virtually there

That is me, stepping over cyber rats and heading off for flying lessons in my Second Life. As if counting changes in this world were not enough, prodded by an article I read in the current issue of the MIT Technology Review, I took off in search of thrills in the emerging Metaverse.

If you have a second life already, the MIT Technology Review site has hints on how to access the “places” discussed in the article. As if didn’t have enough trouble navigating this world, now we have to contended with staking claim in pixelland…..

And, by the looks of the economic statistics of Second life residents, if you want to become the next Donald Trump you better get yourself over there and start investing in land, lest all the good plots should be gone.

UPDATED: Hmm, I guess the interesting thing about hanging out in Second Life so far has been the average age of the avatars — which I would put around 22. Of course, it’s quite telling that though I chose a “mature” body for my avatar originally, thinking that it was time to populate the virtual world with the variety of shapes and ages that this world has, even if most 22-year-old people in this world tend to notice those over 50 only if they need money or some other favor from them…

And yet, when I unleashed my avatar, she went into the second world with more angles and fewer years in her face than the one who pulls her invisible strings with the click of the mouse from this world.

going green has some seeing red

Well, the Marin County Planning Commission approved plans for that modular “green” home in Novato that was the focus of resistance from the united front of the entire neighborhood. I wrote about his issue before here and how the objections found their expression in an appeal to a unity of style and tradition as if these were the natural given aspect of space. Quite apart from the associations that “modular” or “pre-fab” might have had on the imaginations of the objecting neighbors, there is probably a deeper resistance here than the one expressed in concerns for aesthetic unity, that power to arrest the eye, or the gaze, at the surface of things.

I am no philosopher, or psychologist — and my cultural theorizing abilities have lost a lot of muscle mass — but it seems to me that these neighbors are afflicted with a special case of agoraphobia. To object, as the lone dissenting planning commissioner did, on the grounds that it is inconsistent with the countywide plan to place “a square house into an elongated lot,” is to be haunted by a fear of tracklessness, of an open space in which appearances (in all senses of that word) are arbitrary and immediate, or not mediated. All of which means menacing to order and the status quo.

It’s one thing to declare that one is mindful of ecology by getting into a big boxy SVU and driving on long, straight roads and freeways through long tracts cleared of trees to squares filled with big boxy buildings to buy some organic fruit flown in from Argentina, but quite another to mind the meaning of what one of the homeowners of this “square” house says:

“We can no longer afford to be myopic in defense of community,” Kristi Cohen said. “Whether it comes to building houses or buying cars, everything we do has a ripple effect on each and every one of us.”

Indeed, it is the idea of community that is such a threat here, I believe. Of a make-believe community, that is. One held together by geometry, rather than human interaction.

The neighbors who object on stylistic grounds (ha, sorry for the pun!) share the kind of space that is to be found from coast to coast in the more exclusive suburbs in the US, with hardly much variation in shape, save for the kind of trees lining the streets. These communities in appearance are about as mass-market as it can get, at least when it comes to the shape we give to the borders between our private and public spaces. It is ironic then, that these neighbors should have “balked at the idea of a factory-built home.”

Notes:  The notion of agoraphobia as a fear of tracklessness comes from Paul Carter’s “Repressed Spaces: The Poetics of Agoraphobia.”

cultivating the soul

The whole educative thrust of yoga is to make things go right in our lives. But we all know that an apple that appears perfect on the outside can have been eaten away by an invisible worm on the inside. Yoga is not about appearances. It is about finding and eradicating the worm, so that the whole apple, from skin inward, can be perfect and a healthy one. That is why yoga, indeed all spiritual philosophies, seems to harp on the negative — grasping desires, weaknesses, faults, and imbalances. They are trying to catch the worm before it devours and corrupts the whole apple from the inside. This not a struggle between good and evil. It is natural for worms to eat apples. In yoga we simply do not want to be the apple that is rotted from the inside. So yoga insists on examining, scientifically and without value judgment, what can go wrong, and why, and how to stop it. It is organic farming of the self — for the Self. — Light on Life, by B. K. S. Iyengar.

Where I live, organic farming is not only a big business, but also a matter of pride. I think that in Iyengar’s terms, that pride is just another name for the worm that gets fat on ont he fruit of so much labor.

the wee in the we

Hydragenic has a post inspired by quote from that old standby “Robert M Pirsig’s 1974 masterpiece Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance,” in which the idea that an expansion (or, rather, deepening) of knowledge brings about greater distances between individuals and so frays the fabric, or the common thread, of community.

If I understand it right, Hydragenic looks at this quote in the terms of the challenges that face us in expressing our many selves and at the same time recognize our commonality (or is it communality?) in the increasing circles of communities we are part of as a result of the information age. I did leave a comment on his post, but alas, I don’t it registered. This is what I said:

Lots of fascinating ideas in your post to consider. Seems to me that the Internet made admittance to many communities a lot easier, lowering the bar through technology. And yet, not only do many of these communities lack depth for which they make up in “width” or linkeages), but also, maintaining them, I think, takes a lot more effort — strangely enough when one considers the ease of technology for access to them.

Indeed, I am beginning to think that some of the strains associated with all this social networking and blogging-as-conevrastions and such has to do with that lack of the “mainstream” Hydrengic refers to in his comment. Being linked to is not the same as being a member of… But then, being linked to can be measured, and that confers another type of membership in a community, such as ranking on technorati, for example.

My old blog, which I had abandoned recently, but long enough to measure in centuries in Internet terms, still ranks pretty high on technorati, only because years ago, an A-lister linked to it.

