“Ahem.. excuse me! Can I have the attention of the class for one second?” ~ Eminem

Grace has volleyed up some interesting questions that I’ve been personally wrestling with since the dawn of Salome. Well, before, actually, but never quite as intimately as with Salome.

In the world of new media, where reincarnation, re-branding, and re-invention are sometimes just a few clicks away, what is the value of a virtual identity? The more I examine this issue and read the input of others, the more I can’t help wondering if it’s the right conversation to be having at this point about where we are as Second Life citizens. Are we allowing ourselves to be pushed to a level of theoretical discussion that just breezes over the issue of who is demanding our identity and what rights they have to assign value to us or anything else in the dysfunctional playground where nothing seems ready for the big show? Are we being co-opted by our own intellectualism, milked for a sense of outrage to distract us from asking the simplest questions about who the people are behind the curtains and what are they doing about the existing problems before creating new ones and what rights do they have to our information?

Background: Grace’s post branches organically from the tree of Wallace Linden’s somewhat clumsy post addressing the management of virtual identity. Shock and awe, a week to the day of Wallace’s “things that make you go hmmm” style post, Linden Lab announced their acquisition of Avatars United. An acquisition that Grace points out comes with its own share of clumsiness.

It’s getting to the point where sighing and highlighting Linden Labs failure is feeling a bit like picking on the slow kid at recess. But, ironically, many of us seem to be in this abusive relationship with the slow kid. He kicks the ball over by us, we take it back to him all big smiles and friendliness and he knocks us down for our trouble. It’s all Lucy and Charlie Brown practicing place kicks. “What? You trusted us? AGAIN? You really are a blockhead.” Good grief.

So it really doesn’t shock me, nor do I think it shocks anyone, that Linden Labs fumbles their user base again. I keep thinking of the World of Warcraft episode of South Park where the Blizzard executives are trying to hand off an in-world item to a player only to discover none of them actually have accounts or play the game. “I don’t have a World of Warcraft character! I have a life!” More and more, this feels like how Linden Labs also views its users. They are making SL, but they’re not of SL. Virtual identities are just their business tools — their DBAs — their stage names. I don’t know that any of them tie themselves into a virtual identity the way many of us do. They certainly do not seem plugged into the issues that matter to their users. To some extent, of course, there is always a betrayal of the first generation of early adapters. The shucking off takes place when most start-ups edge into the mainstream. In theory, this happens to homogenize things for a bigger audience. The one SL keeps chasing and never quite catching.

But it’s a disservice to dwell just on the usual SL fail side of this particular issue, because the concept of value based on a virtual identity is, actually something even virtual lifers disagree on. I touched on this in a previous post where I addressed an ex-acquaintance calling me untrustworthy because I do not publicly attach my RL identity to Salome.

My own feelings on the issue are a bit schizophrenic.

On one hand, I get exhausted by the endless stream of lackluster twattle that tries to pass itself off as professional grade in SL. The reality is that the majority of SL businesses, media, artists, etc. are all just hobbyists playing at being qualified for the tasks they take on. Much of it is self-absorbed and self-promoting on a level that is just shy of repulsive and it’s as vulgar in these ways as it is unexamined and unchallenged. When you cast too bright a light in most corners, the paint is peeling, or is simply a primer base that never got its final coat.

But for 95% of SL, that’s okay. It doesn’t matter if the talk show host is a self-centered nit who doesn’t research their guests or have so much as a basic grasp of new media issues. It doesn’t matter if the musician’s manager is just a “look at me” credit hog who does nothing beyond a little digital paperwork. It doesn’t matter if the news is brought to you by sensationalistic creeps or shills that regurgitate the shiny happy corporatespeak.

It doesn’t matter because no one is asking you to take them at more than their presented worth. No one is forcing you to watch or read or use their services. So their credentials are based on a brand in a virtual world. And their brand is what you get to take or leave. There’s nothing wrong with that.

To that end, the services most people are seeking in SL aren’t that major. Just like most services in RL aren’t all that major. Amid getting all riled up about identity, ask yourself, what have you ever engaged in in SL where a RL name, resume, etc. would matter? Then ask yourself how much does it even matter in RL?

