2nd Sex

Moonson's History (Fiction, for those who don't know it)

2009-11-09T05:13:00.000-08:00

While discovered in the 19th century, and first excavated in the early 20th, the civilization that grew up between India and the Middle East was a cipher to history. It left no monumental architecture, and little text on stone or clay. Indeed, there was more than a little argument over the nature of the script, and the possibility that it was a proto-literate, or pre-historical ideographic system rather than a developed syllabary or other form of writing. This changed with the discovery in the far north of a cache of papyrus scrolls, which are now known as Rupar I, for the site there were located near. As importantly, at Rupar II, an interlingual was found, allowing the first reasonable decipherment of the later script. This interlingual was, at first, confusing, since it seemed to have the Indus script twice, and a later script which, while an obscure variation of old Chinese seal script, was readable. It was only at this point that the first of many mysteries became revealed: the script had encoded many different languages, and the interlingual was the key between an Indo-European tongue, closely allied with Sanskrit, and another, which was a language isolate, though somewhat connected with older Dravidian languages, and perhaps Sumerian.

For twenty years Rupar I and Rupar II were hidden from the scholarly community, as explained by Rao and Himmelberg, because of the politics of the discovery, which can be left aside for the present commentary...

The Rupar Texts and Their Significance Wei Huang Li, Journal of Mathematical Linguistics, April 2041, Vol 9, No. 8 pg. 897

The Banner of The White Tiger

a

There is something new under the sun. That sun which streams now through the portal to the courtyard, the hear leaves of ivy tied with bits of twine to a trellis, the shapes decorating the edges of the shadow on the floor. The shutter swings slightly back and forth in the cooling breeze that is the distant touch of the season of storms, which the people to the east call, the Monsoon.

I was born in the same place of the sun, with that same breath of cool dryness retreating from warm wetness, where the touch of the air was arid, and the weight of the air held a smell like clothes left damp in the corner. I was called 6th moon daughter on my birth, and so they left me with the nurse, a woman who had had so many children of her own that she numbered them. It was not until I was five that I was given even a use name, so much like a clay pot on a shelf is a young daughter who may or may not be beautiful or useful.

So when the time came for me to have something more useful than 9th Moon, my father began calling me after that name, Monsoon. It was a word with a foreign sound, and as a merchant of Deslapur, he knew that people of that moment had a mania for all things foreign, just as they had a mania for the very soft beyond soft wool that came floating down the river in flat bottomed barges, moved by pole or oar, or simple sail, and which was spun into cloth as fine as gold. As a man of means, he had the luxury of naming his children, and only selling them in marriage when they would fetch a good price.

I suppose I should set more of my tale. The name he gave me then clings to me only in the darker nights an corners of my life, when passion overtakes me or my lover, or when I think back to those days of weaving and learning to trace the symbols that showed what was in a jar, or was bound up in a sack. The stick figures that chase each other, and were then the signs of wealth and trade.

Trade, my father's favorite word. Everything was trade. From a sweet lump of honey, to the task of the day, to moments of his affection, everything was in trade. So he set me to taking stylus and tracing lines in clay, which was then fired, to show what had been packed. The other merchant's scribe would do the same, and the two were placed together. I would read the scribe's, always "his," manifest, and he would read mine.

Those running figures, well they would be more valuable than almost any trade I would make with anyone, and certainly with him.

So here I sit, in a warmed stone room, a beige sandstone, and I am dragging a feather sharpened with a bronze knife to a point. In the shaft of the feather, there is a dark rich black fluid, that is ink. As you read this, remember, that ink is the blood of civilization, it flows, it bleeds, it dries. Its formation is life, and where it grows, it is life.

I have written now more words than many people will read in a day, and by the end of this manuscript, I will have written more words than many people will read in a life time. You will have read more than most people will ever know, or have known since the beginning of beginnings, which, even now, stretch back farther than anyone can know or remember.

This is new under the sun. Before memory was in the mouth, with rhapsodes reciting, and reciting, and filling in where their minds failed, with wit and skill weaving a tapestry before the ears of the audience. I know these rhapsodes, because here, where is here? A yes, another thing that is new under the sun, we call it Chancery House, and in it all that is to be done is written, all that has been done is recorded. We few in our hands copy out the rules, writs, and laws, words I know that may be new to you in the form we mean them here, and by doing so, set on inexpensive papyrus, they are carried out by horse and runner to the edges and bones of this, our empire.

Empire! Heavens what a word it is, so foreign in the mouth that we must spell it out rather than using compact signs. It is a foreign idea, a foreign word, and it was foreign to us when I first walked the warmed earth as a child. We heard of empire only as stories from traders from the west, or traders from the east. Shorter folk, but fatter folk, who gleamed with scented oils and glowed with tied beards.

But so it is, our empire. And you, because you are reading this, are advanced far in the service of that empire. You know my name, you have probably heard it, but that of course, is not the name I sign this with, because I write this as the hand of the goddess, who is moved by the will of the Sun God, Ramathan. More on this in its due course.

So realize, as you attempt to add flourishes and touches to the speech you set down, that it will be sealed into a bone, or stripped around a Sumer stick. Then it will be carried. It will be received by some official, who will in turn carry it to the person it is intended for. That man may be drunk, tired, or just having finished exerting himself with his wife, his boy servant, or his goat. In this condition he will go to the Chancery of the village, town or city, and the writing will be handed to a reader. She, almost always she, will be your sister, and she will read what you have written, though, of course, she may be tempted to improve what you write.

Have pity on her, because she is not your equal. If she were, she would be here. Have pity on her also, because she will have to explain what is written to the annoyed official, and he will be annoyed, and this man whose knowledge of signs goes no farther than where to shit, who is still sweating with lust and is afraid in his bowels that this means his death, for how often is he called? And for what? To almost no good purpose. You do not scribe joyous news often.

