Putting my foot down

It’s official, I have to put my foot down.

NO MORE GRID-WIDE HUNTS.

I don’t want to hunt in any more, I don’t want to partake as a business in any more. It’s getting–no. It’s gotten ridiculously out of hand. I swear to god I’m going to make a t-shirt that says “PRAD WAS RIGHT”.

Stopping the madness has to begin somewhere. I’m starting with the elf in the mirror, to paraphrase the Michael Jackson song.

Reclaiming the term “Role Playing”

If you’ve read my blog for any length of time, you’ve probably picked up on my views on Gor. If not, here’s the abridged version: I don’t like it.

But the most twisted, sadistic slaver in Gor looks like a kindergarten teacher in comparison to what Michael Berk of Brownfield, Maine, considers role-playing.

“I’m looking for role-playing. I’m looking for fantasy,” Berk testified about his online interaction with a man from Biddeford, who called police on Aug. 28 after Berk allegedly offered to rent his 12-year-old daughter for sex acts. –Portland (Maine) Press Herald, May 28

In a nutshell, this asshole (I’m not going to repeat his name because I don’t consider it worth remembering) met a man looking for work on Craigslist. They got to emailing one another (the middle part gets kind of hazy; some sources say it was to talk about partner-swapping, others say it was strictly business) and the fact that the man looking for work has four kids came up.

Asshole then mentions to the man the idea of paying him $350 a week for up to 3 “visits” with the man’s twelve-year-old daughter. The man, not surprisingly, calls police. The police set up a sting; an officer meets Asshole over coffee here in the town where I live, the offer is reiterated, the Asshole gets arrested.

The arrest happened in September; not long afterwards a woman who had also met Asshole on Craigslist came forward to say that he tried to make the same offer for her daughter. In her case, she’d posted an ad looking for housing. In a chilling testimony, Asshole says that his “standard operating procedure” was to look for ads on Craigslist that featured people who were down on their luck, and had underage daughters.

In other words, Asshole is a predator.

And as though it weren’t sick enough that he is, he honestly believes he does nothing wrong; that the whole offer of solicitation isn’t real and literal because he’s simply RPing with other adults.

There are lots of sites on the Internet for role-playing. Second Life, of course. World of Warcraft. Not fucking Craigslist, you depraved freak. Also, when only one of the parties involved (that being you) knows that it’s RPing? There’s a different word for that. It’s called lying. Not that I believe your cock-and-bull story anyway.

So, as twisted and messed-up as I find Gor, at very least it’s carried out in a strictly virtual medium in SL-land.

I guess I’m just oldschool. Role-playing used to mean, simply, play-acting. Pretending you were a character, you know, like back in the days of dice-and-paper gaming (I shouldn’t say “back in the days”; such media are very much alive and well now), keeping it very separate from the real you the rest of the time. But somehow it’s come to mean something different. Combat with meters, to some people. Acting out strictly sexual fantasies, to others. To some folks, RPing has become synonymous with debauchery and depravity, and it isn’t that (it can be, but surely it isn’t limited to that). I wish there were a way to take the phrase back, to use it as it was originally meant.

Meanwhile, Asshole will be playing the role of prison bride for at least 10 years. Tell Bubba you’re just RPing, jack.

Alts: a new challenge

“Pretend we’re starting off in life, rather than ending up in it.” –’Daniel Christie’ (Robert Prosky), Far and Away, 1992, Imagine

No, my having alts (plural) is nothing new. But this one is different.

With all my previous alts, they’ve all pretty much gotten by through my (by which I mean my main’s) help. Get them into NF, so they can join the group and set Home there. Go where I go, do what I do (pretty much) and what’s mine is theirs in terms of money.

But not this one.

My Side Project: Vintage City Inc.

I know, you are probably thinking, “Side project? What the hell side has she got LEFT?!” I know I think it sometimes…

Building, for me, is a fun way to unwind. A bit like sitting with a sketchbook and just letting the ideas flow and see what happens. Well, my sister Clover and I have been building things for pre-1960s urban development, be it big things like buildings, or small things like park benches. Slowly our collection of goods is growing enough that we may soon have enough to resell.

Right now, the only place you can get Vintage City goods is from our vend-o-matic up in the shopping district near Hotlanta Blues, and they aren’t many. YET. Because this is both Clo’s and my on-the-side-just-for-fun project, I’m not going to begin to speculate as to when we’ll have more or what we’ll have next.

