Everybody needs a purpose, called Raisins of Etre. Prolly a French thing, they always say things, sounds real nice and smooth, but it makes no sense, like they're speaking another language. Yet I got a Raisin, and that’s the important thing.
See, you dodge about the Opensim or the Closedsim and there’s all these males what stand around and look intimidatingish, like bulky muscles and extra jewelry, frequently coupled with a suspiciously large bulge-setting in the pants, if I’m not being too subtle. Someone got a little crazy with a cheap and easy slider and shoved it way past 50 into the Quite-A-Sense-of-Humor zone. A lot of them are tougher-looking-bald too; I sez get yourself the right dog groomer and stop being so cheap. The good ones have the nice smelling anti-flea soap too, groomers that is.
The thing of it is, these uber-bulgy males are bound to get all dick-whammy when things go wrong. And things go wrong. So huffing around and uttering threats and CAP-TYPING hollow ultimatums is gonna get you one them peerrhic victory things - you get to be the big cheese in the burnt lands. ‘Grats big guy.
So we need education for everyone to avoid bulgy peeric outcomes and because education is the big equalizer and part of education is retention and so writing stuff down really helps me remember the good bits and so: Pencils. Pencils work in outer-space and underwater and we need to equalize our children wherever they are. My GCG has a lot of whatevers. It’s so cool. So that’s my Raisin. Equalizing children by usin’ pencil-based remembering.
Here’s how I roll, I’m pretty sure pencils don’t grow on trees, and though I’m working on that, I think first I gotta make more lead to let the pencils do the writing the good bits down. Alchemy is the slickest way to make lead, ‘cause gold and lead are pretty darn close, move a few electrons around and a bit of coughing in the thick smoke and WHAM! gold turned into lead. I have lots of gold hidden in a sub-cave over behind my livin’ cave. I know what yer thinkin', TWO CAVES?? But it's not all glamour.
My landlord happened by to collect the rent and was moaning about the smoke staining up his nice sim and stuff, he’s always moaning about something, “your forest is dead”, t’other “renters have voted you off the island”, “what’s that smell?” And he mentioned that pencils don’t use lead, lead is too hard, wrecks-the-paper-hard, so they use graphite, but call ‘em lead pencils anyway ‘cause they ain’t geeks. Well, rats! (And I got 'em.)
So, I’m working on that. Turning gold into graphite is more than just electron wrangling. The flash fires, the baby explosions, and that sound like tearing open the fabric of space time - seems a bit much for zero results. I need to add magic. So I joined up with Madame Burrury’s Finest School For Wizzards and Magikal Creatures School of Magik. Already started and have my first certificate, although MBFSFWAMCSOM insists it's a form telling me to stop invoking demons sort of thing. I say I have a piece of paper what says I can do magic.
And that how My GCG deals with things, it makes options available to make it right: gold into graphite. Now I’m a sub-neo-beginner peri-magician. :)
Equalizing and empowering all children by letting them write stuff down in space. Lofty, sure, and if’n it was easy everyone would be doing it. Raisins ain’t easy. But I'm thinkin' they're important and stuff. And in #MyGCG everything except second dates is possible.
That’s it fer now, Trey.
#myGCG hastag was thoughtfully inspired by Winter Silversmith
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