“Second Life is the only game (shut up it's a game ok), that has tons and tons of issues every day. And it’s (sic) player base willingly puts up with it. I guess it’s become part of the gameplay now.”
So here is my response:
“I did a quick (i.e. methodologically suspect) trawl (not troll) through a random selection of posting here at the Herald and estimated that if we removed ALL references to negative comments about the Second Life experience, the Second Life Herald would become the Second Life Monthly - abridged.
“It IS part of the gameplay, and a stunningly critical one. In all my in-world interactions this weekend I can guarantee that the topics of logging in (flaky), TPs (sporadic), and transactions (scary!) were high on the social agenda.
“Which reminds me of the movie Bedazzled (1967) with Peter Cook and Dudley Moore (superior to the 2000 re-make with Brendan Fraser, except for the deliciously erotic Liz Hurley as the type of Satan to whom I would willingly sell my soul) where Cook, as the devil, sits atop a London postbox and says to Moore, ‘Pretend I'm God and now dance around me and sing my praises.’ After a few seconds, Moore says ‘I’m getting tired can we switch places?’ to which Cook replies ‘That's exactly what I said!’
“If heaven is indeed perfection, then I don’t want to go. And the same is true of Second Life. I suggest that the imperfections and pains of the virtual existence is - and here’s where I’m being controversial - part of what people need. Remember the old joke; ‘Doctor, My head hurts every time I bang it against the wall’ - ‘Well stop doing that.’
“Here we all are, banging our heads against a virtual wall and saying, "Please sir, can I have another one.’ The answer is so simple - leave, for God’s sake, leave, before it’s too late! - that it is patently and obviously absurd for anyone to stay.
“Yet stay we do. Second Life is an existentialist nightmare; a virtual Theater of the Absurd where there is no point, no purpose, no guiding spirit, just a stooping, slumbering mass of egocentric misfits trapped in a world of their own choosing. I know. I am one of them.
“The rants and raves of disgruntled pundits are nothing more than the omphaloskeptic ramblings of the disenchanted moths who still can't turn away from the flame, and who subconsciously seek to be burned because the pain is the only thing left to remind them of their angst-ridden humanity. And as the stench of scorched insects fills the metaverse, people continue to hurtle into Second Life immolation regardless of the anger, anguish, and anxiety it causes them.
“And still they come.”