If you are here, in this place, you have also spent some time fucking with the priests, and perhaps whiling away pleasant time with your sisters in passionate embraces. Do not ever scribe in this state, because, even if carried to the remotest land of Sutakegn, she will smell it on your papyrus, that scent on our fingers from intimate touch of a man or woman. She will know, and will regard you badly. Her eyes will peer through the parchment at you. She does not have your face, and will be jealous of your scented baths, and soft linen robes, and worked leather sandals, and tied locks of hair, and adornments of the flesh.

It is not wise to place your life in the hands of such a sister.

Have pity her and develop your hand carefully, and embellish not for the sake of it. Only write such things to others who will appreciate them, and the moment of their reading. Everything you write for others, is fiction, and it is also true. If you write that it is decreed that such a man must die, then he must die. If you write that Third Plow Tiller owes a dram of silver for 10 drams of tea, then he does. Everything you write for this inner place, among us, is fact, it is also false, because it must never leave this place, as certain secrets must be clenched in your thighs, or a touch of amber is held by an old woman as she dies.

So sister, having spent time evolving to the state where you can not merely scribe, but write, and not merely recite, but read, these pages gift you a thing that you have not seen outside of this house.

A book.

What is this book about? It is about what I know and saw, it is of the founding, and of the Chaos Wars, and of the men, and women, and gendery, who made it so. It is of people who have no names to the public mob, but who are more precious than the yellow saffron spice. In the Theogony, you will learn about the birth of gods and goddesses, and when they come, and what hours are appointed to them. But here you will learn of the birth of cities, and how this place came to be.

I look out now, and the sun has fallen to kiss the mountains over the slow wide river that is south of the holy city. Mehragrah, may your name be remembered. And if not, remembered, felt as a soft rustle on the tips of fingers of scribes until the moon eats the sun, and we all return to the shapes of animals in the darkness.

Remember, your sister Monsoon loves you, and from this love she gives you this book, the book. The forbidden book of the garden.

b

From the vast vault of night, from his throne behind the moon came Ravidarin, the messenger of Ramathon. He slipped silently over the gates and came down to the hall with the vast hearth. Seated around it were the kings of men. He bore a box, and in the box was the voice of Ramathon. When he entered, he was seen, cloaked in silver. All fell in awe and were silent.

Wordlessly Ravidarin opened the box, and boomed the voice of the God of Gods. The voice was heard to say: "In the city of the Harakine, they have fallen from the ways, and fallen from the sky like a punished star. I bless you now. On my rising, in the fields, go take the staff that the moon's lord, my messenger, gives you.

And Janmathsani took hold of the staff, still in Ravidarin's hands, and grasped it. And the light flooded over him, and he wrested the staff from the grip of the Moon's god. On its cap were the horns of the ram. And they all bowed before it, and Janamthsani became annointed king. They drank and ate that night, and sacrificed a virgin ewe. They slept, and in the morning marched out to the field before the Great City, Harakine.

Up was set the ram's horn's standard. Up was flew the bright red cloth, soaked in berries and bright to the eye. There might grew the warriors of the God of Gods, Sun of Suns. There shown the polished light of their glittered shields. Row upon row, rank upon rank, day upon day. Behind the walls of cold stone the defenders shook. They were very afraid, at the sound of the roar of the horns, and the bleat of the drums, and the whistle of the flutes like arrows. And they shook in terror. Then the great God, the God of Gods, Sun of Suns, spoked. The air reverberated with his warmth. Lo his warriors charged, and all was cleansed of the city that was unclean, and all the darkness illuminated.

As I said before, all you scribe is fiction, and all you scribe is true. This is the truth, because it is set down, and read through out the land where ever, and when ever, people are gathered to celebrate the Great God Ramathon. Except that is not the way it happened. We did not worship Ramathon, or any likeness of him. The ram's horn standard came later. And if you think that the great city fell to a charge of might warriors once, then you do not know war. I hope you do not know war.

We didn't either, not until that time. We got to the very walls of the city, and still did not know war. How then did we get there? Why was I with the army? Because it was not an army, and it was not, until that day, a war. And it is a good deal farther than a morning's march from the city that the story speaks of. You know it as Rajatharin, the King's Stand. It was not known as that, because at that time it did not have a king, did not want a king, and wouldn't have thought to anoint one. As for the celebration? We did not sacrifice a virgin ewe. Maybe virginities were sacrificed, but the only things unsheathed were firmly attached to pelvises. There are more things wrong than this, but too many to simply list.

Instead let me tell the tail as best that I can. First I must write of the lay of the lands. At that time in the south, was the island bounded by the Run of Kutch, and the broad bay of Hakra. The two arms embraced three cities: Deslapur, Surkatoda, and on a small island off the coast, set deep in the bay, Dholayaira. The city you know as Rajasthra, the King's Stand, was then called Kaliban, and it was far up the river. My father had been elected to negotiate a treaty, not of war, but of trade. There were dozens of small issues, the most important being the wool of that region being barred from being spun or woven by our laws, and they, in retaliation, would not allow wrought metal goods beyond their city at the point of where the river Harkra breaks up into many rivers. There were excuses on both sides, about this and that. But the reality was that this was a negotiation over power.

My father also had secret instructions, which I would only know of later. It weighed heavily on his mind. Our journey took the third moon of that year, slowed by the rapid flow of waters from the far north's melting snows. I remember eating little and feeling ill, and spending the days under the tent in the middle of the boat, spending hours practicing my hand on a slate with chalk, spinning, and embroidering. The men working the oars smiled at me constantly, until my father's glare made them start to look away. My clothing was modest in the extreme this time, because the strengthening sun was harsh on my skin.

