Cartoon in the Louvre

Things are things, there's no doubt about it. And things in moderation are usually alright. Things to the extreme are usually harmful, or, in a worst-case scenario, really stupid.

The stupidest thing I've come across lately is the painful need of people to talk in absolutes. Examples abound in your own head, I would guess, but let me illustrate some fine examples: "omgz that's the best!!", "I feel you completely!!", "you're the best!", "I have the best friends!", "This weekend was perfect!"

I know you've heard things like this, cuz, you know, UR THE BEST. Proclamation without elaboration. A cartoon in the Louvre.

A statement that says, 'please like me because I am making a definitive effort to make it sound like I like you!', or in the alternative, 'please see how gregarious, happy and peace-filled that I am!' Where we may part company is that, when I hear something like this, I automatically and without reservation think it's bullshit. Like the bloke you don't know who insists on puncuating his speech with 'trust me', it's used-carsalesman philosophy. Say it enough and it must be true.

Admittedly, some of my negative feelings about this absolutism is that I am unable to do it. I can't get away with latex boots in real life, so it is my natural inclination to dislike latex boots. I also can't get away with Burberry scarves and... well, the list goes on. But I digress. I find myself absolutely unable to absolutely think anything is the best. Even when I look at myself, I can only consider myself the best I can be at the moment - there's always room for exploration, development and maturity. The world is almost infinite with possibility and promise; to label something the best would bring any journey to an end.

And I'm afraid I just don't want to end any journey just yet. Why are so many people so anxious to?

On a related note, I'm not all that fond of people who send me emails asking me questions and ending with 'thanks', as if I've done what they've asked already. In fact, in my journo-world, 'thanks' does not mean thanks at all anymore; it rather means 'I'm ending my email now.' Does that make sense? Thanks.

Brutal E-Youth

I do confess I often stoop to the disdain for newbies that baffled me when I was new.



In the old days of my newbiedom, when guilty of little more than not knowing how to walk [or perhaps having expertise in running just into the side of a doorway], I would flounder just long enough to incur the wrath of someone who had been in the game for a long time - especially if there was a group around to impress. I would take all the insults, then slink off to derisive laughter and a chorus of insulting wav files.



"What are they being so uptight about?" I would think to myself, but I kept otherwise silent. Standing face to face with a Borg-looking dominatrix with wings, while I had little remarkable about myself than a jerky walk that made me look like I had early-stage Parkinson's, did not suggest there would be a good ending to any fight. Plus, I had the foresight to realize there was much I did not know - and as I discovered guns, orbiters, distorters and the like, I realized I was correct - so to engage with a person of experience could be up the ante on the Humiliate-o-meter.

But to flash forward, I do, as I said, occaisionally snipe at newbies in the same manner (sans the nasty wav files, which I've never gotten into). Perhaps this is just a reflection of my school days (and probably yours), where the upperclassmen always took the piss over a juniorclassman and his ignorance of the way things were. Or a reflection of my current job as a freelancer, which is its own little irate community in and of itself, with people with a hundred articles published or feeds drawn on tend to snarl a bit at those with only ten or are just starting out.

In truth, I am aware of this rather silly habit of mine, and try to temper it with at least some good advice (ie, 'buy some shoes, no one want to smell your feet') so I don't come off as horrible as those who picked on me. I hope this softens the blow for my muppet-looking victims, and isn't just a justification in my own mind to be a twat.

RL and SL: Escapism or Extension?

In some ways, Second Life is a simple form of escapism, a way to explore one's more adventurous or dark corners - at least that's the more accepted psychology behind it. I suspect at times that, instead of escapism, SL actually commands one to be oneself - only to the nth degree, as if the virtual world lends license to make oneself into a caricature of oneself. A 3-D parody, if you will.

I would be hesitant to completely dismiss the 'escapism' theory, but I would put forward that escapism blends too easily with rationalization.

I have a good mate on SL called Beth who, in real life ("RL"), is seeing a married bloke and has been seeing him for several years. The two of them share anniversaries and money, like a real couple, only without the 'real' or the 'couple' bits. In RL, her man often begs off seeing her, as he has a real family to attend to. As in any relationship borne out of deception, there are trust issues galore. Is he seeing someone else? Will he find someone new? Is he telling the truth? As a veteran of that kind of arrangement, I know you can't get past trust issues. If the foundation of a relationship is a betrayal, then one can hardly hope for anything not tainted by some sort of distortion.

Beth and her man are on SL as well. They owned a club for a while, even (his idea, her money - which seems to be a trend). I visited there once at the behest of another girl, Candy, who was a dancer there. Beth's man, who was also present, almost immediately instant-messaged me, hoping he and I could spend some, ahem, quality time together.

Months later, Beth and I had a cup of virtual coffee and she told me she was concerned about her man seeing someone else behind her back. I was sympathetic, as she was quite upset, but I really just wanted to shake her and say, 'what do you expect, really?' Beth is a sweet girl and a kind soul, but somewhere along the way, she found it acceptable to be The Other Woman. Her bid to the The Main Woman in SL doesn't seem to have been too successful. Anyway, she asked for my help, and I suggested I simply talk to her man and see if he makes a move, and then take pictures of whatever followed. She didn't go for that - she didn't want to anger him. I think, rather, she didn't want it proven that she's dating a jerk. No girl does, really, certainly if such a revelation would involve witnesses.

Beth wanted me to chat up this mysterious other woman, and I agreed. I went to her island, or sim, but never saw her apart from a guy who Beth suspected was an alternative avatar of her man. Bit complicated, eh? So I haven't talked to the woman - and am unsure if I will. The cuts in RL have bled into SL, and there's little relief I could offer.

And then I look at me. How much is my SL persona just a continuation, or cartoon, of my real self? And how do I like being my own parody?

So I Had This Black Bloke Once

So I had this black bloke once. I thought it would be a bit of a giggle; something outside the box, so to speak; a new perspective; an adventure. I certainly didn't think we would wind up crooning 'Ebony and Ivory' at the Lost Gardens of Apollo, but I thought it would be an interesting experiment nonetheless.

Instead, sex with him was like being trapped in a 1970s blaxploitation film. Seriously, I have not been called a bitch, whore and slut with such frequency since high school (and then only by my fellow bitter girlfriends). I gave up the idea of rubbing one out and instead just watched in amazement as his hyperbole drove past Dirty and detoured to Vile. My favourite, or least favourite, comment was "I gonna make you preg cum bank." Hello. Well, I'll give this to my nubian prince; I've never quite heard that line before. In addition to the fairly ugly idea of being a human sperm bank, I have yet to view possible pregnancy as a turn-on.

Generally, even if I am not into a bloke, which is surprisingly often, I do encourage him to finish, as it were. However, with the inticement of becoming in the 'family way', I just could not resist the urge to coo in response, 'so you're going to pay for it?'

'what?'

'the abortion'

'huh?'

'or would you rather just knock me up and then leave me to raise our little mulatto wonder on my own?'

'what?'

Etc. Now, I'm a decent fan of SL sex, to be honest. It's rather like creating your own pornographic film, with a decent balance of objectifying and cooperation. And, like creating a pornographic film, I take care to view it as a job - meaning, I never risk emotional connection. But I've not been a fan of stereotypes. And have yet to be in a situation, SL or RL, that I will tolerate it.

-Madelyn