My ‘Second Life,’ part 1

Editor’s note: Hailing from Campobello, S.C., Russell Kooistra is a student at Polk County High School who fears Apple Corporation, Steve Jobs and hair metal. He can be complained to or complimented via email at player9@gmail.com.
Second Life is an online program that has been getting some attention recently. It’s actually a very creatively conceived “game”. In Second Life, abbreviated SL, you connect to the internet and a fake map is displayed. If you click anywhere on the map, you’ll be taken to that locale, a simulated environment. Once you get there, you are electronically depicted as a person with a fabricated name. SL is almost a social networking program. You can manage your looks or appearance and communicate with other people who also have a graphic representation of themselves. However, your graphic representation is not limited to your real-life appearance. People can be dressed as samurais if they wish. The whole point of the program is to earn fake money and use that fake money to do things you would do in real life, such as go to a club, get a job, shop, go on a cruise, or go exploring, all while making lots of e-friends — hence the name Second Life. You start yourself off and can always add to your money supply using real money that you give to the company that created the game, Linden Lab.
However, SL has come under criticism and been parodied, as well. According to one website, members of Second Life “need to get a first life.” After all, you’re taking the time to do things such as take a virtual cruise and simulate real life on your computer when you can, in fact, be doing such activities in reality. There have also been several lawsuits involving mature circumstances. When I say you can do anything in Second Life that you can do in real life, I mean just about anything.
So what’s this program that’s come under social fire really like? I created my own profile, Orr Uborstein (you must choose a fabricated last name, and the first name was inspired by Catch-22), to find out.
I started off on a tutorial island that taught me how to walk, run, drive a vehicle while steamrolling cyber rats, fly like Superman, chat with people, sit down, and change my appearance. I seemed to “fly” through these activities rather quickly and spent most of my time on Tutorial Island running around nude carrying nothing but a torch — to my surprise, you could legitimately take off all your clothes. I felt like I finally could understand what it would be like to live in an utterly Libertarian society, or even an Anarchist society. However, the whole point of the clothing option was to allow Residents to choose their fashion.
I was eager to finally explore my Second Life. I spent the first five to fifteen minutes hopping from environment to environment, expecting to find a surprised and embarrassed Drew Millard. Eventually, I arrived in a night club. The walls were purple, and a strobe light and club music were used to recreate a real club. People seemed to be enjoying themselves, and they would approach each other, and with a click of a button, would ask the other to dance. So there they sat in front of their monitors watching a simulated version of themselves dancing, while they themselves were passively watching their screen. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the money to acquire proper dress for the club, so nobody asked to “booty-dance” with me.