Boys and Girls! Raise giant worlds in your basement!

Back in college lit, we studied a Ray Bradbury story called Boys! Raise Giant Mushrooms in Your Basement! The premise of the story was that aliens, who could take on any form, packaged themselves as mushroom spores, then sold themselves via advertisements in kids’ magazines like Boys’ Life. When the boys ordered the mushrooms, raised them, and ate them with their families, the mushrooms could take over whoever ingested them.

I thought of this story when I saw that Google over the past several years has induced ordinary people to build a world for them–Google Earth. This is the virtual globe that Google first offered as a free software download in 2005, which it still is today (although business-oriented versions Google Earth Pro and Google Earth Enterprise cost some serious money).

Google Earth–like any other social network these days–has been busy harvesting its customers as product. Dangling the lure of free software, Google Earth has enticed people with time on their hands, and an unfulfilled creative urge, to start building houses, parks, trees, water features, bridges, buildings, castles, and every kind of world landmark–all modeled in exquisite texture, size, and scale to match real world counterparts. Your grocery store clerk is probably spending his evenings modeling a 3D masterpiece for Google Earth. Right under our noses, Google is populating its virtual world–and getting us to do it!

Linden Lab’s got nothing on Google . . .

When I first began hanging out in Second Life years ago, I marveled at Linden Lab’s ability to somehow convince a bunch of hugely talented people to spend untold hours building a world that Linden would profit from. More amazing, Linden actually noodled these same people into paying for the opportunity to do so! Even now that I’m a serious Second Lifer, I still marvel over Linden’s ability to crowdsource the building of a world.

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Live blogging Rod Humble vs what I’d love to hear

Update: For a list of all the recent SL closures, see Daniel Voyager’s tally here, and his updates here and here.

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I’m listening to Rod Humble at the Second Life Community Convention. How depressing. How sad. If you want to listen to Rod word for word, here’s the replay. Otherwise, here’s my take.

It’s not that he is saying anything dismal; on the contrary he’s oh-so-upbeat and cheerful; there’s just so much that he ISN’T SAYING. Like what I’d really love to hear:

I am cut to the quick that we are losing more and more of the best creators and the best sims of Second Life every day. Let’s talk about what we can do about this. How can we keep the best of you here? Why are you leaving? What’s wrong? I care about each and every one of you. How can we change the pricing? How can we bring mesh in without destroying the old builders? What can we do about permissions to keep you here? Won’t you miss your community, your friends, the stores that have been our lifeblood for years? Maybe it’s inevitable. Sort of like leaving your hometown to travel the world(s). But you were born here. Doesn’t that matter?

No, no, none of that.

But hey, I’ll give Rod a chance. Maybe it will get better. He’s only been talking about 10 minutes now.

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It’s summer, bring out the bikinis!

I love summer better than just about anything. Warm weather. Few clothes. Long days. Starry nights. Friends and beaches and road trips. Oh, and bikinis.

My favorite bikini this year is Summer Sidhe, by ColeMarie Soleil, available in the marketplace here. I paired it with the Orange Morpho Bodywrap by Chioca Latte, and one of my favorite airy summer skirts from Janzoe, part of the Gossamer Silk Dress. The tattoo is the Blue Moon Tattoo from Indigo Ink, and the leggings are part of Serina Juran’s Fire Fae pants from her shop, Stones of Heaven. The skin and makeup are both from Dr. Life, and the shape is Lisa from Insolence (somewhat modded by me). The hair is Fierce III from Tami McCoy’s shop, Hair by Tami.

Blogger come home

Hello, this is your blog speaking. Remember me? I’m the home where you used to live. I’ve forlornly watched you jet-setting around to fashionable spots all over the world, like Facebook, Twitter, Plurk, Second Life, LinkedIn, and the current hot getaway, Google+. I’ve left the porch light on every night, but you never come home anymore.

Sure, those clubs are fun for a night out now and then, but they aren’t your home. They don’t have a living room like I do, where you can kick off your shoes, put up your feet, and say “Ahhhhhh,” like I do.

Blogger come home! Please don’t mistake those night clubs for your home. They are dangerous and restrictive. If  you don’t like their rules, about all you can do is complain or “appeal,” and who is ever listening? And there’s always the threat that your account will be deleted, along with all the precious content you’ve created with your life’s blood running through it. Plus they break things. All the time. They’re not careful and sensitive the way I am. Things disappear from inventories. Messages get garbled or lost. Dreams are often trampled on without warning or apology.