After this slow progress, looking out over lands, both tilled and fallow, wild and tamed, we saw in the distance a low hill, and populated on it clumps of low buildings, loosely scattered like a child's blocks. Before the city was a bridge, whose dark timbers were worn of paint that clung to the edges near the banks of the river. The spindly legs of the bridge grew thicker in the center, and it looked like some great centipede stretched out over the river, which here was narrow and fast moving, a rich orange color with the silt from the mountains. There were white swirls in the water that I watched obsessively, trying to stay away. The long journey had left me listless. It was at this point that the owner of the boat, a thin man with a long nose and almost hollowed out cheek bones came to me.

"Miss will want some." He offered a cup of liquid that was pale green, and had an acrid reek to it.

"It is medicine?" I looked directly at him and felt the vapors of it rise into my nostrils. It was pungent, but smelled leafy, like the aurora of a tree captured in a cup.

"It will cure what ails the miss. I promise."

Having heard many stories of offered medicines, it would have been foolish to take it, except that my father was an important enough person that it would have been unwise to attempt any such thing with me. For a moment I had a vision of myself as being drowsier and drowsier, and then, something, happening. My understanding of sex was not clear. I had seen people moving together under covers, and I had seen animals having sex, but connecting this to my own body and what it would mean had not happened. I knew the owner wanted sex with me, because his eyes had been all over me the entire journey.

I took the cup. I drank it back swiftly. I felt nothing, and continued to loll in the swiftly setting sun. It's orange bloated spider body clambering to the horizon. But as the day prepared to sleep, I found more and more energy, my eyes opened, as did my mind. I resumed scatching on the slate, and began to play with poetic phrases that I had heard, rather than just scribing exercises. At last I could remember one song I had heard sung several times, and set it down on the slate. I brushed it clear with the sleeve of my cloak.

At this point my father looked down on me and beckoned me to stand. My mind and sight had taken on a peculiar clarity that they had never had before, and even though the light had grown trickier, the details were finer to my sight.

We passed under the great wood bridge, the river narrowed, and the sides rose, seemingly carved out of the stone, and rising higher than the mast of a sea boat. The sun was setting and behind us, with the cups and shapes of the sheer cliff face having dark and deep rims and rings the sucked in the light like the holes in a skull. One place in the river turned and two such round shapes stared back, in a lopsided face. I was standing, in a brown traveling cloak, held by a clasp made of bronze with a leave shape over the pin. Beneath this I had a heavy wool over tunic, and beneath that my linen dress, now grey from use. I wore boots made of worked leather, that my father had made for me. I had travelled with him before, and my feet had been cold. He was not a man to suffer the same problem twice. My father was more richly dressed, with layers of cloth and wool, and a cloak that was heavier than all of the clothes I wore together. He had a girth that had grown with the prosperity of years, and a roundness of face in which was set two shining eyes. He was prone to smile, and had wrinkles at the corners of his mouth from it. His hair was now cut short in straight lines, because he was too busy to have it carefully done. It fell straight and dark. He was tallish, but no taller than I, a fact that made others stare at me, because women are seldom my height at all.

He stared up the river, his features clearly darkening in thought. He turned to me and began to speak:

"Monsoon, I will need you to scribe for me on this. The people here need to learn to set on papyrus the agreements, so that when I return, there will be proof that we have made the bargains that we set out to make. And proof that they are to be held to. Do you think you can do this?"

As usual, he offered no preamble to his statements. I replied as I usually did.

"And what have you to offer me?" It was almost a ritual phrase among merchants, because people would point to what they wanted, and, if they did not show what they wanted to give in return. needed prompting by gestures and questions. So it is in trade when people do not speak common languages.

He first turned his head, but then, gripping the rail of the boat, rotated his body fully around to look at me. He drew breath, thought for a moment, and then spoke again.

"There."

Sprawled out before us was a single division in the river, that spread out like fingers of a hand grasping. Along both banks were cluttered low buildings, blocky, and encompassing of courtyards, from which could be seen growing flowering trees. In the prow of the peninsula itself, taller buildings, surrounded by a wall with ramparts. Stone, not brick, decorated with colored banners. The tallest of which was one I did not know, a green banner with a white tiger. I pointed to this and looked at my father quizzically, but he did not know, and shrugged. Clearly change was a foot here.

The boat lazily slowed, and reached stones that were set out into the current of the water. The wall loomed above us. Set into the wall was a great heavy gate, worn by many years, and dented. Behind it were wooden doors, studded with huge nails that looked as if only a giant could pound them in. Even though it was dusk, torches had been lit and there was business loading and unloading. I smelled the smell of the liquid, and saw sacks of green leaves, dried and curled up, and some fresh. I saw the sign on the side of them, and copied it several times on to my slate, and in the air with my finger.

I followed my father, who, despite his bulk, was adept at weaving through men scurrying about their business. There were some leers at me, perhaps thinking that any woman with painted eyes must be a prostitute, since this was not the more ceremonial dock. I wondered why we chose to arrive here, or perhaps not, my father was glancing in all directions, carefully noting the signs, jars, boxes, bags, piles and urns. He would stop and take a deep draught of the air from time to time, soaking in the flavors that hung here. Noting the colors. I could only follow his glances and understand, after he had laid them, why that particular thing had found its way to his attention.

We passed between the open jaws of the gate, and between the swung inward doors. They felt of dampness, and there were stains of dirt, blood, oil, and smears of grease on them. The handle was black, darker black than at first, I thought could be naked metal, but so it was. The city had had many battles, it was clear, and I hoped that I would get a chance to hear some of the story tellers, not for the battle stories, but because almost all such stories featured some romance and bits of poetry which, if properly recited, could transport the listener into a waking dream.

