[20:09] ẔẍỷṰḧῒᾆῆ [Zxxxxxxx Wxxxxxxxxxx]: Yawns and closes.
[20:10] [Qxxxxxx Hxxxxxxx]: i never understood why ppl need to make a statement that they are closing the window lol
[20:11] [Vxxxxx Cxxxxxxxxxx]: because it doesn't make a noise otherwise??
[20:11] [Lxxxxxxxxx Lxxxxxxx]: i dunno [Qxxxxx]. maybe they think theyll make a silent point?
[20:15] [Lxxxx Mxxxxxx]: because it's not a flounce unless someone knows about it :-p
[20:15] Emilly Orr agrees with [Lxxxx]
As given in slightly more detail here, I am unfortunately driven to release my parcel of Caledon Morgaine. I have adored it there, and adore Caledon still, but without a steady income (and without my partner's steady income, as she's been released from her work as well, due to the estate company's sudden closure), I have to give up Morgaine. It is my greatest wish at this time that I do not have to give up my small island off Winterfell Laudanum, also...but I am something of a fatalist, and if it happens, I will find a way to cope.
It is a small 1024 section on the main Morgaine Bay, barriered on one side by water, and on the other by the range of mountains that lie between Caledon Wellsian and Caledon Morgaine. It is partially under Morgaine's Floating Mountain, and has a magnificent view of some very pretty builds.
I am asking L$950, solely to reimburse the week I paid so that I would not default; there are thirteen days (as of today, 7 October 2011) remaining on the tier.
However, as I want it to sell to someone who will both treasure it, and to transfer it before I have to hand it back to Desmond empty...I am entertaining all offers.
And tragically, I do mean that. Please leave a message here, or IM me in Second Life, or draft a notecard and drop it on my profile. This greatly saddens me, but I am trying to see my tragedy as a boon to some future tenant of Caledon.
Please, if you are at all serious about owning a section of Caledon, please contact me.
Showing posts with label Morgaine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Morgaine. Show all posts
07 October, 2011
08 April, 2010
she will never learn your tranquility, she will never learn to let things slide off her
Zombie haiku!
Though some of the best ones are found in the comments. Among my favorites:
From Micheal0559:
Nothing hurts me now
Normally the screwdriver
wouldn't have gone there
You are so lucky
I cannot remember
How to use doorknobs
From IrmaCerrutti:
To express oneself
In seventeen syllables
Is very diffic.
From goverlord:
Recent fallen dead
Should not climb escalators
Zombies are clumsy
From Garth432 (seriously, what IS it with people with numbers in their names??) comes a triptych:
Endless Zombie hoard
groping hands and soulless eyes
We've run out of shells
Hiding in alley
Flare gun goes off by mistake
Oh no they see us
Blaghurauhuwaugh
Hurughwhua Grawwaghurugh
Blam Blam Blam Blam Dead
From technologysucks:
I stagger as they run
But beating hearts grow tired
I will never stop
And finally, from notanotherwizkid:
my dentist is dead
he was proud when I ate him
with my strong white teeth
Though some of the best ones are found in the comments. Among my favorites:
From Micheal0559:
Nothing hurts me now
Normally the screwdriver
wouldn't have gone there
You are so lucky
I cannot remember
How to use doorknobs
From IrmaCerrutti:
To express oneself
In seventeen syllables
Is very diffic.
From goverlord:
Recent fallen dead
Should not climb escalators
Zombies are clumsy
From Garth432 (seriously, what IS it with people with numbers in their names??) comes a triptych:
Endless Zombie hoard
groping hands and soulless eyes
We've run out of shells
Hiding in alley
Flare gun goes off by mistake
Oh no they see us
Blaghurauhuwaugh
Hurughwhua Grawwaghurugh
Blam Blam Blam Blam Dead
From technologysucks:
I stagger as they run
But beating hearts grow tired
I will never stop
And finally, from notanotherwizkid:
my dentist is dead
he was proud when I ate him
with my strong white teeth
Much, much fun.
In the meantime, in preparation for Thursday night hijinks, there is now a little crystal orb one can touch anytime at der Hut des Jaeger to find out Thursday's poetry theme:
(That's Mr. Liam Bean to the left in the top hat; proprietress Frau Annechen Lowey behind the bar; Mr. Zaltman Romanas in the dark suit, and new lady Jager Rozas Gartner to the right in the big picture, and Mad Lab Ale--green, on the left; Wolf Creek Feteasca Neagra in the middle; and WCW's Dominacynthe Absinthe in the darker green bottle to the right below the crystal orb in the small version.)
It is located behind the bar, on the upper shelf, right-hand side. (When standing in front of the bar.) Just touch it, or mouse over it, even, and you'll find out what next week's topic will be. Lovely little invention.
Finally, a brief mention of a new find: the Painted Lily. Womens' and mens' medieval fashions, plus flower wreathes, jewelry, and some period-appropriate hair. And this little gem in five colors:
It's L$500, and I wouldn't have purchased it before today, had I not sold that lovely little secondary bit of Morgaine. This is my celebratory impulse buy, and I will not lie to you, I used to have outfits very, very close to this RL (and am determined to have again!), only they were green and brown.
The Persian coat comes with jacket, pants, sculpted prim pants bits, flexible coat 'skirt' with flexible sash, flexible sleeves, turban with flexible ends, a face mask (to keep out those desert winds), and sculpted traditional shoes. A total of thirteen items.
I may even break my struggling-to-save-Lindens habits, and buy at least the purple, if not the purple and the cream. They really are amazingly well done, and they're the only styles like this I've found in recent travels.
And the face mask doesn't kill my whiskers! Yay!
It comes in blue, brown, buff, purple, and the grey I showed off, which Miss Meriman actually terms 'black'. They're very, very traditional in appearance, perfect for medieval and desert-land roleplay sims. Also jaunting about anywhere, I would assume...Don't be surprised if those of you who see me, see me around in this over the next week.
23 February, 2010
she just looked at me, uncomprehendingly, like cows at a passing train
New article out at MMORPG on player housing I found somewhat interesting, for two reasons: first, the sideline inference that future MMOs under development are using the Second Life engine as a jumping-off point to build multi-player games (and if that's really what's going on, WAU for open-sourcing Second Life!), and second, that multiple different designs for homes--or any large displayed areas, really--butchers performance on single machines because of the multiple draw calls.
So, we've known this for a while--large-textured builds--who use lots of individual textures--cause lag. Lag = performance. Multiple draw calls, then = lag. Huh.
So the solution would be--if Second Life were a game--to reduce the number of allowed textures, and the problem is solved, right?
Save...SL doesn't work that way.
The Second Life 2.0 viewer is available now, the SL blog trumpets--or, at least, the beta version. And as anyone who has any experience with beta programs knows, "beta" means "the end version may drastically change and nothing you spend arduous time learning will remain fixed. Thanks for helping us find all the bugs so we don't have to pay people!"
The first thing I'd advise everyone to do is watch the video--it's embedded in the blog, but really, you need to view it, big as you can, because it's priceless.
This is the future! They've decided to be Firefox with bad jazz! It's INCREDIBLE!
Okay, okay, I'll stop being sarcastic, but really, that's what they've done--they've equated 'viewer' with 'browser', and they're fairly sure this will be so simple and easy to use, even a cavema--I mean, a newcomer could use it. And it's endlessly customizable--three minutes in, SB Linden has said those two words at least three times.
They also have introduced two new inventory types--along with a new 'alpha mesh' wearable item, they've introduced a 'tattoo' layer. What I want to know--and what I'll have to test out--is, does the 'tattoo' layer have to be a texture layer, or can you take any previous costume-layer tattoo and punch it in to the tattoo spot? Because that would be damned useful.
At 4:43 everything stopped for me. I literally paused the video and just stared at SB Linden in total shock. Let me reprint what she says here, because I'm still reeling:
"Second, is a list view called 'My Outfits'. Outfits are a new special type of folder in viewer 2 that allow you to save an entire look. You can quickly switch between outfits by selecting the one you want to wear from this list, and then clicking the 'wear' button."
So...let me get this straight. They've implemented a feature that is the same thing as taking the outfit you want to wear, the skin, hair, eyes, and a bald cap if you want, shape, shoes and accessories desired, and putting all of that in a folder and naming it, oh, I don't know, "Special Outfit"...and then right-clicking that folder to put it on. I'm told the plus on this is that you can move no-copy items to these outfit folders, because you're not actually putting the original items on, you're just compiling a folder with links to the actual items.
I guess...but it still seems redundant.
From the blog itself:
"We looked carefully at the experience design of other successful social media and technology platforms--such as the web browser, Facebook, the iPhone, Twitter, etc.--and the key elements that enabled them to reach mass adoption. You'll see much of that thinking baked into new Viewer 2 experience design."
So...again, everything we've been telling the Lindens is a bad, bad idea...they're going to implement. Because they don't listen to us. Because they want their world to fail? Because they want their residents to run off screaming? What? I honestly don't get it. What is driving them to the cliff like lemmings running after Facebook?
The first good thing I noticed in the browser itself is active links on login. Remember how many times you've seen the little bit.ly links logging in, that are all text, so you can't click and check them out? They're more annoyances than anything; by the time I hunt down pen and paper, or pop open a text file, I've logged in and it's gone.
Now? You can click them, so that's a benefit. Of sorts.
The second thing I noticed was, they're still having the appearance bug, of rezzing in and being ghosted. I can't even get to that yet, because I'm coping with half my screen being blocked by various things I can do, and trying to figure out where my notices went. Then I see several light grey boxes on the lower half of the screen and spend the next ten minutes going through notices, laboriously, having to agree twice for everything I click "Keep". This is annoying and redundant.
And then disaster struck.
[7:00] Emilly Orr: AGH
There's already a JIRA issue about the scroll bars in place profiles not working; this is a bad thing for estate managers and people who own their own parcels, AND ANYONE WHO NEEDS LAND TOOLS--which is, frankly, EVERYONE.
I'll try it out when I have more time, but first impressions with me, as with many people, do tend to last--and my first impression of viewer 2.0 is now batched up in a neat little package of frustration, panic, and rage, tied with a pretty barbed-wire bow sprinkled with napalm. To simplify....it's a bad viewer. Bad bad bad.
Unless you have digitigrade legs, in which case, it ROCKS COMPLETELY OMG NO MORE INVISIPRIMS TO MAKE YOUR LEGS BEND BACKWARDS THANK YOU LINDENS FOR LOVING THE FURS SO MUCH...or so I've heard.
If that's the only thing good about this viewer? Go back to the drawing board, Lindens, you need some major frigging revisions before this puppy goes live for real.
But the furs thank you for making their bendy-leg problems go away. So hey, you got one thing right...
So, we've known this for a while--large-textured builds--who use lots of individual textures--cause lag. Lag = performance. Multiple draw calls, then = lag. Huh.
So the solution would be--if Second Life were a game--to reduce the number of allowed textures, and the problem is solved, right?
Save...SL doesn't work that way.
The Second Life 2.0 viewer is available now, the SL blog trumpets--or, at least, the beta version. And as anyone who has any experience with beta programs knows, "beta" means "the end version may drastically change and nothing you spend arduous time learning will remain fixed. Thanks for helping us find all the bugs so we don't have to pay people!"
The first thing I'd advise everyone to do is watch the video--it's embedded in the blog, but really, you need to view it, big as you can, because it's priceless.
This is the future! They've decided to be Firefox with bad jazz! It's INCREDIBLE!
Okay, okay, I'll stop being sarcastic, but really, that's what they've done--they've equated 'viewer' with 'browser', and they're fairly sure this will be so simple and easy to use, even a cavema--I mean, a newcomer could use it. And it's endlessly customizable--three minutes in, SB Linden has said those two words at least three times.
They also have introduced two new inventory types--along with a new 'alpha mesh' wearable item, they've introduced a 'tattoo' layer. What I want to know--and what I'll have to test out--is, does the 'tattoo' layer have to be a texture layer, or can you take any previous costume-layer tattoo and punch it in to the tattoo spot? Because that would be damned useful.
At 4:43 everything stopped for me. I literally paused the video and just stared at SB Linden in total shock. Let me reprint what she says here, because I'm still reeling:
"Second, is a list view called 'My Outfits'. Outfits are a new special type of folder in viewer 2 that allow you to save an entire look. You can quickly switch between outfits by selecting the one you want to wear from this list, and then clicking the 'wear' button."
