Caught myself doing something quite bizarre the other day – something that only goes to underline the inescapable, yet inexplicable links between our rl and sl consciousness. Either that, or it’s further evidence that i’m slowly, but inexorably, going barking mad!
Here in Britland, we’ve been experiencing something of a heatwave – rather a novelty, since we’ve only just made the transition from a deluge of veritable biblical proportions – pretty much the sum total of the British Summer to date.
You can’t beat a proper Brit heatwave for bringing a profusion of pasty white bodies onto the streets, in various states of undress, that in polite society should really never see the light of day, particularly since, within a short space of time those very same bodies will have turned a rather fetching shade of lobster pink.
i am not one of those people! – Which isn’t to say that i don’t ever make the odd concession to the fine weather – which, in the strange setting that passes for the world i inhabit, as for so many of us, also finds its expression within sl.
Out come the summer frocks, sunglasses and floppy hats – out go the winter clothes to languish in their inventory folders until the colder weather… all of which is, of course, totally unnecessary and might even be considered a little odd, if you think about it too hard. (i’m curious – do people in Skyrim or WoW substitute their heavy winter armour for skimpy summer versions when the sun comes out, or is this just an sl phenomenon?)
A change of wardrobe isn’t in itself a particular sign of madness – a significant proportion of sl residents habitually adopt this very practice. Market forces have their influence too, as designers bring out their summer collections, encouraging us to shop as the seasons change, so it’s not all that surprising to see these annual changes in styles.
That’s perfectly ok – but can you take the illusion a bit too far?
Erm… maybe! Take the recent occasion that i logged in and settled down to the serious business of everyday sl. After 15 minutes or so, the realisation of what i was up to on the screen in front of me dawned, and i found myself framing the question ‘what on earth are you doing?’. it’s a rather surreal feeling when you suddenly become conscious that for a good 10 minutes you’ve been doing something completely nonsensical. In this case, mowing the virtual grass in a virtual garden, with a virtual lawnmower.
Yep, having donned my gardening rucksack, stuffed with plant pots, seeds and fertiliser, i’d then proceeded to tackle that stubborn patch of grass that will insist on growing across the pathway… out came the mower, and off i went. i should mention that this wasn’t simply a case of letting a built-in animation do all the work – nope, there i was, studiously plodding back and forth across the verdant sward.
With the best will in the world, it was a thankless task: A virtual mower wasn’t going to achieve anything against the patch of virtual grass – no matter how much i pushed and pulled, that grass was going to continue to keep growing!
The thought occurred to me that my actions were, at the very least, questionable, and quite possibly could be considered to be concrete evidence that i’m finally losing the thread!
There you have it. i’m told that one of the signs of madness is the inability to distinguish reality from fantasy. By that measure, at least, i’m probably ready to book myself into a hotel with a nice comfy padded room, (size medium backwards pyjamas, please!)… but maybe not just yet: i’ve still got those roses to prune!
Walking on velvet green. Scots pine growing.
Isn’t it rare to be taking the air, singing.
Walking on velvet green.
Jethro Tull – Velvet Green