returning to Rivula

They say you can't go home again. Well, sometimes, that's because home has become an amusement park.



Things are...very bright, here.



Possibly the Environment I had going didn't exactly help with that.



It was very odd walking around, thinking...over here was the Enigma, over there was my treehouse...head-tilty, and not always in good ways.



They have a lot of rides you have to climb.



And then I decided to go. And...that was that.

Also, please come buy a cat. If you want one. It's that or start deleting them.

and my frozen pulse quickens as the black plot thickens

Wau. Glad I'm not a journalist.

(Seriously, I'm not. I follow the news--most of it--but when it boils down to it, this is a tabloid with fashion tips. I'm a muckraker. I'm comfortable with that, but honestly, either English BBC-tagged blogs are a hundred percent more insane than American 'news' blogs--which I highly doubt--or dear Andrew doesn't get out much.)



Feel like being a Tiny? Tired of the traditional options? This is your creator. Everything from Japanese black bears, to capybara, to Ganesh! Fun, fun little street-side shop.

Remember How to Put Yourself Inside a Coat? Now, learn How to Open a Banana. I'm here to help. Be safe out there.

As was noted on Twitter, this may well be the most amazing wedding photo of all time. But what of the fellow whose lass could not pull open his dress shirt on time?

I'm thinking his secret identity...is the Shadow.

And ever wonder why your sim's lagged all the time? This will help with that. Look your sim up. Note its neighbors. Now you know who you need to track down and set on fire.

Rivula? Beloved former home in the very lowest edge of the Southern continent? Shares server space with six other sims. Gad, no wonder it lagged out all the time.

There's an article in the Imagination Age blog that typifies the main problem with Second Life, Blue Mars, and other virtual worlds (game-based or not): Either you get it, and--to whatever extent you're able--you embrace it; or you don't get it, and you don't stick around, or jeer at people who do understand it (hello, griefer motivation). And there is a wide, wide split between these two states of being.

Victorian...taxidermied...performance art? Maybe sculpture art? Can one have "sculptures" of formerly living things? Perhaps macabre tableau? What's a good word?

In fact, is it art if it involves formerly living things? It's performance art if it involves currently living things. What class of objet d'whatever do stuffed animals fall into, after all?

I can't breathe easy here, 'less our trail's gone cold behind us

Here I go again
Slipping further away
Letting go again
Of what keeps me in place...


(Ruminating at Tweedle. You can find intriguing skyboxen, large tree lamps and tableaux, and a variety of fun and seasonal decorations here, including the highly amusing cardboard trees in several seasonal shades.)

There is a curious schism at present, between lives. I spent today by myself, wandering. From place to place, new-found or treasured of old, I wandered. I was twitchy under my skin, it kept changing. And I was alone.

Alone seems to be how I spend most of my time, these days, on the grid.

I like it here
But it scares me to death
There is nothing here...


(The zombie kissing booth at FallnAngel Creations. Note the new frock behind me--you'll find it under Ballgowns and it's called Queen of Hearts. Spendy, but worth every penny, available in far more colors than just black and white. And the hair in the ad you can find over at Falln Sanitarium.)

Is it a good sign or a bad sign that unless I specially request it, or attend at the urgings of friends who refuse to let me drift completely from the world, all I do here, I do by myself? It's not a bad sign that out of world, I live with, and adore deeply, two people, and know my heart is captured and held by two others. Love, I am not without. Valentine's Day as a holiday holds no terror for me, unless it's what to get for all these varied loves.

But on the grid, now...it's just me. Is this a good or bad sign?

The light is beautiful
But I’m darker than light
And you are wonderful
But this moment is mine...


(Hanging out at the sick sim, above the main drag.)

Maybe it's just a sign of burn-out. I'm no longer enchanted with scavenger hunts, what with the total and extreme glut of them, these days. Even the scavenger hunts for places I adore, like Falln, I don't always attend. And hunting out interesting freebies lacks appeal when my inventory groans at 62K.

All of this dust
All of this past
All of this over and gone
And never coming back...


(Very large angry kitties on the sick sim.)

And really, while I enjoy dancing, and I do want to spend time with my friends...at this point, I'm not even going out of my way to strike up conversations with anyone. I rarely speak in Caledon chat anymore, and I keep pulling open one or the other graphics program, staring at it, thinking Why bother? and closing it.

All of this forgotten
Not by me...


(Ripple effects: looking up through the water at Alirium Gardens. The tree behind me is the Ordinary Tree in Insanity; it's a good name for such a random collection of wildly colored leaves.)

Maybe it's ennui. Maybe it's just something that happens to people who've been on the grid this long. I'm coming up on four years, this summer; maybe all the changes, all the frustration, all the selective deaf ears of the Lindens is finally wearing on me, to the point that I just don't have the patience to spend on the grid that I once had.

I find comfort here
'Cos I know what is lost
Hope is always fear
For the pain it may cost...


(Relaxed contemplation on the green at Alirium Gardens. The dress is part of Nomine's contributions to the Stumblebum line, in particular, the Skully Red Dust Storm dress. To date, it's the only 'babydoll' style I like, and have ever liked, on SL.)

Perhaps that's part of it, too. I'm still recovering from somewhat serious illness--the flu I had did not turn into pneumonia only due to extreme paranoia and overbearing diligence on the part of my loves, pouring medicants and herbal teas down my throat, making sure I kept warm, and making sure I stayed visible, which meant the wee netbook, propped on my lap. The netbook will run SL...barely. When I didn't have the energy to fight through the lag, I sat and sewed, or nodded off, awakened only by coughing or by the next dose of cough syrup, or the next cup of tea. I didn't touch my desktop for nearly a week.

And I have searched for the reason to go on
I’ve tried and I’ve tried
But it’s taking me so long
I might be better off
Closing my eyes
And God will come looking for me
In time...


(Meditating on "Elven" flowers at the Arachne Market.)

I'm still coughing, but that's the last trace of it. To me, my voice is still creak and crackle; to others, it is deep and mysterious, and to be fair, of the two, I'd rather be Mata Hari than a Mogwai after midnight, so it works.

All of this dust
All of this past
All of this over and gone...


(I'm going to have to write and ask, because I am enough in love with The Deck's patio furniture, I want to know how much and where I can get--and while the pieces are all over the shop, the vendors for them are not.)

