and it's plain to see, the evil inside of me is on the rise

And then, we went to Benthen Manor. Boy, is there a lot of green in this place. An amazing tonnage of bright acid green--letters, and arrows, and fog, and announcement text...Lots of green. Lots and lots and lots.



You thought I was kidding? LOTS OF GREEN.

The basic layout is simple and familiar; in fact, I'm almost positive we went through this exact same build last October...somewhere. May not have been the same people, but nevertheless.



Seeing my name on the headstone as we walked up to the door was kind of a shock. It even has my rez date. Creepy.

Also, there are sedate little 'for sale' boxes throughout the house and the grounds, I thought that was a nice touch. Ability to buy things, without the 'store' aspect being shoved in our faces. Neat.



It was rather a shock for Fawkes, too, to see his name and rez date appear, after I walked by. We were being sent an ominous message...



"LET ME GO" written in blood on the wall of the house. Nice touch, but the practical side of me had to wonder: if one is bleeding enough to be able to write "LET ME GO" on a wall...I think it's a safe conclusion that one, in fact, will not be released at that point.



Facing down the ghost in the stairwell, absolutely useless (against ghosts, anyway) nailed plank firmly in my grasp. On the plus side, the owners of the property have seen fit to provide such planks, and yes, later on?

We did need them.



Appreciating the web, and the spider in it, and trying to ignore the hissing of the haunts behind me--but it was a very cool spider, and it was a very cool web, for that matter.

Also, the pictures on the wall behind the web? Fade in and out.



Clockwerk, armed and dangerous. The nailed plank was bigger than he was! Still and all, capable iron fighter at my side--he took out more of the zombies than I did!



Pausing for a moment to catch my breath on the couch. I was overjoyed the zombies hadn't come in the house, but the hissing of the ghosts, the repeated low calls to "Get...OUUUUT..." were more than a tad unnerving.



And then zombies came at my face.

All in all, if you remove the zombies from the equation, Bentham Manor is a polite diversion, an amusing use of a short span of time.

Add in the zombies, however, and things get just the merest bit tense and breathless. The nailed plank you hold becomes your only defense, and--

AAAAH! HEADCRAB ZOMBIES! RUUUUUN!

just look at the world around you, right here on the ocean floor

The Dark Victorians informed me of an interesting photo HUD for in-world photographers like me, who don't tend towards a ton of off-the-grid processing. AM Radio is selling it exclusively at the Dark Victorians' Emporium, and it retails for L$400. (All proceeds from which, btw, go to pay the tier on Far Away, which in turn is sponsored by Heifer International Charity, which is a very cool international group dedicated to sustainable agriculture and livestock training, in order to end world hunger, and raise the standard of living for everyone.

(Worthy goals, indeed.)

I came to the Emporium to track down the HUD, but was absolutely enchanted with two other offerings: all of Mary Poppin's props (hat, carpetbag, umbrella and her token absinthe bottle) for 600 Lindens, as well as the ability to pick up two dresses, the hair, and a reasonable approximation of the skin...and even better (though spendier), a living, breathing Nightmare to ride. (They charge the modest sum of L$2400 for the upkeep and training of said dread beast.)

Coming to Tanglewoods, of course, one will be dropped off at the central transport point. Just face northwest, and look for the bats.

After traipsing through the lovely horrors at the Dark Victorians' Emporium, I went back briefly to the Carnival of Doom. Nearly within moments of walking in past the ticket booth, a stray falling Ferris tram fell on my head. Of course I died, and went to the waiting room, and after trying to access the other rooms--and being sent back to wait--I gave up, and turned on the music stream.

EASY LISTENING! Hell is not only a waiting room, but it's a waiting room playing Musak versions of "O Danny Boy" and...BARRY MANILOW!

AAAAAAAH!

Anyway, so there we were, on this hunt.



The Pirate Kitties store in Silva is having a treasure hunt--but that's where things got odd. First, to get to the hunt, you dive beneath the surface of the small pool to the left of the store entrance, and begin exploring the undersea tunnels that snake under the entire sim.