We began cutting our way through the street, the fronts of the houses and buildings were simply stone built up, occasionally carved with figures. Only doors. Nothing opened on to the street. The street itself was of carefully fit together larger stones, each three or four times as far across as my feet. In this were set proper drains, to snake away the water. The sides curved so the middle was higher than the edges, and the edges had steps up from the general lay of the stones. My home town did not bother much with streets, but had channels and walk ways slung between buildings. But they are no more, or would be no more soon.

Up the slowly inclined street, which ran parallel to the eastern river, the Gungaria, as it was then called. We finally reached the point where we were higher than the wall, and below was a clutter of square within square roofs: the centers being courtyards. Within them I could see circular terraces and bowed trees, from which budded flowers. We halted before a thick non-descript door, my father halted, presented an inlaid ivory token, which clearly gained him admission, and then pointed at me and presented another. We walked in through this door, twice as wide as that of an ordinary house, and into a low darkened room. A slab of wood was set across two stones, and behind it a person sat on a round stone with a square of filled cloth. I guessed it to be some kind of pillow, though it was very plain compared to the embroidered ones I was used to.

The door slammed closed behind us, and we were pointed to a hall, set into which were drape covered entry ways. Behind us two men carried our baggage. We entered in, and the room was empty. My father never slept in other people's beds if he could help it. We brought rolls to sleep on, reed mats and sheets, with two blankets each. I was, however, too aroused by the effects of the medicine to sleep, and was happily checking characters and set myself on finishing another row of embroidery. My father, by contrast, was snoring within minutes, his hand clutched around a short blade. It was deep into the night before sleep took me, and I listened carefully to the goings on, the shufflings, the arrivals, the sounds of conversation, distantly grunting exertions, I did not know of what kind, and the laughter of women, I think playing sticks with some men.

But then I fell into the dream world, and I will, in the next scroll, recount what happened there.

Batterers for Equality

2009-11-08T06:27:00.000-08:00

Double XX on the rise of the batter's movement.

House Passes Sex Tax Amendment

2009-11-07T21:02:00.000-08:00

I am beyond angry, beyond fury, beyond words at the passing of the amendment which bars the health insurance exchanges from providing abortion coverage, nor for the public option to do so.

Linden Labs, and the mainstreaming of Rape

2009-11-04T23:00:00.000-08:00

Adults, by which I mean sexually mature people, not merely those who have reached legal majority, have sexual fantasies, and virtual reality is one place where they can play these out. Even extreme fantasies can be healthy, healthier worked out than bottled up. At the same time, people should not have to have other people's search for sexual fantasy inflicted on them. That's the logic behind ratings. Just like commercial activity, sex is such a powerful motivator, that people looking for it will fill every available niche. This is a good reason for ballrooms banning escorting, and it is a good reason for having search classified by category. Since "PG" in LL is so low a bar that even El Greco wouldn't always meet it, "Mature" can't be a sufficient bar for sex to jump.

I am not in favor of how LL has done ratings, because it has very clearly injected it's own crass commercial interests in spying on people in return for sex. But LL is doing more than that, in that it's policy enforcement is clearly intended to mainstream rape. LL does not enforce its rules against rape parcels almost at all. Despite personal knowledge of them by LL employees, despite repeated reports, despite flagrant violation of its own rules. Since LL does threaten parcel owners who break content rules, it cannot say that it is not pro-active, on the contrary, it has been very pro-active in pushing people into Zindra, and getting parcels to shift to adult.

Most imfamously the former "Rape Torture Kill" is now "BnB Forced Sex RP," on a mature sim, with other surrounding sims. Yet LL leaves it strictly alone. It has changed owners, and LL continues to protect it and promote it, by driving other competition out. LL is not merely allowing one sim to remain going, it is mainstreaming rape by removing other areas. Rape rooms are far more trafficked now than they were before, precisely because LL has left so many of them strictly alone.

But not rape parcels.

You cannot turn back the clock

2009-11-03T19:34:00.001-08:00

I have a build of the LL viewer with basic stars fixes

2009-11-03T15:03:00.001-08:00

Next is to build and test snowglobe, and then fix stars near the horizon, when the viewer starts to alpha the moon out. Fortunately there is a function to blot out stars near a heavenly body, so I will have to make it apply to stars close to the moon.

Escort Oasis. Adult Content Rules? What R Thoz?

2009-11-02T01:22:00.000-08:00

From their parcel description:

Escort Oasis tm sm is a diffrent kind of place. It is a busy freelance club, lots of hot girls and guys. dancers and escorts keep 100% of their tips. Free ad boards, 12 free private skyboxes, 20 dance poles, freebies, MALL and shops. o

Looks like another example of how LL allows people to flagrantly violate adult content rules.

Why should any business owner follow them? Several large businesses clearly don't.

Another Adult Content Violator

2009-11-02T01:19:00.000-08:00

Dirty Sex Yard hands out this notecard:

WELCOME TO Mony's DIRTY SEX YARD & SEX CITY !

FREE SEX as well as FREELANCE ESCORTING are what this place is made for.
You can find here BOTH free and paid sex, the choice is yours, just try to not mix them up :) Have a careful look at all corners of the city and follow the arrows to the Dirty Sex Yard. You will find a lot of kinky places :)

ALL IS FREE TO USE! except the freelance escorts:) but INCLUDING the DSY sluts that sit on sex balls in AFK mode and the campers on GREEN BALLS! We have a very special kind of camping here: the "FUCK THE CAMPER" system :). All campers on GREEN BALLS are FREE TO FUCK! (see detailed rules below)

If you are new, have a look around, get the "Newbie FAQ" and READ IT, test the balls to see how they work. Wait for another newbie (or bring one with you :) to test them together.. There's also lots of FREEBIES for both men and women.. Find them and take as many as you wish.