Maybe the desire to play on the grid will return. I do know that this patch of discontent is hitting at the worst possible time, as I'm attempting to get up and functional both my main store, and the satellite branch on the additional bit of Morgaine. I think there's all of three items, maybe four, at either location, and in Twilight Tears, I'm just unhappy all the way 'round with the build in the first place.

All of this dust
All of this past
All of this over--


(Building over Glidden.)

I may end up just going for a huge, hollowed-out megaprim, the dimension of the parcels I'm allowed to play with on Twilight Tears. Something gargantuan and empty, pattern the walls with stars, the ceiling with comets, the floor with grass...and put in trees and dances and more gravestones and fog....It's not that I lack ideas, just the drive to put them into physical form.

I can see myself
I look peaceful and pale
But underneath
I can barely inhale...


(Drifting down in a bubble looks more peaceful than it is. The bubbleport system just came down at my new main store above Twilight Tears, because we're working on a simpler, less erratic teleportation system. Even assuming that were fixed and purely functional, I just don't have the stock, at present. It's a very large empty store currently.)

It remains to be seen if my unabashed love for SL will triumph over disheartening cynicism. I'm not pulling either way, though I do know that--contrary to the last time I spoke of leaving--I would miss SL if I did go.

Maybe that's part of it, too. It would just take too much effort to leave and uproot everything. I have a home here. I have--if disjointed and lonely, at times--a life, here. And while it's not as vibrant as my first life, it does exist, still. In spite of it all.

I can hear myself singing that song
Over and over until it belongs to me...


(Can't go home again: where my home stood, two years ago, in Rivula.)

The Second Life of today would not have captured me in 2006, when I joined. But the Second Life I joined in 2006 is far, a thousand leagues far, from where we are now. M Linden seems to want nothing but business networking; there's still mass confusion over what's allowable and what's not, in terms of camping, lucky/unlucky chairs, and Adult ratings; and there's deep, deep unhappiness at the Labs. I predict more departures for better, less stressful, climes, by more Lindens who care about people, not profits.

Can't go home again, clichéd but true...but what happens when home leaves us, first?

(Lyrics are taken from "All of this Past" by Sarah Bettens.)

all in the name of misbehavior

Vye Graves starts this post off by musing on misdirection:

SL has no way of judging whether an animation, say, is adult. a collection of prims could be a necklace, or [genitalia]. You can't tell people a place is "safe" from such things with no way to enforce it. Why try?

I will obey whatever rules LL puts in place, but you can bet literally thousands of people will make it their hobby thwarting and griefing this policy. I really don't understand why anyone would imagine this is possible at all.

It's an important point, one we should remember. No one is ever seen--unless they choose to be seen so--carting around a pony nuke to destabilize a business. Yet before the advent of Havok 4, businesses and sims were routinely nuked by people who carried them in invisibly--in their inventories.

I have bustle dresses in my inventory. I have parasols, fans and Victorian and Edwardian hats. I have corsets and bloomers, button-up boots, and full-length gloves in black, grey and cream, embroidered with a minor rainbow of flowers to complement nearly any outfit.

I also have full latex, leather, straps, buckles, lingerie and defiantly adult furniture--from full beds to concoctions of lumber and steel and cuff rings. What stops me--beyond sheer common sense--from rezzing these things out on PG land is if the sim owner has marked no rezzing of non-group (or non-owner) items.

But nothing stops me--save again, that nagging common sense--from dressing however I choose, anywhere I choose. I know how to dress appropriately--and do manage to, most of the time.

Others feel that is an extreme way to curtail their personal freedom, and go on wearing their nipple piercings attached to the draw-down chain which slides between their legs and back up to their collar, and they see nothing wrong in going shopping wherever they want, looking how they want.

And it doesn't even need to go that far. Just the fact that we carry whatever we carry in our inventories, that is not curtailed or regulated in any way--and believe me, I am not asking for it to be!!--means that we have the capacity at any time to be non-PG in PG areas.

Hells. Take our inventories away. We port in to a PG area, our inventories grey out, unable to be accessed. We are still us. And nothing will stop us, ourselves, from speaking however we want.

It's an impossible standard. It will be an impossible standard. How do they propose to disallow personal clothing choices, as well as enforce grid-wide gag orders, on every single avatar that might have need to port to a PG area? How?

sachi Vixen, skin designer extraordinaire, had this comment to add:

I do not understand the idealogy that insists that grown ups need to protected when they are perfectly capable of tping away from an area they don't want to be in or, heaven forfend, close that little X in the corner of the window. I know that there are people who are very offended by a nipple but actually a nude body isn't anything indecent but is simply how we are made. Nudity doesn't have to be sexual, indecent or offensive. I might be offended by spiders, all those legs you know, but are you going to make them all register for a spider licence because I don't like them? Do we ban Michelangelo's David from our sims because he has his kit off or is he a work of art? This kind of thing just feels very unhealthy from a human nature aspect to me and I don't want to see SL nor the internet generally to go in this direction. People don't need to be protected, they need to take responsibility for themselves and for their own children.

I entirely agree. And maybe that's part of the California-centric perspective that, at one point, the Lindens did not want to seem to be enforcing: because that's certainly the American perspective at large. Children in danger? Let's not teach them; let's make a law! Law not working? Let's not teach the parents, let's make a new law! That law not working? Let's blame society instead of instructing communities, schools and teaching centers.

Personal responsibility has, for the better part of two decades, been profoundly lacking in this country. Depressingly so, even. Encouraging people to take responsibility for what they see, what their children see--it sounds logical. It sounds rational. It sounds doable.

But there is that nigh-inherent attitude on the part of people who don't want to be bothered that more legislation is the answer, not better instructions.

In this response, Blondin Linden takes on the 'accidentally naked in infohubs' question:

Good question: Failed logins would redirect based on preferred maturity - instead of dumping everyone to a PG region. This should help curb the AR's.

...right. Okay, for anyone who didn't catch that, let me add a personal detail: more of Korea4 has seen me naked than those I love and those I hired out to, combined. Why? Because Korea4 was the default infohub for the Rivula sim, and Rivula went down a lot. So for the first solid eighteen months of my existence on the grid, I showed up naked in Korea4 when my sim was inaccessible.

Over. And over. And over again.

But Blondin's suggestion wouldn't necessarily work either--say I get or gain a Mature/Adult maturity level. Will this mean instead of Holden, or Korea4, or Mauve, or any other infohub surfacing when my sim goes down, I'd show up naked on the stage of a bondage club? Or standing in the center of the Sex-o-Rama performance cage?