So...let me get this straight. They've implemented a feature that is the same thing as taking the outfit you want to wear, the skin, hair, eyes, and a bald cap if you want, shape, shoes and accessories desired, and putting all of that in a folder and naming it, oh, I don't know, "Special Outfit"...and then right-clicking that folder to put it on. I'm told the plus on this is that you can move no-copy items to these outfit folders, because you're not actually putting the original items on, you're just compiling a folder with links to the actual items.
I guess...but it still seems redundant.
From the blog itself:
"We looked carefully at the experience design of other successful social media and technology platforms--such as the web browser, Facebook, the iPhone, Twitter, etc.--and the key elements that enabled them to reach mass adoption. You'll see much of that thinking baked into new Viewer 2 experience design."
So...again, everything we've been telling the Lindens is a bad, bad idea...they're going to implement. Because they don't listen to us. Because they want their world to fail? Because they want their residents to run off screaming? What? I honestly don't get it. What is driving them to the cliff like lemmings running after Facebook?
The first good thing I noticed in the browser itself is active links on login. Remember how many times you've seen the little bit.ly links logging in, that are all text, so you can't click and check them out? They're more annoyances than anything; by the time I hunt down pen and paper, or pop open a text file, I've logged in and it's gone.
Now? You can click them, so that's a benefit. Of sorts.
The second thing I noticed was, they're still having the appearance bug, of rezzing in and being ghosted. I can't even get to that yet, because I'm coping with half my screen being blocked by various things I can do, and trying to figure out where my notices went. Then I see several light grey boxes on the lower half of the screen and spend the next ten minutes going through notices, laboriously, having to agree twice for everything I click "Keep". This is annoying and redundant.
And then disaster struck.
[7:00] Emilly Orr: AGH
[7:00] Emilly Orr: HATRED
[7:00] Emilly Orr: BILE
[7:01] Emilly Orr: leaving for Snowglobe
[7:01] Fawkes Allen: >_>
[7:01] Fawkes Allen: Did you even give it a chance?
[7:01] Emilly Orr: I did
[7:01] Emilly Orr: I logged in
How'ver, I did log back in, to try to figure things out. The first thing I figured out was that music streams automatically start; it's not a pure user on/off thing anymore. At the bottom of the volume bar is a little gear; clicking that brings up the direct volume settings (which used to be tidily down on the bottom of the browser window). The location of the media streams (which used to be accessed via a single intuitive click of the land name) proved nigh inaccessible, so while I have Fawkes trying to talk me down from DefCon 2, and me clawing at my desk with my headphones blaring--because the stream was apparently set to DEAFEN in he new client--I'm just trying to find the land tools so I can gut the sound entirely.
The second thing? Getting the chat windows back to tabs, not individual windows. This required getting into Preference settings, then into Chat, then clicking the button for Tabs over Separate Windows...and then restarting the damned viewer, because apparently it can't make these kinds of changes on the fly.
My next unpleasant surprise? There are no camera controls. Let me say that again, because to me, functioning for four years with them, that's vaguely important: THERE ARE NO CAMERA CONTROLS. Instead, we have a single button called "View", which controls both camera and movement, including 'group view', back-of-the-head view (I would suppose that translates to 'standard'), "front" view, and mouselook. Without calling it mouselook, of course.
This is going to make my style of picture-taking IM. POSSIBLE.
There's also a pure cam view, and BOY is it sensitive. In the space of one scroll I went from in the skybox to outside Morgaine entirely.
I hate this viewer. HATE. This viewer. I want not to hate it, but I hate it; I want not to kick the Lindens repeatedly until they stop screwing up the things that work, but I really want to do that too.
So much for building tonight. So much for SL, tonight, if it has to be under the 2.0 viewer.
[7:01] Emilly Orr: Two lines for every single line of chat in group chat
[7:01] Emilly Orr: Individual group chat windows, no tabs, no simple aligning of chat windows out of the way
Fawkes wants me to log in, because he says there's fixes for these things, but damn it, I'm in the middle of trying to get a store that I can stand up and running and I DO NOT NEED TO DEAL WITH THIS CRAP.[7:01] Emilly Orr: If I'm in more than two chats, I HAVE NO WINDOW SPACE
[7:02] Emilly Orr: It is dead to me
How'ver, I did log back in, to try to figure things out. The first thing I figured out was that music streams automatically start; it's not a pure user on/off thing anymore. At the bottom of the volume bar is a little gear; clicking that brings up the direct volume settings (which used to be tidily down on the bottom of the browser window). The location of the media streams (which used to be accessed via a single intuitive click of the land name) proved nigh inaccessible, so while I have Fawkes trying to talk me down from DefCon 2, and me clawing at my desk with my headphones blaring--because the stream was apparently set to DEAFEN in he new client--I'm just trying to find the land tools so I can gut the sound entirely.
The second thing? Getting the chat windows back to tabs, not individual windows. This required getting into Preference settings, then into Chat, then clicking the button for Tabs over Separate Windows...and then restarting the damned viewer, because apparently it can't make these kinds of changes on the fly.
My next unpleasant surprise? There are no camera controls. Let me say that again, because to me, functioning for four years with them, that's vaguely important: THERE ARE NO CAMERA CONTROLS. Instead, we have a single button called "View", which controls both camera and movement, including 'group view', back-of-the-head view (I would suppose that translates to 'standard'), "front" view, and mouselook. Without calling it mouselook, of course.
This is going to make my style of picture-taking IM. POSSIBLE.
There's also a pure cam view, and BOY is it sensitive. In the space of one scroll I went from in the skybox to outside Morgaine entirely.
I hate this viewer. HATE. This viewer. I want not to hate it, but I hate it; I want not to kick the Lindens repeatedly until they stop screwing up the things that work, but I really want to do that too.
So much for building tonight. So much for SL, tonight, if it has to be under the 2.0 viewer.
There's already a JIRA issue about the scroll bars in place profiles not working; this is a bad thing for estate managers and people who own their own parcels, AND ANYONE WHO NEEDS LAND TOOLS--which is, frankly, EVERYONE.
I'll try it out when I have more time, but first impressions with me, as with many people, do tend to last--and my first impression of viewer 2.0 is now batched up in a neat little package of frustration, panic, and rage, tied with a pretty barbed-wire bow sprinkled with napalm. To simplify....it's a bad viewer. Bad bad bad.
Unless you have digitigrade legs, in which case, it ROCKS COMPLETELY OMG NO MORE INVISIPRIMS TO MAKE YOUR LEGS BEND BACKWARDS THANK YOU LINDENS FOR LOVING THE FURS SO MUCH...or so I've heard.
If that's the only thing good about this viewer? Go back to the drawing board, Lindens, you need some major frigging revisions before this puppy goes live for real.
But the furs thank you for making their bendy-leg problems go away. So hey, you got one thing right...
21 February, 2010
through my lungs as the dust settles
Just to note in passing--and I left a similar comment on the blog in question--but Whisper at FabFree has an amazing shape for Second Life. She is rounded without pushing the limits of the mesh; she reminds me a bit of Angel with darker hair. Very well done, Whisper.
Noted on Schnaeppchen's blog, this outfit from Burlesque Lucrezia. It's sort of tucked out of the way as a small wall placard. Looks very worthwhile.
Damien Kulash, Jr. takes on EMI in an opinion piece in the New York Times. If that name doesn't ring any bells, he's the lead singer and main guitarist for OK GO. (And if that doesn't ring any bells, this is the infamous "Treadmill" video he talks about in that article. Although I admit, I've always preferred this one, the so-called "wallpaper version" of "Do What You Want".)
From the piece:
"The numbers are shocking: When EMI disabled the embedding feature, views of our treadmill video dropped 90 percent, from about 10,000 per day to just over 1,000. Our last royalty statement from the label, which covered six months of streams, shows a whopping $27.77 credit to our account."
The numbers are shocking, and very telling; and this is also why, for their current album, OK GO is marketing an mp3-only version, along with a full shippable CD version, and two separate "I want everything" limited editions on their own site. Why? Because true devotees of the band who want such limited editions will pay for them--which will keep them creating music and covering the costs of touring that EMI may or may not be doing at present. And for the rest of us, $10 will buy us a full album with artwork and case, or shave a dollar from that and get all the songs without the album notes and artwork. And they'll make sales at those prices, too. Everybody's happy.
Except EMI.
Dusan Writer tipped me towards a scathing indictment of Sony 'Home'. Whatever they wanted it to be, it wasn't this:
"According to some digital buyers, Home exemplifies Sony’s slow-footed nature when it comes to embracing advertising."
Yeah. While they still have Red Bull, and by report, the Army is running a current campaign, most other advertisers have crept away from the strong scent of virtual failure.
'Home', meet Lively. You'll be hanging out in limbo with it soon enough.
Also from Dusan Writer--the Facebook game "Farmville" hits eighty million users. I get that people are playing it, believe me, I know that; and it even goes into why. While a lot of it is hit and miss (there's really no magic recipe for finding "the next big thing"), I'm thinking of the Nintendo game Harvest Moon and Second Life's (now slightly waning) obsession with growing, feeding and breeding virtual chickens. Whatever it is that draws the privileged towards farming without the consequences (when your crops fail in Farmville, your family doesn't starve; and there's not one single chicken in Second Life you have to run down and kill for dinner), it's huge, and it looks like it's only getting bigger.
By way of Miss Muse Carmona: "The first follower transforms a lone nut into a leader." Funny, but well put--and well demonstrated by the video.
While I like the basic concept behind Microsoft's current research that links physical/emotional health markers with avatar appearance and flexibility to play games (ostensibly to encourage good health and exercise), it still seems a bit too close to Big Brother telling me when I can go places, when I must stop being on the computer, when I must sleep...
*grins* Okay, I have a set bedtime, but one, that's personal, not impartially set according to industry guidelines, and second, I'm a lifetime insomniac and we're really, really trying to break that pattern. It's not the same thing.
Finally し て く だ さ い. 6. when the product を タ ッ チ し た あ と, チ ャ ッ ト に “/987 reload” と enters the strength し て く だ さ い. こ れ で ノ ー ト カ ー ド を 読 み 込 み ま す. エ ラ ー に な ら な け れ ば preparation が で す. エ ラ ー と な る the situation, the commodity テ ク ス チ ャ ー name, business commodity name が disobeys っ て い な い か the confirmation し て once again タ ッ チ か ら や り straight し て く だ さ い. 7. ス キ ン セ ッ ト を writes down し た the situation, When the product を タ ッ チ し た あ と, チ ャ ッ ト に “/987 skin” と enters the strength し て く だ さ い. こ れ で ス キ ン セ ッ ト が cuts り for わ り ま す. The plural number writes down し た the situation は goal
I bought a 'lucky board' type of thing. It's not that I paid so very much for it, but it's that it's entirely in...this. It's not Japanese. It's not Chinese, strictly. I've run it through Babelfish and t's not the same thing. I initially ran it through Google Translate on Chinese setting, and got back hash again.
But I noticed Google Translate now has something new--about mid-way down the list of languages there's a line that says simply, 'Detect language'.
I switched to that.
Purchasing a W INITIAL CHANCE you very, very thoughtful.
This product will display the initial randomly at regular time intervals, when you touch the appropriate way,
If you give them your registered products, products that are kind of so-called LuckyBoard said.
Our product features, not just first name, last name and initials also elected
Is a specification that is.
Other specifications, skin sets (fonts, backgrounds of character display, the display part-time tech products OFF
Sucha, a set of sound at the time of election) can be set into the content, the skin
May be able to be switched.
To own and texture, or change your preferences, and change to normal when the event
Ete and use, providing maximum flexibility.
Please use the products as a tool to attract customers come
Um. Thank you, Google Translate?
From Adbusters magazine, comes a definition of altermodernism. I don't entirely agree, or understand, but they seem convinced. The most I pulled from it--blurring the lines is a bad thing, but we need to reinstate the categorical opposing systems without polarizing into 'good' and 'bad' definitions--thus, we need to blur the lines on polarizing systems?
Isn't that what we're doing now?
I'm working on getting two shops up and running so I can take out ads with them. Or at least the larger one. The one in Caledon Morgaine is still so incredibly empty. I'm just running out of energy to track down vendor-things and put them up. I'll work on it.
Finally, RL because I simply have to spread this wider: Andrew Koenig is missing. There was some initial concern that this might be a stunt to drum up interest in a future comedic project; but I sincerely do not believe Walter Koenig would post that much information about his son and have it lead to a joke in the end. He's a funny man; he's very talented; but he wouldn't bandy about a disappearance of a child to fake us all out.
If you're in Vancouver, and you see Andrew Koenig, or hear of his whereabouts, please leave a comment in Koenig's guestbook. He and his wife will be in Vancouver soon to help with the investigation.