Miss Neome shifted into a hermit crab, Miss Midnight became a cuttlefish, and Mr. Allen popped Clockwerk into a preservation bubble to jet about. I was feeling rebellious, so I went for the pirate bikini and gills.

My only difficulty was that the other shoe wouldn't attach, so I got the joy of wandering around in two different shoes. Amusingly enough, the Devoted shoes from Solange can be worn with Damen Gorilla's shoe base for his C'mere line of shoes. (Tomorrow's entry, I do believe, shall cover the new shoes recently acquired from Adam & Eve and Damen, in particular.)



We know they have four silver coins--small, partially glowed grey rounds that are surprisingly easy to hide; and we've found all four. We suspect they have four jewels--which are smaller and even more easy to hide, and we've only found three (the diamond, the very tiny emerald, and the ruby). We have no idea if they have four treasure chests, as we've only found two--and they're very large treasure chests that click open to be 'bought'.



It's a surprisingly cute build, even with the whole, mysterious-underground-passages angle. Everything is sunken ships, and cargo crates and barrels, and knotted-rope hammocks, and places to sit and relax in the cool water. And drifting sealife, along with sea flora, to complement everything.

(Note presence of sea monkey in the lower left corner of the above shot, f'rinstance.)



But we're finding ourselves surprisingly stymied by how many items there are to find; whether we've found all the chests, for example, or whether there are two more remaining. That, and understanding the layout of the many twisty-windy passages underneath the sim that all look the same.

Still and all, though, it's surprisingly pretty, and very peaceful, and at the least, it'll go into the landmark list of 'fun places to spend time'...and that list, frankly? Never has enough things on it.

So if nothing else, I'm happy to have found a new place to wander. And who knows--if nothing else, I could flip on fins, and see how fast I can swim through the tunnels!

you can do a lot in a lifetime, if you don't burn out too fast

It's not how fast you can go
The force goes into the flow
If you pick up the beat
You can forget about the heat



There will always be communication, I've grown inured to that. Despite everything, despite how far I go, how far he goes, we know how to read each other. We are not lovers, but perhaps we're friends.



How long will that remain, though, when even the shadow of his passing disperses? And was it always him, or was there ever affection for the one who carried him?



Malignant and benign, passion's fire over heart's dismay, proof that even demigods can make mistakes.

More than just survival
More than just a flash
More than just a dotted line
More than just a dash



The once-friended daughter walks paths I cannot even comprehend. I do not know most of what happened aboard the fleet of ships that I was asked to help support. Frozen in place, frozen in shape, when I was asked, I admit it now: I was afraid to make things worse, afraid to be asked to help, once aboard, and be even less useful than I was during those breathless, frozen weeks.



This is what happens when one removes change from a changeling: she loses all ability to do anything but focus upon what she cannot do. Perhaps in time, I would have adjusted; perhaps in time, I would have discovered other abilities. I did not have that time when asked. I wasn't able to step back and realize that even my same pair of hands might have been of aid.



I didn't realize a lot of things. Some I'm paying for now; some new mistakes now are mine to keep; some new blessings are mine to treasure. It goes both ways, good and bad, healing and damaging, and sometimes, both sides are the same.

It's a test of ultimate will
The heartbreak climb uphill
Got to pick up the pace
If you want to stay in the race



So now I run in place, waiting for a break in the crowd ahead. It will come; I have faith; but in the meantime, I keep moving. I keep running. One step ahead of dissolution, two steps towards redemption, on the path and headed true.



Or so it seems, at least. Self-doubt is the least of my worries, but I could be wrong. I could be making mistakes right and left, irrecoverable ones, but I go where I'm called, do what I think I must, and get through each week, each hour, each day, in limbo or on the grid, and slowly, slowly, set down the pattern of my life.

More than blind ambition
More than simple greed
More than a finish line
Must feed this burning need
In the long run...