If you are a freelance dancer or escort, you are WELCOME here, feel free to offer your services (you can get tips directly we charge no commissions, therefore tip jars are not needed) or call your available clients and use all the sex items with them for free. There are also 3 rooms in the main building, 2 of which have menu driven MLP balls. Just click the floor to get balls and menu. Then start fuckin dirty in the dirty rooms and dirty bathrooms :)

There is also a SKY VILLA, free to use, in case you need more privacy. Teleporters are allover the place.

It is pretty clear that LL does not care about it's own rules.

You should think about this if you want to do a serious business in Second Life.

RTK Does the Whack a Mole

2009-11-02T01:16:00.000-08:00

Rape Torture Kill, the sim that most flagrantly violated adult content rules, has a new owner of its parcel. Here are the rules:

BNB FORCED SEX
ROLEPLAY SIM RULES

1. Safe Word always to be respected:
Code Red - This means STOP

2. OOC Titles mean “Out of Character”
DO NOT ask them to role play or for sex

3. Non RP related harassment or abuse
will get you banned.

4. No Child Avatars

5. Must be a adult in real life – No kids
Kids found will be banned

6. No Use of Bite huds (vampires, werewolves, etc)

7. Only BNB – FSR Prostitutes can charge for sex
Please report others to owners

Looks like the new owners are just as much in violation as the old ones, but obviously think that if they take the Kill out they are OK... The people running it are long time SL people, so they know exactly what they are doing.

A friend's big suggestion

2009-11-01T20:02:00.001-08:00

There are at least two open source planetarium programs that draw to Open GL. It would be a huge project to merge them, but it would be possible. The upside would be an incredible viewer experience. The downside? A slower, larger, viewer.

What do people think?

Lillie's Sky To Do List

2009-11-01T14:23:00.000-08:00

Learn how to add a debug setting
• Add settings for sun and moon texture
• Add setting to not draw day, which creates space.

Clean up LLSky and LLHeavenBody
• HeavenBody should have parameters which determine it's motion relative to the background of stars.
• Clean up LLSkyInterface so that there are HeavenBody equivalents of all Sun Calls

Moon
• Unlock Moon from Sun
• Phases of the moon. Textures of same.

Moon Illusion

Download current LL Viewer Source Code
• Add changes.

Write Next To Do List

Sky Fixes

2009-10-31T17:55:00.001-07:00

Note that the moon is now in front of, not behind, the stars. Note that the stars now cluster along a "galactic equator" and have a more realistic scatter. None of this was hard to do... an art major pixel prostitute could figure it out.

Next step is larger: the moon moving relative to the sun, and having phases. This is harder than it looks because LL assumes the two are on opposite sides, and there are some lighting things to deal with. There is also the problem that old code hasn't been cleaned out, even though it is not actually used.

More later.

Thence we came forth to rebehold the stars.

2009-10-30T18:00:00.000-07:00

You will need to click on this image.

Stars

2009-10-30T15:45:00.001-07:00

Poetry Year - End

2009-10-27T17:34:00.000-07:00

There in black lace and robes of velvet the morners gather,
a rocky cove on the ocean of grief.
They are in pictures we have made, in color more fantastic,
in shapes more vivid, in edges more clean.
The mourn as we do not mourn,
cry as we do not cry,
feel loss as loss is denied us,
save in extremities of war or panicked ill fortune's grasp.

It has taken on a death of its own, these years,
a gulf that separates us from our pasts and present,
where, across the sea, and across the sands,
forgotten people mourn, in forgotten lands.

[Last one of the poetry project. It is time to put my fingers to other tasks... Though of course, more verse will visit these pages from time to time.]

New York Times on the End of the Museum Boom

2009-10-25T15:24:00.000-07:00

Museum boom ends.

With the end of easy money, comes the end of large donations in pursuit of "the edifice complex."

Which is why I am turning my thoughts to the idea that brought me to SL in the first place: museums. Specifically the display of art and other objects, which even if they are nominally 2D, have a 4D component. We do not grasp a painting instantaneously, nor as a flat object, but instead over time, from different vantage points. Looking at objects in 3D over time produces a different effect. It is time to have a boom in innovation and renovation, rather than excavation and self-glorification.

Poetry Year October 24

2009-10-24T10:31:00.000-07:00

Words are a distant sun,
So frail to be, unseen even by sharpest eyes.
Words are a distant sun
a billion suns, a billion suns around a billion suns.
So far so frail, so weak,
but brought inexorable the tide,
the filaments of dark that curl clawed fingers,
and hold the fate of all in their hands.

Poetry Year October 23

2009-10-23T09:17:00.000-07:00

So much Time is wasted
So many minutes chase each other down a spiral drain
And we hear them sucked away
Before they are tasted on our lips
Or are there to bring refreshing moment of inspiratio,
Even as idle pleasure that lights like fresh sun
Through old clouds.

Poetry Year October 22

2009-10-23T07:52:00.000-07:00

What are you waiting for?
For what, for what?
For what calling scream in the middle of the night,
the crash of glass and metal in the soul,
that upends and flattens all delusions of a working life.

What are you looking for?
For someone you, even though, you do not know who?
For what is this longing,
to stand a top the city's highest tower,
and spread your arms to tip forward,
falling into flying,
as the stuff that fantasy is made of.

To where are you going, to where? And how?
What locations beyond the edges of faded maps,
in between the navigator's gaps,
where glowing white is not an empty space,
but a somewhere, with it's own sense of place.