Noted on Schnaeppchen's blog, this outfit from Burlesque Lucrezia. It's sort of tucked out of the way as a small wall placard. Looks very worthwhile.
Damien Kulash, Jr. takes on EMI in an opinion piece in the New York Times. If that name doesn't ring any bells, he's the lead singer and main guitarist for OK GO. (And if that doesn't ring any bells, this is the infamous "Treadmill" video he talks about in that article. Although I admit, I've always preferred this one, the so-called "wallpaper version" of "Do What You Want".)
From the piece:
"The numbers are shocking: When EMI disabled the embedding feature, views of our treadmill video dropped 90 percent, from about 10,000 per day to just over 1,000. Our last royalty statement from the label, which covered six months of streams, shows a whopping $27.77 credit to our account."
The numbers are shocking, and very telling; and this is also why, for their current album, OK GO is marketing an mp3-only version, along with a full shippable CD version, and two separate "I want everything" limited editions on their own site. Why? Because true devotees of the band who want such limited editions will pay for them--which will keep them creating music and covering the costs of touring that EMI may or may not be doing at present. And for the rest of us, $10 will buy us a full album with artwork and case, or shave a dollar from that and get all the songs without the album notes and artwork. And they'll make sales at those prices, too. Everybody's happy.
Except EMI.
Dusan Writer tipped me towards a scathing indictment of Sony 'Home'. Whatever they wanted it to be, it wasn't this:
"According to some digital buyers, Home exemplifies Sony’s slow-footed nature when it comes to embracing advertising."
Yeah. While they still have Red Bull, and by report, the Army is running a current campaign, most other advertisers have crept away from the strong scent of virtual failure.
'Home', meet Lively. You'll be hanging out in limbo with it soon enough.
Also from Dusan Writer--the Facebook game "Farmville" hits eighty million users. I get that people are playing it, believe me, I know that; and it even goes into why. While a lot of it is hit and miss (there's really no magic recipe for finding "the next big thing"), I'm thinking of the Nintendo game Harvest Moon and Second Life's (now slightly waning) obsession with growing, feeding and breeding virtual chickens. Whatever it is that draws the privileged towards farming without the consequences (when your crops fail in Farmville, your family doesn't starve; and there's not one single chicken in Second Life you have to run down and kill for dinner), it's huge, and it looks like it's only getting bigger.
By way of Miss Muse Carmona: "The first follower transforms a lone nut into a leader." Funny, but well put--and well demonstrated by the video.
While I like the basic concept behind Microsoft's current research that links physical/emotional health markers with avatar appearance and flexibility to play games (ostensibly to encourage good health and exercise), it still seems a bit too close to Big Brother telling me when I can go places, when I must stop being on the computer, when I must sleep...
*grins* Okay, I have a set bedtime, but one, that's personal, not impartially set according to industry guidelines, and second, I'm a lifetime insomniac and we're really, really trying to break that pattern. It's not the same thing.
Finally し て く だ さ い. 6. when the product を タ ッ チ し た あ と, チ ャ ッ ト に “/987 reload” と enters the strength し て く だ さ い. こ れ で ノ ー ト カ ー ド を 読 み 込 み ま す. エ ラ ー に な ら な け れ ば preparation が で す. エ ラ ー と な る the situation, the commodity テ ク ス チ ャ ー name, business commodity name が disobeys っ て い な い か the confirmation し て once again タ ッ チ か ら や り straight し て く だ さ い. 7. ス キ ン セ ッ ト を writes down し た the situation, When the product を タ ッ チ し た あ と, チ ャ ッ ト に “/987 skin” と enters the strength し て く だ さ い. こ れ で ス キ ン セ ッ ト が cuts り for わ り ま す. The plural number writes down し た the situation は goal
I bought a 'lucky board' type of thing. It's not that I paid so very much for it, but it's that it's entirely in...this. It's not Japanese. It's not Chinese, strictly. I've run it through Babelfish and t's not the same thing. I initially ran it through Google Translate on Chinese setting, and got back hash again.
But I noticed Google Translate now has something new--about mid-way down the list of languages there's a line that says simply, 'Detect language'.
I switched to that.
Purchasing a W INITIAL CHANCE you very, very thoughtful.
This product will display the initial randomly at regular time intervals, when you touch the appropriate way,
If you give them your registered products, products that are kind of so-called LuckyBoard said.
Our product features, not just first name, last name and initials also elected
Is a specification that is.
Other specifications, skin sets (fonts, backgrounds of character display, the display part-time tech products OFF
Sucha, a set of sound at the time of election) can be set into the content, the skin
May be able to be switched.
To own and texture, or change your preferences, and change to normal when the event
Ete and use, providing maximum flexibility.
Please use the products as a tool to attract customers come
Um. Thank you, Google Translate?
From Adbusters magazine, comes a definition of altermodernism. I don't entirely agree, or understand, but they seem convinced. The most I pulled from it--blurring the lines is a bad thing, but we need to reinstate the categorical opposing systems without polarizing into 'good' and 'bad' definitions--thus, we need to blur the lines on polarizing systems?
Isn't that what we're doing now?
I'm working on getting two shops up and running so I can take out ads with them. Or at least the larger one. The one in Caledon Morgaine is still so incredibly empty. I'm just running out of energy to track down vendor-things and put them up. I'll work on it.
Finally, RL because I simply have to spread this wider: Andrew Koenig is missing. There was some initial concern that this might be a stunt to drum up interest in a future comedic project; but I sincerely do not believe Walter Koenig would post that much information about his son and have it lead to a joke in the end. He's a funny man; he's very talented; but he wouldn't bandy about a disappearance of a child to fake us all out.
If you're in Vancouver, and you see Andrew Koenig, or hear of his whereabouts, please leave a comment in Koenig's guestbook. He and his wife will be in Vancouver soon to help with the investigation.
14 February, 2010
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.)
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.)
11 February, 2010
wild, 'cos I would do anything to tear you off your precious fence
There's a Myst Online? Don't get me wrong, Myst was an amazing game, but...mostly? In all honesty? I wandered around. I don't think I ever finished the game, it ended up being a meditative exercise, like The Path--something to do for the pretty. (Though I did end up finishing The Path, finishing the epilogue, resetting the game...and haven't really 'solved' the game since, just wandered and listened to the music.)
Burning Man has some interesting clauses on their tickets now. Save they're not on the tickets, precisely...and therein lies the problem.
Someone's thought way too much about Lady Gaga, the "Monarch Project", and the Illuminati. Backing away slowly now...
Runes of Magic is introducing the next chapter of their game in May, bringing with it a new continent, new spells and abilities, new items, new instances, a child king, and a level cap to 60.
We all know what this means: more attempts at game balancing, more bitching, more striations between high-level player and new ones. Still, I'll be interested in seeing what the new section of the world looks like, at least.
So, the mania starts over on Bill Gurley's blog, and if you're like me, and don't know who that is, I'm thinking first, we can perhaps be forgiven, for our concern is the Lindens, not the board members behind Linden Labs, true?
But second, I'm thinking perhaps I should be paying more attention to the sayings of the Powers Behind the Lindens....especially if they're going to be spouting such inane, clearly refutable drabble as that particular blog entry.
Let me make this clear: I have no problem with the rental model, for games. Runes of Magic, my fading-but-still-current MMO love, works on the rental model. I want extra backpack space? I pay for it. I want seed to grow? I pay for it. I want the current festival ingredients, to make niftier things down the line? I pay for them, and I know they have finite lifespans, so I'll need to hurry along with my plans.
This would not work in SL. For one, many of us, if not most of us, already engage in rental practices. I know I do: I rent two small portions of Morgaine, one at L$950 per week, one at L$475 per week, for a total of L$1425 per week, every week, for over two years now in the case of the larger Morgaine parcel. And I have rented in other places, while I lived in those sims; I have rented shop space in Caledon and out of it; and all of us are comfortable with this model, buy into it, pay into it, because we know it helps the world go round.
The same cannot be said of a sofa, for example. I, for one, presented with a sofa that would happily expire and erase itself from my inventory in seven days, would not buy that sofa. Shown an outfit that would only be glittering and lovely during the holiday season, I would politely decline. Shown a thirty-day skybox, a charming little getaway for the next month only...I'd choose to make my own.
Because the alternative? Is ridiculous. If I buy a tree, I want to know that tree is mine. If I throw that tree away, then I no longer own it. If I search for that tree in my inventory, and have to sigh, and contemplate either duplicating my efforts, and buying another tree, or moving to a new tree entirely...which may have the same stupid coding in its makeup...well, then: why am I bothering?
Sooner or later, it is bound to occur, Mr. Gurley: why on earth are we spending time in the game that came up with such a ridiculous idea? And then off to Blue Mars, or Home, or whatever else arises, until Second Life is a footnote in virtual history.
Do you want that? I don't want that. And shame on you for abusing your brain in such a fashion. Go drink something and lie down for two weeks, you'll feel better.
Honestly. Some people's children.
In the meantime, Prokovy Neva takes on this board member, and states in no uncertain terms why he's so very very wrong. Believe me, I--as others--believe the world's in a very frightening place when Prokovy makes sense, but--I can't discount it here. There is rightness and truth in those words, and Mr. Gurley, you really, really, should listen. Because if the board is pushing for these big changes, from social media integration on up to temporary frocks and skyboxen, then you're heading in the direction that will leave you all sitting around a table in a building that's about to be repossessed, wondering where all the money went.
I kid you not, this is exactly where these changes are taking you.
And if you just fixated on the shiny keen Korean models because of their shiny keen ability to rake in tons of cash, keep in mind that Korea's consumer culture is big and temporary on its own. Everything people spend millions for now becomes worthless over time as the Korean population jumps for the next big thing. And they will keep doing this. This isn't wrong, but again, adopt this model with the expectation of big cash dividends--and at the end of the month, when SL is hopelessly unhip, you're again sitting in that board room that removalists are demolishing around you.
If it's not you, Mr. Gurley, if it's M Linden and the people he brought in--then, for the love of all gods, Bill, go out with him, have a drink, get him laid if you have to, but dissuade him from this lunacy. He is merrily chipping away at the foundation of what keeps Second Life functional and upright. It's just a matter of time, now, before he chops through something vital. STOP. HIM.
Meanwhile, in other news, Time Magazine lists "SyFy" as one of the top ten worst corporate name changes. Personally, I think they should have been all ten, but then, I loathe the choice of "SyFy" because they didn't want to be "associated" with geeks in basements.
RAT. BASTARDS. BURN, you....*coughs* Anyway. You want to know how far "SyFy" of the stupid name has come, from their glory days? Here's part one, part two and part three of the original 1992 USA special on the introduction of the network, and what it meant to the men and women who worked in speculative fiction of all types.
Pfff. Some people. They forego substance for the gloss, squeal over the shiny surface and never ever care what it contains. Or, as a user on the i09 mention said, "SyFy: Because 'Ghosts & Wrassling' would take up too much room in the corner of your screen."
Precisely.
Burning Man has some interesting clauses on their tickets now. Save they're not on the tickets, precisely...and therein lies the problem.
Someone's thought way too much about Lady Gaga, the "Monarch Project", and the Illuminati. Backing away slowly now...
Runes of Magic is introducing the next chapter of their game in May, bringing with it a new continent, new spells and abilities, new items, new instances, a child king, and a level cap to 60.
We all know what this means: more attempts at game balancing, more bitching, more striations between high-level player and new ones. Still, I'll be interested in seeing what the new section of the world looks like, at least.
So, the mania starts over on Bill Gurley's blog, and if you're like me, and don't know who that is, I'm thinking first, we can perhaps be forgiven, for our concern is the Lindens, not the board members behind Linden Labs, true?
But second, I'm thinking perhaps I should be paying more attention to the sayings of the Powers Behind the Lindens....especially if they're going to be spouting such inane, clearly refutable drabble as that particular blog entry.
Let me make this clear: I have no problem with the rental model, for games. Runes of Magic, my fading-but-still-current MMO love, works on the rental model. I want extra backpack space? I pay for it. I want seed to grow? I pay for it. I want the current festival ingredients, to make niftier things down the line? I pay for them, and I know they have finite lifespans, so I'll need to hurry along with my plans.
This would not work in SL. For one, many of us, if not most of us, already engage in rental practices. I know I do: I rent two small portions of Morgaine, one at L$950 per week, one at L$475 per week, for a total of L$1425 per week, every week, for over two years now in the case of the larger Morgaine parcel. And I have rented in other places, while I lived in those sims; I have rented shop space in Caledon and out of it; and all of us are comfortable with this model, buy into it, pay into it, because we know it helps the world go round.
