Blog
October 2008
Speaking of Virtual Things
This is horse related, I swear. Stick around for the ride. I’m pretty sure I’ll get to the horses bit.
So, psychology fascinates me. People, they are crazy. All of ‘em. Me, too. And the internet brings out the crazy in everyone, especially when they think they are anonymous. I don’t post much on forums, but I do read them; they are more entertaining than many novels.
There was a time I thought about majoring in psychology instead of English, to be honest. I remember the time exactly… [mist, mist, mist, sepia glow, twinkly lights, twinkly lights, FADEBACK]… So there I was, at 9 p.m., sitting down for my third final exam of the day. At that point, do you really care what you get? No, you really don’t. Exam: Psychology 201. Student’s state of mind: snarky. Question: Describe your theory of personality. Answer: I believe in self determination, which says that although there may be consequences for my actions, I still don’t have to answer this question in any detail.
Grade: A.
Well, something like that. I might have passed the class despite my answer, not because of it, by by golly I did pass the class.
Unfortunately for me (or fortunately for the world… can you imagine me as a therapist?!), I realized that majoring in psychology would involve having to deal with Freud’s legacy. I hate Freud. It’s a bunch of hogwash. I hate Freud so much, that whenever I was asked to write an English paper on a book I also hated, I’d write a Freudian analysis of the book. I proved, several times, that good rhetoric outweighed sense. It was a joke for me; I mean, I would laugh my way through writing the paper, because the whole thing was so absurd. And then I’d get an A on it. Meanwhile, people who believed what they were writing would get C’s. See, English isn’t really about believing anything. It’s about persuasion. I can write persuasively, when I want to.
So, ultimately, no psychology major for me. I just know enough to know that I find people fascinating.
You shouldn’t be surprised, then, to know that I find internet forums and chat rooms equally fascinating. They ARE psychology, pure and simple.
And so, after several years, I finally checked out Second Life, which is a chat room on steroids. You get an avatar, you wander around a 3D world, you can build stuff. I think I saw Hobbittown in one of my random jumps from place to place. It’s a virtual world where pretty much anything goes. Since you can sell the things you build, apparently people can make money on it, too, which makes it a very commercial virtual world.
I’m not kidding: there are ads all over the freaking place.
What I find fascinating about it? Not the conversation—that’s as dull as rocks everywhere I’ve gone in the world. No, what I find fascinating is that in this world of users building and scripting and creating their own little virtual utopias, there’s a riding community. I’ve seen barns with barrel patterns and jump courses. I’ve seen the horses, tack, riding clothes, barns, accessories, etc. that people have created and are selling to other users (did I mention how commercial this place is?).
I get the appeal—can’t afford a real horse? Have a virtual horse. It’s not much different than the sim-type games where there’s no real point or goal. If you’re chatting with horsey friends, why not chat while trail riding your virtual horse along the beach? It’s like any other virtual/sim/role playing situation out there.
What’s fascinating about it all is that in a world where anything goes—elvish worlds, sex clubs galore, replications of the world’s wonders, role playing key moments in history—there are people whose imagination and desire focuses on… horses. Trail riding. Simulating shows.
These aren’t elaborate sims—I don’t think you have to feed or muck out your horse or anything like that. But I do find it fascinating that these sims exist.
Or presumably exist. No one ever seemed to be around the couple times I logged in. Maybe they were created and then abandoned.
That’s humans for you: given unlimited possibilites, what do we want? The real world.
(Also, footnote: Second Life, although it has its interesting moments, contains many R-rated areas; there are areas that are not appropriate for all visitors, and areas that are sure to offend many people. Before you dive into Second Life, understand that it’s a world where anything, apparently, goes. And “anything” does not mean “anything I agree with/approve of.”
Freud would have loved Second Life. Can you imagine the fun he would have had with it?
What? I don’t like Freud, but I can appreciate situations that would have made him die of bliss.)
Ow
Today’s first lesson: revisiting opening the knee and relaxing the hip. Again emphasizing the ability to cue the horse better, sit the trot better, and get more results with less flinging the body about like a drunken monkey.
