“When envoys are sent with compliments in their mouths, it is a sign that the enemy intends a truce.” ~ Sun Tzu

So last Thursday at the Slip, I was doing the usual shuffle of trying to be all hostess-y during concerts balanced against the general IM parade when I received what can only be regarded as the most backhanded compliment ever. The gent to blame (nameless here to protect the anything but innocent) left for the night and bade farewell by sending me the following IM:

Nameless Non-Innocent: You really have a sexy avatar — there aren’t many who can pull off a tablecloth and make it look hot.

I fixed spelling errors, punctuation and capitalization, but otherwise that’s word for word.

So, let’s start with the fact that the guy is a sort-of-acquaintance-but-mostly-total-stranger. He knows friends I know, or seems to, but we don’t engage in more than hello and goodbye on occasion. So this comment comes 100% out of the blue. I’m pretty sure it was well-intended — which is kinda the most cringe-y part of the entire thing.

Also, how do you respond to compliments about an avatar being “sexy” or “hot?” I mean, I didn’t work out for this bod or spend hours on my hair and make-up. Do I think my avatar is cute and nummy? Yes — she fits my personal tastes. Do I appreciate other people may or may not feel the same? Of course. Would I take any feedback negative or positive personally? Um. How?

Don’t get me wrong — I appreciate it when someone says they like the sort of style I project, or when they squee over an outfit I put together. To me, that reflects a symbiotic pixel vanity and I do allow a smile here and there when someone compliments my aesthetic choices. But the “sexiness” thing always leaves me wanting to smirk and reply “thanks, your slider settings get me really hot, too.” But, you just know the sarcasm would be lost. To be fair, I don’t handle these sorts of compliments well IRL, either. Basically what someone is saying is they like the lot you drew in the genetic lottery. I suppose, comparing the two, at least I picked my own slider settings.

Most importantly of all, the dress I was wearing was a-fucking-dorable and deserves more than to be labeled a tablecloth!

One Shoulder Lace Dress from *COCO*

Meet the One-Shoulder Lace Dress from COCO. Yes, I know it’s shamelessly frilly and girly, but it’s the end of Summer and this breezy little number begged wearing. Admittedly, it’s not my normal fare (if for no other reason than I don’t generally like one-shoulder anything) but there’s something sweet about it. Fair warning — it was a bitch to fit to my fashion-waif shape; I had to shrink the lace ruffle sculpts quite a bit and I had to prim-by-prim fit the skirt.

As lace flirting with sheer goes, I appreciate efforts like these put out by designers because they cover all the important bits and allow for a delicate, feminine look that flashes a lot of skin, but keeps you on the “good girl” side of the tracks. As there are soon going to be a bunch of kids wandering around the grid next to us, I imagine that will become more important. Saints preserve us all.

The dress also comes in ecru/beige and black in addition to the white I selected. And the ruffles can be used as a stand alone top if you’re into that sort of thing.

Icing - Princess Pearls

I accessorized with the perfect-with-anything Princess Pearls from Icing — which I’m relatively sure every woman in SL must have in their inventory. If they don’t…I cannot imagine why.

As for the shoes, I’m doing a second entry on them. Stay Tuned.

Where Does She Get Those Wonderful Toys:

One-Shoulder Lace Dress - L$300
*COCO*
http://slurl.com/secondlife/COCO%20DESIGNS/86/118/521

Princess Pearls Set - L$195
Icing
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Mischief/126/175/25

“So far, we’ve built awareness. Seven years ago we weren’t a very well known brand. Now we are, and now we have to build preference and emotional attachment.” ~ David Steel

A couple days ago I watched the Second Life brand die a particularly ugly death. One I’m not sure they can revive from and one I’m not sure they deserve to be revived from.

The assassin was a young geek with comedic timing coupled with an appearance and shtick based on Nicholas Brendon circa 1998. Chris Pirillo has some deserved geek cred and comes up with watch-able YouTube stuffage. He’s somewhat knowledgeable and entertaining and I imagine he gets the positive and negative attention that comes with that combination in this forward-frenzy age of all things viral.

And every so often, like all of us, he takes the easy route when asked a legitimate question:

Chris Pirillo on “Whatever happened to Second Life” Take One:

This is what Second Life’s brand has become to the current generation of fine young geekibals.

