I’m trying, really trying to buy into the whole Second Life phenom, but two visits and I won’t be going back. Aside from the lag factor — doubtlessly due to my PC and my internet connection — I don’t get a ton of enjoyment walking aimlessly around a Myst-like landscape, altering the length of my nose, building 3-d cones, and chatting via the keyboard with other inhabitants who seem to spend most of their time worrying about their appearance and IMing each other.
I’ll give it another try, but I like my community in words, not pictures. Clicking on the fine print and seeing that Linden Labs was serious about policing the use of illegal trademarks, and the ranks of politically correct recycling bins to throw away my trash made the whole experience feel like some weird Big Brother Space. Cyberspace is too clean. I want dysfunction. Dirt in the corners. Spiderwebs on the ceiling.
I am too old for this stuff and my time is too valuable to hang out in the metaverse building “prims” and figuring out how to make money and build my virtual pad. If sex was involved — and you know someone is going to build OrgyLand — then a business model will emerge.
Flying was kind of cool for a few seconds. Seeing other get-a-lifers cruising through the sky was very weird too. It all cries out for a BFG, rocket launcher, and Duke Nukem dialogue.
I had to erase my 12-year old son’s copy of World of Warcraft. Six months and the kid was getting haunted by the game, putting hours into it at a time. It’s sad to see someone get sucked into an online experience — it’s happened to me — and realize, as the man said, “If you plant ice, you’re gonna harvest wind.”