|No, not her.|
Unlike you, however, I've actually found indisputable evidence to support my personal bias. You see, post-Gygaxian versions of Big D are objectively inferior for one simple reason: the Rogue. Introduced, I believe, in the much-vaunted 2nd edition of Advanced Big D, rogues are essentially thieves with a coat of paint to give them somewhat less illegitimacy. Or something. I don't really know why they changed the name, but I do know that it has been scientifically proven that any edition of D&D that includes a class titled "Rogue"is clearly the product of an inferior mind and should be derided mercilessly at every opportunity, except in those circumstances during which simply ignoring it seems more palatable.
DM: The chamber is filled by a viscous, burbling black blob; it reeks overpoweringly of vomit and strychnine and seems to be sliming its way toward you. What do you do?The term rogue has come to mean an outlier, someone who lives outside the norm, someone possessed of an attitude of nonconformity. While definitely more open ended than "thief," this makes no sense at all as the name of a character class. What you have is a class that specializes in not doing what's expected of it. While there's no reason that you can't count on a well appellated thief to climb walls, decrypt codes, or defuse bombs for the good of the party, all you can expect from your rogue is that s/he's going to give you lip if you ask him or her to do something:
Roger the Rogue: I flash my most menacing grin and offer a defiant witticism.
DM: Ok, roll against your "Crack Wise in the Face of Danger" ability. While you've got your 20-sider in hand go ahead and make a save vs. flesh-eating bile.
Fred the Fighter: I try to open the door on the west wall.
DM: It's locked.
[The rest of the party looks meaningfully at the "Rogue"]
Rachel the Rogue: Stick it ya' buncha' hosebags, I'm not your lapdog. [Leaps onto a nearby table sending crockery flying and raises a fist in the air] Fight the power!