PubspeaksReal or Fool’s Gold? The Modern-Day Alchemy of Second LifeBy Mary Lee Kingsley, WIW Member If the purpose was to assemble thirty or so of DC’s most diverse, Central Casting themselves could not have outdone the mix of people that gathered at Bertucci’s in Clarendon, site of WIW’s mid-January Pubspeak for author Robert Freedman. Attendees had one thing in common, however: a FASCINATION with the subject of 3D virtual worlds. It was like a Trekkie convention hosted by World Bank suits. It was almost too much to grok. Why the fascination? You had to be there. Or avail yourself of Freedman’s book, How to Make Real Money in Second Life: Boost Your Business, Market Your Services, and Sell Your Products in the World’s Hottest Virtual Community (McGraw-Hill, December 2007). Freedman’s tips about the burgeoning possibilities of—and in—the online virtual realm of Second Life are grounded in real-world savoir faire. Senior editor of REALTOR Magazine and past president of the American Society of Business Publication Editors, his unassuming manner belies the elusiveness of a concept as ethereal as applied virtual reality. Freedman appears so elementally down-to-earth, in fact, that assertions like “the exchange rate of Linden dollars to the US dollar is 270:1 – it’s kind of a depressed economy,” come out sounding normal. Sort of. While making actual virtual-currency transactions (!) in this alternative dimension sound as plausible as using Canadian dollars during the copacetic Eisenhower years, Freedman is candid about the learning curve required to frequent the Second Life cosmos. “It’s not intuitive,” he allows, predicting three to five years before the seamless transitioning between Internet and 3D cyberspace become the norm. He speaks eagerly of the day when this truly “takes off.” Perhaps when a company with Google-grade resources takes on making 3D real-time interfaces part of Everyman’s everyday browsing experience, he speculates. Intriguing though the subject may be, learning about Second Life approximates hearing wine snobs describe tastings. Without taking a swig yourself, and even if you recognize the terminology, it’s as remote as the War of the Roses for Orangutan Islanders. To the uninitiated, getting the mind around a 3D virtual world built by and for resident avatars (virtual personages) — let alone relating to it — rivals conceptualizing an M.C. Escher or Möbius-strip manifestation sight unseen. Freedman advises getting in on the ground floor, so to speak, now. Even at this stage you’d be in plenty of company—11 million users from 130 countries frequent the “SLurls,” with memberships increasing 20% a month. Although a third of the membership are American with Western Europeans and Asians dominating the other 70%, embedded real-time translation in seven or eight languages makes voice- and text-chat communication issues practically moot. Plus, a Second Life membership account is free, at least until one gets hooked by the lure of becoming more, shall we say, fully invested. Joining can be as simple as (1) a decent computer and adequate bandwidth, (2) the wherewithal to arrive at a name and image for your virtual avatar, and (3) the wisdom to keep the avatars you meet “at-arms-length.” For unlike the more established social networkings of Facebook or MySpace, everything encountered here is assumed. Take nothing at face value, for there be dragons. Scratch a purple Triceratops and you could find a real-life pinstriped attorney — or something even MORE sinister. In all seriousness, however, as co-Pubspeaker David Levinson points out, just because Disney paid $350 million up-front for Club Penguin (a popular kiddie version of 3D virtual world), it doesn’t mean it’s all Gummi bears and hangover-proof swizzle sticks. Nothing so relentless as a virtual stalker, apparently. For the susceptible, virtual immersion can spawn real dilemmas. Levinson hints at the compulsive frenzy that plagues some Second Life habitués, with a knowing crack redolent of Redneck jokes: “You know you’ve been in too long when….” An audience member chimes in, naming a 60 Minutes interview with a man, already married in actual life, who felt compelled to marry his sweetie (who was not his real-life wife) in Second Life. Levinson, CEO of bleeding-edge 3D-enabler Cranial Tap and professional landscape photographer in the physical plane, helped Freedman help fill perceptual gaps and field questions like, “Why isn’t there something like a handbook that will tell me all about how to do this?” After offering up examples of Coldwell Banker real-estate tours where “you can fly above the house,” and Books for Soldiers, where deployed Iraq warfighters can meet up with their spouses in a virtually re-created USO facility to dance and carry on, Freedman and Levinson could almost reveal themselves to be holograms and sound credible. Reality checks go out the window in Second Life, with limitations consigned largely to imagination and psychic endurance. Traffic and other real-life afflictions are non-starters, although novice “Navatars” can expect to bounce off a wall or two before teleporting becomes second nature. Visualization takes on new dimensions, offering growing appeal for those bound by the confines of the physical world, like Muscular Dystrophy sufferers, who can conference unhampered in forgiving 3D cyberspace. Currently, the average Second Life user is said to be 32, yet neither age nor infirmities nor differences need hold anyone back: witness a self-described “octogenarian” in the audience who describes promoting his book The Virtual Librarian in the alternate universe — “You never run out of brochures,” he cackles. Theodore Rockwell in real life, he looks and sounds waaaaay younger than your average 80-something. But then again, he is also a real-life nuclear engineer, so hardly an average anything. More and more, companies as well as individuals are testing the virtual waters, wading into applications where the depths are, as of yet, unknown. Today — “test drive” a BMW and experience the torque; tomorrow — who knows? Plunge in: the sky (to mess with another boundary) is the limit! Laggards, skeptics, and the merely curious can sashay over to www.cranialtap.com for displays of Second Life-styles’ increasingly elaborate constructs: “Avatar Island is the first and only automated service in Second Life that prepares a photograph for your character's face. This simple process allows any user's avatar to look just like them.” Oh, and here’s one to tickle the literal-minded: “Gronstedt Train for Success—Gronstedt is a training and communications firm who wanted to leverage Second Life as an additional platform to their clients. The two trains shown were built for this purpose.” [Platform, get it?!] Hard to suppose what an author like J.R.R. Tolkien would have done with such capability, conceived as a “Playground for Programmers.” It’s practically as unfathomable as Tom Cruise explaining Scientology. As to what an author today might do, Freedman and Levinson have done much to outline the possibilities. To start filling some of them in, you’ll need to Boldly Go to SecondLife.com. It’s early days still, and “one way,” per our enterprising octagenarian, “to get around the Establishment”! Sign up for the next Pubspeak online.
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