There's oddity, I admit that. Sometimes I feel blind, as if I'm trying to inch my way out of the dark. Sometimes I feel I'll go mad if I don't get a cheat sheet--all the answers in advance, so I won't have to search for them anymore.

That's not the way life works, though. Any life. I do know that.

From first to last
The peak is never passed
Something always fires the light that gets in your eyes
One moment's high, and glory rolls on by
Like a streak of lightning
That flashes and fades in the summer sky



Maybe it's a problem of too many choices. Maybe it's a problem of unrestricted options. I know friends who would tell me, everything would be simpler with simple changes. Have one, not some. Have some, not all. Hearts, they've told me, they're only made to love one at a time.

But I know that's not so. I know I can love platonically and romantically, I know I can love more than one. I know it's true, I know it's my truth. It's a truth that is the heart and core of everything I believe.

Your meters may overload
You can rest at the side of the road
You can miss a stride
But nobody gets a free ride



And everything I believe is not wrong. Everything that has formed me, each experience, every good thing, every bad thing, that has gone into forming my bones, my blood, my heart, my soul--I cannot believe I have made wrong choices at every turn.

No one could. No one ever could.

More than high performance
More than just a spark
More than just the bottom line
Or a lucky shot in the dark
In the long run...



It's not the first time I've said this. Why don't I hear it each time? It's not the first time I've come to this place. This place is very familiar. So why, I ask, brow furrowed, face worried...why do I keep asking this question over and over again?

Am I expecting the answers to change?

You can do a lot in a lifetime
If you don't burn out too fast
You can make the most of the distance
First you need endurance
First you've got to last...



For those who have asked, the Kurotsubaki hunt for the dark circus outfit is still going on, but it ends on the 21st, in the afternoon. Find six apples hidden--all next to some variation of a little circus staffer-doll--here. Enjoy the off-key music, the slot-for-prizes machine, and Kurotsubaki's version of rides while you're there.

And the Carnival of Doom, part of the Rezzable collection of curious sims, is preparing to shut down. Open since before the advent of Havok4, many of the rides broke when the new physics engines came online. But enough remains active, and the atmosphere's so uniquely bizarre, there's still enjoyable things to do.

Don't eat the corn dogs. Do check out the freak show. Don't get hit by the falling Ferris trams. Try not to die. Unless that's the point, in which case--there are lots of ways to get injured, in the Carnival of Doom. It closes August 1st.

[Insert from the Editrix: I am WRONG in this! As the one named RaR says in comments, the scripting issues are being fixed, and it is NOT going away!

[Yay!]



Otherwise, I'm ready. I see the track, I've been in preparations for this, it seems, at least half my life. Two years on the grid and counting, more than enough time to get the point.

I get the point. Let's go. Let's run this race. I'm ready to see what lies ahead.

(Lyrics are taken from Rush's Marathon.)

so how can it be that you have shown me the light?

When does the heart grow cold? When do the feelings of others cease to be important? When does indifference and contempt set in?

Or maybe...that has nothing to do with it. Maybe I'm just tired of hiding. I've had a surfeit of shadows. I suffered an excess of the better part of valor. I'm tired of turning down invitations, tired of pulling back, tired of never leaving my home unless it's to go to another home somewhere else. Or to a section of the grid where not only can I not understand the main language spoken, but it makes no better sense when I translate it!

And by all my gods and all my saints, I am tired of him pouting.

And it's time and beyond time for me to get on with my life.



Up soon: more work on clothes. More eyes. More things I've already made in boxes for sale. More work on the store.

Things are happening downstairs, too. Check the store blog for details.

Above all, there will be changes. I keep saying that, but it's never stopped being true. I stopped being a social butterfly and became a cave spider instead.

I want my wings back.