The same cannot be said of a sofa, for example. I, for one, presented with a sofa that would happily expire and erase itself from my inventory in seven days, would not buy that sofa. Shown an outfit that would only be glittering and lovely during the holiday season, I would politely decline. Shown a thirty-day skybox, a charming little getaway for the next month only...I'd choose to make my own.
Because the alternative? Is ridiculous. If I buy a tree, I want to know that tree is mine. If I throw that tree away, then I no longer own it. If I search for that tree in my inventory, and have to sigh, and contemplate either duplicating my efforts, and buying another tree, or moving to a new tree entirely...which may have the same stupid coding in its makeup...well, then: why am I bothering?
Sooner or later, it is bound to occur, Mr. Gurley: why on earth are we spending time in the game that came up with such a ridiculous idea? And then off to Blue Mars, or Home, or whatever else arises, until Second Life is a footnote in virtual history.
Do you want that? I don't want that. And shame on you for abusing your brain in such a fashion. Go drink something and lie down for two weeks, you'll feel better.
Honestly. Some people's children.
In the meantime, Prokovy Neva takes on this board member, and states in no uncertain terms why he's so very very wrong. Believe me, I--as others--believe the world's in a very frightening place when Prokovy makes sense, but--I can't discount it here. There is rightness and truth in those words, and Mr. Gurley, you really, really, should listen. Because if the board is pushing for these big changes, from social media integration on up to temporary frocks and skyboxen, then you're heading in the direction that will leave you all sitting around a table in a building that's about to be repossessed, wondering where all the money went.
I kid you not, this is exactly where these changes are taking you.
And if you just fixated on the shiny keen Korean models because of their shiny keen ability to rake in tons of cash, keep in mind that Korea's consumer culture is big and temporary on its own. Everything people spend millions for now becomes worthless over time as the Korean population jumps for the next big thing. And they will keep doing this. This isn't wrong, but again, adopt this model with the expectation of big cash dividends--and at the end of the month, when SL is hopelessly unhip, you're again sitting in that board room that removalists are demolishing around you.
If it's not you, Mr. Gurley, if it's M Linden and the people he brought in--then, for the love of all gods, Bill, go out with him, have a drink, get him laid if you have to, but dissuade him from this lunacy. He is merrily chipping away at the foundation of what keeps Second Life functional and upright. It's just a matter of time, now, before he chops through something vital. STOP. HIM.
Meanwhile, in other news, Time Magazine lists "SyFy" as one of the top ten worst corporate name changes. Personally, I think they should have been all ten, but then, I loathe the choice of "SyFy" because they didn't want to be "associated" with geeks in basements.
RAT. BASTARDS. BURN, you....*coughs* Anyway. You want to know how far "SyFy" of the stupid name has come, from their glory days? Here's part one, part two and part three of the original 1992 USA special on the introduction of the network, and what it meant to the men and women who worked in speculative fiction of all types.
Pfff. Some people. They forego substance for the gloss, squeal over the shiny surface and never ever care what it contains. Or, as a user on the i09 mention said, "SyFy: Because 'Ghosts & Wrassling' would take up too much room in the corner of your screen."
Precisely.
03 February, 2010
I won't be your soft one, I won't be encircled
Three posts in a row from MMORPG: first, an essay by Justin Webb on the fine line between RPGs and MMOs; then an article pondering Facebook gaming as a gateway drug to deeper, larger games. Finally, William Murphy compares Star Wars: the Old Republic with Mass Effect 2, and wonders if the Mass Effect 2 universe would make a good MMO.
I'll even toss in a fourth at no extra charge, because Scott Jennings' second part of why MMOs fail just hit the inbox. (If you haven't read part one, then here you go.)
All worth reading, though I am laughing, comparing FarmVille to SL's Tiny Empires. It's sort of the same thing, innit? But then, what is Tiny Empires the gateway drug for?
Via Laird Brideswell, Elrik Merlin, comes a page on how the internet has changed thinking. He particularly points you towards Brian Eno's contribution, which--distinctly and oddly--mentions Second Life. (Eno's also bought into the party line that record companies are losing money due to illegal downloads, which is sad to see.) Of other odd note--he doesn't think it's a positive thing to have long-distance relationships on the net.
On the net or off, I will agree, absolutely: long-distance relationships are terrifying to negotiate. And the longer the distance, the more unlikely of it becoming something more personal--in the sense of independent, in-person presence, not emotions felt--which is, can be, a sad thing.
I am very convinced of the value of these, how'ver. Unlike Eno, I do not believe my ability to express love and devotion stops when I can't physically reach out and touch someone. I communicate widely using the net and email, and I am also capable of communicating with great emotional depth, I believe. I think net-based communication--and net-based love, for as far as it goes--are only as limited as one makes them.
Another tip from Mr. Merlin--the beginning of a conversation on whether or not SL residents should match age and gender for 'real' events--like teaching classes, immersive recreation sims (the WWI Poetry Archive was mentioned in a comment), training seminars, and the like. An important point was made at the very beginning--while that commenter doesn't think it should be mandatory, she does think that showing up in a non-human form should be something the resident is comfortable with, and also understands that this may be viewed as being outside the norm.
While it goes farther in SL than RL, that is a reasonable prejudice to bring up--if you don't look normal, for whatever guidelines of normal qualify for your community or teaching institution, you will get looked at funny, if not outright mocked. This is nothing out of the ordinary; it happens all the time. It is of note, though, that by and large people on SL are more tolerant, not less. It's always interesting--and nearly always, due to a sudden external influence of outsiders joining residents--to observe the spikes of intolerance on the grid.
"It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength." Maya Angelou said that, and she was right. If we can't manage successful diversity and adaptation in a virtual world, what makes us think we will ever manage it in RL?
Finally, you gotta see this.
I'm dead serious. It's in Caledon Morgaine and is somehow made of cavorite particles and gum resins. I'm not entirely sure if it's safe, but it is fun.
We'll just have to watch for mutations. L$25 outside of Portland and Broome Manufacturing, and comes two pieces per pack. And they're tradeable--a piece for you, a piece for a friend.
I fully expect small popping sounds accompanied by mini-lifts will become the next Caledonian fad.
I'll even toss in a fourth at no extra charge, because Scott Jennings' second part of why MMOs fail just hit the inbox. (If you haven't read part one, then here you go.)
All worth reading, though I am laughing, comparing FarmVille to SL's Tiny Empires. It's sort of the same thing, innit? But then, what is Tiny Empires the gateway drug for?
Via Laird Brideswell, Elrik Merlin, comes a page on how the internet has changed thinking. He particularly points you towards Brian Eno's contribution, which--distinctly and oddly--mentions Second Life. (Eno's also bought into the party line that record companies are losing money due to illegal downloads, which is sad to see.) Of other odd note--he doesn't think it's a positive thing to have long-distance relationships on the net.
On the net or off, I will agree, absolutely: long-distance relationships are terrifying to negotiate. And the longer the distance, the more unlikely of it becoming something more personal--in the sense of independent, in-person presence, not emotions felt--which is, can be, a sad thing.
I am very convinced of the value of these, how'ver. Unlike Eno, I do not believe my ability to express love and devotion stops when I can't physically reach out and touch someone. I communicate widely using the net and email, and I am also capable of communicating with great emotional depth, I believe. I think net-based communication--and net-based love, for as far as it goes--are only as limited as one makes them.
Another tip from Mr. Merlin--the beginning of a conversation on whether or not SL residents should match age and gender for 'real' events--like teaching classes, immersive recreation sims (the WWI Poetry Archive was mentioned in a comment), training seminars, and the like. An important point was made at the very beginning--while that commenter doesn't think it should be mandatory, she does think that showing up in a non-human form should be something the resident is comfortable with, and also understands that this may be viewed as being outside the norm.
While it goes farther in SL than RL, that is a reasonable prejudice to bring up--if you don't look normal, for whatever guidelines of normal qualify for your community or teaching institution, you will get looked at funny, if not outright mocked. This is nothing out of the ordinary; it happens all the time. It is of note, though, that by and large people on SL are more tolerant, not less. It's always interesting--and nearly always, due to a sudden external influence of outsiders joining residents--to observe the spikes of intolerance on the grid.
"It is time for parents to teach young people early on that in diversity there is beauty and there is strength." Maya Angelou said that, and she was right. If we can't manage successful diversity and adaptation in a virtual world, what makes us think we will ever manage it in RL?
Finally, you gotta see this.
I'm dead serious. It's in Caledon Morgaine and is somehow made of cavorite particles and gum resins. I'm not entirely sure if it's safe, but it is fun.
We'll just have to watch for mutations. L$25 outside of Portland and Broome Manufacturing, and comes two pieces per pack. And they're tradeable--a piece for you, a piece for a friend.
I fully expect small popping sounds accompanied by mini-lifts will become the next Caledonian fad.
23 November, 2009
there's no answer, just surrender, send all your barriers into the fire
Just to start things off--I am selling or trading my section of Caledon Penzance; I have a notecard I am more than willing to give out in world, and you can leave me comments on the Steamlander boards or send notecards on the grid. At this point, sale is likely the better option, as we might have lined up a better shop location--if I can raise the funds.
Here's hoping.
Instead of treating the web as a platform of possibilities, it recasts it as a tool for mass theft.
A collection of astronomical clocks from Dark Roasted Blend.
Zombie MMO? HELL, ye--wait.
Console MMO?
Bastards.
Peter Strindberg costs out the new XStreet changes.
I've heard a lot of folks proposing even higher changes; I've heard folks wondering what the big deal is in the first place. "Well, it's all advertising, isn't it?" "It's not like that's even the price of a latte, come on." "I spend more than than in world in half an hour. Get real."
Let me tell you about the bottom of the barrel, then. For everyone who doesn't get why I--and so many others--are pulling from XStreet now and trying to find alternatives.
I no longer work in SL. Right now I could work--if I went back to escorting and dedicated a certain number of work hours per day to voice clients. Right now I could work if I wanted to join a modeling group and get the rights to "camp" in a certain spot for tips plus L$1 to L$2 every fifteen minutes I "worked". Right now I could work in SL if I wanted to go back to stripping, which means going back to being human most of the time, with larger tits and smaller (visible) intelligence, and likely emoting licking the pole I'm dancing around and writhing with what was starting to feel like entirely manufactured lust the last time around.
I haven't yet found that offer that doesn't involve sleeping with people, and while I have no ethical objection to going horizontal for money, it's a little depressing at this point.
So, right now, I am borrowing from friends and loves to make rent at all.
Rent, currently, is $1425 per week, $5700 per month, $74,100 per year. In case that doesn't make an impression, that works out to roughly $285.00 US I pay every year for the privilege of living in Caledon. I could live elsewhere; so far I'm gritting my teeth and trying to make the business pay for more of my expenses. But SL is not a cheap game for me.
At present, I have a L$50 listing fee I pay just to be listed as a business every week in the main SL classifieds. So a search for my business name will pop up at all. That's L$200 per month, L$2600 per year, or $10.00 US per year to list my business.
Total so far: $295.00 US, each and every year I operate.
Total salary in SL currently: L$0.00.
Does it start to make sense? Note, now, I am not laying all this out so the 'woe, pity me' chorus can start up in the background. I'm fine if you want to support me; personally, I don't care if you do or don't. If I'm working for someone, I tend toward scattered but resiliant loyalty; if I'm working for me, then I'm putting out there what I want to see in world, and if it's used by the one person I want it for (me), I'm good. Anything else is lovely and helps to pay rent, but is not required, in that sense of "this is my RL job and my future hangs in the balance".
In all seriousness, I am going to start looking for ways to maybe pick up income on the side, blog-wise--not in terms of ads placed here for in-world stores--though, honestly, if someone has a good offer, IM me, we can work something out--but in terms of a little sidebar something from Amazon and the like. I have decided that I am profoundly against selling my Twitter stream, so if I advertise products there, it's because I like them, not because I'm getting paid to pimp them.
[Late insert from the Editrix: FINALLY I get the Amazon widget working. HONESTLY. Rotating list of seventy-odd (depending on revisions) books comprising my constant book companions, these days, plus some amusing flash drives and odd movies. If you feel like perusing, feel free. If you don't, I'm very cool with that. But it's there for the option.]
How'ver, as far as SL currency goes, I have to find a way to increase income there, so likely will break down and sell surveys to people, or dance in some club or other, or join some in-world modeling group for ten to fifteen hours of work per week standing in someone's shop corner--just to possibly break even and stop borrowing so much from other people to pay in-world costs and fees. XStreet's proposed fees, on top of things? I literally, cannot, in any way, afford.
We pound our fists or flow around the rocks--depending on past experiences and temperament--and we enjoy our lives as best we can.