I mean, really, are there new mature/"adult" infohubs planned? Or is this yet another confusing answer-without--answering post?

Vye Graves again:

I vehemently believe that making claims of safety that you can't back up is asking for doom. An adult "continent" doesn't address private sims still accessible by the search, still viewable most likely from non-adult areas. IF, contrary to the claims now contradicting Phillip's interview less than two months ago, they are really thinking about merging the grids, then this is way more of a liability issue.

Doing your best to keep kids out is one thing. Inviting them in with some sad promise of safety is quite another.

"Liability" at the least; tragedy at the worst, yes.

So how long until furries, goreans, child avatars, and anything else that isn't a well behaved, normal adult human is forced into ghettoes of their own? As for those of you among the user community that support this. These people are coming for your freedom, and you are welcoming them as liberators. Wake up and smell reality, because you are probably next. (Nexus Burbclave)

Nexus has a damned good point here.

To the person who suggested that University Professors should teach their classes on the Teen Grid, college students are usually over 18 and are, therefore, adults. It is just that many of them resist being required to go to classes in Red Light Districts... (Doreen Garrigus)

I'm a bit confused about the point Doreen's trying to make, here. I grant you, I haven't been to every college campus in SL, but those I have been to are wide, well-lit greenspaces with buildings, near nothing that even approaches a red-lit road let alone a running brothel.

Are there college students or business people attending distance courses in SL who have to contend with running a gauntlet of vicious escorts, open brothels and people armed with whips and floggers, just to get to class? Anyone?

Doubledown Tandino continued:

(I'm getting a mental image of all these prof and student avatars being trapped in some sort of sex maze getting pelted with pink penises and every single movement or teleport to another location puts them in another maze with pink pelting [penises].... but they do have the knowledge to complain about it, and the knowledge to get to their virtual classroom.)

I'm in SL at least 40 hours or more a week.... for the past 2 or more years... my mature checkbox is clicked..... I never have ever in all my time ever been subjected to any lude xxx content accidentally,.... and on a daily basis, i do absolutely nothing to avoid it, and yet, I still don't see it. It's like people are raising an issue just knowing it exists. I have a feeling all of these 'hey I was forced to teleport to a sim and i tripped on a penis and i cannot avoid any of it' stories are fishtales.

Now, not that that's not an amusing image of the pink penis maze--and it is, it really, really is--but I more wanted to bring up a bit about the either/or tenor that's developing.

The people in Nany Kano's camp are offended at SL's sexual content. They feel it's shoved in their faces every time they go shopping and see anyone in fishnets, or see a skin store with images of nude women, or see cuddles in a shop that may go--to them--that one step too far.

The people in Doubledown Tandino's don't see the problem at all, and by that, I mean they literally don't see it--they go to dance clubs and see women in short skirts, but not naked; they go to skin shops and try on demos, because that's what you do in skin shops. They go to stores and aren't offended by piercings in odd places or latex or leather or cuffs or collars, and they don't get why other people are so hung up on things.

Me, I tilt towards Doubledown's mode of thought, but I can see the other side of the playing field. And while I emphatically don't want to live in a world where I can be so easily upset, I can see why they are. It's lack of understanding, mainly, or maybe a short in the shouldn't meter--they get stuck on what other people shouldn't do, because they don't do it. And they get to thinking soon after that, that everyone should think like they do, because they do.

People in the middle group--and some folks in Doubledown's, to be fair--understand that everyone's going to approach certain things differently, and finding equable middle ground is the most important, not caving to one side or another.

Let's talk about the infamous "Golden Rule", for instance. It's a great example. Some folks know, they just know, what it means, and they can't be pushed from that meaning, through discussion, open conversation, debate or even coercion--because they know what it means, their minds are locked shut on that concept. It's done for them.

Other folks wonder at the deeper meanings. What if you had someone who was trying to do unto others as he would have others do unto him, and he was a serious control freak? I mean, obviously you'd want to be controlled, and have every single aspect of your time with him patrolled, documented, watched, discussed, and restated, wouldn't you? It's what he would want, after all, if you and he switched places.

Or what if you were trapped in an elevator with someone unstable? To whom "do unto others" meant carving things into the walls to protect you from demons, carving crosses into his forehead and down your forearms, maybe holding you down with a knife to your throat to protect your soul from the evil that waited beyond the doors?

Or let's take this out of the stratosphere of "that would never happen" (for most people, anyway): what if one person's idea of "do unto others" includes feeding you coffee made with blessed water, and wasn't Christian? I had a friend who routinely blessed the water she made coffee and tea with, by leaving a flask on her altar overnight, and consecrating it in the morning, before mixing what was in the flask with tap water.

She really, truly felt that was the highest and best good she could do for anyone who stopped by her jewelry store. But a priest came by one day, and someone--not realizing who he was, let alone what--let slip the blessed beverage concept, and you would have thought all of us in the store had personally slaughtered his children in front of him, the way he screamed and carried on.

But to him, to his perspective, she had potentially endangered his immortal soul, because heathens had darkly enchanted fluid meant to refresh and offered it in the spirit of friendship.

Do unto others. It's a tricky concept. What the Lindens are proposing is even trickier--design a set of statutes of approved behavior for non-adult spaces, and approved behavior for adult spaces, and make sure both spaces are kept far apart from each other.

Impossible. But they're trying. Or at least they're telling us they're trying.

Vye Graves isn't so sure:

There has to be a functional usefulness to a system like this. A level of assurance, with, granted, a plus or minus of failure, but at least some means of proactively preventing content from being accessed. The fact is, the content is in mine and your inventory, and we can take it anywhere.

Unless that changes, these measures are meaningless.

I think the concept of the one-day griefer accounts need to be addressed, actually. I know people are very much plug-and-play, download it, drop it, unzip it, live it--but is there anything wrong with a one-day waiting period with a verified amount of log-in time for training on Orientation Island? I never wanted the open SLUrls available to any resident, or any idiot who wants to come in and make fun of the "furfags" and the rest of us, with whatever they wanted to use to crash sims and cripple grid performance.

And Felix Oxide ends this entry:

You are right about content. There is nothing except the threat of an AR to stop anyone from rezzing inapproprate content in PG areas. The griefers aren't going to move along to the redlight district with the legitimate users. They will stay right there in the PG area hoping to get a reaction out of those that do not want to see the objectionable material. This whole thing makes absolutly no sense and the only assurance you will ever have is if all offending content is deleted from the database and all the users kicked off of SL so the grid is empty.

