Sometime this weekend, I'd really like to do some vidcapping of me playing Spectre VR (still a rediscovered obsession!). Don't know if I'll get 'round to it, but better to make a commitment to the whole world instead of forgetting.

Some Torleys have been asking others when the core (Photography Unit) will get back to taking pictures for Snapzilla. The current adventures stop at #5,000, but it's not the end. It was nice to end on a round number but the timing worked out that way. I'm counting on rippleshock—one of those mysterious forces governing the better parts of my lives (another one, partially, is kern turning)—to pull me back in. In the meantime, such an enriching and varied photostream from a rising tide of contributors to enjoy.

Related, I severely recommend checking out the Best of Snapzilla books (thanx 3pointD for the coverage!)—two volumes—that Cristiano Midnight has passionately put together after so many memories, a visual chronicle of Second Life's history. The web version is here. (I've had pictures selected multiple times.) I can only wonder what actual coffee table installments would look like?

Lately I've been thinking of avatar puppeteering in Second Life: it reminds me of the difference between a musical sampler playing back "snapshots" of frozen sound, as opposed to physical modeling which has oodles of intriguing applications, many of them not explored, nor deployed in pop hits. (And I bet, one of the reasons why the Yamaha MU100R remains a relatively unappreciated gem. Almost a decade old, still golden.) So right now, we play loops, we trigger dances, we can do a great many things playing back these "snapshots" which are essentially like standing in motion (a Yannism). But then, when we can actually impose (not my choice of hard word) more flexibility onto our onscreen forms, and start to jiggle a wrist there, or wiggle an elbow there—we get nervous twitching without much effort! And the few deliberate twitch anims that've caught my eye—some of Stella Trenchmouth's readily come to mind—have already proved impressive.

When I lay down words, it's like reflective tiles that look different depending on which angle you view them from. Not unlike shiny. Walking over the tiles, you get mirror images of different things in the room. Maybe like those expensive car paints that get all changey when they cross the corner.

My Microsoft Comfort Curve 2000 keyboard is holding up, and pleasantly clacky. I remember being in the computer store and just running my fingertips over a lot of the demo models, and not feeling very good on the higher-priced ones. The Logitech G15, for all its fancy LCD-ness, felt really stiff and clunky. Numerous other Microsoft key actions were unsatisfactory too—what is up with that? I even prod at my Digital Media Pro keyboard, which is still more expensive than this Comfort Curve, and it feels awful in comparison. And to think I was on that brute for so long, with the mushy response. Amazing what a difference a few angles and low-profile action can make. (I thought the Comfort Curve 2000 would cost a lot more due to its seemingly unorthodox design… it almost looks elastic.)

As you can guess, that picture's what shampoo I use.