Actually, what we’ll have next is fairly certain. Tonight I started construction on a news stand, frozen in time on the morning of June 6, 1944. D-Day. I’ve been combing the intertubes for period magazine covers, newspapers, cigarette packs, and candy wrappers. This will be the single best-researched WWII newsstand… that I know of. LOL I won’t promise further until I know more what’s out there. Other future ideas for projects include (but are not limited to) a movie house, call-boxes, a corner shop, steaming “film noir” type manhole covers, movie posters, shop signage, and who knows what else. Like in my clothing business, I intend to do my homework and really get things as authentic and documented as possible, so that builders can have confidence that their city is that much more authentic.

Also, once the two of us have enough goods to really take it seriously, we’ll at least put our goods on XStreet, including affiliate vendors so others can rent shop space and resell the items (her latest addition, by the way, is this ice cream cart, which is also available by way of her own shop). We will probably not end up having a “main shop” location; some business in the real world exist only in cyberspace, and that’s probably how VCI will be.

Pics from Today’s Concert

Today our fairegrounds were graced by the presence of Atheene Dodonpa, who performed songs from the Roma for an appreciative crowd. Pictures follow (click to see larger).

I’m overdue.

For posting, and for a lot of other stuff. I’m overdue for altering a garment to help out a customer who asked a few days ago (no I haven’t forgotten!), I’m overdue for switching all the vendors at the shop over to the new 2.5 that Hippo has put out, I’m overdue for organizing the shop the way I want and getting out the products that are collecting dust in my inventory. I’m overdue for recording at VERY least a demo CD for our band. I’m sure there’s lots of other stuff too and I can’t even think of it right now.

That’s not to say I haven’t been productive. I have. Between clear-the-air conversations (themselves having been overdue), building new stuff, rearranging and consolodating prims, and the ongoing Deputy duties that I’ve taken upon myself, I have been busy busy busy. We had a gig yesterday at a new venue, and it was great, very good crowd.

But just to make it even more interesting, I’ve finally managed to get a RL job. Nothing much, just part time and $8/hr, but it’s a source of income and I’ve not been gainfully employed in about 8 years now so this is a good thing. What’s awful is that it’s got me wondering if it’s enough for me to be able to sustain the sim. Yes, to put the rumors to bed, there is talk of the sim changing hands to mine. However it’s not going to happen unless & until I can afford to maintain it on my own, and right now that’s not even in the realm of possibility. So for now it’s staying put where it is.

Incidentally I just ran some numbers. Definitely still impossible. Rents really barely make a dent in the monthly tier fee.

So, I don’t know, maybe in time for the faire in August we’ll see if it’s more possible for it to be sustainable at my end. I feel bad, really, I wish I could take it off his hands tomorrow. It’s pretty evident that the boss is burning out hard here. I try to help, I try to take on as much responsibility as I’m able/allowed and also do all I can to make it vibrant; so that not only do people want to rent and stay here, but also so that just maybe he can love it again.

Had a good talk with Is yesterday actually. She wishes she could afford to buy a proper quarter sim or so for Hotlanta. It would give Hotlanta the setting/traffic it needs and it would be able to flourish and expand without it being at the expense of Northfarthing’s prims, scripts, people, etc. But it’s a catch-22; they’re not making enough where they are to be able to move to where they can make enough.

Guys, if you go to Hotlanta, do me a favor and go out of your way to tip Is. She is there day after day after day, never takes a day off, picking up slack for hosts, pushing events, trying to keep people in line, and doing so at the expense of her own business that she wants to run. She barely sees a dime from the house tipjar, so please, help her out you guys. Neither she nor I ever wanted for SL to become an unpaid job.

But speaking of day off, today is mine. Talk about things that are overdue! If you break it, fix it yourself. If you leave it, pick it up. If someone gives you grief, Constable Tel has all kinds of fun ways to deal with it. Otherwise, have a happy Sunday.

Why people who fake deaths suck

Just about anyone who plays Tiny Empires recognizes the name Julie Apocalypse, especially those who have the Federation expansion. She was the first to win 10 jousting tournaments, and for a long time held the all-time record of 28 wins. That record is currently tied; I know not by whom.

Well word reached the Empire yesterday that Julie passed away. In light of a recent likely online death hoax, it wouldn’t be difficult to doubt the veracity of this one. So just to quiet those nagging voices of skepticism in my head, I did a quick bit of research. My conclusion is that this one is very likely the real thing.

It lacks the “formula” of a faked death. There’s no crying out for attention in a blog; hell, as far as I can see, she didn’t even have a blog. There certainly was no mysterious spokesperson saying “This isn’t one of the mind games she was known for…”, a red flag in itself. The closest thing to any attention drawn to her failing health in any way that I was able to find was a post in a group blog last February, where a poster asks the community to send good thoughts in her direction, because she has been ill and is undergoing surgery. Simple, straightforward, stated fact, and little else.

