log (2007/04/06 to 2007/04/12)

IMUS: Indeed, Bernard! 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. My!

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:

Don who?

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.

Ooops! *8)

Fortunately he was very understanding.

From here:

Pixelator is an unauthorized on-going video art performance collaboration with the New York City Metropolitan Transit Authority, Clear Channel Communications, and its selected artists.

Also: Kaspersky Lab Finds First iPod Virus (oooo!); from Ian, the very memorable Alameda-Weehawken Burrito Tunnel; and (found in a completely unrelated Google search):

Nomilang 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?

Hi again!

Depression, as well as being an extremely annoying disease (condition / illness / phenomenon), is also a fascinating one. 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) of life. 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 Second Life. *8)

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 Amish 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 "Amish Paradise". That was fun.

Let's see. 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. *8)

Easter today, which means Easter Dinner (the Feast of the Risen God), and hunting for dyed eggs in the living room and all. Great fun! 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...


electrical banana

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! *8)

(And, as we say in SL, "awwww, ty unu! :))")