Catch me, I am falling, free fall, free flight,
the windows racing by,
the wind rushing up to cushion this streak,
from high in the air,
towards a destiny below,
where all and everything
a moment, for a moment, only a moment,
stops.

Coiled in agony,
boiled in ecstasy,
shattered and flattened,
my body pulled to languid end.

I wake, and am warm in your arms,
and you are warm inside me,
and like a body that from tower tossed,
I lie here, looking, upward, at the your beautiful stars.

Poetry Year: October 23

2009-10-23T07:49:00.000-07:00

Given Line:
"I cannot yet then have you, 'cept in portrait, shadow, dreams"

and what dreams may come will hold a lantern light
beside the only road we need to walk upon.
The shadows are not shadows, but reflections of the inner silence,
that holds the spaces between the fragments of noctural melody,
and thus,
in waking find that gift of gifts, sleep,
and sweet repose, where lives the lucid memoires
of our better mind.

Examples of Sexual Harassment in Second Life

2009-10-22T07:24:00.000-07:00

In Egypt, the BBC reports, a sizable minority of women are victims of "phone stalking." Men call, often at random, and demand to know the woman's name, and then often demand sex or threaten for sex. Women do not report, because often these violations are not taken seriously. Egypt is passing tougher laws.

Linden Labs pro-sexual harassment policies place them behind Egypt on the scale of enlightenment. In Second Life women are expected to submit to sexual harassment constantly, by people who are knowingly violating the terms of service. One reason that no company in its right mind should do business with Linden Lab is that doing so indicates your support of sexual harassment and sexism. Having followed abuse reports of sexual harassment, I know what almost every sexual harasser on Second Life knows: that there is no penalty for doing it, so why not do it?

Consider this dialog from an illegal sex sim in a mature region:

[7:12] Olsin Skute: you look very pretty dear..are you taken?
[7:12] Lillie Yifu: Hello
[7:14] Olsin Skute: you are not interested?
[7:14] Lillie Yifu: in what?
[7:14] Olsin Skute: in getting to know me better..;)
[7:14] Olsin Skute: i stand behind you
[7:14] Lillie Yifu: it depends on what you mean.
[7:15] Olsin Skute: well....i mean that i find your av quite beautifull and i would like to talk more with you....maybe eventually ending up where we may become more intimate
[7:16] Lillie Yifu: No thank you, I am just here reporting the sim for ToS violations
[7:17] Olsin Skute chuckles.....
[7:17] Olsin Skute: andf you dressed that way...really now dear....
[7:18] Lillie Yifu: so?
[7:21] Olsin Skute: so.....this is a sim for adult fun...everyone knows that and that is why most come here.......if you want to simply look and observe then thats fine although plucking silly excuses out of the air only works with the youngsters here..not me....enjoy yourself dear however that may be..
[7:21] Lillie Yifu: thank you for coming out and violating the ToS , I will report you now.
[7:21] Lillie Yifu: beijos
[7:22] Olsin Skute: as you wish....says olsin with a soft smile on his face and a chuckle in his throat

Olsin knows there is no penalty. His RL is untouchable, he won't be so much as warned by Linden Labs, no matter how flagrantly he sexually harasses women.

Linden Labs is objectively pro-rape, objectively pro-sexual harassment, objectively sexist. They are a company that sells the ability to sexually harass women to men who want to do it.

From now on I am going to look up companies and politicians doing business with LL, and start publicizing, in a larger forum than this, their pro-sexist ties, and support for sexual harassment and violence against women.

One More Mature Orgy Room Down

2009-10-22T04:03:00.000-07:00

Metal88 Carter's Free Sex rooms have been unplugged, and no surprises, he is not moving to Zindra.

For those who do not follow such things, let me explain that we are watching the death of an SL business model: the orgy mall. Now in the real world, I very much doubt people would go to a mall with naked guys with hard cocks running around propositioning anyone who might possibly be XX endowed, but in SL for a long time things worked this way: traffic pushed one up in the rankings, traffic is basically how long an agent is in an area, 1000 traffic points is roughly one avatar day. To generate traffic, parcel owners had to attract people, but generally the number of people with money to spend is lower than those who are just hanging out on SL. So to attract the hangers out, owners had to create reasons to be there. Now actual content is hard, but getting people to hang out is easy: give out something for free. This was called "camping."

One form of camping is giving out Linden Dollars: for sitting, by money trees or other games, and so on. Another form of camping is content camping: midnight mania, lucky chairs, and so on. The point of this is to give out something and make people wait for the chance to get it. However, even better is to give out something that costs you nothing. Hence "free sex." The point of free sex is to attract the chat room crowd. The people who log in, grease up, and ask every female handle their age, location, and measurements.

In a phrase, attract cunt campers.

As far as I know, I'm the only person who has admitted to doing any kind of survey or research on these in sl, and have blogged about them often. I still need to publish my survey of pick up lines, but that's for later I think. Anyway, to get to the heart of it. Mostly these places had newbie guys, many still shouting for how to find a free cock, and sex equipment lying around. There were a few female avatars who would play in such places, but mainly women who were there were there for another reason entirely. One was, of course, to laugh at the guys, another to fish out the very occasional guy worth having. But mainly, it was to spam something: vampire bites, advertisements for escort services, other sex clubs and so on. My count was that there were between 8 and 20 males looking for instant, no strings attached, sl sex for every female.

And in the main, women looking for no strings attached sex were seeking to try it out with someone who was not relationship material, and then move on. This led to the approach of men learning to ask women if they wanted to "try" the sex poseballs, because they assumed that their best chance was with a first time girl. Given how badly most of these men did SL sex there wasn't a second time.

