Chapeau Thermidore

Oh! I do like this Lobster Hat Ordinal Malaprop was seen wearing at the New Babbage Town Meeting!
Image shamelessly borrowed from the insatiable Zoe Connolly, via World of SL

All Dressed Up...

...and nowhere to go. By the time I was able to reconnect to the grid, rehearsal was over and I never had my chance to join in the Atomic Raygun Robot Jig.

Power, like a desolating pestilence, pollutes whate'er it touches; and obedience, bane of all genius, virtue, freedom, truth, makes slaves of men, and of the human frame, a mechanized automaton.

Shelley 1813

I was a slave to the music, that's all.

Vanity

Provided a man is not mad, he can be cured of every folly but vanity.
I just liked the picture.

Eight Random Facts about Me[me]

No one tagged me, but I'm sending you eight random facts anyway. Facts I have never admitted to anyone. Facts I almost cannot bear to admit. Facts I am sure you will not want to know. Tant pis. It's not a democracy, it's a blog.

1) I once fell in love with DD, an encyclopaediast, but foolishly accepted the unfortunate estate of marriage with the Devil instead, a very, very long time ago, and carry the scars to prove it. We fought like game-cocks, and the contest cost me dearly. I am still on the run from that eternal, dreadful doom, but he is preoccupied with the current state of Creation and generally leaves me alone.

2) I sleep with the light on.

3) I cannot rest when intoxicated. I will spew nonsensical speech for hours, and utterly annhilate the patience of those acquaintances foolish enough to encourage me. There is a faculty in the makeup of a woman's intelligence given over to fancy and puns when discretion is drown'd. Wine and beauty great souls should inspire, but I in my cups have a tongue that won't tire. Puns and execrable rhymes.

4) I never was a lover of business but now have just reason to hate it, as it keeps me these two months past from seeing my friends. Fie! We were born for play and gaiety, and still I labour like an anthill.

5) I have given up most of my possessions, but yet covet all the beautiful things of the world. I know I have not treasure enough to sate even the smallest share of my desire, and so consume the universe of forms extravagantly with my eyes, and store their pretty images in my heart, driving out all thought of the divine.

6) I was once thrown out of a monastery for impersonating a monk.

7) I aspire to be a poet and an artist, but an overlong life robs all urgency from the task. I too love opera, but cannot sing a note in tune, even were my life to depend upon it.

8) I do not, in fact, exist. Not in any measurable physical form. I do inspire and, not to put too fine a point on it, control one happy individual and thereby effect my will upon the world. Living through a proxy has certain advantages: I do not pay taxes. I may be insubstantial but I am not immortal and I am certain I shall, eventually, die. I do not believe in the soul, though I believe our imaginations include the memories of some of those who have gone before us.

And now I should tag others. But as the declared visitors to my blog are contained within a small gang of miscreants, most of whom have already bitten their memes, I hereby tag ye who lurk and read without commenting, you the unknowable and silent inheritors.

Pensive

With eyes up-rais'd, as one inspired,
Pale Melancholy sat retir'd;
And from her wild sequester'd seat,
In notes, by distance made more sweet,
Pour'd through the mellow horn her pensive soul;

A finalist!

After writing a long entry on the vanity of appearances, my face appears on a list of "ten avatars who most engage on a human level". That sounds to my ears suspiciously like a crime, and certainly contains a level of human chauvinism unwarranted in our multicultural world (what will they say at Shindig and on the isle of Wyrms?).
Yet I am swelling with pride to be counted among others of evident talent and craft, "as happy a woman as any in the world, for the whole world appears to smile upon me."

