I Disabled my Twitter for 7 Days

…and decided that 7 is just not long enough.

These days, logging onto Twitter is an anxiety attack. People posting about atrocities. Video automatically playing about said atrocities. Everybody and their grandma needing to weigh in and retweet the atrocities. Hit, after hit, after hit, of horrible things happening in the world today; and a culture of “If you don’t absolutely 100% cosign everything I say here and if you don’t get REALLY OUTRAGED ALL THE TIME, you’re not worthy.”

The best word I can use to describe it is “despair.”

I log onto Twitter, and I despair. Of course I do. I’m an elven being who cares about the world and I want to know what’s happening in it. I see and hear awful things, thrown in my face at the speed of thought. And much of it isn’t even from real people anymore, but from Troll Farmers or else bots fighting to foment chaos and sow discord.

I don’t need to know THAT much about the world around me. I don’t need to hear every single opinion from every single person on it. I don’t even need to weigh in myself.

Oh, and by the way, did I mention the Nazis? Jeez louise.

It could be argued that I’m coming from a place of extreme privilege to be able to shut of my Twitter. That implies that I’m shutting off caring about current events. I’m not stopping caring. I’m not stopping learning. But I am stopping this… this… poison. And I might also argue that having the time to spend on Twitter, and access to electronics to read Twitter, may themselves be a bit of a privilege.

What good am I doing to myself, to my loved ones, to my community, if I’ve numbed by constant anxiety and despair? None. Zero.

So, I unplug. I challenge you to try it for a week yourself and see if you too notice a difference.

The Sky is Falling (again)!

There’s a thing that might come that could DESTROY SECOND LIFE FOREVER AND I HAVE NO CONFIDENCE IN MY STUFF EVER LASTING AND OMG WHAT ARE WE GOING TO DO IF THIS BECOMES OBSOLETE?!

In other words, the same thing that was said a hundred times before in Second Life.

So, Linden Lab is working on a new virtual world and most of the buzz I hear calls it SL 2.0 and of course that means THE END IS NEAR!!! for the Second Life that we all know and love (to hate).

There are so many things that can happen between now and then that I think it’s just ridiculous to panic about it. And just ask my husband, I’m really good at panicking about uncertainty in the future. I dreamed up some of the most colorful nightmare scenarios you’ll ever hear just before we packed up and moved across the country last April. And I’ll say what he said: if you have a nightmare scenario, it’s good to talk about it and get it out in the open, because it helps you see just how unlikely it really is when you hear it out loud.Do you really, sincerely, think, that the virtual world that’s been operating for 11 years now, is just going to close up unannounced in a few months and leave you without your land, your money, or your stuff? I don’t.

It’s likely that things will change. It’s likely that some things will become obsolete, or that some things that already are obsolete will be replaced. But the sky is not falling, any more than it did with mesh, or alpha layers, or merging with the Teen Grid, or Zindra. It’s foolish to not enjoy what you have today, out of fear that you might not have it tomorrow. In fact in my opinion it’s all the more reason to enjoy it today.

One Elf Sitting it Out

New rule: if you’re going to call your movement a “million” or “billion” anything, you should have at least a hundred thousand people on board.

Yes it’s that time of year again, and once again I’m taking the unpopular stance that no, I will not be participating in One Billion Rising in Second Life. It’s not that I think it shouldn’t exist. People can and should do whatever they want to, and if they want to feel like they’re doing something about domestic violence and sexual assault, then very well, have at it and dance the night away my friends.

As I said last year, I appreciate the spirit in which it is meant. Speaking as a survivor, I’m glad to know people give a shit about this. For me, personally, it kind of reminds me of prayer. Yeah, you do a thing, yeah, you feel good about it, but all too often people think that this gesture is all that one has to do to actually make an impact. Back before my dad found Jesus he had a colorful phrase about praying in one hand and defecating in the other. I got nothing against people praying. I got an issue with thinking that it’s all one must do, is all.

This is all very much on the forefront of my mind lately as someone close to me is dealing with a RL problem with a former abuser, who lives halfway across the country, and their child. I think about what she’d think if she saw all these avatars dancing. Then I shake my head and get back to work, trying to help her find the legal help she needs.

By all means, dance. I’m just asking that you let the awareness raised propel you into action when you’re done.

PS: I don’t want to hear a single comment begin with “I’m so sorry”, either for me, or for her. I find that even less useful.

I don’t contribute to the economy?!

