My ‘Second Life,’ part 2

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.
I had several interesting experiences this week, especially towards the end.
I began in a deserted town that had been completely built by one “man.” The first thing I noticed when I arrived in his town was the man himself: He had purchased a light-up dance floor and appeared to be dancing all by himself. Finding this rather odd, I moved on to mingling about the town. He and I were the only ones there, and he didn’t make any attempt to IM me. Eventually, I stumbled upon a rather appealing toy: A miniature panda bear with a wheel on top. I right clicked on the object and clicked Sit here, and there I sat, on top of a walking panda bear, just marching in circles. Deciding that this wasn’t worthwhile whatsoever, I quickly made a trip to the local mall and took a picture on Santa’s lap (no joke), then I was off.
The new island that I teleported to was a relaxing spot where people loafed around on sofas and had picnics; however, I noticed an object that seemed to be a lunar lander. At first, I was hesitant about sitting in the space craft, anticipating that if I entered it, a hyperagent computer named HAL9000 would try to kill me. Reluctantly, I sat down on one of the seats and realized that it was actually a device for skydiving. I told the device to take me up 4000 meters, and away I went.
To my surprise, I didn’t land where I had previously sat but on an ocean floor. Apparently, characters can walk through oceans, no need for a staff. I decided to walk up to the nearest island, which my map told me had inhabitants. As I approached the new scenario, a pool with conventional sunning chairs appeared with a modern house in the background. What’s more is that there were about 30 people crowding the grounds, all dancing — my first Second Life party!
Eager to get this party started right, I held the sprint button down and dashed towards the bowl of hors d’œuvres, but an obstacle leapt into my path: It was the house owner who had started the party. To my misfortune, the party was invite-only, and I wasn’t invited. Imagine the rage of the partygoers who were just there keeping with the beat when they see an uninvited guest emerge from the nearby ocean. I sulked away and did the natural thing… I went next-door.
The adjacent house also bordered the ocean and was designed with a tiki bar in mind. The minute I sent foot onto the property, I realized that this was actually someone’s home — well, Second Life home. “What harm could be done?” I irrationally thought. I slipped into my swimming trunks and rested in the person’s hot tub. After some time, I began to ponder whether I should teleport to that scenario in which I can vote. In Second Life, of course. However, I was given a rude awakening — the home owner had arrived home! The chic-styled man (every woman and man, regardless of real appearance, ironically creates an attractive avatar of themselves) typed away furiously, ordering me off their property, or else I would go to jail. Panicked, I tried to fly away but hit the ceiling. I quickly clicked the “x” on the top right of my screen to close the game — forever, I decided.
It’s important to reflect on what I learned. I was first reminded of noble Harvard associate and philosopher Robert Nozick and his thought experiment.
Nozick’s imaginary machine would allow users to “plug into” it and be given virtual experiences, any experience desired, including perhaps life itself in its entirety. After playing Second Life, I realized that most of the experiences people would engage in would be completely inappropriate and maybe even what society would find immoral. Secondly, if I were to plug into his virtual machine to simulate an entire life, I would die from starvation in a week. Finally, if you do decide to test out Second Life, DO NOT GO TO MARUKU ISLAND. Avoid Maruku Island at all cost.