There's a dark sort of logic to that. Do we want protected spaces more than we want vitality and active users? How many users--the few left actually spending money for the game--will leave because of this forced relocation to Pervistan? Do we need protected spaces more than we need to just start slapping people who come in stupid?

Or maybe what the Lindens really want is for everyone to leave, so they have the whole grid back, and they can make it as PG as they want to.

Maybe that's the core reasoning behind this.

If so, it's a lousy business ethic they've got.

to keep me breathing, as the water rises up again

I no longer live in Rivula.

Last night, Hank Rucker did two things I thought he'd never do: take every item back from Rivula, to list it on the open market; and join the Independent States of Caledon.



This was where my house stood. This was where my first tree sprouted, my very first home on the grid was here. Rivula, southern continent, mainland--had been my home for two full years.



Where Hank's wife stands (to my left), used to be the end of the lands Hank owned, and used to be my small portion of 512 home, rented from Jo Talamasca, back when she owned the bulk of Rivula and held it under Enigma, also the name of her club, and my second home away from home on the grid.



Past Alexandra Rucker as we stand in the wasteland of Rivula, restored back to Linden defaults, all trace of our presence, our lives, our loves, our battles, erased--is where the original House of Rucker stood, with the black panel curtains and the coffins in the basement. Just to the right of where their house stopped was the beginning of the back lot of the Enigma, and where the white marble Damani two-story is, is close to where the Enigma stood.

All gone, now. Vanished, with much discussion and forethought, but vanished all the same. Now we move to Lunitarium, and private estate life, and potentially, stop visiting the Second Life mainland at all. For the first time in two years I changed my home point.

Loss.

Darien Caldwell is no longer on the grid.

Her blog has been deleted; her profile is now hidden from search, and moreover, friends of hers say she's reduced it back to a blank, devoid of all information; her XStreetSL items and ShopOnRez items are missing and "unable to be sold at this time".

She still seems to be a member of SL Universe; but even that may change in time.

Why does this matter? Well, if you've never heard of Miss Caldwell, or have never been to Dari's Haus, her store (which is, by reports, also gone), she was one of the best creators and scripters of bondage equipment on the grid. By many reports, she had the single best armbinder on the grid--one avatars could move in, type in, dance in, all without moving their arms, unlike many other 'binders on the market.

(For those who may not know, this is a fairly good demonstration on what an armbinder does, if the name is not descriptive enough. It's safe for work, more or less, there's no nudity, but it does display a rather severe piece of bondage equipment in use.)

For whatever reason--the OS disaster, the downturn in sales grid-wide, the last-straw sensation that many residents of Second Life are currently experiencing--she is gone. I do not know why. But all her vitality, all her products, and the pressure of her presence are now--gone.

Loss.

Last night, Duchess Gabrielle Riel broadcast for more than five hours from a small OpenSpace sim called Gravity's Rainbow. Don't bother trying to find it; if it's not already gone, it will be soon, as the party was to "celebrate"--if that's the right word--the owners' abandonment of the sim, as they cannot afford the staggering hike in tier costs.



We danced while her Grace spun whatever she decided on a whim to retrieve from her vaults of musical history. We danced while she went from sober, to intoxicated, and back again. We danced while snow fell in the tropics, and mourned as much as we made merry.



Towards the end--all I was able to make in person--Miss Deanna Trilling decided to hurl things from the heavens--fireballs, cows, flying pigs, UFOs. It was whimsy but it was also vengeance--because at times, she said, she'd been running that particular item dropper nonstop at highest setting, while running every other script that she could find to set active--and never noticed a drop in sim performance.

She is convinced there's another reason behind the drain on the servers, that lies behind the Lindens' move. She may not be wrong.



She had two large, translucent panels set up to the side of the dancing. They flickered through all her pictures of life on Gravity's Rainbow--love, laughter, friends, strangeness, romance and dancing--picture after picture after picture. It felt like watching her life, and the life of her friends, flare vividly and evaporate, never to be seen again. All those moments gone, from all but memories.

She's not sure if she's going to stay in Second Life, past this point. Neither are her friends, her chosen family.

Loss.

I am being strongly urged to downgrade my SL account from premium to free. I've carefully evaluated the pros and cons of such a move. In my current rental situation, I do not need to be a premium account member (nor was I when I joined Caledon with my first purchase of 1536 meters in Caledon Penzance) to continue renting in Caledon or Lunitarium. To participate in other situations on the SL main web site and in world, all I need is payment information on file--which is there, and will not change. Whether or not I have been basic or premium, I have always had payment information on file with the Labs.

In fact, should I ever gain the funds to buy my own estate, I do not need premium membership even then. Only if I were to buy mainland, would I need that premium account.

And yes, having my premium account (and having acquired an account in Second Life twenty-eight months ago) brings me 500 Lindens every week--if they actually remember to pay me--which is, yes, more than my chosen payment plan of $22.50 every three months (or $7.50 each month, which, translated through Lindex, would net me L$1980 on a straight Linden purchase--so I am actually making Lindens on the deal, so to speak). How'ver, I also could choose to take that $22.50 and spend it directly at the Lindex for Lindens. I may well even gain more net Lindens to spend in world, on rent, on fripperies, on more rent--than I have by paying in that $22.50 every three months.

I have until November 21st to decide.

This is happening all over the grid. When do the losses become too much? When do the Lindens realize that the staunch support they're losing has been replaced by newbies with no investment in the grid, and no desire to stay beyond momentary impulse?

People have been saying the changes started with M. I say they're wrong. I say these changes started out with Philip. But I'm convinced M isn't helping in the least. If the boat is going to go down, he seems to be saying, it would be prettier on fire.

"There's this broad consensus that the Virginia Tech murders had something to do with violent video games. When you actually read the coroner's inquest report, video games are mentioned twice. The first is his mother saying he never wanted to play those video games. The second is his roommate saying, 'We always thought he was weird because he never wanted to play video games.' Yet it's still a truism that violent video games must be responsible for Virginia Tech.

"We have the capacity to surveil and control adolescents in a way we've never done before. We chase them indoors and then we tell them that all the virtual places they might gather, we need to surveil them because of the ever-present threat of pedophiles and because of the ever-present need to market to them. We've really hemmed in adolescence in a way we never have before."

Food for thought from Cory Doctorow. (Unrelated to the main.)

I want matches in case I have to suddenly burn

Well, alas, you're not reading this next bit on the shop blog, which means I can't put it off any more--I never got the Halloween eye pack up for sale.

