I Want My Portal of Civilization!

I read an unsettling article the other day about the Cushing Academy, a prep school for children and young adults, that is eliminating its library of 20,000 books. The headmaster, Dr. James Tracy justified his decision this way: “You know [holding up a book], if I look at this book I am struck by how limited it is. This is pretty bulky. I don’t mean to belittle or disparage it. I love books, and I love the representation of culture that they embody, but, from an information perspective, this is a very, very bulky way to reposit data by today’s standards.” A book is too bulky? Has anyone tried to snuggle into bed with a Kindle?

Instead of books Tracy will provide computers which he has named “Portals of Civilization”. I hope you understand, dear readers, that the information you seek is chosen for you - as in any analog collection. But many of your online sources are chosen by Google and other filters. And if we’re talking books, for example, they have to be copyright free. You'll need to supplement! While it may seem convenient as you sit in front of the laptop eating crackers over the keyboard, nothing beats the serendipity (there’s that word again, MM ;) ) of browsing in the stacks. Here’s an interesting study taken from student discussion groups across the country. Some of their observations about research in the digital age describe how students waste time online not knowing what to look for, yet still sift through articles trying to make them fit their needs, or try to figure out if an article is up to date, or whether something is from a credible source. This article, “Google Book Search: A Disaster for Scholars” ought to give an institution pause before hurling themselves fully into the digital zone without the infrastructure to support the idea. Google makes mistakes, the article tells us, my favorite being a misattribution of the following book, The Mosaic Navigator: The Essential Guide to the Internet Interface, which Google dates 1939 and attributes to Sigmund Freud and Katherine Jones.

In place of the stacks the Cushing Academy spent $42,000 on 3 flat screen tvs that will project data from the internet. The reference desk was removed to make way for a $12,000 cappuccino machine. When I was 13, I did not drink coffee, and the last place I wanted to hang out socially was in school. But school and city libraries were always an escape, a place to explore books in peace. They are the most comforting places in the world to me, libraries, full of possibility, imagination, offering answers to all my questions, or raising questions, which is even better. In a time when most of us are tethered to our computers and gadgets, the physical sensation of turning a well-worn page offers a form of respite that cannot be replaced. There's also plenty to admire in the physical, like the well-worn publisher's binding of something other than a mass market paperback. As a friend's shrink used to say, I think what we're looking for here is a balance. The Cushing Library states that few of their books were checked out. I think it's up to the Cushing Library to make their library truly relevant to their students.

As for online resources, I know Teen Second Life has got some wonderful projects that would put Dr. Tracy in a happy technological flutter. And, for you older folks, our Second Life libraries can be great…just visit the Alliance Library blog for access to a variety of in-world collections. I look forward to how online collections will develop. A really fine afternoon can be spent at the R.F. Burton Library in New Babbage (shown in the photo above). Click on the stacks and you’ll have immediate access to a wide of subjects (online books from credible sources!) having to do with Steampunk and Victorian history and literature, domestic science, and spiritualism. I’m particularly proud to be a member of the Caledon Libraries, who set the bar for sharing access to library collections.

There are so many different ways to uncover information and become literate, and you students of life and students of schools have to know how to find stuff in a myriad of ways. But remember, as my friend Matthew says, no one beats the book’s terms of service.

I'm no seamstress

I can't believe I've never written about fashion in sl. My gawd. Having grown up with a seamstress granny who taught me how to thrift, I am well obsessed with clothes. I settled in Caledon because of the intellectual scene but, let's face it, the population are some of the best-dressed on the grid. Now and then I'll come up with some idea for an outfit, but I'm not sure I have the patience (or the equipment - hard to make buttons using a touch pad). I think I'll leave it to the array of incredible designers out there. My last attempt at dressmaking was for a Victorian gown based on an 1883 travel album containing albumen photographs from India. The top of the dress includes an image of the Tomb of Altamash in New Delhi, which was built in 1235. See how the architectural forms reflect the feminine, as in renaissance and baroque architecture, which acknowledged the human form. These forms are later seen in the work of the artists of the Art Noveau movement, who reveled in the fanciful, swirling line known as "whiplash", which celebrated the sensual female figure...and why shouldn't we celebrate that figure, eh? Here's an example of a designer whose clothing absolutely adores all figures: Hyasynth Tiramisu.

