hush, hush, keep it down now, voices carry
Voice.
At once both the forefront of invention and the thing most bitterly despised on the grid.
I've said more than once, possibly even on these pages, that I am not equipped for, nor do I intend to employ, voice. That in our text-based world, voice is not the lynchpin to propel us forward, voice is not the deciding factor in how anyone, on the grid, relates or should relate to me.
Voice. It's a bane and a blessing. And it never stops being both.
Perceptive sorts will notice, over the past few months, that the bright white dot of the voice-enabled now hovers over my head--in those zones which are voice-enabled themselves. Don't worry overmuch: by and large, you will never hear me speak. (I leave out such unusual occurrences as the destruction of Saint Kitts'--clearly, I was...*coughs*...overcome.) But being voice-enabled, being able to both speak, when I desire to, and to listen in, whether or not I choose to speak...it's been enlightening in more than just the usual sense.
Voice can be an invitation to deeper intimacy. To hear the voice of the one loved reveals more of their personality, day by day, than even words will; words show the mind, voice carries more of the spirit. I don't think this is an invalid conclusion. I think we can learn a great deal about someone, just by hearing their voice.
On the other hand--and this, I also know full well--voice can be the single greatest barrier to future intimacy ever developed. First of all, because it is so easy, so very easy, to get caught up in netskimming and forget other things entirely. We talk about politics, religion, games, movies, music, books, mythology, computers...we discuss how to make webpages walk the plank and the daily toil of the Goddamn Batman. We discuss building and business, Bare Rose and cybernetics, go on scavenger hunts and forage for freebies and explore the weirdness of Japanese sims...
...and, between custom commissions for him and Bare Rose shifts for her and hosting and everything else for me, there's not a lot of time for...well. Anything else.
Add in the annoying tendency of both the SL voice channel and most microphone equipment to drop out voice entirely in low ranges--so 'whispering sweet nothings'? Will result, nine times out of ten, in a 'What did you say?' being asked across the wire. Which is, you might agree with me, the thing you crave least to hear.
Then, of course, one has to add in the oddity of being me. Let's take last night as the stunning example. At times, for no apparent reason, I cannot speak. I want to; I can make noise; but something prevents the words from reaching through the fence of flesh and bone they strain behind.
Last night? Was one of these nights.
So, suddenly, for no reason, I...could not...talk. Voice was active, open, waiting to transmit...nothing but the sound of my breathing. It was unbelievably frustrating.
I am lucky in that I have a love who was willing to--even with the voice channel active--return to the keyboard and the written word, and slowly, slowly, I regained my voice. But it was surreal to the extreme.
So to those who have not yet ventured into the voice arena...be careful. It could be the thing that brings you and those you love together, bind you more deeply, bring you closer than you ever thought possible...or it could drive a wedge in your relationship that you slowly, painfully, try to chip away before it severs each from each completely.
Could go either way. You make the call.
Literally--the button's on your screen.
At once both the forefront of invention and the thing most bitterly despised on the grid.
I've said more than once, possibly even on these pages, that I am not equipped for, nor do I intend to employ, voice. That in our text-based world, voice is not the lynchpin to propel us forward, voice is not the deciding factor in how anyone, on the grid, relates or should relate to me.
Voice. It's a bane and a blessing. And it never stops being both.
Perceptive sorts will notice, over the past few months, that the bright white dot of the voice-enabled now hovers over my head--in those zones which are voice-enabled themselves. Don't worry overmuch: by and large, you will never hear me speak. (I leave out such unusual occurrences as the destruction of Saint Kitts'--clearly, I was...*coughs*...overcome.) But being voice-enabled, being able to both speak, when I desire to, and to listen in, whether or not I choose to speak...it's been enlightening in more than just the usual sense.
Voice can be an invitation to deeper intimacy. To hear the voice of the one loved reveals more of their personality, day by day, than even words will; words show the mind, voice carries more of the spirit. I don't think this is an invalid conclusion. I think we can learn a great deal about someone, just by hearing their voice.
On the other hand--and this, I also know full well--voice can be the single greatest barrier to future intimacy ever developed. First of all, because it is so easy, so very easy, to get caught up in netskimming and forget other things entirely. We talk about politics, religion, games, movies, music, books, mythology, computers...we discuss how to make webpages walk the plank and the daily toil of the Goddamn Batman. We discuss building and business, Bare Rose and cybernetics, go on scavenger hunts and forage for freebies and explore the weirdness of Japanese sims...