This makes me sad.

On the other hand, there's still a way for you to get them--and for far cheaper than I'd planned!

Here's the notecard you get if you click any of the signboards in Autogenic Alchemy's main store, Regency branch, or my Morgaine or Rivula homes:

Hello, traveler!

You'll be visiting four spots to complete this hunt.

CALEDON MORGAINE:

If you get sent to the central hub, either use the SLUrl again, or just fly west across the bay--look for the Darkhouse. :)

Setting midnight works well. You'll be trying to find 13 pumpkins and five black bats.

CALEDON PENZANCE:

If you rez in at a central hub, just click the SLUrl again, you'll be brought to the shop.

You'll be looking for 13 orange pumpkins.

CALEDON REGENCY:

Head North from the central hub; turn left on the walkway by the docks (you'll be going West). Walk down to No. 2, and the Octavia--Autogenic Regency--will be on your left. (Alternatively, select Show on Map before transporting to get a beacon.)

You'll be seeking out 13 orange pumpkins.

RIVULA (SOUTHERN CONTINENT MAINLAND):

Wait for things to rez, there's a LOT going on. Setting midnight works well.

You're looking for 13 orange pumpkins and 5 white skulls.

Happy hunting!

Emilly Orr
Proprietess, Kartiny

Now. Some tips. No, I'm not going to give you more than hints, it's not that hard a hunt.

Everything's about palm-size, pumpkin-wise. None of them are hidden inside other things. The bats are smaller, and the skulls (only 5 of them) are various sizes, instead of being one fixed size--and also, the bats and skulls are L$1 each. (They're L$1 each because I have decided on a new tradition: making things specifically for the holiday that will never be resold. At least in those colors...)

There's no defined start and end, and I'm not taking it down until November 3rd. Go have fun. Get the eyes for free I didn't get around to putting out for Lindens. :)

you're running after something that you'll never kill

First off, let me mention the JIRA issue that's arisen on this. Go read it if you haven't; acquaint yourself with the issues, and come back.

I'll wait.

Okay, everyone back? Wonderful. Let me pour a round of tea and become extremely unpopular.

While I believe, to the heart and soul of me, that Caledon is a community, that other groups of private estate sims are communities, that the groups residents make on SL can foster interests, interaction, and deepen that sense of belonging...at the heart of it, Linden Labs is not running a group of commmunities here. They are a business. Second Life is their product. They are interested in keeping their numbers up, they are interested in turning profit, and maximizing successful gaming experience and fostering the brand name over every other concern.

I have been here before, passionately committed on a topic, and frustrated, angry and hurt that they didn't seem to listen. It took me a long time to admit to myself that the only thing that will change anything at Linden Labs at large, is a blow to their financial gain. Because they are a corporation. They have corporate and technological concerns, they will not react one whit to any emotional outcry.

EVER.

Am I being in any way unclear on this? NOTHING WILL CHANGE if no harm comes to their bottom line. That bottom line being profit, financial receipts, technological upgrade of needed systems...for the game that is Second Life.

Let me be absolutely clear on my position, as well: am I supporting the raising of rates on OpenSpace sims? Not entirely; I think they could have reduced the price and still brought in effective numbers. Do I support that Linden Labs had to make a change, or suffer in providing services?

YES.

Do I believe this is a conspiracy, or a "bait-and-switch" something-for-nothing maneuver on the part of Linden Labs?

NO.

Here's something you may not know, all of you who are screaming that this is so massively unfair: yes, Linden Labs told us that four OpenSpace sims would be allocated per server. In certain cases, this is true, but per processor; so in certain cases, there are up to sixteen OpenSpace sims per processor, on a quad-core server.

Think about that a moment. Imagine that. Because of the cut cost of OpenSpace sims, because of the request--over and over, in all paperwork and blog mentions leading up to any individual purchase of an OpenSpace sim--that these be "light use" sims, low scripting, low objects, low texture use--some of these sim groupings were stacked four to one server machine; eight to one server machine; a full sixteen to some servers. What would that be like? What would that feel like, if your sim was one of the ones adjoining, if your sim was one in that same stacked group when one--or more--abuse such "light use" guidelines?

I can tell you. I can tell you easily. Because before Rivula was upgraded to a Class 4 server, Rivula, Lunalis, Lunula and one other sim in the chain were stacked on one server. Rivula for half of its simlife--until the Enigma club closed--was stacked as one of four, with three other sims containing residences, businesses, and dance clubs. Rivula itself had two clubs and one full amusement park, complete with flume ride and bumper cars.

Rivula was a full sim, with full prim allotments; yet, because it was so stacked in chain, there were times I could not go back to my home. I could not go home, period, because home wasn't there. Rivula had gone down, again, Rivula was subject to script overdraw, again, Rivula was lagged, again, because of script usage in our sim, or in one of the sims stacked with us.

This is frustrating in the extreme. Had someone come by and said, to the sim owners--listen, we hear you, we know this is frustrating--what if we move you to your own server, upgrade the server platform, and tighten everything up? Just cost you $300, instead of $100 per month.

I think the sim owners would have leapt at the chance. More stability? Not having to restart the region twice a week? Not having to watch scripted objects die and not being able to reach a Linden for help because stacked sims, in all honesty, didn't receive the same consideration and solid support that sims on single servers did?

They would have blessed the Lindens. We would have rejoiced utterly to get away from the three other full sims we shared that server with.

So breathe. Calm down. Stop bitching. Realize the only alternative you have is to raise the funds, release the sims, or work with people who can effect change in a rational and reasoned way--using logic, tactics, and what the Lindens understand--fiscal accountability.

Nothing else is going to work. And you're just whining without excuse if you think it will.

*sits back and waits for the death threats to pour in, sipping Earl Grey*

^&^

Updates, the day after:

Aminom Marvin has it exactly right, I think:

This leads me and many others to believe that the current policy's rationalization is an out right lie. The most obvious reason is that Openspaces are "too successful" as a product; people have flocked to them and away from mainland because they wonderfully suit user's needs in price vs. land size and prim use, and avoids the problems with ugly builds on mainland and renderlag from having adjacent sims all around a sim. The result is a devaluation of mainland; many parcels can be found for less than L$3 per meter--the equivalent of $600 for a full sim.