Primgraph Magazine

This entry is made on the run - i.e. sandwiched between rl obligations - but wanted to be sure to cite the Primgraph Magazine (edited by Alesia Markstein) "The Metaverse Magazine for the 1740s-1920s sims within Second Life". The content is very much worth reading (*ahem*, I contributed an article on Lady Lovelace), including articles on topics of General Interest, Arts & Culture, Fashion, Society and Technology. The magazine offers wonderful insight into the programming, social life and activities within Second Life's "before present"(pre-1950's) themed sims.

It's available in-world but I encourage you also to take tea (coffee/absinthe) and visit the magazine online via Calameo. The technology is really entertaining, allowing for a more actual reading experience - have fun flipping the pages back and forth, just like a real magazine, minus tearing and folding over the pages. Here's the link to the magazine - click "read the publication". Happy reading!

Lady Lovelace at the Whitehorn

What a great turn out for the opening on Saturday. Thank you all for coming! I couldn't have done it without the support of Sir JJ and Sir Zenmondo, who patiently answered my endless questions. This exhibition is truly dedicated to Sir Zenmondo, who is Ada's long lost partner in code poetry. Thank you to Miss Poppy for the portrait of Zen. Thank you also to Miss Snook who provided suitable music and commentary, and set a perfect tone.

The exhibition inspired a visitor to relate the following tale about Charles Babbage - my favorite so far:

13:01] RF: Here is my factorite Babbage anecdote.

[13:02] RF:Babbage once took issue with one of Tennyson's poems. The poet soon received a letter from the logician:

"In your otherwise beautiful poem," Babbage wrote, "one verse reads,

Every moment dies a man,

Every moment one is born.

"If this were true, the population of the world would be at a standstill. In truth, the rate of birth is slightly in excess of that of death. I would suggest:

Every moment dies a man,

Every moment 1 1/16 is born.

"Strictly speaking," Babbage added, "the actual figure is so long I cannot get it into a line, but I believe the figure 1 1/16 will be sufficiently accurate for poetry."

Upstairs Downstairs

All things being rather limitless in sl, owning land doesn't tether you only to your terrain. In rl I own a parking space and am allowed to build freely up to 7 feet above the ground. In sl, I can build over 500 meters into the sky.

Since moving into Caledon, I've kept my boots firmly on the ground, with only a few forays into the sky via hot air balloon. I've heard there are some dirigibles and the like hovering overhead but I was not prepared for what I did, in fact, discover, as I rocketed up above my cottage.

High in the sky, dotting the airscape, I found a whole assortment of what can only be described as love shacks - sweet, quirky, private, and experimental. I felt I had stumbled upon "the king's chambre" in Lauderdale House, Charles the II's room where he met his mistress Nell Gwynn. There is something so romantic about settling in the sky, among the clouds, the sunset stretching before you. So this is what my neighbors have been up to...and here I was thinking it was so quiet when there was a world of action right over my head.

Of course I had to assemble my own little dreamy yurt....

Yes!

Okay, I may cop all my entries from Bettina Tizzy’s fantastic blog (Not Possible in Real Life) but I must also promote this sculpture by Blackthorne Hare.

In his sculpture titled “Yes”, Blackthorne has frozen a moment in time. A jet blazes into pieces above a busy intersection, about to blast apart the peaceful neighborhood below. Trucks and cars tremor in anticipation – their fate depicted through ghostly shadows.
There’s angst and worry here, a feeling that one gets when things seem too quiet, too serene. Blackthorne is the father of a young child and I can’t help but think how his sculpture describes that moment that parents carry around with them always – the idea that things may just detonate. But there’s hope here too. Directly beneath the nose of the crashing plane is an embrace pose. One could look at this as a moment of utter desolation, an embrace goodbye, or else an unyielding defense against despair through human connection.