...and, between custom commissions for him and Bare Rose shifts for her and hosting and everything else for me, there's not a lot of time for...well. Anything else.
Add in the annoying tendency of both the SL voice channel and most microphone equipment to drop out voice entirely in low ranges--so 'whispering sweet nothings'? Will result, nine times out of ten, in a 'What did you say?' being asked across the wire. Which is, you might agree with me, the thing you crave least to hear.
Then, of course, one has to add in the oddity of being me. Let's take last night as the stunning example. At times, for no apparent reason, I cannot speak. I want to; I can make noise; but something prevents the words from reaching through the fence of flesh and bone they strain behind.
Last night? Was one of these nights.
So, suddenly, for no reason, I...could not...talk. Voice was active, open, waiting to transmit...nothing but the sound of my breathing. It was unbelievably frustrating.
I am lucky in that I have a love who was willing to--even with the voice channel active--return to the keyboard and the written word, and slowly, slowly, I regained my voice. But it was surreal to the extreme.
So to those who have not yet ventured into the voice arena...be careful. It could be the thing that brings you and those you love together, bind you more deeply, bring you closer than you ever thought possible...or it could drive a wedge in your relationship that you slowly, painfully, try to chip away before it severs each from each completely.
Could go either way. You make the call.
Literally--the button's on your screen.
Comments
Then there is a bunch of selected few that I'll go on voice with just because they are 10 times more hilarious being around when so.
In addition, I'll never conduct business on Voice. I want to have a nice chat log to fall into in case things don't go as expected...
You know, so far I've been an advocate of "when you type it you think about it some first".. but with SL Voice use I've found it to be quite the opposite. I've been reluctant to say things that I'd type without second thought. Why could that be? Perhaps because our voices is closer to us, as opposed that typing is the actual "voice" (ha!) of our avatars?
The bulk of my voice interaction has been voice IM with a trusted few. Outside of the chaos of Saint Kitts, and a machinima shoot with Professor Oolon, there's been one day that I can recall--on Tribute Island--where I joined in on voice.
Overwhelmingly, I choose not to. It feels both more and less personal to me; and I'll agree with you, there's an oddity there. Maybe it's simply that typing truly is the way my avatar interacts, and when I'm in world, I am my avatar.
Which client? Nich's? It's not there in the standard.
Apart from that it's annoying for me to set up. When I DJ I plug in a headset. But it means I can't hear any sounds without it. The issue is having to plug it into the back of the PC which means dragging the desk forward to get at it. If I could plug it into the front it might be less of a chore.
But mainly it's the first point. I came into SL looking for the 19th century aesthetic. Little things like voice chip away at the suspension of disbelief.
I do like the way you phrased it--"The words seem to come from a different part of my head." Maybe that's the exact point I'm making--that verbal skills are not on par, with any exactitude, with the spoken word.
In my case, people in Victorian-era America did not, in any wise, speak the same. I slip in type, but most of the time, at least I'm making the attempt--and I believe that's appreciated. But many, you're right, aren't even trying. Some things are net conventions--ftw, lol, btw--but some things are simply slang of now and not of then.
I was making a similar point to Miss Neome, earlier. We were conversing in IM and in a lady walked to the room I was dancing in. Modern cascade of curls. High spike red heels. Miniskirt flounce and sleeveless dress.
I made the comparison of Miss Callisto to this damsel--that I sincerely doubted if Miss Callisto ever wore even a knee-brushing skirt, but that she carried it off perfectly. She knows her skirt is short, but it is not a modern style, and she is comfortable wearing it. She is graceful and courteous, and that may be the point. There's a marked difference between that, and simply having no clue on how to behave, what to wear...and how to speak.
I suppose with anything there are always those who come into something because it's trend of the month. Sometimes they get it and stay, other times they move on to the next trend. Steampunk is the big shiny at the moment.
See, I'm the one on IRC who still uses upper and lower case, and full punctuation. I understand.
Steampunk is very much the flavor of the day, which is not the worst thing imaginable, but I still maintain that--in terms of Caledon--these are more growing pains, than signs of dissolution.