The thing that irks me most about people who do fake deaths–or for that matter other tragedies, be they miscarriages or attacks on a pet or what have you–is that they make it hard to trust the next one. It’s good to have a healthy amount of skepticism. Skepticism by definition, however, doesn’t mean simply doubting the truth of anything that meets one’s attention; it means not knowing whether to believe something until one has more evidence.

And according to what evidence I was able to glean, the person we know in SL as Julie Apocalypse really has passed away, probably after a longtime illness that she didn’t like to talk about much. I never met her; only–like many of us–heard her name in Tiny Empires circles. Still, it’s sad when people get sick and suffer, and sad when they die. And very sad when people who lie to get ego strokes cause us to wonder if it’s the truth when people really do leave us.

Mysteriously Beautiful, Physically Painful

Life has these moments of Mysterious Beauty scattered throughout it; moments we rarely can predict and sometimes don’t recognize when they occur. But make no mistake, they make life worth living, even when they hit with such a ferocity as to bring tears to the eyes and a sting to the heart.

Such a moment came for me when I found that a certain someone was worthy of loving. Don’t misunderstand me; don’t think that this love comes at the expense of the man to whom I’ve given the core of my heart. I could never un-love him, or lose love for him, even were I to try. And why I would want to try is beyond me. (In fact, he has told me that he wants me to experience all the moments of Mysterious Beauty life has to offer me, including this feeling for another, and that to deny me would be an act of selfishness, not of love.)

I am an incredibly picky individual. Especially where personal matters are concerned. I hold people to an astoundingly high standard, almost as high as that to which I hold myself, and that especially goes for my judgment of character. I believe that one’s character and integrity are the most important aspects of a person; that if I can’t respect an individual I can scarce tolerate them. And so, with such a high standard, it’s rare and Mysterious indeed to find someone worthy of not just respecting, not just tolerating, not just liking, but having love for. Even in spite of vast differences in beliefs, his character shines through in such a way that it can’t be ignored.

But, as a friend says in her profile, sometimes the one you fall for isn’t ready to catch you.

I believe he has great respect for me, and genuinely likes me, but that tears-in-the-eyes sting-in-the-heart Mysterious Beautiful feeling isn’t reciprocated. I know it isn’t, I have always known. True, some part of me long hoped that it was and that it just hadn’t been discovered yet; but I can see with unobstructed eyes well enough to know that, no, it just isn’t there. And you can’t force it to be there.

At the same time, however, you also can’t make yourself un-feel what you do feel. Therein lies the true sting and the source of the tears. The best one can do in such a situation is to conduct one’s self with dignity and grace, to stand tall on one’s own and try not to let the sting be too crippling or the tears be too visible. And, painful though it may be, to turn and step away. Not necessarily cutting out altogether; but quieting that part of you that wishes it could be otherwise.

Knowing that that’s the right thing to do is painful enough to feel physically. But even that pain is a bit of the Mysterious Beauty; knowing that something, someone can have that much of an effect on you. And I am healing, slowly, and most days I’m all right. Still, though, every once in a while, something happens to pick at that scabbed-over wound and start it bleeding afresh. And today, at the risk of sounding gothy-goth, I’m bleeding inside.

I’m at that frustrating stage between wanting to feel that Mysterious Beauty that I know is false, and wanting to not feel anything so I don’t hurt. And not just to avert pain, but because it’s the right thing to do. But it is a sad thing to have to put a lid on something so beautiful as this feeling, and hide it away.

Funny IM convo (posted with permission)

[17:58] Teleny Macarthur: oh, fuck it
[17:58] Teleny Macarthur: rofl
[17:58] Mistletoe Ethaniel: consider it fucked
[17:58] Mistletoe Ethaniel: so let it be written, so let it be fucked.
[17:58] Teleny Macarthur: well, if THAT’S alll it takes
[17:59] Teleny Macarthur: telenytelenytelenyteleny
[17:59] Mistletoe Ethaniel: LMAO
[17:59] Teleny Macarthur: teehee

Cat Agus Cu LIVE Today, 4PM SLT

Come join us for a slightly later than usual show today at the Green Dragon Inn in our beautiful hometown of Northfarthing. Cat Agus Cu–me and my RL hubby Archimides Skytower–will play an hour of Irish and Scottish traditional music, some jigs and reels, drinking songs, and some cry-in-your-ale ballads, and maybe some surprises as well. Bring your friends and we’ll see you at 4PM SLT (7PM Eastern, Midnight GMT) at the Dragon!

About the venue: Northfarthing is a non-Gorean medieval(ish) sim. Period garb is not required, but appropriate covering is. Dance machines, poseballs, and limited seats are available.