What do you know? Bitching about the problem seems to have fixed it!
Saturday, June 9, 2007
Arrgh!
Written 8 June, 2007
Arrgh!
For some reason, Blogger is moving the side elements to the bottom of the page. I've replaced the template HTML with the original source code from Blogger, but to no avail.
Blogger tells me sometimes an element of either the posts or the sidebars will make this happen, but I've been unable to resolve it. I tried to temporary remove my last round of postings by saving them s drafts, but they stayed up.
Arrgh!
I'm hoping the problem isn't the Google Analytics code I pasted in a couple of weeks ago. I can't even FIND that code.
Arrgh!
Arrgh!
For some reason, Blogger is moving the side elements to the bottom of the page. I've replaced the template HTML with the original source code from Blogger, but to no avail.
Blogger tells me sometimes an element of either the posts or the sidebars will make this happen, but I've been unable to resolve it. I tried to temporary remove my last round of postings by saving them s drafts, but they stayed up.
Arrgh!
I'm hoping the problem isn't the Google Analytics code I pasted in a couple of weeks ago. I can't even FIND that code.
Arrgh!
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
Paris 1900: VII. Bonus Photos
Paris 1900
VII. Bonus Photos
Merry-Go-Round
Running Along the Bottom of the Sea
Paris 1900: VI. We Do Windows
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| Mordecai's House. Get Your Vote In! |
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| Clear Windows |
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| Change Window Script Working in Several Windows |
Written 4 June, 2007
Paris 1900
VI: We Do Windows
I was anxious to see the Moulin Rouge, but Mordecai was understandable eager to try out his little steamboat, so Sweetie and I jumped to Caledon, where we tried unsucsessfully to hitch a ride. (Note to Mordecai, who is one of the few who reads this blog: I noticed the boat was 29 prims. I think the limit for a moveable vehicle is 30, so with the driver in it, there’s no room for anyone else. If the boat is moddable, you can surgically remove a prim and you should be able to take a passenger. You may need to add a sit pose.)
Then we zipped up to Mordecai’s new house in the sky, which looks either like a short dumbell or two testicles on a popsicle stick (not sure which, readers’ comments appreciated). All kidding aside, it’s a stunningly built set of 28-meter spheres, very steampunk-appropriate.
Sweetie, who is the Absolute Mistress of Changeable Windows, showed Mordecai how to set up his many windows (there are about 200) to allow texture changes to the outside, so the windows can be made opaque to passers-by. Finally, it was working, and Sweetie and I left Mordecai happily putting scripts into window prims and headed back to beautiful Pele to make whoopie.
It had been another satisfactory night in Second Life
Paris 1900
VI: We Do Windows
I was anxious to see the Moulin Rouge, but Mordecai was understandable eager to try out his little steamboat, so Sweetie and I jumped to Caledon, where we tried unsucsessfully to hitch a ride. (Note to Mordecai, who is one of the few who reads this blog: I noticed the boat was 29 prims. I think the limit for a moveable vehicle is 30, so with the driver in it, there’s no room for anyone else. If the boat is moddable, you can surgically remove a prim and you should be able to take a passenger. You may need to add a sit pose.)
Then we zipped up to Mordecai’s new house in the sky, which looks either like a short dumbell or two testicles on a popsicle stick (not sure which, readers’ comments appreciated). All kidding aside, it’s a stunningly built set of 28-meter spheres, very steampunk-appropriate.
Sweetie, who is the Absolute Mistress of Changeable Windows, showed Mordecai how to set up his many windows (there are about 200) to allow texture changes to the outside, so the windows can be made opaque to passers-by. Finally, it was working, and Sweetie and I left Mordecai happily putting scripts into window prims and headed back to beautiful Pele to make whoopie.
It had been another satisfactory night in Second Life
Paris 1900: V. Extra Shots
Written 6 June, 2007
Paris 1900
V. Extra Shots
Brother Scaggs Preaching
Sister Palisades Accompanying on Pipe Organ
Merry-go-Round
Paris 1900: IV. Notre Dame
Written 4 June, 2007
Paris 1900
Part IV: Notre Dame
I was spotting areas that looked decidedly Rive Droit and decidedly Rive Gauche (I especially love the Left Bank; there are no Burger Kings there, or at least there weren’t the last time I was in France). But Paris’ famous river was conspicuously missing.
I thought that was inseine.
Eventually I spotted Notre Dame, which of course, straddles the river, way the hell out in the ocean on a sim corner.
What was it doing out there? Being built so it could be transported later?
Who knows? But there is was, far in the distance.