We all like to think that we do full research on anyone and everyone we hire or do business with, but in reality, most people in RL don’t jump through huge hoops for the great majority of our daily transactions. It’s all first impression and luck. You pick a name out of a phone book (okay, Google search these days, but you get my point), you call, if the person talks a good game, you let them fix your sink. You get the number of a teenager from a friend and let her babysit your kids. Maybe you run a Google for the important stuff. But you hand over your credit card every day to god knows who behind the counter of Store X and Restaurant Y. The vast majority of service agreements and exchanges in RL boil down to the word of a friend, a good phone impression, the tidiness of a uniform, the brand name of a franchise. Even in some of the “important” institutions and practices of RL, this is the case. Most people get away with overpumped resumes because employers don’t bother to check all references. The package, the brand, the haircut, the suit, the ease of conversation — in most cases these will take the place of established credibility. Anyone who plays office politics will tell you it’s not usually the work horse that gets the rewards, it’s the person who sells themselves to the right people in the right way.

Few people in SL will render services that require access to your credit card, your home, or your real identity. So why this push for unnecessary transparency? Why are we so uncomfortable taking people at avatar value? Is it to do with the trust we have in others, or the trust we have in ourselves to do our due diligence when the time comes?

Unlike most people, I have no issue taking someone at what they present to me. I have every right to ask, research, and examine every relationship (personal or professional) to the limits of good taste. That is my responsibility. If a person has kept themselves private, then I will temper my interaction with them accordingly. If I want to get to know the person, I will. If I feel I need more information before engaging in any sort of business project with them, I’ll tell them. How they respond will dictate how things progress.

A great deal of Second Life residents and businesses are fringe or unpolished. But there are also actual professionals that work and play within the format. Generally they’re not loud, showboating posers. They’re too busy doing stuff to care about make-believe celebrity or fisking a handful of L$ out of consumers that are too lazy to become educated consumers. It’s a frontier society, so you have the shadows and the light.

But RL names and identities aren’t going to add anything to that pool that isn’t already there. That’s not how society works with new media. Not in SL. Not anywhere. A guy named Justin on twitter posts things his 70-something Dad supposedly says. It’s entertaining, so no one cares who Justin really is other than a few media types looking for a human interest story. But Justin’s brand reaches over a million people every time he tweets, not counting what goes viral when those people forward to others. Most of those million probably couldn’t even tell you that Justin was the guy’s name without checking first. They don’t care what his last name is — he entertains them. They don’t hand over anything to him he doesn’t earn with the name “Justin.”

There are a handful of cases where RL identities matter and they all have one thing in common: the point where something virtual finds its way into someone’s meat space life. At that point its the responsibility of the parties involved to engage in proper disclosure, or, if legal procedures are involved, for everyone to cooperate in good faith to resolve issues. Beyond that point, debates about credibility and the value of identity feel like distractions. Important theoretical avenues to pause and consider while we wander down Alpha Ralpha Boulevard, but not the crux of the matter.

The fundamental issue for me is the fact that most of Second Life is not ready for prime time because the format and company brand are not on par with what professionals demand of anything they invest their valuable time into. Before Linden Labs can seriously begin to float concepts into its user base on issues like identity and professional integrity, they need to get their own house in order, present themselves with credibility and professionalism, and show that they can offer a product that invites real professionals to the table. Until then, the theoretical discussions are that of a lot of small time vaudevillians dreaming of becoming Ziegfeld headliners. They’re distracted from the quality of their own offerings because the dreams of the big time shine too bright in their eyes.

I know a few people like Grace in-world who have the teeth and RL background — they can lay down resumes that would make your head spin. The vast majority of these people aren’t about putting their ego and their credentials on their forehead and making you call them Doctor. They don’t chase approval or applause. They certainly have little interest in the celebrity of a make-believe world. They want to explore, create, connect, develop on their own terms. And none of that requires their credit cards, their corporate resumes, or their driver’s licenses.

Their world. Their imagination. Their brand. Their value.

What do I think? I think virtual identity value is an important issue and it merits exploring, but I don’t want to stop holding Linden Labs’ heels to the fire and giving them a pass just because they’re trying to wedge us into the right corner.

Making us register identities, demanding our transparency, these issues aren’t about credibility. These are things that make us sexy to the business world on a consumer level. They want our information, our demographics, our names and our spending habits. And they’re right to want those things. They’re a business, they need collateral assets — and our consumer information is a big part of that.

But once we give it up, that’s the show. Our bargaining chips are gone. It’s all iPad downhill from then on. They give, we consume, and those are the options. There is a small window here for us to be smart consumers and leverage our value by protecting our identities and making them improve their products before locking us into billing cycles.

