My impression is not only that these young women provide
sexual favors in exchange for money, as you suggest, but that they also
violate cultural norms by failing to straighten their hair
to more closely conform to European standards of beauty.
The young women in question certainly have the right to
respond in any way they see fit; but I think it would have
been cool if they'd issued like a two-word press release,
along the lines of:
Make the zombie-dude feel small...
So let's see.
The next time I logged into Second Life after giving up on
finding the semi-autonomous agent that I left on the party
island when I went off to do other things, I had an IM from
someone in a sandbox one island over, asking how to get it
to leave him alone.
Fortunately he was very understanding.
is an unauthorized on-going video art performance collaboration
with the New York City Metropolitan Transit Authority, Clear
Channel Communications, and its selected artists.
Lab Finds First iPod Virus (oooo!); from Ian, the very memorable
Alameda-Weehawken Burrito Tunnel;
and (found in a completely unrelated Google search):
is a mixture of Nomic, a game in which the moves consist of
making rules, and conlanging, the art and craft of making a
language. It is, in other words, a game for serious hardcore
process and language geeks.
The idea is to create a new language by bootstrapping off a
very small previously agreed upon minilanguage, consisting of
just a few dozen words.
Wouldn't that be fun?
Depression, as well as being an extremely annoying
disease (condition / illness / phenomenon), is also a
It raises all sorts of deep and surprising questions about
the whole mind-body thing, about motivation and why we do
what we do, about the aims and purposes and ends (if any)
And/or, it calls into question lots of the easy, or even
the hard-won, answers that we might have been previously
giving ourselves when those questions came up.
(And then, of course, some chunk of the time it interferes
seriously with putting any effort into the examination of
its own fascinatingness.
Which is one of the reasons it's so annoying.)
I'm pretty good right now (thanks!), and have been pretty
good for awhile really.
Maybe the shiny new medications, maybe some shift in the
stressors that may or may not have brought on the whole
thing, maybe some internal realignment of whatever inchoate
things there are in there supporting more or less stably
the convincing-looking upper layers.
Which is to say, among other things, that my not weblogging
for weeks at a time can be blamed less on any complex
psychological condition than it can be on good old
I'll resist posting any pitchers here, but here's
a page I made
to link to from the "Web" page of my SL profile.
Aren't we cute and/or otherwise admirable?
The other day the little boy was playing some of his
Weird Al songs from iTunes, and one of them was
Paradise, which I thought was hysterical.
A day or two later I was a panda in a Second Life dance club,
and the DJ was asking for requests, and I said "How about
some Weird Al?", and a song or two later he played
That was fun.
Also I made a little (well, two or three meter) star-shaped thing
with a sort of simmering glow at the center that floats slowly
around in the sky, sometimes coming down to hover over someone,
sometimes wandering randomly off.
I rather absent-mindedly left a couple of copies of it floating
around; one on a relatively new island that a friend's kindly given
some of us rights on, and another on an IBM-owned island where
there was a beach party last night.
I went in rather guiltily this morning to see if they'd been
harassing anyone (the beach-party one had drifted over the heads
of the party-goers and in and out of the walls of the tiki hut
a few times during the party, but no one really seemed to notice).
I found the one on the non-party island pretty quickly and took
it into my inventory for later enhancing.
The copy on the party island was nowhere to be found, though;
I dunno if it was just 'way up high somewhere in too much vastness
for me to find it, or if it got deleted somehow, or if I actually
took it back before I left the party and forgot.
Semi-autonomous 'bots can be so much trouble.
Easter today, which means Easter Dinner (the Feast of the
Risen God), and hunting for dyed eggs in the living room
We had ham and asparagus and mashed potatoes and so forth.
And because of my delicate condition we decided to take some
of the Easter Stress off by going to Grandma's
Restaurant and Pie Shop down 202 and buying (ooooh!) a
couple of pies (one apple pie and one carrot cake), rather
than baking stuff.
So right now we're sitting around on the big bed listening
to yet more Weird Al ("too much Jerry Springer!"), and
eating apple pie and carrot
cake and generally feeling that things are pretty good.
Better late than...
Uhhh... whenever they refer to someone as "the late ...", I can't
think of anything that'd be better than.
I miss you. --Unu
not turn up at all, she said. And I think she meant it. After all,
she was wearing nothing but one of my shirts and my hiking socks.
And a look of longing, such longing . . . .
I have such the best readers!
(And, as we say in SL, "awwww, ty unu! :))")