Erosion

There is another process shaping these islands
where you have to begin with a stretch (as in
that’s a stretch), and New England was once
much bigger, the tropics had much more water,
but the water doesn’t sunder the land from itself,
is stormless and without any power. All it can do
is hug these islands and coasts and sometimes
change color as it listens only to this other
thing at work, arranging and arranging,
all the while building theories of synecdoche
for dock, breaker, beach that seem to split the shore.
That breeze that fills your sail and carries you.
Those docks where the other boats moor.
These sentences from deep inside the other
thing that carry you past the shore.

Prints for your Walls

I made some prints that you can download and put up on the walls of your house.

Drapes (potato print)

Tupi Mountain House (pencil and gauche)

Tupi c. 1939 (photographer unknown)

Washy summer (engraving)

Self portrait (digital print)

I’m back

Well, I was gone for a while. I acted really crazy, bitchy, cryptic, angry with everyone I knew, and one night, I did myself in by pushing the cancel account button — poof, I was gone, everything: the winter palace, the garden skybox, my face, everything I was wearing, my airplanes, my fancy tennis shoes, my robot Minerva.  I was drinking a lot virtual gin, then, and it made me totally insane. Life went on as usual in the land of real picnic tables and highways, of course, but I missed myself. Over the course of my time here, I managed to send off for a few prints of my better snap shots. I framed them and put them up on my real walls. I’d look at those pictures, missing myself, missing the place I’d spent so many hours wandering through. One day, I decided to see if they would let me back in. They had me set up in under 24 hours. I logged in, and there I was, exactly as I had been at the moment of my death. I looked in my suitcase. Everything was there, all the trees, houses, dresses. It seems as though no one really dies here; they just wind up in some deep database coma.

The first thing I did was to set up a little squat in the snowlands. It’s a lot more humble than my previous place, but I like it. I have a cabin, a chair, a futon, and a rug. There are some struggling pine trees in the front lawn. I’m going to try to get the fireplace working soon, because it’s getting pretty cold as we move into winter, and I have a few extra prims for a few more rugs. It’s not too far from where I lived before and it isn’t far from the train, so the location is perfect. I’ll see how long it lasts.

After I got set up, I walked down the hill and caught the train. When I reached the end of the line, I just kept walking, all the way up through Sansera, through the channel on the ferry, and all the way around the Atoll. For days I walked. The first thing I did here when I arrived here in 2007 was to walk the railroad tracks. I wanted to do that again. Walking here is so meditative and orienting. I wanted to get back to that original moment and think about it. As I walked, I asked myself for something to do here. Those who have died and come back often need something to do.

I took some pictures along the way. The mainland is different now, more emptied out, more spacious, more peaceful but a little sad in an autumn kind of way. Places I once knew to be thriving were almost totally empty. Still, some sims remain green and alive. It feels like walking at the end of the world. It’s exciting. I’m glad the Lindens kept me on ice while I was gone.

Today

Purc and I rode a Phoebe to the top of Risoul and took a bunch of pictures.

I’m trying to learn how to do runway landings, so I practiced at Snoodpoort.

Did some writing about sky boxes, and thought about the Selene. Just tonight, I realized that the wires hanging down from the fuselage are what gather static electricity from the clouds.

Walked around Bay City. I hadn’t been there in a while.

That’s it.

1941

2112, originally uploaded by sachiebade.

It’s like I saw it.

How to Check Your IP Address

Sign up for an account here. Remember the Email address that you use to sign up.

Go to Second Life’s “My Account: Forgot Your Name or Password?: Forgot Your Password?” page at:

https://secure-web31.secondlife.com/my/account/request .php?lang=en

Put your Email address into the field beneath “Forgot Your Name?”

Click the “Forgot Account Name” button.

Check your Email.

Open the “Your Second Life account name” message in your Inbox.

Your IP Address appears in parenthesis at the bottom of the message.

Little Boxes

There’s a green one and a pink one
And a blue one and a yellow one,
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky
And they all look just the same.

On the hillside

Back to Tordangle & Beyond

Tonight, I’m really trying to clear my thoughts of disasters, natural and otherwise, so I hopped back into the Air Camper and made my way north again with the intention of exploring the lands beyond the village this time. I do dearly love our messy little garden here and don’t want to see it destroyed, whatever form that destruction may take.  In the 1980’s, psychologists had a term for the effect that the knowledge of thermonuclear war imposed upon the human psyche. It was called psychic numbing. I find it kind of hilarious that we would collectively invent a disorder for one the most natural impulses that a body could have, to not think about the unthinkable.  If  I’m numbing my psyche in the face of a terrible possibility, then so be it.