Hotspur O'Toole finds the timing of all this especially dubious. I do too, when linked in with MutantPink's "VIP survey" and the disbanding of the Mentor group--considering the bulk of what Mentors do is to help newcomers to the grid out with full-perm clothing, notecards, and landmarks of places to go to get more help.
And Rock leaves OpenSim. He makes genuine points.
In the end, all that's recoverable from this BBC story is the by-now trivial observation that Second Life has high barriers to entry; but then that's not exactly news.
Lastly, I am now registered on Cariama. We'll see how that goes; they still have yet to launch.
Here's hoping.
Instead of treating the web as a platform of possibilities, it recasts it as a tool for mass theft.
A collection of astronomical clocks from Dark Roasted Blend.
Zombie MMO? HELL, ye--wait.
Console MMO?
Bastards.
Peter Strindberg costs out the new XStreet changes.
I've heard a lot of folks proposing even higher changes; I've heard folks wondering what the big deal is in the first place. "Well, it's all advertising, isn't it?" "It's not like that's even the price of a latte, come on." "I spend more than than in world in half an hour. Get real."
Let me tell you about the bottom of the barrel, then. For everyone who doesn't get why I--and so many others--are pulling from XStreet now and trying to find alternatives.
I no longer work in SL. Right now I could work--if I went back to escorting and dedicated a certain number of work hours per day to voice clients. Right now I could work if I wanted to join a modeling group and get the rights to "camp" in a certain spot for tips plus L$1 to L$2 every fifteen minutes I "worked". Right now I could work in SL if I wanted to go back to stripping, which means going back to being human most of the time, with larger tits and smaller (visible) intelligence, and likely emoting licking the pole I'm dancing around and writhing with what was starting to feel like entirely manufactured lust the last time around.
I haven't yet found that offer that doesn't involve sleeping with people, and while I have no ethical objection to going horizontal for money, it's a little depressing at this point.
So, right now, I am borrowing from friends and loves to make rent at all.
Rent, currently, is $1425 per week, $5700 per month, $74,100 per year. In case that doesn't make an impression, that works out to roughly $285.00 US I pay every year for the privilege of living in Caledon. I could live elsewhere; so far I'm gritting my teeth and trying to make the business pay for more of my expenses. But SL is not a cheap game for me.
At present, I have a L$50 listing fee I pay just to be listed as a business every week in the main SL classifieds. So a search for my business name will pop up at all. That's L$200 per month, L$2600 per year, or $10.00 US per year to list my business.
Total so far: $295.00 US, each and every year I operate.
Total salary in SL currently: L$0.00.
Does it start to make sense? Note, now, I am not laying all this out so the 'woe, pity me' chorus can start up in the background. I'm fine if you want to support me; personally, I don't care if you do or don't. If I'm working for someone, I tend toward scattered but resiliant loyalty; if I'm working for me, then I'm putting out there what I want to see in world, and if it's used by the one person I want it for (me), I'm good. Anything else is lovely and helps to pay rent, but is not required, in that sense of "this is my RL job and my future hangs in the balance".
In all seriousness, I am going to start looking for ways to maybe pick up income on the side, blog-wise--not in terms of ads placed here for in-world stores--though, honestly, if someone has a good offer, IM me, we can work something out--but in terms of a little sidebar something from Amazon and the like. I have decided that I am profoundly against selling my Twitter stream, so if I advertise products there, it's because I like them, not because I'm getting paid to pimp them.
[Late insert from the Editrix: FINALLY I get the Amazon widget working. HONESTLY. Rotating list of seventy-odd (depending on revisions) books comprising my constant book companions, these days, plus some amusing flash drives and odd movies. If you feel like perusing, feel free. If you don't, I'm very cool with that. But it's there for the option.]
How'ver, as far as SL currency goes, I have to find a way to increase income there, so likely will break down and sell surveys to people, or dance in some club or other, or join some in-world modeling group for ten to fifteen hours of work per week standing in someone's shop corner--just to possibly break even and stop borrowing so much from other people to pay in-world costs and fees. XStreet's proposed fees, on top of things? I literally, cannot, in any way, afford.
We pound our fists or flow around the rocks--depending on past experiences and temperament--and we enjoy our lives as best we can.
Hotspur O'Toole finds the timing of all this especially dubious. I do too, when linked in with MutantPink's "VIP survey" and the disbanding of the Mentor group--considering the bulk of what Mentors do is to help newcomers to the grid out with full-perm clothing, notecards, and landmarks of places to go to get more help.
And Rock leaves OpenSim. He makes genuine points.
In the end, all that's recoverable from this BBC story is the by-now trivial observation that Second Life has high barriers to entry; but then that's not exactly news.
Lastly, I am now registered on Cariama. We'll see how that goes; they still have yet to launch.
10 September, 2009
I can't change it, if you don't have the will deep inside
Defeat awkwardness! And a perfect way to do so, at that.
Also apparently the Vampire Hunt is lining up vendors, currently, for an October debut, but...they don't exactly say what they're looking for, just show a coffin on the hunt art.
I suppose one could drop a notecard to Mm. Manna Dyden, requesting further information....
Desperation Andromeda, in response to external pressures, and the internal decisions of staff and venue owners, has decided to rate itself Adult--and suddenly, as of last night. This means if one isn't rated Adult--as in, one can no longer wander in Zindra, the Adult continent--one cannot get in to play.
What does this mean for the crew and passengers of the Doomed ship, and the Necronom VI station? Probably more freedom, without moral autocrats looking over their shoulder. I'm pretty sure neither Sveid Heidenstam or Oni Horan really wanted to change their search terms; I mean, seriously, what would Necronom VI be if tentacle rape didn't turn 'em up?
(And do keep in mind; some of the videos--especially on the Necronom VI blog--fall defiantly into NSFW. Just so you know.)
In the meantime, I am slowly settling back into access. It's very odd. I walk around Morgaine, staring at things in vague bemusement. I stare at my face, wondering when I stopped looking like me, or if I always looked like that, and it's only now that I feel changed, altered.
Are these things different? Is it just me?
It is home and not-home, at this point; there's no distinct dissatisfaction, more...disconnection. Maybe that's at the heart of everything, this pause between breaths just went on far too long.
I still haven't set all my groups to send notices again. Though I did host one gig (and that, oddly and wonderfully enough, did feel like coming home, or at least to some favored place I liked very much before, and am happy to find again), the profits went directly into rent instead of my usual mix of a third upload fees, a third photographs, a third poses or whatever odd gadget wanders across my senses. I stood on Morgaine's grassy shore and perused the new neighbor's dwelling, out in the bay, and looked up at the dinosaur guarding our parcel while I was gone.
The dinosaur's probably out of place, but then, I'm not paying him to be there. That I leave to Mr. Allen, who'll likely return to the death ra--the, err, ah, other security arrangements for the place, as soon as things settle back in.
Maybe I'll try the entirely unexpected and actually put a house up. Shocking.
But still, things just feel...off, somehow. And the more I think on it, the more I think it's me. Which means, I'll either settle back in, and go on with things...or, if the sense of oddity, of disconnection, persists, wonder why I'm still in town.
The problem yet remains--there's no other game to go to. Blue Mars is out of my tech specs, and I don't want to trade down to an MMO from SL. It just wouldn't be the same.
Still, there's this vague sense of...discomfort? Disapproval? In me. That I can't quite fully explain yet.
Still, I am back. And disconnected, discomfited, or not, it's good to be home.
...I think.
Also apparently the Vampire Hunt is lining up vendors, currently, for an October debut, but...they don't exactly say what they're looking for, just show a coffin on the hunt art.
I suppose one could drop a notecard to Mm. Manna Dyden, requesting further information....
Desperation Andromeda, in response to external pressures, and the internal decisions of staff and venue owners, has decided to rate itself Adult--and suddenly, as of last night. This means if one isn't rated Adult--as in, one can no longer wander in Zindra, the Adult continent--one cannot get in to play.
What does this mean for the crew and passengers of the Doomed ship, and the Necronom VI station? Probably more freedom, without moral autocrats looking over their shoulder. I'm pretty sure neither Sveid Heidenstam or Oni Horan really wanted to change their search terms; I mean, seriously, what would Necronom VI be if tentacle rape didn't turn 'em up?
(And do keep in mind; some of the videos--especially on the Necronom VI blog--fall defiantly into NSFW. Just so you know.)
In the meantime, I am slowly settling back into access. It's very odd. I walk around Morgaine, staring at things in vague bemusement. I stare at my face, wondering when I stopped looking like me, or if I always looked like that, and it's only now that I feel changed, altered.
Are these things different? Is it just me?
It is home and not-home, at this point; there's no distinct dissatisfaction, more...disconnection. Maybe that's at the heart of everything, this pause between breaths just went on far too long.
I still haven't set all my groups to send notices again. Though I did host one gig (and that, oddly and wonderfully enough, did feel like coming home, or at least to some favored place I liked very much before, and am happy to find again), the profits went directly into rent instead of my usual mix of a third upload fees, a third photographs, a third poses or whatever odd gadget wanders across my senses. I stood on Morgaine's grassy shore and perused the new neighbor's dwelling, out in the bay, and looked up at the dinosaur guarding our parcel while I was gone.
The dinosaur's probably out of place, but then, I'm not paying him to be there. That I leave to Mr. Allen, who'll likely return to the death ra--the, err, ah, other security arrangements for the place, as soon as things settle back in.
Maybe I'll try the entirely unexpected and actually put a house up. Shocking.
But still, things just feel...off, somehow. And the more I think on it, the more I think it's me. Which means, I'll either settle back in, and go on with things...or, if the sense of oddity, of disconnection, persists, wonder why I'm still in town.
The problem yet remains--there's no other game to go to. Blue Mars is out of my tech specs, and I don't want to trade down to an MMO from SL. It just wouldn't be the same.
Still, there's this vague sense of...discomfort? Disapproval? In me. That I can't quite fully explain yet.
Still, I am back. And disconnected, discomfited, or not, it's good to be home.
...I think.
11 June, 2009
I have faith that you're out there, living high up in the vast, somewhere in eternity
Aki Shichiroji has a new store! Well, I don't know if it's new, but I just found out about it. She's now making gorgeous floating sculpted land masses, trees, flowers, and items of decor, in addition to being the only maker, I still believe, of Farscape skins (and I own both her Delvian skin, and her Chiana avatar, believe me--I'm still enough of a Farscape fan, I look around for these things).
This is the view from my corner of Morgaine, at present. I still have some work to do, readjust some boulders, some wood bits here and there. It's in progress.
The big green glowing thing is the focus disc Fawkes is working on. Unsettling, the red glow at the base--I might have to speak to him about possible overheating.
But this is about the flowers. The field of flowers that now blooms at the base of the Darkhouse. This was the first set of California poppies, with that distinctive color, that memorable fluting, I'd ever seen on the grid. I'd been wandering Analise--they're having a half-off sale on some of their outfits--when I stopped dead, seeing poppies at my feet. I had to know who made them.
Turns out Organica did. And Aki Shichiroji is behind Organica.
This entire field of poppies, all the sinuous curves and overgrowth of it--it's one prim. She's got bamboo beds that are seven prims, total, and count out to more than sixty--but read, somehow as seven.
This field honestly counts out, at least at first glance, at around twelve, fifteen or so--but it's all one ratio-sculpted prim. Gorgeous.
I liked it so much, I wanted to get a new profile picture. But there was a problem--the now two antelope fauns kept wandering over and head-butting me just when I snapped the image. Or doing something freaky in the background that just wasn't right.
Didn't catch it? I'll make it easier:
Exhibit A: Antelope Faun 1 dragging himself along the mossy ground by his lips. Or some serious shoulder muscles.
(Fun tip: you click for the larger version, it leads to a different picture for find-the-faun--in that one, it's of him levitating out of the picture entirely, just part of his hindquarters and his tail floating up.)
Doesn't it just figure, though? The rest of the Realm gets the animals that behave predictably. I get the mutants.
Maybe it's all the cavorite gas?
This is the view from my corner of Morgaine, at present. I still have some work to do, readjust some boulders, some wood bits here and there. It's in progress.
The big green glowing thing is the focus disc Fawkes is working on. Unsettling, the red glow at the base--I might have to speak to him about possible overheating.
But this is about the flowers. The field of flowers that now blooms at the base of the Darkhouse. This was the first set of California poppies, with that distinctive color, that memorable fluting, I'd ever seen on the grid. I'd been wandering Analise--they're having a half-off sale on some of their outfits--when I stopped dead, seeing poppies at my feet. I had to know who made them.
