Illustration by Holly Randall

When Al Gore invented the Internet, he never realized what many great things we would eventually be able to do online. And, as students, we have discovered the beauty that is the Internet; after all, we know that all good things come from the Internet - not from God.

For instance, if going to the UofA Bookstore at the Student Union Memorial Center isn't your thing, you can have next semester's books shipped right to your dorm room with just one quick visit to Amazon.com or any number of online book dealers.

Or, if your parents are like Scrooge - as mine are - and refuse to get you a car, you can still buy your weekly groceries, sans car. All you need is that ethernet cable of yours and the ability to click the left-hand button on your mouse.

And if you want to be a bit unwise with your money, you can gamble away your parents' hard-earned money at online casinos or buy that porno you were dying to see without letting anyone know you have a foot fetish.

Laura Keslar Columnist

So yes, the Internet is a marvelous thing. And, according to some avid hunters, it has the potential to become the greatest thing ever with the advent of online hunting.

"Online hunting?" you ask.

It sounds absurd, I know. But John Underwood, a Web site creator and auto body shop estimator from Texas, thinks it's the next best thing since canned beer and Jesus, especially for disabled hunters or those unable to pay to go to Texas to hunt.

His website (www.live-shot.com) promises to provide a computer-assisted, Internet-based hunting opportunity on his Texas ranch as soon as he gets the necessary high-speed Internet connections.

It works like this: an individual, in the comfort of his own home, can log onto the Internet. Once on Underwood's Web site, you can log in and reserve the range for 20 minutes. When the range time comes up, the user proceeds to control the rifle through the Internet, aiming it at a paper target they can see live through a camera.

Currently, the only thing you can do on his website with your $14.95 membership fee and $5.95 range costs is shoot at some paper for 20 minutes with a .22-caliber rifle.

But it's the future plans that count - a future filled with shooting Bambi, Pumbaa or even your very own Thanksgiving dinner.

I might think dead cow tastes good and I really don't care how the chicken gets to KFC. I chase the pigeons on campus and like to take potshots at doves in my car. Hunting is great and label me a gun nut. Heck, I even support the war in Iraq. But I cannot stomach the monstrous idea behind the conception of this Web site.

Part of my disgust is all in the aesthetics. Going hunting is more than pulling the trigger; it's the experience. It's driving out into the middle of nowhere, setting up camp, tracking down your prey.

But the problem with the direction the Web site is headed is more than just that it defies the traditional appeal of hunting. It's about the distance it places between the "hunter" and the destruction he causes with a gun. It makes the death of an animal much more trivial than it needs to be.

Although the site specifically states that it is not a game, how can it not be construed as such? After all, the "hunters" are so far removed from the situation, it is no different from playing "Mortal Kombat" or some other bloodbath bonanza.

They view it on a screen and they shoot. They don't have to see the after effects. If they just wanted to have some fun and shoot up an animal, they have the option of donating the meat to an organization - without ever seeing the carcass.

At least when you go out in the wild to hunt, you can get the full force of what you are doing; if you get too close to that cute little fluffy bunny, it virtually disintegrates.

Hunting in person might be disturbing, but at least it drives home that point that you are using a dangerous tool. The gun owner must recognize the sole purpose of a firearm - that of ending life, human or otherwise.

While I might not always (OK, almost never) agree with gun-control enthusiasts, they have a point: to put such distance between yourself and that knowledge is downright dangerous. It desensitizes people to the very nature of the activity they are enjoying.

In other words, the Web site divorces the consequence from the action; it enforces a world devoid of reality.

So, if buying your turkey from the grocery store doesn't fit into your idea of a fine Thanksgiving tradition, consider, at the very least, the ramifications of picking up that mouse and shooting yourself a fine piece of meat off the Internet.

It's not just another computer game; it's reality.

Laura Keslar is a pre-pharmacy junior. She can be reached at letters@wildcat.arizona.edu.