Just as a side note, the Aircamper is IMHO one of the best planes for exploring Second Life for those who are inclined towards air travel. It was originally created by Ezekiel Bailly, then modified by Driff Beadmore. You can get the original version for free (no longer available–too bad), and it is very nice, but I highly recommend the modified version, as it has a number of features which make it suitable for adventures, most notably the addition of pontoons that allow you to land on water or on land. The modified version, Pietenpol Air Camper Sr., is only L$250 and is well worth the small fee. Being a well-scripted, low-prim aircraft, the thing faithfully crosses sims and almost never fails, at least for me. Plus, I think that it is quite stylish both in its name and in the way it looks. Anyway, hats off to Ezekiel and Driff for giving us this little marvel.

Air Camper, Sr.

Well, the camper brought me faithfully to my destination once again in the great manner of the golden age of flight, as I very much expected.

On my way

I parked my plane on the beach near a small tidal pool and got out. I was so excited to explore the island beyond. I could see all of the familiar sights I saw the other day, and I raced past, climbing up the hill, past the shops, the kenpa circles, all of it.

Racing up the hill

When I got to the end of the village, something stopped me. There is this great scene in Grizzly Man, where  the camera just rolls on the weeds and trees being blown by the wind. It’s not actually Herzog’s shot, but it is Herzog who recognizes what the camera can do. I sat down on a bench in the village and looked at the clover growing.

Clovers

I guess it’s my antidote for nuclear war

How to Create a Real Wastelands: The Virtual Hydrogen Bomb

Oh dear! I went out to see if I got any letters today and discovered something truly disturbing in my mailbox. It was a booklet sent from the Office of Emergency Management and an agency with the strangely archaic-sounding name, “His Majesty’s Stationary Office.” I guess they got my address when I applied for a disaster assistance loan and added me to some list.

In Case of Attack

Of course, none of this craziness would require fiddling around with atomic nuclei in a secret laboratory in New Mexico or Snezhinsk. No Atomgrads here, just lines of code developed whenever it was felt necessary to provide a “deterrent” in the interest of protecting National Security. “The mad fools!,” as Alexei de Sadesky proclaims in Dr. Strangelove when he discovers that his own government has activated an automated doomsday device.

Jeez, this stuff used to scare the knickers off of me when I was a young one out there in real life la la land. Now, I guess the youth and the crazies have the planet Niribu to fret over, and when I think long and hard enough on it, I have a difficult time finding any substantial difference between my adolescent fears and theirs. So, who am I to judge?

Anyway, I’m going to let you read a particularly frightening section of In Case of Attack here, because I feel like the material therein is something with which every Second Life resident should at least have a passing familiarity…

Do You Know Where You Stand?

The map pictured below graphically represents the range of effects from the detonation of a 1 Megabyte Blue Mars ground burst device in the approximate center of the Sansara continent of Second Life. Descriptions of modifications to builds, avatars, and the long-term effects of such a detonation follow.

Blast effects from a Blue Mars 1MB Device

1-2 Sims from ground zero

Builds: All structures, scripts, and textures instantly deleted. Terrain mesh is turned black with a fine dusty brown glow which persists for a period of several years, post-event.

Avatars: 100% of avatar account information, including inventory, Linden Dollars, etc. deleted instantly. Permanent IP block from Second Life placed into effect immediately for everyone within these regions.

Long-Term Effects: Rebuilding, scripting, and texturing becomes impossible within this zone for a period of at least two years. Avatars spending more than 15 minutes at a time in these areas automatically have their accounts set to expire one year after date of over exposure with a permanent IP block from Second Life.

3-4 Sims from ground zero

Builds: Structures, scripts, and textures heavily damaged or destroyed (many missing prims, lines of code). Remaining textures take on a gray or black underlying color. Terrain mesh becomes a dark brownish gray.

Avatars: 50% of avatar accounts instantly deleted and IP blocked. Surviving avatars sustain permanent loss of one or more abilities, e.g. building, communicating, or flying. 50% of financial assets deleted. All accounts are set to permanently expire at a date not less than one year and no more than three years from the time of detonation. Avatars assume a stigmatizing dusty brown glow.

Long-Term Effects: Rebuilding and spending long durations in these regions is extremely hazardous, as random accounts will be flagged for expiration in one to three years from point of over exposure.

5-7 Sims from ground zero

Builds: Moderate damage to structures and scripts (missing prims, lines of code). Textures and terrain mesh receive a light gray underlying color.

Avatars: 25% of avatar accounts instantly deleted and IP blocked. Survivors suffer a temporary (3 to 4 month) loss of one or more abilities. 25% of financial assets deleted. Accounts are set to expire at a date no less than two but not more than four years from point of detonation.