Today’s second lesson: opening the knee and relaxing the hip is great, until you get off the horse and realize you might have overstretched things, just a bit.
Tomorrow’s lesson: pain.
It really was a good lesson, in that it was one more step away from my hunter/jumper comfort zone and another step towards a good dressage seat. Unfortunately, I think I tweaked my groin muscle, given the way I was gimping to the laundromat and back tonight. We’ll see how things go tomorrow morning.
Oh, and in one of those moments that shows God or Fate or Destiny or Plain Dumb Luck has it in for me: I left Houston during Ike because I didn’t want my car to get beat up. So what happens last week? Someone banged into it and scratched off the paint on the right side. Figures. I’m annoyed, but even I can see the humor in the situation.
Total Coincidence
Behind the Bit has an entry on horses displaying the ability to reason.
I’ve seen that a time or two, but what about those coincidental moments that just seem like higher reasoning?
For instance, at a former barn there was a young colt who was, well, a young colt. He had his young horse moments. However, since all I did with him was hand walk him, groom him, and feed him treats, he thought I was the greatest. He was also my favorite horse there.
So, his owner and I were standing outside his stall, talking. He was munching on hay, head hanging over the door. She mentioned something he’d done earlier the day.
“Not him!” I said. “He’s perfect!”
He dropped the hay out of his mouth and stared at me with absolutely slack-jawed disbelief: Clearly, the fact that he was perfect was news to him.
I’m sure the whole thing was coincidental and a reaction to the tone of my voice, but his expression was priceless. He was absolutely bewildered by something.
I realize I have no fashion sense, but…
Surely I’m not the only one who looks at these pictures of black dressage bridles with white padding, gold thread, blinged browbands and cavassons, brass buckles (plus buckle closures to attach the cheek piece and reins to the bit, instead of hook closures) and brass buckle keepers and thinks ew. Surely I’m not. These thinks look like tack Peter Jackson could have used to dress up the Nazguls’ horses.
On a positive note, I saw some Passier bridles that still use hook closures and have an adjustable crown instead of buckles on the cheek pieces, and they are yummy. I am not entirely sure about the mechanics of having the buckle over the horse’s poll, but can you imagine how clean and understated that would look on a horse’s head?
Of course, it had a sparkly browband. Do they even sell bridles without sparkly browbands anymore? Probably not; it’s like trying to find an unpadded bridle. What a nightmare this bling trend is. I hope people get over the My Little Pony With Diamonds thing soon.
I will say this, though: given my intense dislike of bling, I am a little floored that I saw some engraved stirrup irons and I loved them. They would be a nightmare to keep clean, and I imagine there would be a much greater chance of scuffing the saddle when they are run up, but they are very pretty.
No news is exceptionally good news
I haven’t posted much over the past month because… well, Ike didn’t help, certainly, but primarily because I had been given the opportunity to ride a horse whenever I wanted. Since I hadn’t talked to his owner about this blog, I didn’t want to post anything about riding him—some people just aren’t comfortable with even pseudo-anonymous postings on the net, whether they are good or bad.
I’ve had fun riding over the past month, as much as Ike and my work schedule allowed, and was genuinely sorry as the end of the month approached. He’s a fun, fun guy to ride with a very patient and forgiving attitude.
Fortunately for me, the horse’s owner offered me a half lease. We all know that I really want to buy my own horse, but let’s be honest: I can keep doing this “I’ll buy next spring/fall/year” thing until the sun explodes. I still don’t know what I’m going to do next spring, but like I said—I really enjoyed riding this guy. Right now, leasing is an excellent idea. So I am.
I may even get talked back into the show ring in January. Eek!
Now to come up with a pseudonym for the horse. His owner is ok with the blog, but you know me—I like my mostly anonymous space.
In other news, I finally broke down and ordered the poster from Dressage Extensions. I still object to paying their exorbitant shipping fee (although I admit the poster was nicely packaged, but it wasn’t $9 worth of nicely packaged).
This is the poster:
I bought it because years ago I was given this poster as a gift:
I love that print and I’ve always wanted something to match it. Now to get the new one framed.