To that end, we were wandering SteamSky City last night, and the build is substantially changed--for one, it's *much* lower to the ground now, and two, it's got legs--but it was 'new blood' to Caledon--which I still qualify as, all things considered--who pushed through the changes and SSC's rebirth. With uncomfortable moments, an increase in netspeak, and the occasionally skewed understanding of 'proper attire'--is also coming those individuals who are finding themselves fiercely drawn to Caledon.
But yes, I'm still far from sold that voice is an innovation the grid needed in the least. And I've seen far more harm than good come from it, both on the mainland and in Caledon. Maybe it's easier to remember the bad examples.
xxoo
Sumie
To that end, though, bling strappy heels, non-EGL miniskirts, obviously mainland togs--we expect these on newcomers, not established citizens. And I don't think we're wrong for that. There's no official dress code in the Covenant, which was smart of Des, as people will wildly vary on what they consider appropriate. But I think there is sort of an unconscious understanding, on the part of the populace at large, on what is--and isn't--acceptable.
As far as staying "in theme" goes, many of the events stray pretty far from the theme. Jazz dances, modern swim suits on Saint Kitt (*ahem*), DJs spinning electronica...Just how many "Raves on the Roof" do you think the Victorians had, anyway? I interpret "in theme" fairly loosely and, fortunately, so, it would seem does most everyone else.
I admit, I stretch the rules of propriety on more than a few occasions. I have a folder in my inventory called "Bedsitters" for the extreme bustles from Prim & Proper (because really, you could fit a Murphy bed and a hotplate in the bustle of each one, I swear), and I have a folder in my inventory called "Medieval" (where all the drifting wonderfulness from DG Innovations gets put, and I wear those outfits a great deal of the time, plunging necklines, form-skimming curves, everything a Victorian lady would never wear) that have no bustles at all.
I admit, I'm more a fan of Edwardian attire and Erté (to the point of plotting out, at some point in future, a series of Erté-inspired gowns) than I am of the "pigeon-breasted" look Victorian corsets tended to give, and the very large bustles.
Strangely, though, it all comes back to behavior--if I am polite, if I am courteous, if I am friendly--it doesn't seem to matter whether I have a hat and full bustle and full corsets.
Of course, it could just be the upstanding men of Caledon don't mind if some of us aren't always...appropriate... :)
As for "raves on the roof" I think thankfully they're now part of history following the disbanding of CIB. Hopefully we can have a few more balls now that "winter" is on it's way to the Northern Hemisphere.
What stops me on getting further into Victorian fashion is not the cost of materials, per se--we have enough friends who sew, and I have zero problem patchworking material together, I could get enough for my needs--but that I don't know (yet) how to make a corset. And frankly, I can get by with a simple bodice for most fashions, if bodice is needed at all--but for Victorian-era gowns, the corset is essential.
I have been looking around at various sites, and the next time we have three hundred in one place, there are six ladies who would be overjoyed to make one for me. :) But making it on my own, I still end up with the Moebius Corset, and that's guaranteed not to end well.
I love world history, world costumes, though. That's reflected, I think, in the sheer tonnage of attire I have in world. Everything from buckskin dresses to salwar kameez to Victorian bustles to cybersuits. I'm fascinated by fabric and fashion, I always have been.
Raves on the Roof may be disappearing, but I will admit, I do miss the 'traditional' Caledon Rave. There's also something delightfully subversive in attending a dance in Caledon, where modern music is played, in full bustle and buttoned boots.
When we ran corset workshops here they were guaranteed to fill up within days.
Unsurprisingly as a result I know faaaaar more about corsetry than most men and a fair bit more than most women :-)
I even have the references for a Victorian men's corset which I may get around to attempting one day.
OF course, even with that, I'm not normal--I'm terribly amused with Schadenfreude's new 'lucky fortune' offering--it's a full Victorian boned corset in a bright red fabric...which is printed with elephants' heads. Having seen one walk past at a convention some years back, I yearn for a camouflage bustle dress. I've made cloaks of sturdy grey wool and hemp rope around the neck--only to line them with some amusing fleece pattern one would only see if one were very close.
And I'm still plotting out how much it would take to make a completely patchworked hoopskirt. :)