It's a brand new day. It's more than time for me to fly.

your body's got a feeling that it's starting to rust

Lying in your bed and on a Saturday night
You're sweatin' buckets and it's not even hot
But your brain has got the message
And it's sending it out
To every nerve and every muscle you've got



Surrounded by oddity and I'm trying to breathe. The electrified trilobites crawl over my feet, the translucent chartreuse shrimp scuttles slowly towards the far shore. Strawberries lazily turn in midair. I try to remember why I came here.

I already know why I came here alone.

You've got so many dreams
That you don't know where to put 'em
So you'd better turn a few of 'em loose
Your body's got a feeling that it's starting to rust
You'd better rev it up and put it to use



New Caerleon is the province of more than one artist, and the reason I came, originally, is that someone in one of my groups mentioned a freebie goose. To be plainer, an "excessively large primmy free Canadian goose".

And I don't know how I ever thought that I could make it all alone
When you only make it better
And it better be tonight
And we'll fly away on those angel wings of chrome in your daddy's car
Waiting there for you tonight
I'll be there for you tonight



In fact, when I got here, that's what the box said, and they're not kidding--examples float in the air nearby, gently turning. Like matchsticks heated to burning, suspended in a gravity wave, they hang--one hundred and eighty-six prims worth, each, of "excessively large primmy free Canadian goose".

Even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll
And even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll
And your speed
Is all you'll ever need
All you'll ever need to know
Darlin', Darlin'--

Odd little crackles behind me, wind turning into low doleful ringing tones...beautiful as it is here, this place is not improving my mood. I make the decision to relocate.

It probably won't help.



I'm writing for the Metaverse Messenger now, and until today, was fairly happy with that. But between last week's original story being pulled (not by them or me, but by the subject of the article), and my being asked to rewrite a story according to guidelines I was never told about to begin with...

I mean, I turned in the story by deadline, three pages, rife with human interest and rich with description.

Now? It's a press release. I might as well have not gone to the place at all. I could've turned that in with information on a notecard.

You and me we're goin' nowhere slowly
And we've gotta get away from the past
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast



I mentioned yesterday that W&M Designs is having a beach ball hunt. After gathering up a shell necklace, a wading pool, two t-shirts, and a beach towel--the beach towel being the only dragon-related item so far--I gave up and came to sit and watch the water.

It seems to be helping. Which is good. I don't want this feeling of helpless loss all day. I want to rise above feeling crushed by the pressure of life, and choices, and regrets, and interactions.

Everybody's goin' nowhere slowly
They're only fighting for the chance to be last
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast
It's so much better goin' nowhere fast

But it's difficult. Multiple blows make me more tender than I'd hoped. Hit me once, I bounce back. Hit me twice, I bounce back. Spend the week arguing with me, well...I'm not bouncing back as easily.



And four days, four days I've held off making this point. Held off in the hopes the loves would stop arguing with each other and me, held off in the hopes that things would resolve, held off in the hopes that somehow, from somewhere, I'll get breathing space.



Stalkin' in the shadows by the light of the moon
It's like a prison and the night is a cell
Goin' anywhere has gotta be heaven tonight
'Cause stayin' here has gotta be hell



Maybe it's just not there right now. Maybe it's better to admit it, and fling into limbo for a while, willingly. Spend a day or two, or more...away from the grid.

Dyin' in the city like a fire on the water
Let's go runnin' on the back of the wind
There's gotta be some action on the face of the earth
And I've gotta see your face once again



But I have very few words to talk about this, as usual. Put me in a crowd, I can charm with the best of them. I have turned groups of strangers into at least happily chatting acquaintances; I've smoothed tension into humor (when I'm not inadvertently ramping the tension up) on more than one occasion. I have no ego about this; it's part and parcel of what I do, who I am.

But hurt me...well. I still can't talk about it freely. I still struggle against discussing what's close, what's personal. I don't want people to see me hurting. It's just who I am.

And I don't know where I ever got the bright idea that I was cool
So alone and independent
But I'm depending on you now
And you'll always be the only thing that I just can't be without
And I'm out for you tonight
I'm comin' out for you tonight



Maybe it's another test. Maybe I'm supposed to learn that silence doesn't equal death.

