“You know, a long time ago being crazy meant something. Nowadays everybody’s crazy.” ~ Charles Manson

I have made it four years without coming to the attention of the Crazy Cat Lady of SL, and I’ve always considered that an unexpected boon of providence. It continues to bewilder me why anyone gives her credibility or attention as she’s so obviously an irrelevant entity when measured by any objective standard, but one of the odd quirks of SL society is that you don’t have to have any sort of redeeming value to establish celebrity. This works both to the benefit and determent of our little ant farm. Sparkling, gold mines of people who are otherwise overlooked in the world come to our attention in magnificent ways. Unfortunately, on the other side of that coin, are the nutcases with megaphones who proclaim over and over “I will not be ignored” until you toss them a peanut and manage your way out of the park.

Naturally, anyone who has been in SL for any length of time is aware of her in a general sense and occasionally snippets of news filter in to me from friends who inadvertently step in crazy and get it on their shoes. So, tonight I had two phone conversations. I provide relevant excerpts, with approximated transcripts as best my memory can recall:

Grace: “…Oh, and by the way, the new FIC list is out.”
Salome: “What do you mean ‘out’?”
Grace: “Apparently she posts actual lists with names each year.”
Salome: “Seriously?”
Grace: “Yes, although there are multiple lists and which names apply to which list and what each list represents only makes sense, you know, to her.”
Salome: “Well, I would imagine her and the underpants gnomes.”
Grace: “I’m on one of the lists.”
Salome: “You?”
Grace: “Yes.”
Salome: “You’re FIC?”
Grace: “Yes.”
Salome: (giggles incoherently)
Grace: “That’s not the best part.”
Salome: (continues giggling)
Grace: “Stop. There’s more.”
Salome: (attempts to subdue giggling and fails miserably)
Grace: “Will you stop. Lyndon’s on it, too.”
Salome: (between giggles) “Only one Linden?”
Grace: “No. Lyndon.”
Salome: “Which Linden?”
Grace: “Lyndon. Lyndon Heart.”
Salome: “OUR Lyndon?”
Grace: “Yes.”
Salome: “Oh dear God.”
Grace: “What?”
Salome: “How on earth am I going to explain what FIC means to him? He still doesn’t understand what the PN is and they’ve griefed his concerts on repeated occasions.”
Grace: “Baby, it took you a week to explain to him how to change his pants.”
Salome: “I need Crazy Cat Lady flash cards.”
Grace: “Good luck with that.”

…Later that same night…

Salome: “You busy?”
Lyndon: “Sorta, but I’ve got a few, what’s up?”
Salome: “Um, okay.” (deep breath) “Do you know what FIC means?”
Lyndon: “Frick?”
Salome: “FIC. F – I – C.”
Lyndon: “No. Federal International…”
Salome: “No. No. No. Okay. Do you know who Prokofy Neva is?”
Lyndon: “Sounds familiar. Famous chess player or something, right?”
Salome: “No, honey.” (deep breath) “Okay. How do I explain this…do you know the crazy cat lady on the Simpsons?”
Lyndon: “Yes.”
Salome: “Okay, well this is the crazy cat lady of SL, except she pretends to be a boy and writes a unibomber manifesto style blog.”
Lyndon: (after a pause) “Okay.”
Salome: “Right, so she makes these lists of people and she calls it the FIC. It stands for Feted Inner Core.”
Lyndon: “Weren’t you in that?”
Salome: “No. That was Feted Inner Horde, my old WOW guild which is related but… we’re getting off topic. Anyway, she makes these lists.”
Lyndon: “Lists of FIC.”
Salome: “Yes. They are people she considers to be … you remember how Bush used to say ‘evil doers’?”
Lyndon: “Uh huh.”
Salome: “Okay, well this is crazy cat lady’s evil doers list.”
Lyndon: “And you’re on it?”
Salome: “No, honey. You are.”
Lyndon: “I am?”
Salome: “Yes. You and Grace both are.”
Lyndon: “Cool!”
Salome: “No, no, it’s not…”
Lyndon: “I’m going to get an eye patch! Can I wear an eye patch?”
Salome: “It’s not a pirate thing…it’s like…”
Lyndon: “I’m frick!”
Salome: “FIC.”
Lyndon: “Right, I’m FIC! I get to be bad!”
Salome: (sighs) “That’s right, honey. You’re bad.”
Lyndon: “Yay!”

If you know our boy and you’re reading this, you’re giggling incoherently about now. It would be baffling if it wasn’t so painfully obvious.

You see, my Gracie girl at least moves in circles where, though not elitist, could, from someone lacking 20/20 vision (or, you know, sanity) be viewed as such. To have Lyndon on the list, well, maybe, she just picks random names from those who stand near her at SLCCs. And, yes, the whole FIC thing is confusing to the point of no longer having meaning, but sadly, it does have meaning to her.

After the giggling, though, reflecting on this reveals the depressingly disturbing thing about not just the crazy cat lady, but that certain segment of the whole desperately-trying-to-remain-relevant ’04 crew. Those who haven’t moved on and skilled up in the brave new world yet cling in their haunted Delta Dawn-esque way to the one thing that made them important. At this stage she’s obviously just throwing out names that look familiar, despite having no context of who most of them are.

It’s funny for a few minutes, like watching a very drunk person try to make it up a flight of stairs. Except then the humanity in you starts to worry that they’re going to fall and crack their head open, and you feel seedy for even watching. No matter how vile their behavior was in the bar, or how much of their beer they sloshed on your friends, you feel gross just watching them continue to make fools of themselves and you wonder why someone — anyone — isn’t around to help them.