Location: Orientation Island

I recently created what SL players call an “alt,“ or alternative identity, and I had to endure, for a few minutes at least, the indignities of Orientation Island.

While Ignatius’ arrival went unrecorded, this time I got a snapshot of the my alt’s birth: naked he and others arrive in-world, waiting in line until their virtual clothing “rezzes.“ Then a new SL resident is born. 

And how cruel is that world when compared to ours? Over the weekend, I was in another line, picking up supplies for a luncheon. The cashier, clearly having a terrible day, cast a sad glance at the man in front of me.  He’d teased her about a newspaper he wanted to buy; when she didn’t know the price, he said “free!“

She replied, “Ain’t nothing free in this life, not even a smile.“

At that moment in the market, her words struck me as poetry. And in an instant, I knew clearly why so many of us like Second Life.

In a recent reply to a post here, Ida Keen corrected me; Second Life, Ida notes, is not a game. It’s an environment, a world.  And unlike our world, many things are free.  The volunteer work on Info Island, my friendship with Dianna Defiant, my collaboration with Beeble Baxter on an academic article, Ida’s and Dianna’s kindness to newcomers even more bumbling than Ignatius: all these things have been free of charge.

Sadness, in-world?  Other than what we bring with us, such as for the Tech victims, I’ve not yet found sadness in Second Life.

No comments have been posted.

Post Your Comments:

Commenting is not available in this weblog entry.