Mega prims
Oh how I cheered when the switch got flipped removing the
ten metre limit on prim length (I think it was at about the same time that mesh
got introduced). I didn’t immediately
optimise my skybox, but when I did I managed in the space of about an hour to
reduce the prim count for the building shell by almost fifty per cent. More to the point, I was able to ditch every
last mega prim I’d used in my previous optimisation. If I could have, I’d have lit a fucking great
big fire and burned the lot of them in celebration.
Mega prims were a necessary evil if you wanted to build
anything bigger than a garden shed and not have it suck dry the measly 117 prim
allowance on your 512m plot. Imagine a
shoe box with the lid taped on and one of the long sides cut out and you pretty
much have the shape of my skybox. It
measures now 32m by 16m and is 10m high.
To do this in old, ten metre restricted prims would cost a staggering
twenty prims; today, it can be done in two. Of course, to reduce this number, I originally
built the skybox as 30m by 15m but that still cost me sixteen prims – and
that’s before I got to the windows, let alone the furnishings. With mega prims, I managed to reduce the
sixteen to a very respectable five. But
not without pain.
I don’t understand how mega prims were made: through some
sort of black SL art, I suspect, that involved naked dancing and incantations. Or possibly a viewer bug which talented
residents exploited for the brief period that it existed (you decide which is
most appealing). The thing with mega
prims was that they only came in certain dimensions – dimensions which you
couldn’t adjust (because the moment you attempted to do so they snapped
instantly back to the ten metre limit) and dimensions which very rarely
coincided with the actual size of prim that you wanted. You only realised this, of course, after
you’d trawled through the eye-bleedingly long list of mega prims in your
inventory – twice, because you just couldn’t bring yourself to accept that your
perfectly reasonable dimension needs could not be met. Even the builder’s HUD I later obtained ended
up making me want to stab myself: although it conveniently took size requests from
the command line and searched for something that matched, it didn’t realise
that a 15m x 30m x 0.5m prim was functionally the same as a 30m x 15m x 0.5m
prim, making every ultimately unsuccessful search six commands long and a
headache in trying to make sure you’d exhausted all the X, Y and Z combinations. I’m an ungrateful bastard, I know; mega prims
ultimately saved me a great deal of land impact prior to the ten metre limit
removal, but Christ they were a pain.
Of course, mega prims are still around today: the ten
metre limit might have been removed, but a sixty-four metre limit was then imposed
and mega prims exist at sizes up to sixty-four thousand metres (that’s 256 whole sims lined up next to each other). Thankfully, since it’s unlikely I’ll ever be
able to afford a land parcel that exceeds 64m in any direction, using these
things again is a horror I will never have to contemplate.
Flexi Jackets
In much the same way that I kind of like the way 1980s programmers
became increasingly ingenious at getting more and more from the old eight bit
computers, I have a certain affection for the ways in which clothes designers
overcame the limitations of the old ‘painted-on’ shirts and jackets prior to the
introduction of mesh. As mesh continues
its apparel assault, I imagine there must be designers now lamenting that their
once clever tricks for adding hoods and collars and cuffs and rolled up sleeves
and all manner of other bits in some way embellishing an avatar’s upper body (a
single jacket could have 30+ prims in its folder) will soon become about as relevant
as Ray Harryhausen’s amazing stop-motion modelling techniques are in the
digital effects era. Unless they sell in
InWorldz, of course…
Well, their day isn’t over just yet. Lots of this clothing still gets worn today because
the best of it still looks pretty good. I
have a tuxedo, bought years ago from Blaze, that continues to look perfectly respectable. Amazingly, this doesn’t even use that little
prim flap to be found at the bottom of so many men’s jackets of what I propose
become known now as the paint-prim hybrid (PPH) era. The only prim garnish to be found on it
anywhere is a little sculptie bow tie.
Awww.
Any jacket that employs those strips of flexi-prims in
order to give them a ‘loose’ feel, however, may now become extinct. Seriously; I really hope I never see another
of these again. Similarly, any jacket
with one of those wrap-around cone-shaped prims to give it a wide flare at the
bottom has my permission to die. It looked
great in the static picture you clicked on to buy it; as soon as you tried to
move, however, it looked like you were wearing some sort of portable iron lung.
Nobody especially likes deleting inventory, so dump all
of this stuff in a special ‘retro’ folder and intend to wear it again for
laughs at the 2023 SL reunion. Of
course, by then we’ll all be wearing the rigged mesh version of ‘Ruth’ and
commenting on how perfect the emulation is.
Ah, the irony.
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