I scanned the base of the small island on which the cathedral sat; the walls were vertical, and there seemed to be no way up (remember, no fly).
I was telling Sweetie and Mordecai in chat I would heroically undertake the long undersea journey and teleport them if I found a way up, but before I could hit enter, they were already underwater, running toward the sim corner.
What the hell! I hit CTRL-R and newbie-ran after them.
When I reached the base of the island, I tried walking up the vertical walls. No dice.
“Ha, ha, I’m inside!” This from Sweetie.
She’s getting REALLY GOOD at camera control.
Mordecai and I tiled our cameras up and sat at one of the many benches, and we were inside, too.
Take that, you no-fly French bastards!
The cathedral was stunningly done. The flying buttresses characteristic of gothic architecture were nicely made, although I thought a better Rose window texture was needed.
Before long we were holding an impromptu Mass, with Cheyenne on the organ and Brother Scaggs at the pulpit and Sweetie shouting Halleluiah and waving her arms and speaking in tongues. It was no doubt the first Holy Roller service ever performed in Notre Dame.
After exploring the cathedral, we hit a couple of Rive Droit shops, where Mordecai bought a steampunk boat (think “The African Queen”) and I bought two gowns that Sweetie found too common. “But they’ll look good on you, she said. “Everything looks good on you.”
And it does!
Paris 1900
Part IV: Notre Dame
I was spotting areas that looked decidedly Rive Droit and decidedly Rive Gauche (I especially love the Left Bank; there are no Burger Kings there, or at least there weren’t the last time I was in France). But Paris’ famous river was conspicuously missing.
I thought that was inseine.
Eventually I spotted Notre Dame, which of course, straddles the river, way the hell out in the ocean on a sim corner.
What was it doing out there? Being built so it could be transported later?
Who knows? But there is was, far in the distance.
I scanned the base of the small island on which the cathedral sat; the walls were vertical, and there seemed to be no way up (remember, no fly).
I was telling Sweetie and Mordecai in chat I would heroically undertake the long undersea journey and teleport them if I found a way up, but before I could hit enter, they were already underwater, running toward the sim corner.
What the hell! I hit CTRL-R and newbie-ran after them.
When I reached the base of the island, I tried walking up the vertical walls. No dice.
“Ha, ha, I’m inside!” This from Sweetie.
She’s getting REALLY GOOD at camera control.
Mordecai and I tiled our cameras up and sat at one of the many benches, and we were inside, too.
Take that, you no-fly French bastards!
The cathedral was stunningly done. The flying buttresses characteristic of gothic architecture were nicely made, although I thought a better Rose window texture was needed.
Before long we were holding an impromptu Mass, with Cheyenne on the organ and Brother Scaggs at the pulpit and Sweetie shouting Halleluiah and waving her arms and speaking in tongues. It was no doubt the first Holy Roller service ever performed in Notre Dame.
After exploring the cathedral, we hit a couple of Rive Droit shops, where Mordecai bought a steampunk boat (think “The African Queen”) and I bought two gowns that Sweetie found too common. “But they’ll look good on you, she said. “Everything looks good on you.”
And it does!
Paris 1900: III. Eiffel Tower
Written 6 June, 2007
Eiffel Tower
Compare these images of Paris 1900 and my photos of the real thing.
Paris 1900: II. Real and Virtual Moulin Rouge
Written 6 June, 2007
Paris 1900
II: Real and Virtual Moulin Rouge
There was a little museum of sorts just inside the Moulin Rouge. Compare these two images.
Paris 1900: I. La Tour d'Eiffel
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| Prim Sidewalk Artist in the Metro |
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| High Prim Count Here! |
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| Photo Shoot Outside the Moulin Rouge |
Written 4 June, 2007
Paris 1900
I: La Tour d’Eiffel
Sweetie and Mordecai and I had a grand time Saturday evening (well, it was the wee hours for my brother M.).
I suggested we go to Paris 1900, a sim about which I’d heard. That was okay with Mordecai. Sweetie asked if there were shops there.
“Fabulous fin de siecle haute couture,” I told her, lying, for all I knew, my ass off.
We materialized in a subway station that was complete with a prim statue of a graffiti artist. After we determined the train was there for show and not for go, we walked up a long flight of steps to exit the Metro.
I was stunned at the promenade onto which we emerged. There, ahead of us, was the Moulin Rouge! We walked along, passing a little green ornament (“267 prims!” gasped Sweetie) and an assortment of turn-of-the-century automobiles. (“Hmmph!” I scoffed. “These contraptions will never amount to anything!”)