Cunt camping had, at it's peak, a dozen major orgy sims. That's full sims. But for much of the last two years there were five main places: Neva Naughty, Free Sex Empire, Free Sex Land, Bukkake Bliss, Sexyland by Mixter Merlin. There were also a few other smaller ones, such as Sex4All. I'm half writing this list so that it is somewhere in the memory of the internet. There were also mainland orgy rooms, Bordeaux for example. I am leaving separate both freelance escort houses, and specialized places, such as BDSM rooms, even though there was some overlap. The reason is that specialized places sold specialized content, where as the orgy rooms had general purpose malls.

Now that is the key: the people who shop are the ones paying for the orgy room. Even if they buy at another location, because the rent at the orgy room is part of the overhead of the retailer or designer. There is no such thing, as free sex, but there was a system by which sex pollution could happen. I call it that because the costs were born by others, both in terms of providing the place, and in terms of other effects. There was almost no scam on sl that did not route people from the orgy rooms to the scam. Whether it was spamgames like SLBloodlines, or fishing expeditions.

It also has a long term social effect: men who pass through orgy rooms continue to ask women they saw there for sex. Harass in some cases. This is true whether or not the woman displayed the slightest interest.

An important reason for adult content rules is this: LL can only run at a certain level of concurrency on the main grid without major problems from various systems that are basically near their capacity. This means that LL's business goal is not more people, but to have more profitable people. Cunt campers, almost by definition, are among the least useful people on Second Life, in that they are relentlessly dedicated to neither paying for anything, nor contributing anything. They do not generally build, script or much of anything else. It is a big deal in an orgy room, and used as a pick up line, to have a place to go. Often this place is an LM to someone else's skybox. Adult content rules, by providing a very low filter, get rid of the people who make a free email, make a free sl account, search for "free sex" and then begin running around.

The cost in traffic of going adult is hard to measure, since many simply pulled the plug. Sex4All, Sexyland, and Free Sex Empire folded. Sexland dropped from around 60K to 21K, and most of those were looking for slesbian sex. I say this being fully aware that many are men irl, but be that as it may, that makes it a specialized, rather than general, desire.

However, for special purpose orgy rooms, there was no final drop off in traffic. The BDSM rooms, such as Bondage Ranch, saw no final drop off in traffic. Basically, people who want something specific, will register as adults to find it. People who want hit and run pixel pumping, have moved elsewhere for their fix. At this writing there is one old style orgy mall left with high traffic: Bukkake Bliss.

One can see why this model cannot survive the adult content rules. It was always basically a scam: selling access to other people's free sex, and charging content buyers for the privilege of funding a cock dump.

I am writing this summary because since the introduction of adult content rules, it was clear that this particular business model was going to go away, it relied precisely on the kind of people that LL wants to get rid of: the people who have no intention of ever spending any money. LL does not care about sexual harassment, not by their employees, not by residents, not by anyone. They even encourage it. However, they do care about money, and this was a group of users who were creating more cost than benefit. They aren't doing it because they are nice people.

After adult content rules went into effect, several parcels and sims decided to ignore them. This had been true of the old PG/Mature ratings, but adult content ratings have an even stronger incentive to break them. As I noted at the top, today one of the most flagrant of the adult content avoiders, pulled his parcel. He had 35000 traffic, on a 2048m parcel of mainland. That's 1/32 of a sim, using almost all of the sim's resources. Metal88 Carter, the person who ran it, ran two other parcels of the same kind. They are gone as well.

[Picture is the nearly empty Free Sex Land orgy room.]

LL Tells Developers that Encrypted Chat/IM is a ToS violation

2009-10-20T18:10:00.000-07:00

A message was sent to developers today stating that viewers that violated the ToS would not be allowed to be registered. This means that the content law suit is having an effect. In future only compliant viewers will be allowed to log on to SL. The three things listed specifically were

1. Encrypted Chat,
2. Downloading or copying content,
3. Getting personal information without consent.

2 is pretty much straightforward, 3 is merely automation, but

Encyrytion?

For many geeks, I think, that is a deal breaker.

Jonathan Bishop has posted this to a developer list:

I have just spent the last hour or two reading the blog on this topic. The
quality of the discussion is so completely uninformed from essentially a few
people that are being allowed to monopolize the comment threads that it is
almost dysfunctional.

So I am going to comment here where at least people with some idea of what
the issues are will see it.

I see a clear benefit of having a list of SL browsers that are "recognized
by LL" to be, say, well behaved, not likely to steal the user's account
details, or intentionally corrupt their machine, or duplicate their content
and email it to the chattering masses. But that is where it stops.

The idea that a registration system should (or even could) be devised that
forces each browser to be pre-approved before accessing SL would
e3ffectively halt OS development and defeat the a key purpose of OS'ing the
code in the first place. Why?

Firstly, because the development life cycle is to test the thing being
developed under real world load and conditions. Something that can only be
done on the grid - until the server code is OS'd as well.

Secondly, a key advantage of OS is the flux in the development and product
pool: the ability to pursue many similar paths across many teams
concurrently so that innovation occurs and gradually the better, more useful
solutions emerge. The whole point is a lack of stability across the entire
development tree but stability within each branch and trunk. Once
registration and authorization is mandatory the branches cease to stray from
the trunk.

Thirdly, the cost in time and resources for LL to code verify every
candidate browser would defeat the economic benefit of LL outsourcing it in
the first place, and the diversion of resources from server enhancement, and
key feature innovation would increase the risk of a competitor duplicating
and catching up to the SL solution. They would be better scrapping the OS
browser's all together.

Fourthly, it is too late. The key information about how everything works is
already "out of the bag", so any attempt to close it without massively
changing the server interface would be ineffective.