I was talking with a particularly cynical acquaintance the other day who had some less-than-kind things to say to me when I mentioned going to Marketplace-only with Clover’s Kitchen, and no longer having a prim-and-mortar shop in his estate. Two particularly stinging things he said were that I’m “part of the problem” for going to MP only, and that by not having a prim-and-mortar shop, I’m no longer contributing to the economy.

I often wonder…

I often wonder if people who play pretendy-slave-time are ever members of a race descended from hundreds of years of REAL slave-time.

I often wonder if people who play pretendy-slave-time were ever in abusive relationships, or know someone who’s been in an abusive relationship, and how they reconcile that with pretendy-slave-time. And don’t misunderstand me, I don’t mean BDSM. Even though that’s not my cup of tea I can at least respect it, especially when it embraces the mantra of “safe, sane, consensual”. Pretendy-slave-time strikes me as less than sane and often less than consensual.

I often wonder if people who play pretendy-slave-time would be OK with their kids playing pretendy-slave-time. Or if they consider that over 100,000 kids in this country are bought and sold into REAL slave-time per year, or if that really matters to them at all because after all it’s just pretendy time to them.

I often wonder why people who play pretendy-slave-time think that their pretendy-slave-time is art. Okay, maybe not often, but I sure wondered it today. But rather than wonder these things out loud, I just brought it back over here to my pretendy-blog-time. P.S., I’m no longer in Second Life Arts on Google+.

…And all I got was this lousy t-shirt.

The good (and otherwise) folks of New Citizens International need not trouble themselves with my ban, as Chamonix will melt down to a pond before I choose to return.

I was invited today by one of the senior mentors to present my scale model to someone whose work I’ve long admired. I’d been getting quite hero-worshippy at the thought. So today the day came and I asked, “Should I just show it here, where it’s rezzed already?” Oh, no, my friend said, bring it on over and show it off here, it’ll be great!

So as I’m making a presentation, one young person decided to– oh how shall I say– engage me in a battle of wits. Or, as I prefer to call it, bring a knife to a gunfight. Well, I fired a couple shots across the bow. Shots so wounding as “Why are you being a grouchypants?” and “I just kind of feel sorry for him [the guy], really.”

I KNOW RIGHT?! You had no idea I was such a raging bitch.

And I was banned for this (and no, not by the person who invited me). AND RIGHTLY SO! Save the grid from viscious lunatics like Grouchy Old Elf.

I knew I shoulda showed at my own skybox.

“You had plenty of time to do that already.”

“You had plenty of time to do that already.”
Oh fuck you. And your privilege.

First thing first, I want to thank JubJub, who yesterday offered a solution so ridiculously simple that it embarrasses me. I just happened to have a friend visiting, she just happens to have the new viewer, she just happened to let me log on her computer and I just need to get shit switched over from the Marketplace via my browser now. So, to JubJub, and to my friend Maeva, thank you, both. You may have saved Clover’s Kitchen.

Second of all, I’d like to exctend my warmest middle finger to those who decided that this was the appropriate time to rub my face in the fact that outdated equipment is all I can afford. Thanks. Really.

I’m not asking for a god damn pity party or anything, I just wish people could get that I am poor. I don’t mean only buy new clothes at Walmart poor, I don’t even mean buy clothes at Goodwill poor; I mean, there’s no fucking buying clothes because we can’t fucking afford such a luxury poor. I mean, packing lunch because I can’t afford to buy it at an employee discount at work poor. I mean rolling up coins for gas money just so I can commute poor. I mean thermostat at 58 poor. I mean seriously fuck you for guilt-tripping me about it poor.

“So if you’re so poor how come you have a laptop?” Because, genius, I bought it in 2008, when we were somewhat near approaching middle class and my husband didn’t yet lose his job and we didn’t yet get reamed up the ass with a crowbar for tax debt. Not that I need to defend myself to your comfortable asses.

I’ve tried to keep up appearances, to suffer in silence and not complain because I know and I know WELL that there are people who have it fucktons worse than I do. But I’m tired. I’m beaten down by poverty and winter and being in East Cowfuck with no apparent end in sight.

So, guy, no, I’m not going to get a new computer. I’m not going to get a new disk drive for the one I’ve got. I’m not going to get an external disk drive. Those of you who are trying to find me solutions, thank you, sincerely, but I can’t afford to spend anymore money. I will run this thing on Imprudence until it’s bare nuts and bolts, and then, I can’t say. I can’t afford to do otherwise.

I can’t. Fucking. Afford. It.

So did you hear the one…

…about the elf stuck in Imprudence? It goes a little something like this.