Long-Term Effects: Rebuilding in these regions is risky. A small percentage of avatars who spend long periods of time in these area will have their accounts flagged for deletion in two to four years.

8-10 Sims from ground zero

Builds: A few structures sustain light damage (missing prims only). Scripts remain intact. Terrain mesh and textures unaffected.

Avatars: 1-2% of avatar accounts instantly deleted without IP block due to falling debris and small fires. Avatars outside of structures at the time of detonation suffer a temporary loss of eyesight persisting for up to two days. Most remain unaffected.

Long-Term Effects: Repair and Habitation of structures is safe in these areas.

In Summary

The immediate physical devastation and disease that this device would cause is certainly unthinkable, but such an event would have other, long-lasting effects, as well. Economic impacts would take place on a scale never witnessed before. Large refugee populations from affected areas would place a great strain on server resources. A sense of sadness would prevail over the whole land. Read the next chapter “WTF are We Going to Do Now?” to learn more.

##

Dang. Just typing that up was scary.

I do have to wonder a little bit at the specific anxiety subtext in terms of an assumed foe. I mean, I went to that wrongly hued Mars once, and it felt like a really hot and humid afternoon at Celebration, where all the people stay in the air conditioning. It didn’t look weird or broken at all. Not my thing, and, hopefully, no real threat to our way of life here on the mainland.

Well, I’m going to hop in my Dreamliner now and go to sleep and try to think about something nice. First thing tomorrow, I’m going to get up and call the OOEM and those stationary people (whoever they are) and have them take me off of their mailing list. This Cold War propaganda business is a real comb-over. Give me some propaganda that is a little bit more now.

Nite nite :)

An Evening in Tordangle

My flight out of Grand Manan last night took me to the most wonderful place. I flew over the Blake Sea and out to Spyglass Island where I took a short break (my hands were getting cold), then made my way up along the eastern edge of Nautilus until I reached Tordangle, a beautiful little Japanese fishing village and yacht club.

The flight lasts about 45 minutes, but it is well worth it, as there are lots of interesting islands and ports to see from the plane on the way there. Almost the entire route is over the sea, as well, so you don’t have to worry about the usual hazards to aircraft like full parcels and banlines. Here’s the map:

Flight Route from Grand Manan to Tordangle

Fortunately, I made a short film of my landing in Tordangle, which should give you a nice idea of the lay of the land (or water as the case may be). About half way through, you’ll see that I almost collided mid-water with another seaplane that was taking off at the same time I was landing. I don’t think either of us saw the other until it was almost too late, but we somehow managed to stay off of the eleven o’clock news.

After like five cigarettes and once my knees stopped shaking, I was able to deplane and have a look around. The village takes up the entire sim, so there is a lot to see and do. I started by exploring a weathered little house which was surrounded by a beach.

House on the beach

Inside, I found all sorts of fabulous little details, like this record player and vase with cut flowers.

An intimate scene

I was also excited to find that someone had laid dinner out on the table. It was a breakfast dinner actually with eggs sunny side up, tomato slices, milk, bread and fruit. I’d gotten hungry on the way here, so this was a nice surprise. There was even a candle burning which gave my meal a pleasant atmosphere, and the food tasted so good in the salty air coming in from the window.

A simple yummy meal

I’d spotted a sea wall with a row of buildings at the top as I was walking over to the house, so, after I finished eating, I decided to go and have a look. I made my way up a set of old stone steps, and the first thing I encountered was a stand that offered steaming hot pork buns for free. I couldn’t resist, though I felt a little bit like Chihiro’s parents in Spirited Away.

Here piggy

And while these buns didn’t magically transform me into a pig, they turned out to be remarkable in their own way. As I munched away, I noticed that the bun was slowly disappearing in my hands as I ate. How cool?

Magic buns (lol)

It turned out that the row of buildings was a mix of small shops and houses. There was an art supply store with a giant tube of oil paint leaning against the door, a shop that sold anime pets, and a furniture boutique. All of the prices were reasonable and there were freebies everywhere. There was also an alleyway behind the first row of shops that had some interesting things for free and for sale, as well as some adorable little nooks to sit and get away from it all. I picked up a cute low-prim tea set there for free that will look good on my dining room table.

Shops on the first row

The alley behind

I even played a game of kenpa while listening to the wind chimes.

After poking around some more, it was getting to be time to go, so I headed back to the dock where I’d tied up my plane and flew off. There was so much more to see and do here. The Tordangle sim is an incredible place. Everywhere you look there is some odd and subtle detail all tied together harmoniously in this strange little village. I know I’ll be coming back here soon to see them all.

Clovers