The exhibition is up until March 11th – go!

World of Interiors

Now and then, during twilight when all looks inviting and curious, I like to stroll around and peer through the glowing windows of my neighbors to look at their stuff. As a curator of personal effects I appreciate character left out on display and objects of personal significance. Perhaps I ought to spend some time writing a few World of Interiors entries in order to feature some of the amazing and wonderful artifacts created and cared for by my dear neighbors.

Here's my little forge house in Stormhold. I don't have too many prims but each thing I've placed makes me feel right at home; above the fireplace is a hex sign offering luck and happiness to visitors, in the corner a 1792 celestial globe by Giovanni Cassini; my beloved Victrola cranks out the tunes of the 20s and 30s, and a mask of the Kwak'wala of the Pacific Northwest Coast (my thesis subject) hangs next to a statue of Charles Babbage (the subject of an exhibition I'm working on for Lovelace).

Keep your curtains open!

Blog tag...

Welcomed into a game of blog tag by Achariya (http://www.achariya.net/2007/12/taggz0rzed.html)
here are 8 random facts about self:

I was born on an army base
I’ve studied ancient slingshot techniques in Mallorca, Spain
As a kid I spent a lot of time hanging around funeral homes
I prefer boots but welcome an excuse to dress up
I’m a printmaker and illustrator who hasn’t done either in four years
My first computer game was Adventure (Colossal Cave)
I’m more shy in SL than I am in RL
If it weren’t for Caledon, I would have quit SL in a matter of days…

Extending the charge to the following, if they’re willing to accept:
Project Q
Iason Hassanov
Soleil Snook
Abigail Raymaker
Emily Orr
Tinsel Silvera
Eggberta Echegaray

Rez Day = Birthday

Me with lemming gun, preparing to strike the runners...


The residents of Caledon were invited way on high up to Polymath Upstairs to celebrate the rez day of Colonel Exrex Somme. I arrived inappropriately dressed in my latest can-can gear (tiny top hat, to-the-knee skirt and corset) so flew off to a discreet corner of the sky to change into something more appropriate. I had no idea how high up I was* until I plunged down onto a deserted island below. I dusted off my knees, seemingly alone, when I suddenly saw a blinding red cape flutter over the hill towards me. An Italian avie dressed as Superman blared “WHERE AM I? WHERE ARE ALL THE PEOPLE?!” I calmed him down, made him put on a tux, and sent him on his way. Next I changed into an enormous black layered ballgown…which would become a hindrance later…

Back Upstairs I found a dance in full swing and jumped right away into a 10 person polonaise that whirled me around the floor – certainly not a traditional polonaise but a wild, let your hair down one – Caledon-style that included crinolines and sweat, whoots and huzzahs. I, and my typist, were made dizzy as we ran round and round the floor. Colleen and I had recruited a new friend earlier, while fencing, a Mr. Polo Watkins, and he gamely offered to join me in a wheelbarrow race, designed by Mr. Hotspur O’Toole and set on a track 600 feet above Middlesea.

I agreed to carry, as I didn’t want Watkins to look up my skirt but, this being sl, opportunities to reveal ones undergarments are all to easy. I clicked on a pink poseball and the skirt of my dress instantly poofed into Mr. Watkins’s face as I squatted in preparation to lift him onto his hands. “Er, you know I can’t see?” he said through muffled fabric.

After a bit of readjusting, courtesy of O’Toole we were off. I haven’t laughed this hard since my first day in sl. Watkins flapped his palms against the track as I shoved him along…we hollered and cursed as we hobbled round…we could see spectators preparing to pelt us with guns that shot out purple squeaking lemmings (no idea!). We got lost in a swarm of explosions and were suddenly stuck with half the track left til the finish line. “Go! GO!” My partner barked. “Help!” I yelled. My feet were fused to the track. The hands of the race timer went round and round as my typist clicked frantically trying to bump ourselves off whatever was holding us back. I held on to his flapping feet and his face turned beet red from being upside down for so long. . “You know I’m blaming you for this predicament”. Watkins laughed. Lemmings and other obstructions swirled around us and I could see we were drawing a crowd. Mr. O’Toole found us in the middle of all the mayhem and made some adjustments to the track, allowing us to make our way, limping, to the finish line. But hey, we didn’t fall off…