Turns out Organica did. And Aki Shichiroji is behind Organica.
This entire field of poppies, all the sinuous curves and overgrowth of it--it's one prim. She's got bamboo beds that are seven prims, total, and count out to more than sixty--but read, somehow as seven.
This field honestly counts out, at least at first glance, at around twelve, fifteen or so--but it's all one ratio-sculpted prim. Gorgeous.
I liked it so much, I wanted to get a new profile picture. But there was a problem--the now two antelope fauns kept wandering over and head-butting me just when I snapped the image. Or doing something freaky in the background that just wasn't right.
Didn't catch it? I'll make it easier:
Exhibit A: Antelope Faun 1 dragging himself along the mossy ground by his lips. Or some serious shoulder muscles.
(Fun tip: you click for the larger version, it leads to a different picture for find-the-faun--in that one, it's of him levitating out of the picture entirely, just part of his hindquarters and his tail floating up.)
Doesn't it just figure, though? The rest of the Realm gets the animals that behave predictably. I get the mutants.
Maybe it's all the cavorite gas?
09 June, 2009
you're a tombstone in the mud, playing Twister in a bubble again
Some people have special problems. This is a sadly true fact of Em-behind-the-screen: I don't own a cell phone. I don't have a laptop. I have a very good music/video player, which pretty much reflects my priorities, in a sense: aging desktop computer, more notebooks than tech toys on the desk, but close to state-of-the-art .mp3 devices (I say devices; I have one really good one that plays music, plays movies, plays videos, stores pictures and can play audio books as well as be used as a book reader...and one pretty good one that's not got the nifty video screen, but is roughly the size of a lipgloss case, so I can just tuck it in some handy storage space--pants, shirt, cleavage...some days I'm not picky...and go out and about at will).
But it honestly never occurred to me that people might want to update their blogs from mobile devices. Put me to wondering which of the big journal sites actually support that capability. Because obviously with Wordpress, it's a fight, and it sounds like with Blogger, it's nonexistent, too.
Sling Trebuchet puts it wonderfully in a comment on the bots and camping blog entry:
Good Web search engines would not give such blind weight to keyword spamming. In fact they act to penalise the practice as best they can.
The Google Search Appliance (GSA) that LL use for All search was designed chiefly as an enterprise system. It therefore does not have to be very concerned with the gaming techniques of people who are determined to manipulate the rankings.
The good news is that the GSA does seem to penalise keyword spamming, but the bad news is that the bar is set stupidly high for a system used in SL and therefore exposed to the manipulations of muppets who are determined to exploit [every] loophole they can find.
While I remain terribly amused by the conceit of Muppet business owners--I imagine it as something like this--I also think he's right. And it's yet more evidence on what a flawed business decision it was to employ the GSA in the first place.
Two days back, now, the Primgraph launch party (or re-launch party) was a stunning success.
We were at the bottom of the Vernian Sea in Babbage, in a sealed dome named the Lotus of the Sea Gallery. Miss Breezy Carver owns it, and it was simply one of the most gorgeous places I've ever hosted a dance. Truly, the picture above does not do it justice.
There were so many celebrants on-hand dancing, talking, just showing up to the after-party, not even fifteen minutes into it I mostly dropped welcoming people in by name, and just started sending out "Welcome, all newcomers!" calls every few minutes. Because that many people were arriving, every few minutes.
We had an absolute blast, Elrik Merlin played an inspired mix of steampunk and steampunk-esque songs, and I danced with a new Jager:
Meet Maxim. Yes, that one. Even down to the red buckle on the hat. He called me "dollink" all night. I was quite charmed.
Coming up on another Thursday night Poetry Slam at der Hut, speaking of Jagerkin...this time around it's "earth" poetry. Whatever you can think of concerning earth as a concept or conceit in poem form, bring it on down. Remember our rules for poetry appreciation:
1. No push weapons.
2. All weapons must have temp-rez ammo.
3. Bring a sense of humor, you will need it!
Also, just out of curiosity...
(Click the larger image to see exactly how many books hit me after the poem.)
Who brought Tobin's Spirit Guide into world? This was not a good idea!
Now then, a few additional notes. I should mention at the outset, sometimes, the nights are very strange at the work studio. Case in point: the arrival of...Bun-Zorro.
Later on he got a cape:
Just so you have an idea of the scale...
Anyone who's seen me knows that I am not tall (save for lately, I seem to be wearing very tall shoes. Shhh.), and the current iteration of the studio is a 60x60 square megaprim. The rabbit is very large, then, yes.
[1:48] Fawkes Allen: Bun Diego de la Zanahoria is secretly Bun-Zorro! Defender of the common man of Bunifornia!
[1:49] Neome Graves: Right then.
[1:49] Neome Graves: So off to the Vendor supporting then? =P
[1:50] Midnight Bohemia: yes lets!
[1:59] Neome Graves: http://vendorsupportmonth.blogspot.com/
So off we went on the Vendor Support Month "hunt", dropping by the stores that sounded interesting off the website...though I did make one nearly fatal mistake at the beginning. Seen at Nushru in Cherry Park:
MY EYES! Gods, I don't even know what I came here for! My brain has been eaten by GLOW!
Seriously, nearly the entirety of the externals for Nushru are set to glow. And they're all pastel...flowers, rainbows, trees, clouds....dear gods, I couldn't get out of there fast enough.
To the designer's credit, she's participating in something like six hunts at present, so if you get past the glow and get into the store, there's at least five different pairs of heels to track down and abscond with.
[16:13] Sanura Sakai: Oh, here's a good one for you. I bought some cookies the other day, and it lists that it contains... 38% milk chocolate, 17% flavoured creme filling, 8% candy pieces and 8% pink squiggles. *snickers* Because, well, ya know that 7% yellow squiggle just isn't right.
You do have a point. Also, what level of ingredient is a pink squiggle? Topping? Candy? Preservative?
Lastly, a new designer (to me, at least) found sidewise: Lyric Demina of Chain & Vine/A Rose Mourning. She's proudly and serenely Gorean, and most of her furnishings and poseball sets are designed with Gorean (generally, and specifically, slave-breaking) needs in mind. How'ver, the sets she has upstairs (where the link leads you) are just amazing.
I admit, I bought her corner chair on an impulse, even though it was only a couples' set. It's thoroughly charming, dark, and lovely. And her stated RP limits--"Shut your eyes and sing to me"--are evocative and enthralling.
Unfortunately, that gives me another inventory item, and potentially the need to get out of the work studio and throw up an actual house somewhere.
Damn. I was so enjoying being the houseless iconoclast. And no, the ginormous tree stump on ground level in Morgaine doesn't count. Technically, that started out life as a cave anyway.
But it honestly never occurred to me that people might want to update their blogs from mobile devices. Put me to wondering which of the big journal sites actually support that capability. Because obviously with Wordpress, it's a fight, and it sounds like with Blogger, it's nonexistent, too.
Sling Trebuchet puts it wonderfully in a comment on the bots and camping blog entry:
Good Web search engines would not give such blind weight to keyword spamming. In fact they act to penalise the practice as best they can.
The Google Search Appliance (GSA) that LL use for All search was designed chiefly as an enterprise system. It therefore does not have to be very concerned with the gaming techniques of people who are determined to manipulate the rankings.
The good news is that the GSA does seem to penalise keyword spamming, but the bad news is that the bar is set stupidly high for a system used in SL and therefore exposed to the manipulations of muppets who are determined to exploit [every] loophole they can find.
While I remain terribly amused by the conceit of Muppet business owners--I imagine it as something like this--I also think he's right. And it's yet more evidence on what a flawed business decision it was to employ the GSA in the first place.
Two days back, now, the Primgraph launch party (or re-launch party) was a stunning success.
We were at the bottom of the Vernian Sea in Babbage, in a sealed dome named the Lotus of the Sea Gallery. Miss Breezy Carver owns it, and it was simply one of the most gorgeous places I've ever hosted a dance. Truly, the picture above does not do it justice.
There were so many celebrants on-hand dancing, talking, just showing up to the after-party, not even fifteen minutes into it I mostly dropped welcoming people in by name, and just started sending out "Welcome, all newcomers!" calls every few minutes. Because that many people were arriving, every few minutes.
We had an absolute blast, Elrik Merlin played an inspired mix of steampunk and steampunk-esque songs, and I danced with a new Jager:
Meet Maxim. Yes, that one. Even down to the red buckle on the hat. He called me "dollink" all night. I was quite charmed.
Coming up on another Thursday night Poetry Slam at der Hut, speaking of Jagerkin...this time around it's "earth" poetry. Whatever you can think of concerning earth as a concept or conceit in poem form, bring it on down. Remember our rules for poetry appreciation:
1. No push weapons.
2. All weapons must have temp-rez ammo.
3. Bring a sense of humor, you will need it!
Also, just out of curiosity...
(Click the larger image to see exactly how many books hit me after the poem.)
Who brought Tobin's Spirit Guide into world? This was not a good idea!
Now then, a few additional notes. I should mention at the outset, sometimes, the nights are very strange at the work studio. Case in point: the arrival of...Bun-Zorro.
Later on he got a cape:
Just so you have an idea of the scale...
Anyone who's seen me knows that I am not tall (save for lately, I seem to be wearing very tall shoes. Shhh.), and the current iteration of the studio is a 60x60 square megaprim. The rabbit is very large, then, yes.
[1:48] Fawkes Allen: Bun Diego de la Zanahoria is secretly Bun-Zorro! Defender of the common man of Bunifornia!
[1:49] Neome Graves: Right then.
[1:49] Neome Graves: So off to the Vendor supporting then? =P
[1:50] Midnight Bohemia: yes lets!
[1:59] Neome Graves: http://vendorsupportmonth.blogspot.com/
So off we went on the Vendor Support Month "hunt", dropping by the stores that sounded interesting off the website...though I did make one nearly fatal mistake at the beginning. Seen at Nushru in Cherry Park:
MY EYES! Gods, I don't even know what I came here for! My brain has been eaten by GLOW!
Seriously, nearly the entirety of the externals for Nushru are set to glow. And they're all pastel...flowers, rainbows, trees, clouds....dear gods, I couldn't get out of there fast enough.
To the designer's credit, she's participating in something like six hunts at present, so if you get past the glow and get into the store, there's at least five different pairs of heels to track down and abscond with.
[16:13] Sanura Sakai: Oh, here's a good one for you. I bought some cookies the other day, and it lists that it contains... 38% milk chocolate, 17% flavoured creme filling, 8% candy pieces and 8% pink squiggles. *snickers* Because, well, ya know that 7% yellow squiggle just isn't right.
You do have a point. Also, what level of ingredient is a pink squiggle? Topping? Candy? Preservative?
Lastly, a new designer (to me, at least) found sidewise: Lyric Demina of Chain & Vine/A Rose Mourning. She's proudly and serenely Gorean, and most of her furnishings and poseball sets are designed with Gorean (generally, and specifically, slave-breaking) needs in mind. How'ver, the sets she has upstairs (where the link leads you) are just amazing.
I admit, I bought her corner chair on an impulse, even though it was only a couples' set. It's thoroughly charming, dark, and lovely. And her stated RP limits--"Shut your eyes and sing to me"--are evocative and enthralling.
Unfortunately, that gives me another inventory item, and potentially the need to get out of the work studio and throw up an actual house somewhere.
Damn. I was so enjoying being the houseless iconoclast. And no, the ginormous tree stump on ground level in Morgaine doesn't count. Technically, that started out life as a cave anyway.
08 February, 2009
where all the stars from the nevers and maybes die
I watch you in the distance, the square of your shoulders rounded and bent from worry, from bone-deep despair. I watch the storm clouds gather and I ache to take that worry away. Some hours I can do nothing but observe. But I am there. I observe. I watch, when I can do little else.
(AKA, Why Tinies Shouldn't Dance...on typical dance balls, at least. Here, Darth Penny stretches to the max to try to groove.)
In all the chaos of whirlwind change, you are the rock, obdurate, seemingly eternal. I know that others think so; I also know what they think matters little to either of us. For rock erodes; the strongest stone gives way for the smallest stream. And you are not in the path of the rill, stitched erratically in silver thread across the expanse of untrammeled green. No, you are the unceasing stubborn cliff-face, turned blind to the torrent of salt and waves.
(Ex-Duke? Peccable, Mssr. Podruly...made of prims.)
It breaks you down, I see that. Bit by bit, gold veins lacing glassine quartz, strong sturdy hornblende that glitters in its own right. Too much, too quickly, the storm lowering, the rain lashing you along with the beat of the waves, and you disintegrate at a touch. I know this. I see this. I cannot stop it.