Gregg Barrymore--the owner of Antiquity--has stated he is abandoning all twenty-six sims as protest. If his opinion hasn't been changed--then Antiquity is gone. Which means--just from what I know--that Antiquity Texas's amazing reconstruction build of the Texas capital building--gone. Wulfenbach's Consulate building in Antiquity Township--which Mr. Allen and I constructed to specifications for the parcel space--gone. The Marzipan Teahouse Ballroom in Antiquity Haven--which has contracted every two weeks for a host and presenter through Radio Riel--gone.

So just from my small involvement in Antiquity, that impacts nine people directly--and without a doubt, affects many, many more. In addition to the loss of Antiquity as a concept.

Sascha Swindhurst puts it very simply indeed:

It is not simply about the future of open spaces and it's 'legitimate use' (which i think is not supported by this issue)
It is not about paying more cash for a product (as we can always decide SL is another luxury good we can abandon payments for)
It is not about me being angry to our 'evil landlords' who raised our rents by 66% (which would be completely legit as protest in RL)

It is because this measure is one that does no good to the reputation of Linden Labs and their product. There are those who may argue similar things had happened in the past and the grid survived. Those people will also have to consider many customers have left because of these events. In the long run business and product reputation are necessary to keep Second Life up as a product name. You will simply have to be doing better than this.

Will they realize it in time? Who really knows? They didn't all the other times they made unfortunate decisions in the past...

I painted all your pigeons red, I wish I had stayed home instead

It's a funny thing, pain. Everyone has some. Everyone knows some. Spend enough time with the happiest soul on earth, and there will be something, some spot in them, somewhere...on the surface or buried deep...where the skin is thin and tender. Some little wincing spot they likely don't even consider of a day...of a week...of a year.

But sometimes, even if it's just sometimes...they know it. Some dark night they'll feel it. They'll turn and curl and pray for morning, so they can go back to being happy, and forget they were in pain. Pain happens, and it happens to everyone.

For those of us who have more than our fair share, we learn to adapt around it. Some pain can be ignored, dealt with later, dealt with alone, poured into other outlets. Some can't. Some pain, certain pain, will be the shadow in our eyes forever.

This isn't always a bad thing. Pain gives perspective. Pain, if properly understood, can be treated as a tool, a guideline for all our steps. Pain can teach us, if we let it, if we don't let it overwhelm us, if we don't let it make us bitter. If we keep turning towards the world, instead of away from it, it will speak to us, if we know how and when to listen.

On the other hand...

I've said more than once, to more than one person, that I have an almost primal loyalty. My friends have become intimates, in some cases; my intimates have become family, if only in my own head. Scratch my loves and I bleed, I've said that too. And if the world injures them, and I cannot help, it makes me slightly unhinged.

I'm breathing through this one. All my impulses are wrong in this, and I am listening, I am listening very carefully to my own pain, and trying to see my way clear for what to do next. I may end up twitching and biting my nails down to the elbow, but I will stay focused, I will keep listening, as long as I can.

Because there are problems that cannot be solved with bubbly distractions. There are problems that cannot be cured by distraction. And there is pain that cannot be addressed by wrapping the injured up and conveying them far, far away. I know this. I hear this. I know it's right.



In the meantime, I create. Twelve new eyes for the Hallows set and one more--at least--to come, before I package them up for sale. I'm contemplating creating one (or more) as a giveaway for the parcel haunt--not the one in Rivula, the one in Morgaine. Then I just have to remember to tell Miss Looming that we'd like to be on her list.

And try not to worry so much.

And try to sleep. Because I'm no good to anyone I'm worrying over if I don't sleep.

And remember to breathe. Time heals most things, after all. Pain lessens, most of the time. Care, and time, and the listening ear. Everything else is...everything else. Not essential.

Pain has that way about it, too. Distillation of resolve. Carving away all that's not vital, from all that is.

It's a good thing to remember.

I don't know where my soul is

Miss Straaf mentioned in ISC chat a skin that had bling over at Arsnova. Of course, me, being appalled at the concept of jewelry bling, had to see this for myself.



It seems normal enough...and when tried on (no, you don't get pictures), it looked normal enough...bit dark for my usual, but otherwise, non-glittery in all its...err...facets. Pun not intended.

I'm not that sold on their total look, to be fair--the slight gloss of heated skin, or oil, over certain surfaces has never made me fall in love with any skin. How'ver, lest this come across as trashing them completely, I should say--they have lovely eyes. Truly lovely, glossy, reflective things.

These are some of their green sets:



And these are some of their "gothic" offerings:



Both have high reflection, lovely curving along the iris, good distinct patterning. Tad high--L$390 for a pack of five different eyes--but good, clear definition. So maybe they're worth it.

In other news, I'm feeling the need for a change.



I'm just not sure to what--house? New tree? Put up the Kaleidecopia in Rivula and finish tweaking it? Make something new?

I don't know yet. But I'm thinking it needs to happen.

*contemplates sculpting a tree*

deep within I'm shaken by the violence of existing

throwing stones across the water
seeing where the ripples spread
interaction on the edges
of existence



blamed again for circumstances
I never intended
events far beyond my control
but I am the one holding the stones



and trapped in the labyrinth again
ideals and allegory
vanity and shadowed things
far from fitful light



and the world fails



it's not the first time
but in the midst of such dissension
it's just one more thing
one more thing I cannot claim or change



I go to the castle, I go to the island
I fly far from home and far from where I'm known
but I find no answers there
I find no answers in me



and the shattered survivors
lacking limbs, railing at fate
railing at the world dissolving around them
gather for comfort from the dark



there is no comfort in darkness
there is less in light
there is no comfort I can offer
but time, time and more time



and every faery tale ends
the witch in the garden loses her daughter
the maid in the tower finds a way to fall down
the prince gets the cold wife in the glass case
to thaw



me, I get flickers of carnival color
shadowdancing on the dark alley walls
inferences and allegations
as the world falls



I switched from Eye Candy (EC-e, from the Nicholaz line of alternate SL browsers) to a revised Bleeding Edge edition, based on user recommendations; it caused such abnormal, weirdly rainbowed color flicker I had to switch back. Eye Candy still gets me pretty water and glow, I can live without other Windlight features.

Though last night was something else again, entirely. Last night the asset server wasn't only broken, it was on vacation to Brazil. People were missing heads, skins, tails, scripted objects; textures refused to rez out; made prims (that I had made, for instance) I couldn't take back. I couldn't even take back copies.

We hadn't lost the group of asset servers that badly since...gah, I think you'd have to go back to 1.14, at least; maybe 1.12. It was awful. It felt post-apocalyptic, small pockets of scattered creatures, huddled together for warmth in a vast failing ecosystem.