After we caught our breath O’Toole asked “Where are all the lemmings?” So we obliged by letting out a volley of the little creatures in celebration of all things Somme. After wishing him well and thanking our hosts, the three of us made our way home, chuckling…

*over a certain height normal hovering requires assistance from a flight feather or other attachment

Keep Quiet

“Your world. Your imagination.” This is SL’s motto and it’s pretty clear that residents make use of their imagination through fantastic bodies, wardrobes full of sl-couture clothes, partying into the wee hours dressed as vampires or foxes…this kind of thing. And so why would one want to ruin a perfectly good fantasy with real life details. Voice enabled chat fairly recently became available to users. Stick in your ear buds, post a microphone, and with one easy click you have another way to thrust yourself into the metaverse. While voice will benefit the academic/professional side of sl, it can be a drawback in social situations. For example,

I went to a party and my pal Colleen asked if I was listening to the chat around us. I thought voice was something I’d have to download and risk blowing my hard drive on but no, a change in preferences and suddenly I could hear the snuffling and coughing of my fellow avatars, right there, as if they were in the same room with me. Since I had no mic I eavesdropped (which everyone knew). While I’m captivated by the technology of Second Life that allows it to be so immersive, do I really need to listen to my fellow avatar, dressed in a maid’s uniform holding a kitty and dancing a super cute and sexy can-can that she’ll “brb – gotta take out the garbage”. Another fellow, who I had had my eye on, appeared to be – through his sounds anyway, an old geezer in a smoke stained upholstered rocking chair, eating from a bag of ranch Doritos. What I thought was an aloof cool, through his avatarian presentation, was really a voyeuristic human, breathing heavy and making comments to the ladies nearby that he liked watching their skirts rise as they danced. The others giggled and shot him down, saying “Now, now, dear” but still…the thing about text conversation is that you do have to think before you type, lest someone be offended. With voice, there’s no chance to amend your belches. Predictably, I’ve disabled the preference.

(credit to the image maker whose name I did not catch)

McCaledon

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I spent yesterday fiddling and fussing with landscaping, adjusting ferns, studying trees, constructing a tiny pier…I took some deep breaths of the fresh sea air. The pub sat squat across the inlet, cheery smoke pouring out the chimney. Beyond that I could see flickers of electricity crack within a tall brick mill. The trestle was outfitted with welcoming banners…all was industrious, exciting, friendly. I was happy with my tiny pier and the view out over the sea.

Homes in Second Life tend to be symbolic. There are few kitchens and I’ve not yet run across a toilet (except for an old abandoned privy). Homes are spaces to gather friends, perhaps change your clothes, and tinker with your builds. There are no limits to what you can design in sl. In fact, residents should let their freak flags fly. I bought land in Caledon to participate in a certain aesthetic – a steampunk aesthetic, which takes the best of Victorian curiosity, industry, and craftsmanship to produce a society that is well-mannered, adventurous and, let’s face it, well dressed.

As I tinkered, I noticed a wall going up along my property line. It was very white, in contrast to the beamed and stone structures that one typically sees in Caledon. Next to me, quite next to me actually, a woman in a bright purple gown twirled this way and that, rezzing plants, walls, curtains, fountains…every time I looked over there was some new structure. And it was growing larger, taller, wider, brighter - I felt myself tense up. I flew off the coast to get the lay of the land.

Now, I’ve spent all this energy, some money, and opened myself to ridicule to family and friends to enter this world of sl, for exploration yes, and, admittedly, a bit of imaginary breathing space. Once I was off the coast about 50 feet I could see what was going on.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” I seem to have moved next to My Big Fat Greek McMansion. Is it a house? Ballroom? Setting for a hip hop video? 19th century Victorian Scotland it ain’t. At first I was horrified. Other residents began to gather mid-air to stare at the madness that was being forced upon the fine green fields. It was like watching your favorite neighborhood being torn down in a matter of minutes. I was afraid if I didn’t put a house up she’d keep building right on top of me so I rezzed a squat stone cottage in the middle of my plot. I thought of selling my land immediately. I laughed out loud over my keyboard. This kind of building is exactly what I reject in real life and here it was, invading even a virtual perfect world.