That’s the value this conversation isn’t addressing. Maybe I’m too cynical, but the more I see where the theoretical conversations take us, the less strength I see us consolidating as a community to demand a better product. That troubles me more than what the RL identity of the avatar next to me is, or what the credentials of the avatar that textured my shoes happen to be.

Have the distractions of intellectualism, drama, and indifference rendered the educated consumer a thing of the past? As such, is our only real value left that of how much we consume, how fast and how quietly we do so?

“Honesty is the cruelest game of all, because not only can you hurt someone - and hurt them to the bone - you can feel self-righteous about it at the same time” ~ Dave Van Ronk

Introspective post warning. Continue at your own risk.

I do not have the respect for honesty that most people do, in a common, every-day sense. I believe there are times (many of them social niceties) where lying is not only a kindness, but a necessity. Measures of self-deception are called for in ourselves to deal with hard times and to come to terms with some of life’s complications. The same is often the case when helping others. It’s tricky, of course, as all nuanced aspects of life are. Knowing when you’re lying for someone else or when you’re lying for yourself; knowing when you’re lying for good intentions as opposed to simple convenience; knowing when your lies are a bridge and when they are a crutch — these are all concepts that can give us mental vertigo and some of us wrestle with them all our lives.

However, there are also times when wielding the “truth” is done recklessly — when facts and hyperbole are used to cloud a narrative rather than clarify it. This has always been a tightrope walk for journalism and writers of non-fiction. It’s one of the main reasons that integrity and reputation are so important when dealing with someone in the position of journalist. A reporter’s responsibility is to relay facts in context with as little editorial as possible. A critic’s job, in contrast, is to deliver an honest, well-defended opinion. Anything different is pandering either to subject matter or reader-base or one’s own ego.

If living in America has made anything brutally clear in the last decade, it’s that facts presented out of context or opinions delivered with a pandering agenda aren’t just distasteful, but also damaging. Championing such acts (whether out of ignorance or lulz) breeds a destructive sort of emotional vandalism that doesn’t wash away easy. The result is that honesty begins to have no distinction against pap and fact begins to have less importance than frenzy.

In the real world we see more and more the pushing of ridiculous narrative in effort to avoid hard work. We know that a 17 year old girl sending a topless photo of herself to her boyfriend on her iPhone isn’t distributing child porn. We know that a hippie grandmother growing pot in her basement to offset chemo nausea isn’t drug dealing. We know, but too often we allow our legal and political systems to further untruths in the name of convenience. It’s easy to catch a teenager and a hippie grandmother. The result is that resources which might have otherwise gone to finding and convicting actual producers of child porn or actual harmful drug distributors are squandered, and the individuals who pushed the agenda are free to push to ever more precarious edges. And those edges reach toward a place where justice has no meaning and can have no authority. The actual gray areas, which are crucial for us to explore that we may better understand the world and ourselves, disappear in order to establish a nursery school palette of primary colors to classify everything as simply as possible; giving us a paint by number ruberick that any idiot can follow. So we don’t have to go to the trouble to explain or, god forbid, think. So we can fall back on outrage when anything makes us uncomfortable and forget about all that tiresome critical thinking. It’s the thread that, once pulled, unravels the whole sweater.

The virtual world is just as tainted by this human game as the concrete-and-sky world. Humans, being the constant, import their vices along with their virtues. Sitting behind the mask of an avatar often lends the distance necessary to unburden ourselves and be truthful, but that same distance also gives us the length of rope with which to be truly vile and hang one another. And that vileness breeds itself, convinces itself it has both nobility and purpose.

Combating this invasive species of sophism isn’t just the responsibility for writers of important subject matter. In the beginning I felt that blogging about make believe clothes meant that I could take a pass on caring about hypocrites and liars. I wanted to just maintain my own standards and not engage because with attention-seeking glowworms, to address them is their own sort of victory. But as I’ve blogged virtual consumerism in Second Life and watched the community develop around it, my feelings have shifted. The silence and indifference of people who would maintain standards is just as destructive as those who prance around advocating drama for its own sake.

So I’ve decided a few things are non-negotiable. Honesty matters. Integrity matters. Ethics are not flexible. Even in the world of make-believe clothes. This is not to say that I won’t color outside the lines from time to time — I simply have to push myself to acknowledge when I do, if for no other reason than to demarcate the point where I crossed over and will cross back. No one can maintain an ideal all the time, but we can endeavor to know what the ideal is, to adhere to it when we can, and acknowledge (winking, smiling, crying or on our knees as the individual case may dictate) when we fall short.