If so, I may have to take more blows to get there...

Even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll (ready to roll)
Even if you don't have anywhere to go
You go down on the pedal and you're ready to roll
And your speed
Is all you'll ever need
All you'll ever need to know
Darlin', Darlin'--



But I don't give up. For good or ill, pain or joy, I don't give up. Tenacity wraps my bones. Sometimes I try, long beyond any hope of salvation, redemption or future joy.

So I'm not giving up now. I'm not, I refuse, it won't happen. I get through this. I will get through this.

It's just been a bad week.



You and me we're goin' nowhere slowly
And we've gotta get away from the past
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast

So I'm breathing, now, enjoying quiet places, idly fishing, idly sitting. I've spent much of today alone. It hurts as much as it helps, but right now, it's necessary.

The only drawback is I'm now worrying those I love. They're not used to me being this fragile.

Well, neither am I. But I won't be here always. Tomorrow, the day after, the week after, the pressure will lift and everything will be fine.

That's the hope I'm clinging to.



Everybody's goin' nowhere slowly
They're only fighting for the chance to be last
There's nothin' wrong with goin' nowhere, baby
But we should be goin' nowhere fast
It's so much better goin' nowhere fast

In the meantime, occupation, breathing space, alone time when I need it. Maybe I'll make a dress or two this week. Rework some eyes. Occupation.

It's going to become more important, I think.



Finally, is Harquire stockpiling weapons to attack other sims? (Click the small version to see the larger capture.) I know it's not so--according to Winter, they're actually floating "FOR SALE" blimps--but it just looks odd. And somewhat amusing.

Godspeed
Godspeed
Godspeed, speed us away...

(Song is Fire Inc.'s Nowhere Fast from Streets of Fire. I've probably used it before.)

your foot's like lead, what did you think I said?

What Not to Wear, 101.



This young damsel was seen at Adam & Eve's BOGOF sale last night (now sadly over, but look for it next year!), as I was perusing shoes to smuggle home. Let me preface everything I'm about to say by saying she is not unattractive. Even though I captured her at an angle, she's got a good skin, a good shape, she looks very pretty. I am not saying she, herself, is a blight upon the grid.

No, that might be caused by the folks at Freesoul Design. What kind of hell crack were they taking when they designed those pants, for example?!? (Click the small image to see the whole outfit.) It looks like nothing more than three sculpted prims joined together, large enough to look like far oversized baggy pants, completely covering each leg. Instead of fabric folds, we have fabric-patterned lumpy plaster--because sculpts? Cannot be made to flex.

Honestly, when she first wandered in? I thought she was walking around wearing sheepskin. I kid you not.

Then the top. Dear gods. Not only is it modeled after one of those standard white cotton wifebeaters, but it's partially transparent. And it's not even transparent in a good way--it looks like nothing more than spilt pancake makeup, smeared into the fibers--save for the translucence. Add in the translucence, and I have to think someone held her down and poured olive oil on her chest, because water doesn't wet things down like that.

And even given it's supposed to be a wet tank--why in the hell would you go shopping wearing a wet tank top?!? In everything else in her inventory, she thought, ooh, yes, let's wear the striped sheep pants sized for six of her cousins, all mashed together, the oil-soaked tank top, with the oh-so-endearing grape jelly stain on her left hip, and hey, just for fun, the shimmery ginger tentacle hair that will not stop waving every time she even thinks about moving.

I'm not even bringing up the child-size denim ballcap chained to those pants, or the fact that the pants in question are low-cut, so the wide lace-frilled band of her white thong--white thong, get that--clearly shows.

Hon, you might as well just stamp "SKANK" on your forehead and get it over with. And this comes from a former escort. For the love of all things, dress better.



Somewhat segueing from there on the lingerie bit, Szentasha at Vanity Universe and the Lingerie/Beachwear expo has pieces I haven't seen at the main store: Xena, and Vampirella. Including a black velvet variant of the Drakulonian fighting strap.