Landowner

I'm taking the plunge. In order to totally immerse myself into this steampunk-y scene I've bought land in the new Caledon sim, called Wellesian*. It's a tiny plot, with room for perhaps a small cottage, or just a garden. I chose a spot right where the river meets the ocean so I'll have a sea view. The plot is practically under the Trestle so whatever I create, with the train and a tp station so close by, I'll be sure to welcome visitors. Newcomers to Caledon especially, should stop by to say hello.

I'm feeling a bit more comfortable now that I've got a place to stash my stuff, experiment with builds, and welcome guests. This move is in no way supposed to be some kind of substitute for the rl space that I crave. Though I'm not rp'ing in sl, the two worlds are completely separate.

*last night I overheard a debate about whether the "e" was to be removed.

** my plot is the one with the stripey prim, first square to my right.

Inspired by research I'm doing in rl on 19th c asian art curator Kojiro Tomita, I donned a kimono, obi and zori. As I strolled around Caledon, more strangers than usual came up to me to say hello and offered friendship. Something about the "shy" makeup I've applied, as well as passive gestures, have made me more approachable.

Of course, you can't judge a book by its cover. In a sandbox today, I came across an obnoxious guy who was hurling enormous knives into everyone's builds. He stood on a plinth, towering over everyone below, so I had to plank* him.

*sl term, to plank: to hurl yourself at another in order to knock him over.

High diving in Caledon

Examining sl drawings by artist and Art Center creator Mar Dwi (will try to share his work on this blog)

Sandbox experiments: Inside my newly built yurt

Too much whisky...

NOLA

Had a great time with my pal Colleen, wandering around New Orleans. I went ahead to scout out a church. Churches in sl offer a bit of respite from the short-skirted, Amsterdam-lovin’ crowds. I’ve found opportunities for decent conversation and quiet at the Friends Meeting House, Mont St. Michel and now the Cathedral of St. Louis on Jackson Square. In the cathedral I came across a woman sitting in a pew, head in hands, “Katrina Relief” hovering as her group tag above her head. Habitat for Humanity/Katrina Relief boxes dot the landscape. Colleen and I hoped that Mardi Gras celebrations here would benefit Katrina victims in the way Second Life Relay for Life does so successfully. The University of New Orleans in rl has stated that, in case of another disruptive hurricane, they intend to host classes in-world http://www.eschoolnews.com/news/showStory.cfm?ArticleID=7171%20. We spent a bit of time thinking about Katrina and then wandered around the place, wishing we could find the Napolean House or Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop (bar). We rounded the corner and there it was! Lafitte’s! Albeit a prim coated version of the crumpled vision on Bourbon Street but still – a place we recognized and loved. We were so excited we celebrated by drinking rum and cokes and smoking ciggies and cigars at the same time.

We had an interesting chat about the men we’ve met online who, though never purporting to be anything else, surprised us when their rl was revealed. I found out my first mate in-world was a 55 year old math teacher from Georgia, newly divorced. He sent me a link to his myspace page, which showed him shirtless holding weights or grinning with his teenaged sons, the page filled with comments from buxom 55 year old blondes…As nice as he was, not my scene. In fact, just the kind of thing that should send me scampering away from this kind of online interaction altogether, if it weren’t for the possibility of escape to places like Caledon, a sim dedicated to 19th century living, where I spend most of my time.

It’s funny meeting people in-world. Some folks are revealing, like the math teacher, and others clam up the moment you ask anything remotely related to rl. I’ve got a lovely new acquaintance that I enjoy spending time with, and, though she’s shown me her rl blog, she never talks rl when in-world. I suppose a good lesson for me, who reveals all readily, in my Italian way, to whoever makes the mistake of pausing next to me for too long…