Not the best feeling.

Had some time today after I regained the ability to shift from small burning fae to only somewhat less pale human (ish); and walked through Antiquity Township. My builder says he wants to start over fresh and remake the building so that it's better, faster, stronger...whatever. I'm gently reminding him this should happen soon, then, as the building we discussed needs doors and a lift.

Doors, he tells me, he thought they'd put on if they wished doors; and as for the lift...we're having elevation problems. Prior to Havok4 implementation, the lift went from ground floor to first floor.

Now? It goes ground floor to Mars. And the Antiquity Consulate building is not quite that tall...

I didn't really love you, baby, but I'm pretty when I lie

In conversation with my landlord tonight, I learned it's not just Rivula being hit, and he still hasn't figured out who is behind the attacks.

Neither have the Lindens.

Lunalis, for example, was hit so destructively that 90% of everything in the sim was returned. Lindens rebooted four times from backups on the server before it was stable again; but no one yet knows what's been lost, for sure.

At the moment, because this is the second attack that's resulted in simdeath, my landlord has closed off the ability for non-residents to enter and create things. This will make it hard for anyone not in the land group to come inside for any reason, and will virtually kill shopping, but to be frank, there's not much for shopping going on anyway. Rivula's never been a large shopping venue.

This is not good. We still have to go a long way to match September of '06, with the grey ooze and the replicator attacks...but it's close. And the attacking objects are bigger this time around.

he says, there's barbed wire at all of these exits

Anyone read UUID?

[3:26] MystiTool HUD 1.0.23: Collision with "73772908639014 Linden", Owner: fe165e8d-e79e-4dbb-809e-5918ead67ac0

If it's not one thing, it's another. Tonight? It was giant boxes griefing Rivula.



I love Rivula, I do. I admit it. I unabashedly love the sim, in spite of the fact that it was left on a category 3 server when the whole of the grid had been converted to category 5. I love it in spite of lag, in spite of weird Polish neighbors, in spite of the sheer tonnage of new folks--many of them naked--who wander through the sim en masse.

Which is why it's all the more frustrating when people grief Rivula. Because really, what the hell do we do?



I mean, think about it. We're hardly a "name" sim, even to the folks at the Labs--as evidenced by the fact that they forgot about Rivula entirely when the update happened. We're quiet--by mainland standards, nearly abnormally so--and generally, the only oddities we have? We bring in.

Well, God, sure, but hey, he's mostly gone from the sim now.



But out of the blue, this. Gigantic 'dissenting' boxes. They didn't do anything but exist, largely, but it was frustrating. I got knocked off the dock initially, before we noticed them, and then all hell broke loose in box form.



And people, people, please--if you're going to be stupid and grief some sim full of folks you don't even know, could you at least do something for me? One little thing?

LOOK UP YOUR WORDS BEFORE YOU POST 'EM, WOULD YOU?!?

dissension Noun disagreement and argument [Latin dissentire to dissent]

THANK you. Idiots.

now I see your face before me, it would launch a thousand ships

There are two of these planned. Oh, joy.

Also, my non-Caledonian home is on one of the proposed new Linden road routes! That map section really sinks it home for me--Rivula is, nearly has to be, one of the first hundred sims or so. Wild.

It would explain some things...

there's a letter on the desktop
that I dug out of a drawer
the last truce we ever came to
in our adolescent war
and I start to feel the fever
from the warm air through the screen
you come regular like seasons
shadowing my dreams...

Some experiences can only happen once. Some things are meant to be consigned to memory, and not commemorated. This lesson I knew, or thought I did; I didn't think I needed to learn it again.

Last year on Beltane, there was love and beauty, wonder and delight. Last year I honored my gods in all sweet ways, with dance and merry heart, with passion and devotion true. Perhaps it's only justice, now, that this year there was pain and aching, nostalgic regret and odd longing. I spent most of the night in quiet contemplation, or discussing my life of late with the wandering kitten, who picked tonight to wander back in to Rivula to see me.

Oddly, he hasn't changed. I have, though. And several times he asked, how was I getting by without him? "Not that you need me or anything," he said. Unintentioned dart through me, but I smiled through it.

He mentioned, walking around the changed landscape, that Rivula still felt like home. I agreed with him. As much as I adore Caledon...Rivula was my first home on the grid. It may always feel like that. He told me as much, as I pointed out changes that had altered the landscape he, we, remembered.

We talked of homes and loves as we walked, loss and change, people he knew, people he didn't. We talked of the year past, and forgetting things, and remembering too much.

We talked of us. The conversation kept circling out and back again. I walked him to the small store across from the relocated StarGate, and I pointed out the Boomtown advertisement I'd kept up until Boomtown was ordered, and delivered.

I waited until he left before taking it down, but he was impressed. He remembered Steelhead fondly, the dances, with me and with others, the lay of the land, the heart of the people. He was rather amazed to hear it was a trio, now, not simply a singular sim. He was glad to hear of its success.

It's been some time since I saw him. I didn't expect it to ache this much.

there are days when I swear I could fly like an eagle
and dark desperate hours that nobody sees
my arms stretched triumphant on top of the mountain
my head in my hands, down on my knees...



For reasons not even her husband understands, my landlord's wife has raised a giant Moai head in the corner of Rivula. My landlord took me to see it, and I watched as he scattered seeds for wandering flowers and ferns at its base. We watched them bloom and shift as night turned to morning, idly discussing Beltanes past, and the yearly Beltane dance I had decided not to attend, and the Consulate dance in Kittiwickshire I had decided not to attend, either.

Too many complications. Too much lost love on the air. I admitted I wasn't strong enough to go on my own, and he offered to accompany me. I did consider it, but decided, in the end, against it. Maybe there were larger reasons I was spending tonight mostly alone.



I wanted to revel tonight, dance in the year change, feel the season shimmer over my skin once more, alight in the fire's heat. I had a night of quiet contemplation, instead, spent mostly alone. Was it what I wanted? No.

But it may have been what I needed. Perhaps this year was shoring up, breathing through losses, readjusting to new life in new patterns. Perhaps I honor the gods this year by remembering I loved, and did not lose all love simply because I chose another path. Perhaps that's enough.

it's time now--to sing out
though the story never ends
let's celebrate
remember a life in the year of friends--

Ah, well. Next year for revelry...Perhaps that's justice, too.