Yes, I'm a fan of Vampi. Shhh.

Also, Indyra Originals at the expo has a free version of the limited-edition white fishnet set she offered a few months back. So if you missed out on the limited edition offering at the main store? You can come by the expo and get one for free!

There's a lot more things at Vanity Universe for the next few days, but trust me--the lag? She is not so good.



In other news of freebies, let me briefly mention the W&M Designs hunt, that's going on until the 20th of July. Essentially, track down a number of small beach balls hidden all over the sim, in and out of the main store.

Sorry, did I say small? Perhaps I should emphasize that. In fact, click for the larger picture, and tell me where the beach ball is there.

Yeah. They're really tiny.



They've completely revised the sim. It's gorgeous now, with trilling brooks, unexpected wildlife--like, f'rinstance, rounding the tree and seeing this gleaming mutant cobra, basking in the sunlight--as well as quiet little getaways and scattered cuddle and relaxing poses. It's beautiful, really, really beautiful. I must go back.

But maybe not to hunt.



And AzA Zymurgy and Lacey Martel finally got their own sim. It's an OpenSpace sim, but still, AzA's having grand fun designing it. I can't wait to see what he's done with it once it's finished.

And this amused me to no end.

I think, after the 20th...when three of the main large hunts close--I'm declaring at least a week moratorium on freebies and hunting. I'm back up over 46,000 items, and that's all from unsorted clothes, skins, shoes, toys, furnishings, jewelry, bizarre Japanese weapons (okay, I admit, I'm keeping the alligator gun--shooting alligators at someone seems so much more stunning to one's victim than simple bullets!), and various other ephemera...from the last week of June until now, I've added more than 3,000 items due to notecards, textures, landmarks, and the freebies themselves. Aaaaack! This must stop!

don’t get ahead, don’t fall behind, stay between the lines

I was beginning to think they postponed the rolling restart, but then we were hit late last night with a frantic "YOUR REGION OMZ IZ RESTARTING" message. Bah. I was hoping...

Though I do find their new "transparent and open" policy humorous at times.

And I know sooo many people for whom this fits perfectly.

In addition, there's a new blog in the blogroll to the left based on this one comment: "'The Little Pirate Ship' is the perfect combination of tall-mast ship and say, oh a canoe.

They bear further reading.

In the meantime, I had a very unusual--if quiet--rez day. I opened it by going to one of the renamed Motorati sims, and watched a six-hundred-lap, dirt-track, sprint-car race. Amazing. I would have thought it would be impossible to do before Havok4 implementation, but no, Katier Reitveld, one of the (editors? Upper-echelon writers? Formal hires? Gad, I need to get to know the other employees...) other staffers at the Metaverse Messenger, said they used to race under Havok1 all the time.

Sounds insane.

After that, we went hunting at the new Baistice store. The amusing part: find twenty "orbs", all round, with little golden bows, scattered about the sim. The frustrating part: "Orb" nine is repeated, so there's actually twenty-one orbs to find, and some are somewhat challenging to find.

There was some controversy with my loves, but all in all, we got through it, and then traipsed off to the Museum of Robots to judge the entries (entry voting stops on the twelfth--if you haven't voted by now, you likely don't have the time). I ended up sitting next to a very well-reproduced homage to the updated version of B9 from Lost in Space, reflecting on two years on the grid.

For my first year party, I had the wall retrospective of photos, I had a cake designed, I had friends and new acquaintances alike stop by. I held a dance. I invited. I did my best to let everyone I cared about know in advance.

This year? I didn't tell anyone. And I have been getting some irked responses over that. Which I understand and grant, but over the past year--and taking the two years as a whole--there have been a staggering number of changes in my life. In all respects.

One year ago, I had a job. Granted, I had a job I wasn't particularly good at, but I had one. And it was one predominantly in the same field I was in before. And then...everything fell apart.