I can do that. When all is said and done, it’s just not that hard.

Manifestos about who does and doesn’t belong in a place are meaningless. Venting without purpose is vanity. Building a reputation on unresearched, out-of-context facts, and outright lies you go back and edit out later is cheap. And every time a person that knows the difference makes excuses for or turns a blind, exhausted eye upon these practices, the good things, the fun things, and those elements of the world that are worth a good fight, disappear under a groupthink veil of mendacity.

Simple translation: sometimes you gotta clap to bring Tink back to life or the whole damn play just stalls.

I want to enjoy my SL. I want to still have fun writing about silly make-believe frippery. I want to offer honest, well-defended opinions about unnecessary things without wading through the circus that seems to have formed around the community. I don’t get to make the world and no amount of wishing will change that, but I can change how I interact with the world. In that sense the world really can be what I want to make of it.

The past few weeks have afforded me a painful, but valuable perspective and clarity:
1. But for a handful of people in the world, I don’t have to give a fig about what anyone else thinks;
2. Quality begets quality and good work will attract attention and readership for the right reasons;
3. The only real power we have to change what frustrates us is to refuse it entry into ourselves;
4. Approval and applause are meaningless.

I don’t know that this internal change will have any noticeable effect on my subject matter or writing style. I do know it already makes me feel a little more free and a little less heart-heavy.

That can only be a good thing.

“Among my most prized possessions are the words that I have never spoken” ~ Orson Rega Card

Kitty is experiencing a loss of inventory issue that really highlights some of the reasons it’s so hard to pitch Second Life as a professional medium. Anyone who has ever tried to explain Second Life to someone in a business sense runs into a barrage of issues, and some of them are so fundamental to those who deal in data-as-commodity that it becomes embarrassing to fess up to the elements were Linden Labs drops the ball.

Let’s face it, maintaining customer data is the most basic of all online responsibilities between platform and user base. Web hosts, gaming, social platforms — all of these know that maintaining the integrity of their customer data is their bread and butter. They have procedures for recovering losses and the big players generally have backup systems for their backup systems.

When I had an inventory loss issue over a year ago, I had to make three separate customer service contacts before I was given the information that re-established my inventory. Three. And the procedure itself is simply idiotic (clear cache on SL and system, go to a low-activity/lag Linden sim, wait X minutes for your inventory to load and see if your items are magically restored). Really? That’s the procedure? I do the SL hokey pokey and I turn myself about?

Now, try explaining this in a board room, or in a phone conference. Try pitching the idea to advertisers or potential investors that virtual goods have value, just like real-world goods. Then try explaining that when those goods disappear the consumer has no real recourse beyond crossing their fingers and following some silly procedures. Then do the math on why corporations cannot deal with the Linden Labs model.

The really sad thing? This is not just a fail on LL’s part, it’s also a missed opportunity.

Pssst — hey, Linden Lab. Want to increase the number of paid accounts overnight? Offer paid accounts the ability to back-up their inventories once a week and give them one free “restore inventory from most recent back-up” per year. After that charge them $X per back-up. Sure, it’s something you should be offering in the first place, but your user base has so little faith in you and so little trust in your ability to maintain our data that most of us would probably pay extra just to have some assurance that you’ve got a baseline motivation to provide the illusion of security. You could CHARGE US EXTRA for it.

I see drawings and pictures in the poorest of huts and the dirtiest of corners. ~ Vincent Van Gogh

Fantastic story here about artist Bill Guffey who uses Google street view to find inspiration for his paintings. They’re mostly very neutral impressionist pieces, but then I’ve always been a sucker for impressionists. I blame Don McLean.

“Friendship is essentially a partnership.” ~ Aristotle

I’m not addressing the new SL web interface yet because I can’t decide if it sucks as much as I think, or I’m just opposed to change in general. Both are possible. So, let’s table that for a day when I’m in the mood for a more fair-minded look at it.

A common question I’ve gotten from my friends over the last year is why I haven’t unpartnered with Sabrina in SL. The answer is unexpectedly complicated. While I do miss the redhead’s presence in my life, I’m not in any sort of denial that she’s moved on from virtual knickers and escaped back to that reality place I keep hearing about where she blogs about shiny Irish things with her usual snark and delight.