In all fairness to Chris, there was a time when Second Life, socially, was healthy and happy with little more than porn and gambling. And I don’t mean the elite class of Second Life — I mean the casual user. The “addicted” part is a might unfair. Games of luck have existed at least as long as history has been worth recording, and so have depictions of sexuality. Most people have a guilty pleasure be it gambling, porn, techno-gadget lust, virtual paper dolls, good sippin’ whiskey, or bad 80’s music. But our peccadilloes are not what define us and they shouldn’t be the details that define our societies.

We spend a lot of time declaring “RL” and “SL” in our speech — and I appreciate the movement to stop that practice, even if I don’t abide by it. Because SL is, in many ways RL. It’s sort of like the Dagobah Dark Side Cave:
“What’s in there?”
“Only what you take with you.”

Put another way: “We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars,” is ever true in both virtual and real worlds (Oscar knew everything but a good lawyer).

But, let’s look at it from Pirillo’s point of view. There are a lot of people in Second Life doing wondrous things, but they aren’t the average user and those wondrous things aren’t necessarily what will woo a mainstream audience into the format (or even what will woo the current generation of geek). So if you just have a specific elite class working to impress that same elite class and a bunch of other people running around trying to indulge their peccadilloes — what is someone like Chris supposed to come away with?

What Chris got right was his very valid opinion — that Second Life is a crummy product that has failed to capture the imagination of someone like himself. What he got wrong was why — mostly because he simply took the easy out. (Also, he was uninformed about our gambling having been taken away from us — more’s the pity).

To his credit, however, the kid is a trooper and he didn’t just continue to mock and roll his eyes. When attacked by the community in ways I can’t even begin to imagine and don’t want to read, he engaged a few calm voices and re-evaluated his point of view:

The ungodly second take:

This is what Second Life’s brand is, even for those fine young geekibals willing to take a second chance.

I also tried to listen to the Phaylen Fairchild interview, but I couldn’t get beyond the introduction. If you can and must, the link is here.

I can’t fathom what the poor kid could possibly have to say beyond this point, but the thing that’s clear to me is that he’s done his due diligence. He’s done better by SL than SL has done by him. And that is a harsh, cold reality if you’re trying to evaluate the outreach SL has made toward inviting new users to the table — or even in trying to lure indifferent users back.

Second Life and Linden Lab have murdered a brand that had every chance to be the top of its game for a very long time. It happened through incompetence. It happened through indifference. It happened through arrogance. But, the more I reflect on it, I really think it largely happened because Linden Lab did the same thing Chris did in his initial video — they scorned their user base instead of evaluating the product honestly. For me, this started when they took the coward’s way out instead of defending their user base against the shock-and-awe wave of news stories that revealed *gasp* people were doing naughty things on teh interwebs.

There is a lot of hostility that wafts from Linden Lab toward its users — that sense of eye-rolling that we are all crazy cat ladies and griefer vandals (when we’re not busy being porn addicts that have to be led by the wrist between “Adult” and “Non-Adult” and “Whatever Mature Means” sections of a needlessly over-segregated grid). For the last several years the old Microsoft mantra of “you’ll get what we give you” has been their MO (hint to LL: even Microsoft had to dial that back to keep up, guys). And when pushed up against silly reporting they didn’t take the high road and say “if our users want adult experiences in our platform, that’s their option and we defend their privacy. Second Life is no different from the real world in that adults will spend their time pursuing different social options — be it a night at the opera or a stripper jumping out of a make-believe cake. Now, if I could draw your attention to the money our community has raised for cancer research and the work some of our users are doing to help handicapped individuals explore mobility options…”

Boo-yeah. Dismissed. Moving on.

Instead we got the Robin “deer in headlights” moment which has come to define the “not ready for prime time” reality of the Linden Lab program. LL doesn’t appear to have moved beyond that point. It’s as though they dismissed their user base for embarrassing them instead of bridging the gaps that led them to realize they were out of touch with what was happening on the grid.

Ivory towers kill brands.

What people fail to realize about Facebook games and Twitter social networking is the simplest aspect. Sure, there’s ease of use and the accessibility on the deck, but underneath there is the sense that those tools and entertainments are living languages. Second Life is becoming the Latin of virtual worlds. Sure, you have to study it, but no one really *uses* it anymore except those freaks up in their elite clubhouses.