It’s only recently that I am stating to understand why I decided to stop that blog. I started it because I was in search of community, more than in search of a platform for expressing my selves. I found the community through it, but maintaining that community through that blog no longer seemed feasible.

UPDATE:

I must have been thinking of Hydragenic’s post still as I read an article on the baby-name business in today’s Wall Street Journal. This passage from the article more than supports Hydragenic’s analysis and the lengths some will go to express themselves without having to rely for understanding on a common frame of reference:

“Celebrities (think Apple Martin, Shiloh Jolie-Pitt and Pilot Inspektor Riesgraf-Lee) are helping drive up the pressure. And the growing brand consciousness among consumers has made parents more aware of how names can shape perceptions. The result: a child’s name has become an emblem of individual taste more than a reflection of family traditions or cultural values. “We live in a marketing-oriented society,” says Bruce Lansky, a former advertising executive and author of eight books on baby names, including “100,000+Baby Names.” “People who understand branding know that when you pick the right name, you’re giving your child a head start.”[emphasis added]

Not to mention the business that this branding anxiety has spawned: baby-name consultants. Like the numerologist who for $475 analyzed a name for its vibes.

small dog, big byte

Yule Heibel has a great post on what it means to be “authentic” and “local” on the one hand and also global in the full sense of that term on the other. I was thinking along the same lines (though with less Frankfurt-school flavorings then Yule’s well-reasoned and seasoned piece) as I was contemplating a small paragraph in a story in our local paper about feuding neighbors. As feuds between neighbors go, this went as local as it gets. With a spitting distance between fences, one would assume that the focus of the fight and resolution would be of the same short focal length…. And yet, when one neighbor slashed the throat of the other neighbor’s little dog, the blood spilled in a widening arc, defying the laws of physics. That’s because the bereaved neighbor turned to the Internet with cunning to meet the brute force and so bring about local change:

Bricknell advertised a petition on the Internet site Craigslit, urging the court to give Guarduno the maximum sentence. More than 4,000 animal lovers throughout the nation have signed it.

Whether this petition made a difference in the judge’s ruling (or the man’s previous issues with the law), the fact is that he remains in custody in lieu of $100,000 bail. Sure, this piece was front-page news in our local paper, above the fold, too, but as far as the Internet as a tool for strengthening the local goes it’s hardly a whimper.

when it gets old

The sole survivor of the previous generation in my family celebrated a big birthday today: the 85th. Since we live contents apart, a phone call had to do, instead of festivities and such fanfare. Just as well, since the person in question spent the better part of the conversation complaining about the horrors of years having piled up. As if the years were trains hurtling deeper into the country of night, with everything and everyone this person has known back at the station and along various legs of the journey, long left behind…. In sight, only the train wreck that’s to come. In the mood this person was in, I didn’t think it wise to mention the 78-year-old woman in my yoga class who not only works and travels, but also keeps up with us all in the class, including hanging upside down for long periods of time.

Then again, how am I to truly understand the loneliness this person suffers, in spite of those anger-fueled rants at time and its unmeasured indifference to us? Seems that my relative was not the only one showing less than the best behavior for the occasion….

Can we choose to face old age with the dignity and lightness we envision as we contemplate the still-far years beyond (let’s say) 80, or has this already been chosen for us?

don’t go fencelss in this ‘burb

You gotta love the local rags, because some of them really do get the news about the future of newspapers. One of these is the Marin Independent Journal. Take today’s issue, for example. On the front page, above the fold and in letters the size of the masthead title is this “Neighbors See Red Over ‘Green’ Home.“

Seems that a couple in Novato decided to build an energy-efficient home, to the delight of county planning officials. In fact, the efficiency bit involves even the construction itself, as part of the house will be assembled in a factory, thereby reducing both construction time and the wear and tear that goes on with a construction site. The neighbors, however, “hate it.” In their eyes, or what they can see from behind the “white picket fence,” is a threat to the “traditional” neighborhood, not to mention to their property values. Not that the area we are talking about has both the charm and architectural tradition of a Tuscan village…. still, the neighbors in this county so fierce about its reputation as a trend setter want nothing more than to fiercely hold on to the status quo.

Ironically, the second section of the paper, dedicated to things Marin, features another series of complaints by neighbors. This neighborhood, being Belvedere, is as upscale as it gets. Here the dispute concerns the effects of construction staging on views….

Underlying this piece, literally, is the one about Marin’s homeless population.

I do believe the editors of the Marin IJ have a great sense of humor!

“while we are young”

[UPDATED on June 17, 2007, but written on June 14] … it’s the day of days, the one that is the anchor of hopes and disappointments to come … the last day of high school (which, for some, might last a lifetime, or, if not, at least long enough to get VC funding for shifting paradigms without a foundation of knowledge or a net of wider reference, like the way paradigms used to shift before Web 2 made immediacy into the new currency of need….)

barless

Where did that previous post of mine, recently updated, go? Maybe it took off to prove the point and argue with Shelley that women and “beautiful code” rarely should mix in polite company….

Seems that in my effort to keep up with the young ones, I edited it into the future….

informal ways to save the planet

Our neighbors to the north decided to heat things up by telling their government workers to lose the pinstripe suits this summer in favor of sweating in casuals at the office.

The premier of Canada’s most energy-thirsty province has urged government workers to dress down and leave their business attire at home to cut air conditioning costs and lower greenhouse gas emissions.

“We’re asking everyone to do their part to protect the environment,” Premier Dalton McGuinty said in a news release on the go-casual recommendation, which will be in effect through early September.

Who knows what other unintended consequences such dressing down could bring into the world of work? I bet not to many U.S. companies are willing to gamble to find out.