Location: Ross Infohub, Memory Bazaar

In part because of a force-feeding of canned old-media experiences, we are forgetting how to play (consider Olmsted’s urban parks of 1900 vs. today’s theme-park). Demographic studies of “Millennials” show that younger people these days (cut to old geezer voice) don’t understand unstructured imaginative play. My recent students’ unease with SL stemmed from this; they just did not know how to handle the open-ended nature of the metaverse.

Such un-programmed fun is at the center of Second Life, and Lady Di is the perfect companion for these adventures.  Dianna Defiant’s and my latest fun-filled hour in Second Life began with a plea for some shopping help. When Di said that she knew a shop with nice suits for 45 Lindens, I had to bite.

We met and in a twinkling I had two black suits; one an old-school gangster style rig with a black shirt and lavender tie.  Then it struck Dianna how much we could look like the Men in Black—well, in our case, the Babe and the Bald Guy in Black.  So she put on a man’s suit identical to mine, donned some black sunglasses (mine never leave my nose), said “I’m feeling butch,” pulled out a gun that looked like Han Solo’s blaster, gave me one, and told me to follow her.

Those who have never been in Second Life cannot fully comprehend how vapid much of the content can be at a typical mall in-world. In one open-air booth there will be tasteful jewelry, in the next twinkling “bling” angel-halos, and in the third one sleazy underwear. It’s like the tawdry part of the Bellwood Flea Market but with people flying around, nearly naked.  Some of them with wings, horns, or cat-tails.  Avatars strut about in this stuff, but too few of them know what to DO with their personae, except shop, have sex, or just chat.

Di began by asking people if they’d seen any unauthorized aliens in the sector.  I followed up—I’m a gamer, after all—with lines like “Agent D and I have been authorized by Governor Linden to apprehend any tentacle-waving horrors.”  Soon Di and I were screaming with laughter.  We tried the same routine at the Infohub, a popular place for newcomers fresh from Orientation Island. Some people played along to Di’s “We are searching for hydrocephalopods.  Seen any here?”  Others teleported away.  One tough-looking “drug dealer” looked like he was ready to pound me and did not respond to my “Greetings, citizen.”

So I walked away. What’s more fun, anyway—pretending to be alien-hunting US agents or a drug-dealer selling fake drugs in a fake world?

Be sure to check the “In a Strange Land” Archive for old posts

Dam Iggy - that WAS fun! We have got to go MIB-ing again soon. Wouldn’t want to waste the suit! I make this look goooood….
BTW - the ladies suits cost $20 more than the same men’s suit - what’s up w/that??
Agent D

Dam that WAS fun Iggy…reading this made me laugh all over again. We have GOT to go MIB-ing again soon!! Wouldn’t want to waste the suit!
Agent D

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