The Hobo King Gets An Island
When I last spoke with Orhalla Zander, the SL Hobo king who starred in a Cinemax movie, he mentioned finding "an island to live on all to ourselves… We put a flag up with the symbol
of a circle with a 'x' going through the middle of it. Roasting
marshmallows and cooking beans." Apparently, this is it [SLURL], appropriately named Hobbo Island, billed as an explorable Hobo City, a ramshackle place of refuse and abandoned infrastructure, Tech Warfare matches, and, of course, regular bum fights. (Thanks to Hotspur O'Toole for reporting on its opening last weekend, and coming back with suitably grungy pics.)
WHEE HOO! Ol' Mistophur Zander dun made good!
When I sells enuf o' mah Perpetshual Motion Mersheens (100,000 Lindens buys yu a copy o' it) I'm a gonna git mee a rite fine:
HILLBILLY I-LAND!
Till, then, tu awl the purty gals (espheshully Miz Iris Ofeelya):
If'n yu wants tu find this-hear fashion plate fo' sum good lovin' (o' a copy o' the mersheen) I'll be a-hangin' out wif Orhalla an' the hobos.
Posted by: Pappy Enoch | Thursday, September 04, 2008 at 09:33 AM
Looks like "hobo wisdom" is growing in SL!
But beware: if you meet Pappy wandering around Hobo City and he offers you a "drink 'o shine" that third sip will lay you out.
Aside from just plain fun, it seems that there may be some interesting theoretical insights conjured up by such rag-tag characters and places - especially in a digital environment. See my posting "Imperfection in Second Life" for more on the unlikely combo of hobo & theory
http://beeblebaxter.blogspot.com/2007/10/imperfection-in-second-life.html#links
Posted by: Beeble Baxter | Friday, September 05, 2008 at 10:47 AM
Oh mah gawd..that-thar shine-drinkin' raccoon, Beeble, dun follered mee to NWN. Look out, Mistophur Au!
That rascal gots hisself a PhD (in progress) n' talks 'bout a-studyin' French fellers wif names like Jean Baudacious n' Michel Folkart n' Paul The Man. French wrasslers? Cood bee...plus sum Canadian feller name o' Marshall McLoosehand, too.
Wif a name like that I figgered he mite bee a wrassler o' a law-man, but no, he writ up sum'fin big 'bout TV that made him rite famus:
"The Medium am the Massage..." don't make no kind o' durn-fool sense tu me. Fast kump'ny, if'n yu axes me.
Posted by: Pappy Enoch | Friday, September 05, 2008 at 01:11 PM