Olly, Olly, oxen free! Imagine it’s a warm summer night, just about dusk when the fireflies twinkle and the moths flutter against the light on the porch. Your mother/father/sister/brother/friend is standing in the doorway calling you in from your play. It’s time. Build yourself an online home and treasure it. Live in it. Maintain it. Secure it. Protect your magnificent creations inside. Spruce it up now and then. Throw wild parties and invite people in.

Don’t give away all your brilliance to Google+ or some other third party. They’ll never appreciate you for who you are the way I do. They’ll never care about the magnificence of what you create the way I do. And they’ll never, ever listen to you the way your readers do.

To social media sites, you are an unpaid content creator, and an expendable one at that. You are wasting your wonderful, beautiful, incredible, irreplaceable energy building a home for someone who doesn’t even appreciate it. To them, you are a number, a source of revenue, the very product they are selling. And you will be tolerated for only as long as you fit in their package. Get too noisy, ungainly, or troublesome, and they will not hesitate to expel you. And they won’t even kick your suitcase out after you. You’ll leave with nothing, buck naked, not even a shirt on your back.

This is your blog calling you. I am your home:  your very own blog on your very own site. Sure you can have WordPress or Blogger or Tumblir host it for you. But that’s like inviting a stranger to live with you. They don’t love you like I do. They don’t wait up for you at night, shelter you through storms, have floor-to-ceiling windows that look out on dreamy vistas and distant horizons. Besides, they can quickly turn into the roommate from hell, and you know what that’s like.

Buy the domain. Host the site. Build me from the ground up.  No one is going to tell you how to design me or what widgets or plug-ins to use. Use your imagination. I’ll never monitor what you say, what you put in your profile, or what your content cloud looks like. You make the rules, or none at all. I won’t toss you out on the street because of your name. I will never tell you you’re too young, too strange-sounding, a square peg in a round circle.

Don’t get me wrong. I’m totally happy for you to hang out with your friends at social hot spots like Facebook and Twitter. But please, remember they’re just night clubs with glitzy lights and K-hole dance beats. Go out, have a great time, maybe even have a fling or two . . . but come back home to me. Your heart is waiting up for you.

Your dreams live here, and your  poems and stories and pet projects, too. My living room is big, comfy, welcoming . . .  always just the way you like it. Leave coffee cups and soda cans lying around on top of old pizza boxes. Or keep it squeaky clean. I don’t care which. This is your home. I love you just the way you are.

First they came . . . and Facebook followed

[cue sounds of heavy boots pounding on your doorstep and the front door crashing in . . . if you have time before they storm in, read the news in the Second Life Forum here about Facebook deleting Second Life avatar accounts. And before you have to grab your data and run, read a cautionary tale.

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Last chance for Elf Circle Home & Garden Tour

Last chance to visit the all the amazing spots in the  Elf Circle Home & Garden Tour Sunday. You can start here at The Bay Area and get a free pink pony to ride around. Giddyap! Just touch the Visitor’s Guide when you get there for a list of all the other locations. P.S. See the gorgeous Bay Area fog rolling in? Must be summer. lol

THEY Say, a poem

"Kobian"-photo courtesy Waseda University, Tokyo

THEY Say

by Bay Sweetwater

See that guitar player there? They say he’s just a dreamer.
And that girl having visions? Just too out of touch.
See that guy who turns his cheek? Just a troublemaker.
And that old guy with frizzy hair? He won’t amount to much.

O Robot, dry your tears, don’t listen to what THEY say.
No one at this party’s seeing clearly; it’s all a swirl
Of smoke and mirrors; no one sees into your soul;
They only see your steel and wires, though you might just save the world.


Inside Fukushima through the eyes of a robot

My new machinima goes inside Fukushima through the eyes of the robot who went into the reactor when human beings could not. My entry in Linden Endowment of the Arts June Month of Machinima event.

RIP Rheta Shan

Two years ago today we got the news:

… on April 3rd, my wife was hit by a van as she crossed the street to get to the bakery. She was dead before SAMU could reach the hospital. She was 9 months pregnant; our unborn son died shortly after she did, despite doctors’ best efforts. […]

Dear Rheta, you changed my life.  How have we managed to live . . .  two whole years . . .  without you?

You were softness and sharpness, sweetness and the occasional bitterness . . and (how?)  life and death too.

Creative Commons Dance Video, Second Life machinima

Here’s my latest. Dancing shoes required!