I have OSX 10.5. For those of you who don’t speak Mac, think of it like running an older operating system like Vista (only mostly functional). In order for the latest MANDATORY UPDATE ERMAGERD SL viewer to work, I need 10.6 (which is, what, like needing Windows 7 or something. I’m trying here, you guys).

In order to get Firestorm to run, I need 10.6.

In fact, in order to get any type of viewer that will show me mesh, you guessed it, 10.6.

Oh, I know what you’re thinking. What about that one (can’t think of the name) that has a Version 1 interface, like Imprudence, and yet has mesh enabled?

Ten. Point. Fucking. Six.

So I’ve been SLing on the only viewer that works for me anymore: Imprudence. Imprudence doesn’t have mesh, doesn’t have prims over 10m, doesn’t have multiple attachments, doesn’t have a Merchant Out Box, but got damn it, it’s the only thing that gets me in world anymore.

Well I try (unsuccessfully) to be one who solves problems rather than bitch about them, so I ordered the upgrade software to 10.6 (or Snow Leopard, as the big kids call it). It arrived Monday (yesterday). I made three attempts to install it when at last I had to call up Apple Support.

Long story not quite as long, the problem appears to be the DVD drive. As it is an older machine, it may be that the lens needs cleaning, the nice lady tells me; she says to get a cleaning kit for it and if that doesn’t work, here’s a ticket number.

Have I ever mentioned that I’m in Boogers, Maine, population 1000 people and 5000 cows? The nearest place to find one such kit turns out to be about 45 minutes drive one-way from here. To afford it, we rolled up change. I’m not fucking exaggerating here, except perhaps the number of people. It may in fact be lower.

So… I go, I get the thing, I come back. Run the cleaner kit.

NOPE. Doesn’t make any bit of difference.

So it looks to be a hardware situation with the disk drive. By this point I’m just starting to think either a few things. Either it’s been a fun five years but time to hang it up, or, it’s time to just get a new fucking computer.

I’d REALLY prefer option B. Option A, while more affordable, is much less enjoyable. Between now and one or the other, Imprudence it is. Not like I was teaching myself mesh modeling or wanting to upload anything to Marketplace anyway (grumble grumble).

Reply to a reply

I got a reply to a comment on Whiskey’s post, in which the commenter feels sorry for my experiences (I mention that I’m a survivor both of domestic abuse and of sexual assault) and she hopes that I can one day come to find joy in dancing again.

Wut?

Whiskey very wisely disabled comments on that post so I can’t reply there. And since I can’t Shut My Elfy Yap and let shit go…

Look, I appreciate the spirit in which your comment is meant, as much as I appreciate the spirit in which OBR is meant, but neither is what I need.

I DO feel joy about dancing. Time and place, is all. And, gah, please don’t feel sorry for me. I live my life day to day just like anyone else does, worrying about things like bills and taxes and the road conditions on the commute and if we’re out of milk or bread. I’m in a happy household with a loving partner and smart cat, I have nieces and nephews and joy and love and creative projects and hobbies and I do NOT want nor need pity. Please do not assume that just because I am not on board with this project, that it must mean that I’m too walking-wounded to want to play. I’m a survivor, not a victim.

As a matter of fact (no but srsly tho, Mist shut it), the assumptions made in the comment kind of piss me off. Don’t slap a ribbon on me. Go and provide the things I needed when I did need them: a place to go when my mother wanted to get out, a place to watch us kids while she tried to make arrangements and earn a paycheck. Money for that flight or bus ticket out of reach of her abuser. Someone to teach teenage me that no means no and it’s not up to me to say no in the right way or right number of ways for it to finally be heard. Someone to believe me when I said his advances weren’t welcome and I never want to see this person again. Someone to still be my friend and not automatically take his side and say I must have encouraged him somehow. Fuck dancing, fuck gooshy words. Go do that.

Please.

This is what I get for getting a computer that lasts.

I go to log in tonight so I can take pictures of my cool scale model I built and me being all Elfzilla on it, but no! SL has other plans! Mandatory required gotta do it or you can’t play upgrade!

So having been burnt already by Firestorm (see what I did there?) I went to check the system requirements. And oh will you look at that, I have to have OS X 10.6 or higher. I have a model 2009 MacBook that runs 10.5.8. Well fuck me sideways.

So, no scale model picture fun for you tonight.

My 10.6.1 upgrade disk is on its way and is expected to arrive on the 22nd.

Meanwhile I guess I’ll log on Imprudence to pay my rent as needed. Can’t wait to see what mesh doesn’t look like.

God dammit, SL. It’s like you want me to fail.