(I admit, I adore this picture [click for the larger version]. Talk about being in the right place at the right time...here, Miss Neome looks over the railing at Solange's Ornament Hunt last December, and shows off Mr. Nix Sands' Caledon Tartan eyes to marvelous advantage.)
In a sense, this is nature's way, and I am ever nature's acolyte, in a diffident sense. The words of Kali Ma, I destroy to create, ring through me, watching. For there is loss, yes; there is pain, yes; there is destruction, yes. But I must believe that for every loss, there is something gained; for every pain, there is pain's relief, waiting; for destruction, there is reconfiguration.
(I'm not sure I remember who all came to the Australia Day celebration thrown by Sir Edward Pearse and Lady Christine McAllister-Pearse...I think it's [from the left] Roy Smashcan, Dr. Mason's new daughter, Mi...not Minako...Mi...Me...something, argh...then-Mr. Mossaveno Tenk, before he declared rulership over New Babbage, and Dr. Mason behind them; then Mr. Fawkes Allen, testing out the joints on the new Cecil model automaton; then Miss Neome being slothful on the green [and yes, that's the distinctive pattern of moss growing in the sloth's fur]; then a random cockatoo, me in Bare Rose's latest "is it a kimono?" offering, with Edward's cork-bedecked sunhat; and....ack, I can't think, Miss Weatherwax? Miss Davies? I can't remember.)
But no one said it would be easy. And I watch you, enduring, suffering, faltering on occasion, because no one is strong all the time. I do my best to heed your words, I try to keep myself open, I try to let those around me know when I am weak, when I suffer, when I need help. I watch you fighting, I watch you at the same crossroads, over and again, and I admit: I do everything in my power to keep you from giving in.
(It's too cold to be spring. Besides, I miss my snowmen. I even miss the Vorpal Snow Bunny attacking them.)
It rarely feels like enough. But it is all I can do. And in those rare moments when the stormclouds lift, and the seas calm, and I see you shine...I know I'd do it all again.
(What the other snowman was shrieking about...Snowthulhu.)
Because I love you, and I do not love only when it's sunny, I do not love only when it's spring. I love through storm and fury, through bitter winter that has forgotten all light and life. I did not choose you because you were comfortable. I did not choose anyone because they were comfortable.
(Finally, I've meant to mention this for a while now: not in time for the holidays unfortunately, but I do have my House Slippers out and fully functional. They are soft, sturdy, and come equipped with a miniature orange tree, a smokeless fireplace [for warmth], steps up to the carpeted mini-room, and working doors! Only fifty Linden at Kartiny, upstairs from Autogenic in Penzance.)
I admit, I am not easy to love either. As much as I am learning to root, to stand in place and stand fast, I still flitter, I still flit. I no longer give in at a compliment, at an amused glance, at a touch, and I am told this is no bad thing. But even if it's not to others, my attention frequently drifts. I am dazzled by so many things in the vastness of the multiverse, and fascinated by so much...I do not always keep my focus, it is hard for me. But through it all, my distraction, yours, my pain and yours, my joy and yours, I still love. That I love you is the one thing that never changes. My wandering attention always finds you, over and again.
(I have to humbly thank Winter Ventura for her door script assistance and Fawkes Allen and Edward Pearse for building suggestions. I couldn't have done it without you guys.)
(AKA, Why Tinies Shouldn't Dance...on typical dance balls, at least. Here, Darth Penny stretches to the max to try to groove.)
In all the chaos of whirlwind change, you are the rock, obdurate, seemingly eternal. I know that others think so; I also know what they think matters little to either of us. For rock erodes; the strongest stone gives way for the smallest stream. And you are not in the path of the rill, stitched erratically in silver thread across the expanse of untrammeled green. No, you are the unceasing stubborn cliff-face, turned blind to the torrent of salt and waves.
(Ex-Duke? Peccable, Mssr. Podruly...made of prims.)
It breaks you down, I see that. Bit by bit, gold veins lacing glassine quartz, strong sturdy hornblende that glitters in its own right. Too much, too quickly, the storm lowering, the rain lashing you along with the beat of the waves, and you disintegrate at a touch. I know this. I see this. I cannot stop it.
(I admit, I adore this picture [click for the larger version]. Talk about being in the right place at the right time...here, Miss Neome looks over the railing at Solange's Ornament Hunt last December, and shows off Mr. Nix Sands' Caledon Tartan eyes to marvelous advantage.)
In a sense, this is nature's way, and I am ever nature's acolyte, in a diffident sense. The words of Kali Ma, I destroy to create, ring through me, watching. For there is loss, yes; there is pain, yes; there is destruction, yes. But I must believe that for every loss, there is something gained; for every pain, there is pain's relief, waiting; for destruction, there is reconfiguration.
(I'm not sure I remember who all came to the Australia Day celebration thrown by Sir Edward Pearse and Lady Christine McAllister-Pearse...I think it's [from the left] Roy Smashcan, Dr. Mason's new daughter, Mi...not Minako...Mi...Me...something, argh...then-Mr. Mossaveno Tenk, before he declared rulership over New Babbage, and Dr. Mason behind them; then Mr. Fawkes Allen, testing out the joints on the new Cecil model automaton; then Miss Neome being slothful on the green [and yes, that's the distinctive pattern of moss growing in the sloth's fur]; then a random cockatoo, me in Bare Rose's latest "is it a kimono?" offering, with Edward's cork-bedecked sunhat; and....ack, I can't think, Miss Weatherwax? Miss Davies? I can't remember.)
But no one said it would be easy. And I watch you, enduring, suffering, faltering on occasion, because no one is strong all the time. I do my best to heed your words, I try to keep myself open, I try to let those around me know when I am weak, when I suffer, when I need help. I watch you fighting, I watch you at the same crossroads, over and again, and I admit: I do everything in my power to keep you from giving in.
(It's too cold to be spring. Besides, I miss my snowmen. I even miss the Vorpal Snow Bunny attacking them.)
It rarely feels like enough. But it is all I can do. And in those rare moments when the stormclouds lift, and the seas calm, and I see you shine...I know I'd do it all again.
(What the other snowman was shrieking about...Snowthulhu.)
Because I love you, and I do not love only when it's sunny, I do not love only when it's spring. I love through storm and fury, through bitter winter that has forgotten all light and life. I did not choose you because you were comfortable. I did not choose anyone because they were comfortable.
(Finally, I've meant to mention this for a while now: not in time for the holidays unfortunately, but I do have my House Slippers out and fully functional. They are soft, sturdy, and come equipped with a miniature orange tree, a smokeless fireplace [for warmth], steps up to the carpeted mini-room, and working doors! Only fifty Linden at Kartiny, upstairs from Autogenic in Penzance.)
I admit, I am not easy to love either. As much as I am learning to root, to stand in place and stand fast, I still flitter, I still flit. I no longer give in at a compliment, at an amused glance, at a touch, and I am told this is no bad thing. But even if it's not to others, my attention frequently drifts. I am dazzled by so many things in the vastness of the multiverse, and fascinated by so much...I do not always keep my focus, it is hard for me. But through it all, my distraction, yours, my pain and yours, my joy and yours, I still love. That I love you is the one thing that never changes. My wandering attention always finds you, over and again.
(I have to humbly thank Winter Ventura for her door script assistance and Fawkes Allen and Edward Pearse for building suggestions. I couldn't have done it without you guys.)
28 January, 2009
and I'm counting the steps to the door of your heart
one hurts, and I hurt for that pain
one worries for me, and I do not know what to say
I say I am fine, and I believe this
I am distracted, but I am with them
I am there, but my thoughts are spinning
far beyond their reach
We discovered a very odd thing. I'll have to ask Miss Neome who made her new ArtBunny avatar, because apparently it uses the same texture as Winter Ventura's remake of the free YouTube TV.
he hurts, and I hurt with him,
I understand when he says
he should never have said yes
I want to protest, I want
to rail, to scream, bitter recriminations
towards the source of pain
the source of pain
potentially within reach
Her remake is exceptionally elegant, all things considered. A temp-rez "remote" system slides out from the bottom, giving one the ability to stop, pause, clear entirely, or input media to view.
but I cannot reach out
it is not my place
and if I am honest with myself, truly
honest, I do not have the time
I do not have the time to
spend all my time
in that space of anger and pain
it is my pain, because
it is his pain
it is not my pain, because
I have my own
Everything was fine, we were feeding links back and forth, as we do in our rare relaxing time, watching Miss Neome cycle through changes. Then she crawled into the ArtBunny, and suddenly, the whole of her skin changed--to the media the TV played.
As you might imagine, this amused us greatly. We went from political commentary and odd musical bits directly to twee baby animal vids--just to see them play out on her media-reflective skin.
one hurts for me
I tell him not to worry
one hurts, and I grasp at words
to try and ase that pain
some pain will not be eased, some
pain will only be endured, and
not one bit of my wanting to help
will help, will ease, will soothe--
much as I want, much as
I might need it to...
...I am beyond its reach.
I don't think we've laughed so hard in several days, mayhap several weeks. It was amusing, as well as being vital.
Though now I think we will tease her about being the Morgaine studio's mobile TV.
(One additional note. You might have noticed the change to the layout. And, in fact, the layout before. One cannot shatter, and reform the way they were in all regards. One must shatter, gather pieces, and move on to repair and refinish. This is the first step of my remaking.)
one worries for me, and I do not know what to say
I say I am fine, and I believe this
I am distracted, but I am with them
I am there, but my thoughts are spinning
far beyond their reach
We discovered a very odd thing. I'll have to ask Miss Neome who made her new ArtBunny avatar, because apparently it uses the same texture as Winter Ventura's remake of the free YouTube TV.
he hurts, and I hurt with him,
I understand when he says
he should never have said yes
I want to protest, I want
to rail, to scream, bitter recriminations
towards the source of pain
the source of pain
potentially within reach
Her remake is exceptionally elegant, all things considered. A temp-rez "remote" system slides out from the bottom, giving one the ability to stop, pause, clear entirely, or input media to view.
but I cannot reach out
it is not my place
and if I am honest with myself, truly
honest, I do not have the time
I do not have the time to
spend all my time
in that space of anger and pain
it is my pain, because
it is his pain
it is not my pain, because
I have my own
Everything was fine, we were feeding links back and forth, as we do in our rare relaxing time, watching Miss Neome cycle through changes. Then she crawled into the ArtBunny, and suddenly, the whole of her skin changed--to the media the TV played.
As you might imagine, this amused us greatly. We went from political commentary and odd musical bits directly to twee baby animal vids--just to see them play out on her media-reflective skin.
one hurts for me
I tell him not to worry
one hurts, and I grasp at words
to try and ase that pain
some pain will not be eased, some
pain will only be endured, and
not one bit of my wanting to help
will help, will ease, will soothe--
much as I want, much as
I might need it to...
...I am beyond its reach.
I don't think we've laughed so hard in several days, mayhap several weeks. It was amusing, as well as being vital.
Though now I think we will tease her about being the Morgaine studio's mobile TV.
(One additional note. You might have noticed the change to the layout. And, in fact, the layout before. One cannot shatter, and reform the way they were in all regards. One must shatter, gather pieces, and move on to repair and refinish. This is the first step of my remaking.)
16 December, 2008
I go follow to the river, play your memory like a piper
The Mississippi's mighty, but it starts in Minnesota
At a place where you can walk across with five steps down
And I guess that's how you started like a pinprick to my heart
But at this point you rush right through me and I start to drown...
Mourning is always this. Always. It comes and goes, tidal, pulling towards, drawing back. Happy in brief moments, melancholy in the moments following. Denial and hurt, acceptance and raging at fate, and pain, always pain. And overlaying everything, the sick knowledge that we will never see the mourned one again, we will never hear them laugh, never watch them learn new things, never give advice again.
Never dance with them again. Never say good-night of an evening. Never say hello, and smile, because we say hello to them.
Tidal. Pain that comes and goes, agony of loss separated into digestable segments. Because elsewise, how could we continue to go on, if we were trapped in grieving, always, when we did?
We have to have moments of levity. We have to have moments where we smile. Even if sometimes, that leads to that dark inner voice asking how we dare smile, when we have lost; how we dare laugh when the one we miss will never laugh again.
I'm familiar in these waters, unfortunately; the whole of my life has been imbued with the certain knowledge that people leave, and they do not come back. Nearly before I could speak, I knew loss; and it never truly left. I have said before that all the ocean is my graveyard, because so many of my family are ash upon the waves.
It leads me, at the least, to a certain melancholia of apprehension.