After a fast portrait, we turned our attention to the buildings. The outside of the Moulin Rouge was plastered with replicas of posters by Toulouse Lautrec. I was eager to go inside and get a glass of absinthe, replete with wormwood, but by then we had all spotted that ornament of Paris, the newly completed Eiffel Tower.
Sweetie immediately went into a builder’s haze. She was away in a flash, with Mordecai close behind. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I’m sure they were hazy, too.
I took to the air to follow them—or, rather, I tried. No fly zone.
I HATE no fly zones.
I tried to rez a cube to sit on so I could drag it after them. No build zone.
I HATE no build zones.
I tried to rez a nonphysical shield on which I could sit. No script zone.
I HATE no script zones.
What, people couldn’t fly in 1900? Couldn’t build? Couldn’t script?
Those damn French!
And so I walked after them. I refused to run, for I don’t have a sexy run and I can’t stand to see myself in a newbie waddling gallop. But I eventually caught up with the them.
The tower was humongous, disappearing into the clouds. And the view from the base, looking up, paralleled the real experience, which I have been fortunate enough to have had maybe twenty times in my life.
“Low prim,” Sweetie said exultantly. “The girders are all textures.”
We teleported to the first platform, and then the second, which was the highest on this version of the tower (there are three levels in Paris 2007). There we found a machine that gave out free parachutes (Terra Chute 2.0). I slid on the Terra Chute 2.3 I bought a long time ago at Abbott’s Aerodrome, which requires arming and manual opening, and jumped. Sweetie, who hit the ground before me, took a great snapshot.
My landing was great, just feet from Sweetie—but my second jump wasn’t nearly so good. It seems the tower is on the border of four sims, and when I crossed one of the sim borders, Second Life weirdness threw me off the tower. I landed on the pavement in a pool of blood (a grisly feature of Terra Chute 2.3).
Still, what better place to die than Fin de Siecle Paris?
Just ask Oscar Wilde.
Paris 1900
I: La Tour d’Eiffel
Sweetie and Mordecai and I had a grand time Saturday evening (well, it was the wee hours for my brother M.).
I suggested we go to Paris 1900, a sim about which I’d heard. That was okay with Mordecai. Sweetie asked if there were shops there.
“Fabulous fin de siecle haute couture,” I told her, lying, for all I knew, my ass off.
We materialized in a subway station that was complete with a prim statue of a graffiti artist. After we determined the train was there for show and not for go, we walked up a long flight of steps to exit the Metro.
I was stunned at the promenade onto which we emerged. There, ahead of us, was the Moulin Rouge! We walked along, passing a little green ornament (“267 prims!” gasped Sweetie) and an assortment of turn-of-the-century automobiles. (“Hmmph!” I scoffed. “These contraptions will never amount to anything!”)
After a fast portrait, we turned our attention to the buildings. The outside of the Moulin Rouge was plastered with replicas of posters by Toulouse Lautrec. I was eager to go inside and get a glass of absinthe, replete with wormwood, but by then we had all spotted that ornament of Paris, the newly completed Eiffel Tower.
Sweetie immediately went into a builder’s haze. She was away in a flash, with Mordecai close behind. I couldn’t see his eyes, but I’m sure they were hazy, too.
I took to the air to follow them—or, rather, I tried. No fly zone.
I HATE no fly zones.
I tried to rez a cube to sit on so I could drag it after them. No build zone.
I HATE no build zones.
I tried to rez a nonphysical shield on which I could sit. No script zone.
I HATE no script zones.
What, people couldn’t fly in 1900? Couldn’t build? Couldn’t script?
Those damn French!
And so I walked after them. I refused to run, for I don’t have a sexy run and I can’t stand to see myself in a newbie waddling gallop. But I eventually caught up with the them.
The tower was humongous, disappearing into the clouds. And the view from the base, looking up, paralleled the real experience, which I have been fortunate enough to have had maybe twenty times in my life.
“Low prim,” Sweetie said exultantly. “The girders are all textures.”
We teleported to the first platform, and then the second, which was the highest on this version of the tower (there are three levels in Paris 2007). There we found a machine that gave out free parachutes (Terra Chute 2.0). I slid on the Terra Chute 2.3 I bought a long time ago at Abbott’s Aerodrome, which requires arming and manual opening, and jumped. Sweetie, who hit the ground before me, took a great snapshot.
My landing was great, just feet from Sweetie—but my second jump wasn’t nearly so good. It seems the tower is on the border of four sims, and when I crossed one of the sim borders, Second Life weirdness threw me off the tower. I landed on the pavement in a pool of blood (a grisly feature of Terra Chute 2.3).
Still, what better place to die than Fin de Siecle Paris?
Just ask Oscar Wilde.
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