I lost that job, I lost that means of income, and soon to come, I lost the ability to escort entirely--and dancing and escorting, they'd been my main sources of income on the grid. I will maintain until my end days, no matter how far I move from the time spent at the Enigma, and Dorian Gray's, and everywhere else, that there is nothing inherently wrong in a woman making her living by physical means. Sometimes it's all we have; playing on the physical is not, by any means, 'easier' work.

One year ago, I had loves. Granted, I had problems with some of them, but I had them. And some of them I'd had since my days at the Enigma. And then...they fell away from me, passing beyond my reach--some my fault, some theirs, and in either sense, gone beyond reclamation.

I lost them, and for quite some time, I flailed a bit, adrift with nothing to rely upon, nothing I'd known. Job gone, means of income gone, a stuttering clothing line in the back spaces of SLX...and this blog to report all the changes.

Now, one year later. I have a job. Gad, I have several, in point of fact. I host Radio Riel events. I bartend at (though of late, I more run around, trying to find brewers for) der Hut des Jaegers in Winterfell. I write for the Metaverse Messenger. I design eyes and frocks, and occasional textures, for Kartiny, my still-rather-small business, and help in the design process for Autogenic Alchemy, the larger business below mine in Caledon Penzance.

And I have loves. I adore and am adored by three wonderful, deranged, quirky, inventive people, and I could not ask for more. I don't have hours and hours of free time anymore, to wander the world and walk its byways, to dance at any club that intrigued me, to entice the attentions of anyone who caught my eye...I no longer list on my profile that I have a rate sheet for anything.

But the trade-off has been monumental. I am part of a radio movement that is devoted to preserving sounds of an age gone by. I am a junior fashion writer with no restrictions--go forth, they tell me, find stories, turn them in. (Gosh, are you serious? NO other edicts?!?) If I manage to find a brewer willing and insane enough to brew Gauxa Imputitia, then I can start spending a set time at the bar in Winterfell.

Thursdays. I think Thursdays sound good.

And all in all, I am content. It's true, I no longer reach out as far as I did once. I've been burned, and I'm more cautious these days. But I still reach out.

And I'm me--essentially, the heart inside the shapeshifting body remains mine. I'm still growing, I'm still learning, I'm still willing to learn, willing to ask, willing to listen.

Two years on the grid. I'm still here. It's enough.

We could say a lot worse about our time in this place. I rest content with what I have. In the end, when I look back on all I've done to get here...it's enough.

good night, sweetheart, good night

Odd wanderings of an evening, and far too many Japanese sims to wander through. But this is another staggering incidence of glow gone feral:



Way too much glow. WAY TOO MUCH GLOW. It's supposed to add shimmer, not sunburn potential! GAH!



Nekomama in Alice has the most amusing mouse-attached-to-wristbands set for free right now, as well as a cat to hold and some tops. Yay for the mouse set, though.



Did I mention the Japanese are very odd? Now if you're neko, you can get a little kitten to hold in your mouth?

Is this cannibalism or motherhood?



Another terrible use of glow. This is sort of eternally fountaining out of the center of the room. It's rather bizarre.

Apparently they're a particle effects shop? And they have a TON of particle freebies currently. Though many of them are either surreal, or don't make much sense...but hey, they're free. Some of 'em might be useful somehow...



And some free bloody ephemera comes to us from Dead End Hospital. It's a lovely, lovely decrepit build, full of the sound of hissing, wind and falling water. Wrecked start to finish, and in a very small area, so it's interesting. And it has a very specific target audience--damaged people who are in the wrong hospital.

To that end, they're offering a bunch of bloody things in one box, and a bunch of surreal gestures in the other, for free. There's also a dead-black skin, and a dead-white skin, L$200 per. Lovely face work on the skins. Past that there's another store with stained medical beds, IVs, privacy screens and the like.



There's one of the Rezzable chain of sims that's called Crimson Shadows, run by someone named Tox1c Camel. I don't have a SLUrl--I'll try to get one--but this has got to be one of the most innovative displays for eyes I've ever seen. The eyes are on spikes. Even better? They rotate to follow you.