There are all kinds of friendships, and Sabrina’s and mine is best when we are working on something together, pushing each other to do better, exhausting each other with debates about ethics and standards and complaining about why we don’t have the goddess-like powers over others that we so richly deserve. Our current status is in flux which is not uncommon for people who are long distances apart and who maintain relationships that ebb in and out of sync. I do not really doubt that we will tangle up later down the road any more than I doubted we would fall out of line. Of the people in my life I speak to everyday or near-everyday on the phone, Sabrina was never one of them. We are good in text, at a certain pace, and when we align on projects. Otherwise, we’re “at a distance” people and we know this about one another.

When we partnered in SL lo those many years ago, it was for a single reason — to keep from being hit on by wankers with epeens for brains. At the time, we discussed and toyed with the idea of having an SL wedding for blogging purposes — to research and examine the wedding industry in SL. I think we got as far as cake shopping and holding one meeting with a woman who did prim “animated invitations” before we both realized we’d honestly rather buy off the rack at JC Penny, die, and be forced to wear that day’s shopping through all eternity.

Mocking SL partnership was a gag for us, but it stopped being funny when we realized how seriously others took it. I try with all my vanity-soaked heart not to look down on the fun and interactions of others, even if the whole make-believe wedding and baby industry in SL makes me cringe. I do, however, appreciate that for those who cannot marry the person they love IRL or have a child, being able to engage with the idea on a virtual level is something that might register as meaningful. That is their choice and should be, at least on some level, respected (so long as they do not wear a talking fetus in my chat range).

Their virtual experiences should especially be respected by the platform that pimps itself as the land of of dreams imagination.

There is something — I must admit — to the formality with which LL addresses this textual tether. The fact that it’s even a feature means it registered as a meaningful concept for someone. As much as I mock it, every time I try to change my partner status something quirky and unexpectedly sentimental simply refuses to let me. Sabrina’s avatar no longer appears in the SL database (do NOT get me started) and her SIM is long since offline. Except for that spot on my profile and the occasional items in my inventory where the wench’s name appears as creator, she’s mostly grid-gone.

Today, however, I toyed with the idea of going partner commando again, only to be greeted by the following:

A fee? To unpartner? Seriously? Has this always been the case? I laughed out loud and then felt surprisingly sick.

This strikes me as fundamentally tacky on LL’s part. I can understand and even get behind a fee to partner. In fact, I’m not sure what the fee is, but I’d probably support increasing it by a bunch. Charging someone a fee to unpartner, though, is ten degrees of gross all over.

One of the things about platforms of online immersion is the bonds that form between individuals. Sure, SL partnering is a joke to me, but there are those for whom it’s a meaningful statement. While I’m sure the vast majority of people who partner and unpartner on a regular basis are just relationship flakes, I’m willing to bet quite a few of those who partner are not. To have to deal with the destruction of a relationship carries its own price, I don’t think there’s any merit to attaching a fee to the reminder.

Imagine, for just a moment, that you have an SL partnership and the person dies, or you have a bitter break-up, or any one of the million things happens that pull people apart. The bookkeeping of breaking up digitally can be just as annoying as it is RL. Sure, you don’t have to sort who owns what CDs and books, but I know people who’ve stopped using social networking sites, switched game servers, abandoned forums in the “you stay on your half of the internet, I’ll stay on mine” sort of attitude that can result when people break up on the interwebs. All of that is ignoring the actual emotional toll that is ferried by the very human feelings we can have for people who do not necessarily sit beside us, but who are part of the mosaic of our digital lives.

No matter the circumstances, odds are when you get to the “I wish to unpartner” phase, you’re not going to be in the best of moods. It’s something you’d like to get done quickly and cleanly. And, Linden Labs, in what must be either an insipid lack of empathy or a very tiny streak of moronic avarice charges L$25 for the pain and bitterness of residents going through this motion. How tacky is that?

Guys, if you want to discourage people from abusing the system then double the cost of partnering and get rid of the break-up penalty fee. It’s too disgusting. Does the partnering system even use up enough resources to justify a fee? You don’t charge us for removing someone from our friends list and that has to be at least as equally taxing on the system.

Give the scarecrow a brain, the tin man a heart, and smack whoever is wanking off behind the curtain when they’re supposed to have the thinking cap on. Oy. Frickin’. Vey.