Can we turn it around? As a user base that has been dismissed from the table? I don’t see how. Not until Linden Lab invites us back. The more frightening question — does Linden Lab want to turn it around? Or is this now the final product that will be stripped down into chatroom / facebook friendliness with point-and-click virtual shopping options to turn profits and no longer push the boundaries of “whatif?”

I’m waiting, hopefully, to see that is not the case. The firing of Qarl and Philip’s inability to talk straight about real goals, however, leave me edgy and disheartened. And yet, still here, unwilling to let go of the possibilities of “whatif.”

To steal an abbreviated moment from James Goldman’s The Lion in Winter:
Eleanor of Aquitaine: “How, from where we started, did we ever reach this…?”
Henry II: “Step by step.”

“We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.” ~ H. P Lovecraft

Blog Entry Warning: Lots o’ Photos and Personal Blather. Run.

A few years back, when my SL businesses were flourishing, I officially opened The Freudian Slip. It was little more than some decking, beanbag chairs, and waaaaay too many poseballs, and my musician friends had been playing on it before the launch, but it was a good enough reason for a shindig and it netted me the blonde wench, so I call that worth it.

The Freudian Slip: First Draft

Back then, the Slip was parceled and planned to add to the dwell and traffic of my texture store, Esprit Decor, which, at the time, combined with ads for Linden Lifestyles, covered tier, musician fees, and still provided me with a healthy supplemental income. I paid L$5000 per hour to musicians who brought in 25+ and L$3000 per hour to those who brought in less than 25 listeners. We hosted concerts 4-5 days a week. It turned into a lot more work than I wanted, but what developed was a community that I was not expecting; the little gaggle of folk have been the main pleasure of my SL existence ever since.

Unlike a lot of venues, the Slip is about camaraderie. We prattle a lot. Sarcasm is our native language and there is really no end of it. Although we are fundamentally there for the music, we are also there for the repartee. As such, the etiquette of the place balks at text blocks of “woo hoo” and focuses on actively engaging those around you in humor and ranting. This tends to intimidate newcomers, and I only half-regret that; while I want strangers to feel welcome, I don’t want to change our habits to accommodate those who want to copy and paste scrolling blocks of text. There are lots of places out there with the typical club atmosphere; I believe there’s nothing wrong in establishing a venue that instead recognizes the unique opportunity SL offers to the live music community. IRL if you’re talking during a musical performance, you’re a dweeb, but in SL it’s just the opposite and I think that should be embraced.

As my circumstances changed, I retired the Slip from being a fully operating music venue. For one thing, I was unable to offer the fees I felt worthy musicians deserve for their time. Second, there stopped being a wealth of people I wanted to listen to. So the Slip became focused exclusively on performances offered by Grace McDunnough and Lyndon Heart, with old friends occasionally tossed into the mix. Although I still get regular requests from musicians to play, I generally decline them. Until I can come up with a profitable model to run a music venue, I don’t want to appear to be back “in business.” And keeping the place a delight instead of a job is fundamental to maintaining the pleasure of it.

When I redesigned the Slip, I wanted to keep its charms in mind while also providing a lush, immersive atmosphere. The grid is exhausted with ugly, cookie-cutter, mall-draped music venues; I wanted a showplace. Dwell and traffic now being all but useless, I moved the venue away from the stores and, with the help of a good friend who has terraform-fu, was able to seclude it. Starting with a blank slate of sand and hills, what developed has become something I am genuinely thrilled to share with friends and visitors.

The Freudian Slip - Bird's Eye View

The “center” of the Slip is still a dock where the main congregation of sits and dances are within chat range of each other and the stage. Nearly everything is sit-able — from the sacks and barrels of goods to the rivets and posts of the deck. The large pile of lumber serves as a dance machine with a simple “sway to the music” animation people can opt for.

Freudian Slip : Main Deck

I tried to get rid of all poseballs, with only couples dances being the monkey wrench in my gears. In the spirit of compromise, I changed the dance balls into butterflies (on land) and fish (underwater).

Freudian Slip - Fish Disguised Dance Balls

Freudian Slip - Butterfly Disguised Dance Balls

Placing an emphasis on couples (which I’m not sure is warranted, but we’ll see) I tried to make sure there were plenty of couples sits. I placed them into coils of rope and bags of jewels so that those coming to listen and lounge could snuggle and still banter if they wanted. For those who wanted to listen, but move off from the group, there are snuggle hammocks on the main beach, as well as up on the hill top over the cave.

