Does Full Tilt have a screening process for player names? I’ve seen some pretty questionable names recently; please tell me there are limits to what people can use as screen names.

The corporate line goes a little something like this: of course there is a screening process for player names. Players will be asked to change their name if it’s too vulgar or obscene, but this is a site where you have to be 18 years of age to play so a little leniency will be granted. Basically, we’re willing to put our toes on the line of good taste, just not over it.

So go ahead and be creative with your player names – we’re all about having a good time here. Just don’t be the person who spoils the party by going too far. Sex and fart jokes are all well and good in the right context, but not in a public setting such as the one provided to you on Full Tilt Poker. Unless you’re me and all you have is sex and fart jokes, then it’s OK…

What the hell happened to Jerry Yang? That guy won like $8 million and then disappeared off the face of the planet.

Considering we’re talking about J-Yang here, I feel the need to answer this question in the form of a prayer:

Dear Lord Baby Jesus (as with all Jews, I feel more comfortable praying to Jesus in his baby form),

Thank you for showing us all last summer that you do indeed care about poker. Our brother Jerry Yang asked for your help in winning the Main Event, and you heeded his call. Now all players pray for their cards, especially when they need a runner-runner to hit their straight on the river and win the biggest tourney in the world. You are on the donkeys’ side, and we appreciate that. Now if you could permanently disable my doomswitch and legalize online poker in America, I’d love you forever. Some people say you’re just a figment of my imagination, but I’ve always believed in you Santa, er, Big Daddy Jesus…

On a serious note, I have no idea what the Yang-ster is up to these days. I do know that $8 million will buy you a whole lot of lottery tickets; maybe that boy will make a big score someday.

Please turn off my doomswitch. I don’t want to hear any excuses, just do it now and all will be forgiven.

I’ve heard much ado about nothing regarding this so called “doomswitch.” Apparently it’s some tool used by online poker sites to determine when your (poker) life should go down the drain. Once the doomswitch is turned on, you will immediately begin to run bad and there’s not a thing you can do to stop it. If you were Superman, then the doomswitch would be your kryptonite.

So I did a little investigating around the office to see if I could find this elusive switch of doom. Responses to my inquiries varied along the lines of “get a life” and “who are you again?” One person did say that he had the doomswitch locked away in his office, but he’s a big fat liar.

With all this evidence layed out before me, I could come to only one conclusion on the matter. The doomswitch probably isn’t really real in real life, but it is really real in our hearts and minds. We must all turn off the doomswitch within ourselves, and only then will we truly be at peace to play the most donky-troden, fish-tastic poker of our lives. Until next week…

Hence the beauty of online poker. The puritans among us (and Massachusetts knows something about puritans) will argue that sites like FTP make it too easy for the common degenerate to log on and blow their rent money playing high-stakes Omaha. And they have a valid point – to a point. Yes, the Internet does make it easy for players from around the world to find their favorite games anytime they want – from anywhere in the world. It’s one of the marvels of our modern society and I for one am greatly appreciative of this fact. Just because some people may misuse or abuse this ability, however, is no reason to criminalize the act of playing poker online. Especially when, in the same breath, you’re saying that it’s perfectly fine for these same people to hop in the car and drive to their local casino for their poker fix.

It’s no secret that I love playing poker as much – if not more – than the next guy. I play a lot. The thing is, I know that whether I’m running hot or cold, I can easily get up from the table any time I want and walk away from the game. Not everyone can, and that’s too bad. Another person’s addiction – or potential addiction - however is no excuse to criminalize my ability to play poker from the comfort of my home.

Sure, people like Patrick can argue that online poker enables players with addictive personalities by putting the temptation to gamble no further away than their laptop. To this I say, so what? The fact is that in a free society, the choice of whether to play poker or not should be left up to individuals and not the government. What people like Patrick don’t get is that while the folks who run sites like Full Tilt Poker want to make it as easy as possible for their players to find seats in their favorite games, they don’t want these players to start flinging cards to the detriment of their families or livelihoods. In fact, sites like FTP go so far as to give players who think they may have a problem the option to self-exclude themselves from playing online for anywhere from 12 hours to permanently.

One of the rights that comes with adulthood is the ability to make decisions for ourselves. Sometimes we’ll make good choices and sometimes we’ll make bad ones, but so long as we’re not hurting ourselves or someone else, those choices should remain up to us. It’s not the government’s place to act as some sort of nanny telling us what’s in our best interest, especially when they say you can’t play online poker, but playing in a casino is just fine. Oh, and don’t forget your mittens and your hat because it’s not too late to catch a nasty cold on your way to the car.

So, what’s your point you may ask. Just this… I’m all for poker in all of its forms. Live games, online games, hell… Chinese poker games in restaurants. I’ve played them all and I think every other poker player should have the same opportunity to break out a deck of cards or a laptop and play whatever game they want from wherever they want at whatever time they want to play.

It’s all about freedom of choice – something that the fine people of Massachusetts should know all about.

How do I know? Well, I play a lot of live poker. More than most people, probably, as I’m often in my card room at least two nights a week. There, I walk away from the tables with more money that I started with more often than not. Sure, I lose occasionally, but nowhere near as often as I do online.

So what’s the difference? I’m not completely sure, but I’ve been developing a couple of theories. First, I think I’m simply better at reading my opponents live than I am online. I don’t really look for physical tells or anything along those lines. For me, it’s more of a feel thing. If someone bet differently or took more or less time to make a decision, I can sometimes pick up on that.

For some reason, I also find it easier to follow the story when I’m playing live than I do online. It’s just easier for me to tell if someone’s bet makes sense when I’m playing live than it is online.

Another possible difference between my live and online results has to do with fear. Not fear of losing a pot – I’ve done that often enough that I’m more than comfortable with that result. Unfortunately. No, the fear I’m talking about is when an online opponent makes a big bet or raise in the middle of a hand.

There are many times when I’m sure I’m good, but there’s a little nagging thought somewhere in the back of my mind telling me that yeah, he really could be playing 4-5 on a board of 3-6-7 and that my two pair really is no good. Or that my opponent is sitting on a house when I’ve made my nut flush. I just know the impossible cards are out there waiting to kick me in the junk when I put my money in the pot. That’s my fear.

I don’t experience this same kind of dread playing live. Sure, it’s just as possible that my opponent is sitting on the nuts and that I’m betting into his made hand, but for some reason, I can deal with that possibility much more easily at a live table than I can online. Again, maybe it has something to do with being able to look my opponent in the eye and pick up on something that I can’t really even describe. I don’t really know.

While I’m trying to figure out why my results are so different between live and online play, I guess I also have to think about the fact that in live play, the money in front of me is much more tangible than the money I’m playing with online. Sure, I know those numbers represent real cash, but there are no chips stacks in front of me that I can watch increase or decrease depending on my play. There’s a certain reassurance I get in a live game when I see that pile of red or black checks continue to grow throughout the night. It’s comforting in the way that watching a number on a screen just isn’t.

So, what do I do to change my results? Good question. And my answer is… I don’t know. Maybe I have to change my online strategy and start playing differently than I do in a live game. Maybe I should play more pots with a bigger variety of hands, sort of like Erick Lindgren advises. If I miss, I can get away. If I hit, I’m likely to confuse the hell out of my opponents when they don’t see my trip 8s coming on a an A-Q-8 flop.

Like most everyone else, I’m looking for answers. If you’ve got suggestions, throw them at me. If you think I’m just a big donkey, well, tell me that too. I’ve heard it before. All I know is that I’ll keep logging on until I figure this damn game out. And as long as I’m financing my online losses with my live winnings, then I’m happy enough at the moment.