Best of all? They talk. Marvelous display.

I'm beginning to think we need to start angling towards talking someone into donating sim space to us. But I'd much rather just relocate. Mm. Allen favors Caledon Southend; Miss Neome favors anywhere-but-Penzance; and me, I'm just trying to keep an eye on the sales, see what we can afford.

But oh, it would be lovely. Autogenic in its own sim. It's quite the grand dream.

they say we're young and we don't know--we won't find out until we grow

Another lovely perspective on what the real issues are behind business interest in SL.

And you, too, can get My Little Pink Abomination Pony!

Is your bling failing? Get it recharged for free!

*shudders*



Why is there a dead fish outside the Infamous build in SL Birthday? Inquiring minds want to know.



Tucked in the corner of the Linden display at SL5B, I found this actually quite lovely fountain. It was glimmering and shiny and had sedate water sounds.

Of course, just past it, one can see the ultimate Linden irony: the "Be Transparent and Open" mission statement card.

It had alpha-channel transparency.

Which means it picked up buildings behind it and was largely unreadable, due to the alpha texture glitch. I found this amusing.

Also, the Tao of Linden.

Yeah, okay.

Also? Check out the statue of Philip Linden while you're here.



In SL Prim, you'll find the Story of Singapore. There was a grand and fabulous exhibit on the history of the Singapore River.



Singapore River past...



...and present.

Past the dockside area, under the bridge, was a little wandering courtyard, with tall buildings, and small little eateries, and a fountain.



I don't normally advocate sculpts, or fully-primmed objects, but in this case? It really should have been a sculpt, or a fully-primmed fountain, this lion. As it was, it was two textured prims with transparency, so rotating around it deformed and distended the look they were trying to achieve.



Rentals now available in Jesus.

I'm not kidding, go look at the sign.

This realtor's display was down from the Singapore River installation.

dig through the ditches and burn through the witches

First I was bemoaning the earliness of the hour--the closing keynote address of Mitch Kapor, new CEO of Linden Research, will be at nine in the friggin' morning (SLT).

Then I read the blog entry. Now? The address being at nine in the aye-migodstooearly-em is the least of my concerns.

I quote from the original blog posting (in case they catch this later and revise).

(All emphasis is mine.)


SL5B Closing Keynote by Mitch Kapor: Monday 9am PST

Thursday, July 3rd, 2008 at 5:38 PM
by: Everett Linden

Capping off SL5B, Linden Lab board member Mitch Kapor will deliver a keynote address about Second Life as a disruptive technology platform. In addition to SL as a creative, social space, he will discuss the emergence of SL for broader uses such as education, philanthropy, art, fashion, medical research, architecture and design, science, and entertainment. The speech will be held at the Main Stage.

We know there is a lot of speculation about Mitch’s announcement…some of it is good tongue-in-cheek, some of it raising expectations.

To put to rest to some of that speculation—Mitch’s announcement will not be about strategic nor business issues regarding Linden Lab.

Mitch’s announcement will be about a new program that recognizes the achievements of Residents in making Second Life a disruptive technology platform.

We will have video and audio feeds that we will post prior to the event, and like the opening event, we will provide transcripts, audio and video archives for download.

Don’t forget to check out the rest of the birthday events. All are listed on the SL5B wiki.

Two problems with this.

First, the dictionary definition of disruptive:

dis·rupt
\dis-ˈrəpt\

Function: transitive verb

Etymology: Latin disruptus, past participle of disrumpere, from dis- + rumpere to break — more at reave

Date: 1793

1 a: to break apart : rupture
b: to throw into disorder 2: to interrupt the normal course or unity of

Second, Wikipedia has a separate definition, while also implying that this existing definition doesn't apply, because the understandable definition of disruptive technologies are mythological.

Is it any surprise this comes from Everett Linden? Seems everything that's damaging SL's reputation right now is coming from Everett...Frontier is so off the hook...

Well, almost.