(The song lyrics used are from the second stanza of "Ghost" by Indigo Girls [version used for link is from the Harvard-Radcliffe Veritones' performance of the song at their 20th Anniversary Concert, featuring Karen Adelman on solo, Kathleen Maguire on harmony], the second stanza of "Sometimes It's a Bitch" by Stevie Nicks; and the eighth stanza of Seasons of Love from the musical Rent.)

can I sail through the changing ocean tides, can I handle the seasons of my life

((semi-RP mode))

I should have known better. Oh, hells, I did know better, but I did it anyway. Well, no longer. Two very unstable mutations from two separate incidents of exposure to high radiation?



Not again. I don't care who's gotten injured. I'm not going.

But in other news...Stiv hath returned!

...only it's not Stiv. Well, it's not Stiv Kaczmarak.

[23:24] Stiv Rogozarski shouts: I'D LIKE TO SAY I AM SORRY!
[23:24] Sphynx Soleil cackles
[23:25] Hank Rucker cackles too
[23:25] Sphynx Soleil: must be minimum safe distance :)
[23:25] Stiv Rogozarski shouts: EM, I AM SO SORRY!
[23:25] Emilly Orr: Uh-oh
[23:25] Hank Rucker: HEH
[23:26] Stiv Rogozarski shouts: EM, I NEVER MEANT ANYTHING BY THAT
[23:26] Emilly Orr shouts: What the hell did you do now? And why do you have a different last name??
[23:26] Stiv Rogozarski shouts: NOTHING, JUST ASSUMED I'D DO DAMAGE CONTROL

Then...the arrival of said noob:



[23:27] Emilly Orr: AAAAH
[23:27] Stiv Rogozarski: Shit, you got short Em
[23:27] Hank Rucker: LOL!
[23:27] Emilly Orr: He's all....NORMAL!!!!!
[23:27] Hank Rucker: He re-rolled. He's default nubbie
[23:27] Stiv Rogozarski: I still make love to sheep
[23:27] Stiv Rogozarski: I'm all Stiv

I guess so. Good gods, though...So, apparently, somehow, God died--again--on the grid. We're not sure what happened.

The problem is, without the main account of the Lord my Stiv, I can make no changes to the Church group. The Church of Stiv...may, in fact, be dead.

[0:44] Emilly Orr: Um...you have dancing children now?
[0:44] Stiv Rogozarski: Not since I visted the clinic

Well, at least he hasn't changed...

och, lad, I don't know where you been, but I see you won first prize!

It all started the day my vampire landlord acquired 85% of Rivula. He is very near to owning the entirety of the sim, and was considering a new security system.

He'd heard good things about...



(Aren't they cute? Three Turrets square off in the new empty section of Rivula.)

These things. :) (By the by, if you're curious and/or want to purchase one? You can find them here. They're very effective, surprisingly efficient, and yes--they speak.)

How'ver, he wasn't sure that they'd work. They were equipped not to target members of the land group, so--we were the only two in the sim--I dutifully took off anything that might get damaged in the crossfire, and changed my group. I took the first volley with some effort--they're surprisingly efficient--then ran behind them.

First weakness: if you run behind a Turret? They will not shoot you.

We needed to know more.

So, I called out to friends and companions in Caledon, and asked if there was a fairly stable land we could, erm, borrow for a bit.

Duchess of Middlesea, her Grace Gloire Thibaud, obligingly offered. So off we went.



(Setting up the field of combat in Middlesea. Mr. Bubba Daniels, Duchess Gloire Thibaud, Mr. Hassanov and Colonel O'Toole face off against three Turrets and Mr. Hank Rucker.)



(The fighting begins. Mr. Daniels advances as the Duchess and Miss Vi Paravane (just off the frame to the left) look on; Mr. Hassanov charges for another volley.)



(Sadly, your faithful correspondent does not remember the great bear of a man in that amazing cloak[[*]]; otherwise, Colonel O'Toole, Mr. Hassanov and Mr. Daniels firing; Miss Paravane has learned the wisdom of Not Being Seen.)

[[*Has been suggested that said bear? Is Mr. Exrex Somme. I plead distraction from turret fire if t'is, because I should have recognized him.]]



(An important discovery: the Turrets WILL NOT BURN. Also, Miss Neome and Miss Midnight Bohemia, designer of robot and Jaegermaiden skins, arrive.)



(MASS DEATHING. It was chaos. Dogs and cats, living together, CHAOS.)

After I stopped laughing so hard, and reformed in Penzance, I arrived back to the battle, and discovered things had taken a tern for the wurst:



(I'm terribly sorry. Considering the images about to be shown, those were two terrible puns. But onward. Mass deathing on the field of battle--of a different kind: pidgeons. Miss Merlot Zymurgy arrives and is appropriately perplexed.)



(The combatants take to the skies, the better to target the pidgeon soldiers.)



(The Duchess is under attack!!)

After I was set ablaze by Mr. Hassanov--light the bird, not the cat, light the bird, NOT THE CAT!--I ran in a cloud of kamikaze pidgeons. Straight into Mr. Hassanov. Terribly sorry about that.



(Oops.)



(The great Pidgeon War of '08 is OVER! Huzzah! We are saved! Also, Colonel O'Toole shows us his big metal doughnut.)

Which reminded us, whatever happened to his first food-based craft?



(Colonel O'Toole obligingly whips out his weiner for us. Then crashes.)



(We are so grateful for the assistance, we decide to award him...erm...first prize.)

[19:27] Merlot Zymurgy cursteys, well, thank you for letting me get covered in pigeon carcass... it was lovely
[19:28] Hank Rucker: Hmm. I dunno. Am I comfortable in boarding another man's meat... Hum.
[19:28] Iason Hassanov: I dont know where you been boy, but I see you won first prize!
[19:28] You: *facepalm*
[19:28] Hank Rucker: lol
[19:28] Hank Rucker: Hmmm
[19:28] Iason Hassanov: its just all in a days event at caledon
[19:28] You: Indeed.
[19:28] You: So, successful, dire, surreal. Yes, a typical day. :)
[19:29] Merlot Zymurgy: Iason, why are you always in the middle of these things?
[19:29] Merlot Zymurgy snerks
[19:29] You: He asked this time!
[19:29] Iason Hassanov: lol...yea..they said we could shoot things!
[19:29] Iason Hassanov: that always perks me up

I have been your faithful war correspondent, Emilly Orr, reporting live from the front lines.

*collapses in laughter*