I, Avatar

This narrowly-framed gentleman, in spite of sinister appearance and habit, is the most gentle and creative Pighed Stonecutter, whose soon-to-be-published book I, Avatar will celebrate the vanity of Second Life. He has kindly invited me to participate, and we spent an hour taking photographs.
Spinoza chides us: "None are more taken in by flattery than the proud, who wish to be the first and are not." Tis an honest and painful sermon, esp. after I have spent so much money and lavished so much time on my cloak and cap and boots. But it cannot be so serious a sin to make one's self pleasing to another's eye, or to take pains in creating a delightful mein. One hopes our Qualities within might shine without, and the cloth only serve to frame them, as a curtain frames the stage. Second Life teaches us not to credit our prejudices, for our eyes behold at every turn a more fantastickal race of men and women (and other less classifiable creatures) than ever walked upon the earth. I have generally found intelligence and kindness behind the most ferocious and alarming face, and have observed that beauty and grace do not always go in hand. I am thereby convinced such unexpected pleasure and disappointment hone our judgment and sharpen our wit. The intoxicating unreality of the experience (for reality is a bland, watered drink, wouldn't you agree?) keeps one mindful of the great effort and great art embodied in every stranger you greet, and every strange place wherein you meet. Who would have expected fluent French from the founder of boar.com? Peut-etre M. Pighed sache ou je peux trouver des truffes.
When Goethe put Voltaire's Mahomet on stage, Schiller commented, "Appearances should never attain reality, and if nature conquers, then must art retire." I thank God and the Devil, and their armies of angels and daemons who inspire us, that art stands unconquered by nature in Second Life.

On writing a book:
but it's nice to get the first paycheck, because only a fool or one of the 12 apostles of Christ would write for any other reason. i'm proud of the fact i get the occasional royalty check, but they're not big enough to make writing books worth it. i'm not an apostle and so i must fall into the fool category.
Pighed

Anti-Pragmatic Manifesto

Heather McDougal has written an anti-pragmatic manifesto that is eminently sensible, and will find, I am sure, many sympathetic readers for her always interesting Cabinet of Wonders blog. I have taken the liberty of reproducing it here, but I urge you to visit her wunderkammer, as you may wish to add to her list, and explore the many other marvels her blog contains.

- I will make things myself sometimes even if it ends up being more expensive and odd.
- I will not do the dishes until there is a full load.
- When inspiration strikes, I will write down the idea, regardless of where I am and how stupid and/or rude it makes me look.
- I will have breakfast for dinner sometimes.
- I will let the house go to hell while I read a great novel.
- I will have parties even if I can't afford it.
- I will be poor so I can squander time.
- I will buy balloons, flowers, or ice cream for no reason, with whatever change I have in my pocket.
- I will procrastinate, especially if it means that lightning has time to strike and make the end result more brilliant.
- I will bring home huge boxes from work so I can make forts with my children.
- I will drop everything when I'm sick (bugger everything else).
- I will do impractical things that make me happy, like keeping chickens and a garden in the city.
- I will always be late if it means not yelling at anyone.
- I will find any reason to dress up, just because I like to.
- I will continue using and teaching real-world skills, like making bread or sewing, even though they are outdated and unnecessary at the moment.
- I will not stop creating, even if no one ever buys my creations (in my case, writing).
- I will continue to make puns, even if it makes others groan.
- I will sing, because singing should be part of life, even if it's terrible (especially if it's terrible).
- And lastly, I will always, always, choose being silly over being cool, because silliness is much cooler in the long run, anyway.

Eyelashes restored

Ladies, whose bright eyes
Rain influence, and judge the prize.

Tis a small thing, a hair on the lid of a tinie eye. But it frames the windows of an infinite soul.

Thank you, Osprey, eyelash malfunction resolved. And thank you Dandellion for your kind suggestion which I shall consider when next I go to market.

A question...

After a year and a half in Second Life I am still bothered by a matter I have never brought myself to raise, because my time with my friends is so rare I durst not waste a moment on a trifle.

My eyelashes are white. I suspect it is a part of me that has escaped my curse and aged in spite of the rest of me, but it may simply be a setting or a piece of the skin template I never discovered , though not for want of looking.

I would not mind, excepting it gives me a surprised look in some pictures, and an arch look of superiority in others. I should be happy to change it, if any can tell me how.