Fifthly, the suggestion made by some on the list that a binary hash code
could be used to verify the integrity of the browser version connecting
(a-la-unix code version verification) ignores the fact that (a) the browser
can report any number it likes to the hash request, and even if that could
be avoided, no one can stop me writing an injection dll and hooking directly
to the winproc, the ports, dynamically replacing procedure calls or wrapping
the OpenGL dll or the win32 dll, or any one of a dozen other ways I can
inject my own library into an otherwise legitimate app - that will continue
to report the hashcode correctly, once it has loaded. Anyone who doubts me
and has a Logitech camera attached to the computer - take a look in the
windows temp folder for a dll called Lvprcinj***.dll - that is the Logitech
injection dll that ensures the camera can always function regardless of what
is running.

I think a registry is a good idea to protect non-programmers who want to
download an alternate viewer in safety. Beyond that - for example as an
enforcement tool - it is a waste of valuable resources. And yes, I am a
content developer who wishes copybot (et al) did not exist, but I would not
for a moment claim the world should be made "safer" by tieing the thumbs of
the browser developers. As someone who essentially uses the LL viewer, I
have no personal position to protect with respect to the OS browsers - but I
100% support what is being done by the OS developers, and am very concerned
that the predominant tone of the comments in the blog thread is dangerously
uninformed, self interested, destructive and simply technically wrong.

Regards

Jonathan Bishop

But that isn't what this is for. It is about the content duopoly and the law suit.

Poetry Year October 21

2009-10-20T16:52:00.000-07:00

the elegance of the arc contains more meaning than any human pen may so ordain,
such blind making of all that might be and is, has not bent to our ear to whisper,
the language or the code of its devising, nor to enlighten us by celestial glimmer.
What majesty it makes to our smaller sense, the show that it shows to deign,
and then deny, the multitude within every whirling ghostly quanta in flight.
But solitude has it's rewards, as we reap the shares of harvest imagination,
and all we need is a simple change to scale imponderable mount.
I've discovered of this, a marvelous proof, which I can recount,
as soon as I stop fighting with this word processor's pagination.

Adult Policy Violation of the Day

2009-10-20T10:51:00.000-07:00

Here is the complete rules set of Rape Torture Kill, a Mature area:

Welcome at R.T.K (Rape - Torture - Kill) Forced Sex Role Play Sim.

􀀀

􀀁

Please take a moment to read our rules,it may be boring but this will help you to know what is alowed and what is not to avoid misunderstandings.Thank you.
********************************************************************************************

Be aware that this is an EXTREME Roleplay area so if the words Rape,Torture,Discrimination,Bad language,Stalking,Harassing,Drugs,Crime,Abuse,Death sound of limits for you then please leave.
(Stalking,Harrassing,Bad language and Discrimination is strictly within a consensual roleplay.In any other case
you will be banned at once).

Any other avatar except Human,Dogs,Cats-Neko's and Beasts is prohibited! This includes but is not restricted to Centaurus,Robots,Vampires and underage avatars (Chidavatars) ( If you're 5’3” tall, but have an "adult appearance", you're just short, that's ok).

Free fuck seekers this is a RP area, you can have fun but you are not allowed to disturb other residents,if you see that they're Role Playing !!!DON'T!!! keep IMing Females and ask them the very usual "Wanna fuck?".Respect others and !!!DON'T!!! walk around nude,try to be a part of this city,be dressed and when the time comes you can get nude with 3-4 clicks.Thanks!

Do not interrupt roleplay scenes,if you want to participate then kindly ask them,if you want to watch then please stay at a 20 m. distance.
When you are in this sim forget everything,you will live the role you will choose,you will work on it and you will
make him/her an active resident of this city.

If you get killed here you will be banned for 3 days (you cant get killed and walk around after a minute.)
If you get wounded then you must mark your body ie.wound layers,weelchair etc. and again you must be wounded at least for 3 days(no ban).

No Escorting or sex for money except if you are a slut,then you can ask 250L$/hour but of course you can get fooled and get raped and/or killed.Also you can apply at CUM-INN sluthouse and poledance.Management takes the 20% of the tips.(Dont forget that we are a RP area,all these are to help the Role Play not to earn money,so do not expect to tip you a fortune.For example a 50L$ tip is like a 50$ one,think like that.)

No Griefing,grief is also when you have attached a huge amount of prims on you.Please keep your rendering cost close at 4000.We have many menu driven sex objects so the lag wll make the RP boring till the menu pop up etc.
( Go to Advanced menu ~ if you dont see it then hit CTRL+ALT+D ~ then Rendering/Info Displays/Avatar Rendering Cost/Now look over your head your rendering cost and try to reduce it.Hair and prim clothing creates the most lag.So if you have Damselfy,Sweet hair - hair or Blow-up Skirt detach them 1st.However we dont "ban" those brands we just inform you.To turn the rendering cost text off do the same again.)

Weapons are allowed but only for RP of course.You can have them attached to make the sceene more realistic.(Honestly if i could trust you i could allow the use of them too but out there are assholes who have fun when ruining other people fun.)

If you have a problem with someone use the easy way,dont continue and just leave him/her to be an asshole. Simply mute him/her and call the police in R.T.K Forced Sex Roleplay Group (always IC ~In Character using /me)and make a report of the incident, a clear report not like please ban " X " because he called me bitch. After that he/she will handle the rest.

If you want to Observe the sim then please wear this object (It is an Observer tag over your head it will attach on your right ear and you can be safe from everything,please respect all the residents while you are in the city,you can talk with the ppl who they dont RP though and ask them to learn more about this place. : 􀀂

I leave it to you to decide why LL has done nothing about it, despite repeated reports.