I had been sitting in Bare Rose's VIP room when I heard. I'd gone in and sat down, as many other Bare Rose group members had, on the off-chance of winning something fun from the raffle ball. I left to make dinner, and to watch a movie, and when I came back, Miss Snook had IMed me. Oh, I meant to tell you, I remember the IM saying. Oh, I meant to tell you about Sumie.
I hadn't seen her for nearly a week, and my first thought caused my heart to fall. She's back in hospital. She's back in a coma. She's been in another accident. Oh gods, what now?
I went through notices that had accumulated while I'd been logged in, but non-responsive. And I hit the Duchess relating Sumie's death.
The rest of me fell in that instant--in world, I fell offline, and the rest of me couldn't stop crying. For nearly three hours--logging back in to the grid, changing into something more sedate, making my way to the Fallen Anvil--I couldn't stop the tears that poured down my face.
And we get the most ridiculous thoughts in moments like these. Oh, if only I'd known. Oh, if only I'd been there. Oh, I should have said more. I should have done more. I should have helped more.
I didn't say much at the memorial, the pain was too great. It kept sweeping over me and taking my words away. I know others were in a similar state. We related stories of how we met her, and the same words kept coming up to describe her, over and over.
The bright presence of her. The earnest desire to please. The joy she had in life. Her yearning to soar high, her vibrant alive-ness, that marked everyone who knew her.
When she gave me the Darkhouse that stands in Morgaine, she said it was her way of thanking me for inspiring her. I still, even now, have this urge to shake my head at that.
"Inspiring you?" I remember asking her. "All I've done is given you some advice. You created everything else."
"You helped me," she told me in return. "You helped, and I want to thank you for that."
If the memory of your life, once lived, can make people laugh, and cry, smile and weep, and yes, be inspired--then, regardless of when or where, how much your life was cut short, you have done a great thing by living it.
Sumie did that, at the very least. And she did so much more.
I'd like to mention something that happened yesterday evening, something that Mr. Drinkwater, master of the grace note, thought appropriate to read as tribute at her memorial:
An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
I'll be in and out of this mood for a while yet, I think. It's going to be a few more days before I get the strength to go down to the ground in Morgaine, and look up at the Darkhouse. But that, I have, from her. Whatever else strange and surreal happens to the property--that, at least, is tribute to her spirit, quirks and virtues, flaws and loyal friendship, and to the works she built with her hands and heart.
All of us in Caledon, at the very least, have that from her--nearly every lighthouse Caledon has was built by her capable hands. It's nice to know that most of the light in the darkness she helped bring home.
Twenty-six. It was far too young to die.
(Initial stanza comes from the Indigo Girls' song Ghost; it deals with nostalgic recollection of a poisoned love. Sumie and I, we weren't that, we were friends...but she was very dear to me.)
At a place where you can walk across with five steps down
And I guess that's how you started like a pinprick to my heart
But at this point you rush right through me and I start to drown...
Mourning is always this. Always. It comes and goes, tidal, pulling towards, drawing back. Happy in brief moments, melancholy in the moments following. Denial and hurt, acceptance and raging at fate, and pain, always pain. And overlaying everything, the sick knowledge that we will never see the mourned one again, we will never hear them laugh, never watch them learn new things, never give advice again.
Never dance with them again. Never say good-night of an evening. Never say hello, and smile, because we say hello to them.
Tidal. Pain that comes and goes, agony of loss separated into digestable segments. Because elsewise, how could we continue to go on, if we were trapped in grieving, always, when we did?
We have to have moments of levity. We have to have moments where we smile. Even if sometimes, that leads to that dark inner voice asking how we dare smile, when we have lost; how we dare laugh when the one we miss will never laugh again.
I'm familiar in these waters, unfortunately; the whole of my life has been imbued with the certain knowledge that people leave, and they do not come back. Nearly before I could speak, I knew loss; and it never truly left. I have said before that all the ocean is my graveyard, because so many of my family are ash upon the waves.
It leads me, at the least, to a certain melancholia of apprehension.
I had been sitting in Bare Rose's VIP room when I heard. I'd gone in and sat down, as many other Bare Rose group members had, on the off-chance of winning something fun from the raffle ball. I left to make dinner, and to watch a movie, and when I came back, Miss Snook had IMed me. Oh, I meant to tell you, I remember the IM saying. Oh, I meant to tell you about Sumie.
I hadn't seen her for nearly a week, and my first thought caused my heart to fall. She's back in hospital. She's back in a coma. She's been in another accident. Oh gods, what now?
I went through notices that had accumulated while I'd been logged in, but non-responsive. And I hit the Duchess relating Sumie's death.
The rest of me fell in that instant--in world, I fell offline, and the rest of me couldn't stop crying. For nearly three hours--logging back in to the grid, changing into something more sedate, making my way to the Fallen Anvil--I couldn't stop the tears that poured down my face.
And we get the most ridiculous thoughts in moments like these. Oh, if only I'd known. Oh, if only I'd been there. Oh, I should have said more. I should have done more. I should have helped more.
I didn't say much at the memorial, the pain was too great. It kept sweeping over me and taking my words away. I know others were in a similar state. We related stories of how we met her, and the same words kept coming up to describe her, over and over.
The bright presence of her. The earnest desire to please. The joy she had in life. Her yearning to soar high, her vibrant alive-ness, that marked everyone who knew her.
When she gave me the Darkhouse that stands in Morgaine, she said it was her way of thanking me for inspiring her. I still, even now, have this urge to shake my head at that.
"Inspiring you?" I remember asking her. "All I've done is given you some advice. You created everything else."
"You helped me," she told me in return. "You helped, and I want to thank you for that."
If the memory of your life, once lived, can make people laugh, and cry, smile and weep, and yes, be inspired--then, regardless of when or where, how much your life was cut short, you have done a great thing by living it.
Sumie did that, at the very least. And she did so much more.
I'd like to mention something that happened yesterday evening, something that Mr. Drinkwater, master of the grace note, thought appropriate to read as tribute at her memorial:
An Irish Airman Foresees His Death
I know that I shall meet my fate
Somewhere among the clouds above;
Those that I fight I do not hate,
Those that I guard I do not love;
My country is Kiltartan Cross,
My countrymen Kiltartan's poor,
No likely end could bring them loss
Or leave them happier than before.
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight,
Nor public men, nor cheering crowds,
A lonely impulse of delight
Drove to this tumult in the clouds;
I balanced all, brought all to mind,
The years to come seemed waste of breath,
A waste of breath the years behind
In balance with this life, this death.
I'll be in and out of this mood for a while yet, I think. It's going to be a few more days before I get the strength to go down to the ground in Morgaine, and look up at the Darkhouse. But that, I have, from her. Whatever else strange and surreal happens to the property--that, at least, is tribute to her spirit, quirks and virtues, flaws and loyal friendship, and to the works she built with her hands and heart.
All of us in Caledon, at the very least, have that from her--nearly every lighthouse Caledon has was built by her capable hands. It's nice to know that most of the light in the darkness she helped bring home.
Twenty-six. It was far too young to die.
(Initial stanza comes from the Indigo Girls' song Ghost; it deals with nostalgic recollection of a poisoned love. Sumie and I, we weren't that, we were friends...but she was very dear to me.)
10 November, 2008
it's the hard-knock life
Whilst waiting impatiently for the chair to cycle around to E for an especially vibrant J-pop styled Black Maria hair, Miss Linda Poplin dropped by.
She is bruised, bloody, battered, there are skinned knees and bruised hips you don't see in this pic, she's got a bullet between her eyes, two black eyes and a split lip, and yes, those are drywall nails through her arms.
Her store--called, unsurprisingly, Blood & Scars--is listed in her pics. I had to check it out.
This place is...something. Stores in Second Life that contain things that creep me out are rare, and this place has a few. Miss Neome and I couldn't decide if the scalpel-version tic-tac-toe backwork or the words carved into bellies were more disturbing; but also, they have things which are just prime to own for my zombie collection of, err...bits and pieces. Like the stitched-all-over set, or the stitched finger gloves, or the eye scar...
Useful. Creepy, undeniably, but...useful.
There's a lot of these places, in various little post-apocalyptic corners of the grid. Bloody Hell, for instance:
which was my former wounds-and-claw-marks store of choice, a while back. They used to be the only one in existence (barring Ropeworx, which really always has been more about tie marks and shibari). Or Bloodline--not to be confused with the game of vampiric idiocy--whose specialty seems to be really disturbing eyes:
and very real-appearing welts, scrapes and rope burns:
In contrast, Bruised & Bloodied only has one vendor:
but it's in the middle of the Junkyard, a post-apocalyptic, damage-enabled, freeform wandering wasteland that is, all things considered, kinda neat.
If you're into the whole, post-apocalyptic, civilization-tottering-past-collapse motif for your woundplay, Aunty Entity--and oh, how I love that name--is really the place to go. But they're so much more than just wounds. They're really two hangers full of everything.
Plus? She has a razor-wicked sense of humor.
Finally, that brings us to Cruelful Cosmetics:
Cruelful is more expensive than any two of the others combined, but they do gunshots really, really well. Getting shot is not now, and never has been, my thing, but I can definitely envision certain settings where such might be of use. If so, that's your place to go, hands down.
We're still picking up things from Hallows, so our parcel is still all foggy and spooky in Morgaine--but I did have a moment of shocked confusion coming home a couple days back.
I admit, it was very much the "OMG WE'RE DROWWWNING" reaction, but on reflection, I calmed down, and asked quietly in ISC chat if they knew why we had rising water in Morgaine. Turns out, Duchess Edwina Heron bought the bulk of Morgaine that Miss Uni Ninetails owned, as she had to quickly sell parcels to reinforce land stability elsewhere. (I think of this as yet more fallout from the OpenSpace sim debacle.) So, she sold the parcels to Eds, and took everything she owned back, which pretty much dropped the center of Morgaine back to water for a bit, until Eds gets set up.
So, glad there's explanation, but still. Unnerving as hell at first.
She is bruised, bloody, battered, there are skinned knees and bruised hips you don't see in this pic, she's got a bullet between her eyes, two black eyes and a split lip, and yes, those are drywall nails through her arms.
Her store--called, unsurprisingly, Blood & Scars--is listed in her pics. I had to check it out.
This place is...something. Stores in Second Life that contain things that creep me out are rare, and this place has a few. Miss Neome and I couldn't decide if the scalpel-version tic-tac-toe backwork or the words carved into bellies were more disturbing; but also, they have things which are just prime to own for my zombie collection of, err...bits and pieces. Like the stitched-all-over set, or the stitched finger gloves, or the eye scar...
Useful. Creepy, undeniably, but...useful.
There's a lot of these places, in various little post-apocalyptic corners of the grid. Bloody Hell, for instance:
which was my former wounds-and-claw-marks store of choice, a while back. They used to be the only one in existence (barring Ropeworx, which really always has been more about tie marks and shibari). Or Bloodline--not to be confused with the game of vampiric idiocy--whose specialty seems to be really disturbing eyes:
and very real-appearing welts, scrapes and rope burns:
In contrast, Bruised & Bloodied only has one vendor:
but it's in the middle of the Junkyard, a post-apocalyptic, damage-enabled, freeform wandering wasteland that is, all things considered, kinda neat.
If you're into the whole, post-apocalyptic, civilization-tottering-past-collapse motif for your woundplay, Aunty Entity--and oh, how I love that name--is really the place to go. But they're so much more than just wounds. They're really two hangers full of everything.
Plus? She has a razor-wicked sense of humor.
Finally, that brings us to Cruelful Cosmetics:
Cruelful is more expensive than any two of the others combined, but they do gunshots really, really well. Getting shot is not now, and never has been, my thing, but I can definitely envision certain settings where such might be of use. If so, that's your place to go, hands down.
We're still picking up things from Hallows, so our parcel is still all foggy and spooky in Morgaine--but I did have a moment of shocked confusion coming home a couple days back.
I admit, it was very much the "OMG WE'RE DROWWWNING" reaction, but on reflection, I calmed down, and asked quietly in ISC chat if they knew why we had rising water in Morgaine. Turns out, Duchess Edwina Heron bought the bulk of Morgaine that Miss Uni Ninetails owned, as she had to quickly sell parcels to reinforce land stability elsewhere. (I think of this as yet more fallout from the OpenSpace sim debacle.) So, she sold the parcels to Eds, and took everything she owned back, which pretty much dropped the center of Morgaine back to water for a bit, until Eds gets set up.
So, glad there's explanation, but still. Unnerving as hell at first.
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it's just your shadow on the floor
(This section was written on July 11th...) Great. Sat myself down today after oversleeping, and told myself sternly I was not going to log...
