, saying only,"Take flight, my son. For I am always with you, and you are forever in the shadow of the LORD, Thy God." (English) ---

Pendant que je marchais sur la plage, j'ai vu le SEIGNEUR mouler une colombe d'argile. Il sculpted l'oiseau jusqu'à ce qu'enfin il ait eu des ailes. La vie de respiration dans lui, il cusped ses mains et les a laissées voler aux cieux. Et elle a volé, haut dans l'air jusqu'à ce qu'elle ait disparu au-dessus du vaste horizon en avant. Le SEIGNEUR tourné à moi et souri, dire seulement, « vol de prise, mon fils. Pour moi suis toujours avec toi, et vous êtes pour toujours dans l'ombre du SEIGNEUR, Dieu de Thy. » (Frances) ---

Während ich auf den Strand ging, sah ich den LORD, eine Taube vom Lehm zu formen. Er sculpted den Vogel, bis schließlich er Flügel hatte. Atmenleben in ihn, cusped er seine Hände und ließ sie zu den Himmeln fliegen. Und sie flog, stark in die Luft, bis sie über dem beträchtlichen Horizont voran verschwand. Der LORD wendete an mich und lächelte, sagen nur, ,,Nehmenflug, mein Sohn. Für bin mich immer mit Ihnen, und Sie sind für immer im Schatten des LORDS, Thy Gott." (Germanic) ---

Mentre stavo camminando sulla spiaggia, ho visto il SIGNORE modellare una colomba da argilla. Sculpted l'uccello fino a che infine non avesse ale. Vita di respirazione in esso, cusped le sue mani e le ha lasciate volare al cielo. Ed ha volato, su nell'aria fino a che non sparisse sopra l'orizzonte ampio avanti. Il SIGNORE si è girato verso me ed ha sorriso, ad esempio soltanto, "volo dell'introito, il mio figlio. Per sono sempre con voi e siete per sempre nell'ombra del SIGNORE, dio di Thy.,, (Italia) ---

Som jag gick på badstranden, sågar jag LORDEN som gjuter en duva från lera. Han sculpted fågeln, tills äntligen den hade påskyndar. Andningliv in i den, cusped han his räcker och l5At den flyga till himmlarna. Och den flög, kicken in i lufta, tills den försvann över den vast horisonten framåt. LORDEN vände till mig och log, ordstävet endast, "Takeflighten, min son. För är jag alltid med dig, och du är för alltid i skuggan av LORDEN, den Thy guden.", (Swede)

May the angels, ghosts and UFOs be with you always. Ayoke, Eyumojock my friends. Ayoke, Eyumojock.



P.S. Write me sometime, eh? ( The Ides of March on the Continent USA 4:09 AM MST

(Written in Third Person) Speculation continues to abound as to his inevitable return, but this author remains shrouded in doubt. It is also believed that he will participate in the 2006 IF Competition, but as to the quality of his up and down work, no one can be absolutely certain. (/Written in Third Person)


On July 5, 2009, Panks died unexpectedly, two days short of his 33rd birthday.