Freudian Slip - Hammocks

Freudian Slip - Couples Ropes

Admittedly, I went a little crazy with landscaping. The “Slipwreck” provides an amazing off-Sim backdrop, trapped upon rocks with breaking waves. I can’t stop taking photos of the damn thing.

Freudian Slip - Slipwreck Stormy Day

Freudian Slip - Slipwreck Sunset

Freudian Slip - Slipwreck Aurora Nights

Moai stand like sentinels from the shore, and there are runic stones and other tribal markers amid the tiki posts and lush foliage. I filled them with “fly” animations for fun, and I have to say, they are some of the best sculpts I’ve ever seen.

Moai @ The Freudian Slip

Freudian Slip : Birds of Paradise

Freudian Slip : Menhir Tribal Monument Stones

I wanted to keep a hint of the old Slip, so I placed our pet Squid (he’s actually an octopus named Squid) out lurking in the water and kept the compass rose cog-style stage, even though it no longer rotates.

Freudian Slip - Stage

Although I was bullied into disposing of my music monkeys, flamingos, and toucans, I added “Skelebard” propped up on the cannon behind the stage — as a warning to those who need to be kept in line.

Freudian Slip - Skelebard

There is even a hidden treasure cove for explorers who want to find a little nook to sequester themselves into.

Freudian Slip - Cave Exterior

Not a gifted builder, I’m much more of an assembler. Pulling from the depths of my inventory and from some of the more gifted content creators on the grid, I was able to create my own little slice of paradise.

Eventually, I may be offering the space for event rentals — I put a Tiki Hut DJ pavilion on the main beach for casual parties and such, but for now, I’m just genuinely happy to have a music venue that looks different from the rest and that feels, once more, like home.

Freudian Slip - Party Pavilion

Freudian Slip - Tiki Hut Hammy & Birdcage

It’s a public space, and anyone is invited to explore, snuggle or hang out. The music stream is set to a Beatles-only channel and I recommend sunset until the aurora borealis appears in the sky, at which time, midnight is mandatory.

Where Did She Get Those Wonderful Toys?
(In No Particular Order)

Dock Crane
Fish Buckets
Fish Traps
Menhir Tribal Monument Stones
Net Maker Rack
Runic Dolmen Stones
Rustic Warning Bell
Sail Maker Rack
Laufey Markstein
T R I D E N T
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Nordmaar/110/125/500

Assorted Palms
Palm Hammock
Tobias Novi
Tree House Designs
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Mycenae/102/91/32

Lock Stocks
Rustic Suspended Cage
Suspension Post
Treasure Chests
Ashade Sinister
Shade Fantasy Outfitters
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Crooked%20Earth/182/81/38

Shipwreck
BETLOG Hax
https://www.xstreetsl.com/modules.php?name=Marketplace&MerchantID=84453

Naima Coraline Barrier
Naiman Broome
Las Islas
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Las%20Lagunas/233/220/22

1 Prim Wildflowers
Birdcage
Hammock Tree
Oriolus Oliva
The Golden Oriole
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Verdigris/63/68/71

Mermaid Sculptures
Pumpkin Tripsa
Chakra Nova
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Rafail/128/66/2508

Birds of Paradise
Logan Bauer
Arctic Greenhouse
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Alternate%20Reality/142/141/55

KALAMA Palm With Egg Swing
POIPU Tiki Hut Dancefloor & DJ Booth
Hatzfeld Runo
Tiki Tattoo
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Tiki%20Tattoo%20Cove/10/173/421

Aurora Borealis
Various Plants
Kriss Lehmann
Botanical
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Straylight/183/52/25

Tiki Posts
Sally Seattle
REZOLUTION
http://slurl.com/secondlife/Deco/241/23/21

Moai Sculpts
Astolpho Majestic

“Every location has its sweet spot.” ~ Sean Collins

I grew up a stone’s throw from the Florida Keys, which meant that it was not all that unusual for some random family member to convince the kinfolk to corral all the nieces and nephews, their bathing suits, a few beach towels, and other odds and ends into their cars and caravan the whole motley crew down to Key Largo or Islamorada for an extended weekend of “wear the brats out until they’re sunburned and exhausted so we can ditch them in the hotel rooms and go get rum runners.” (Remember, it was the 70s and adults were allowed to be adults, they didn’t have to pretend like their lives began and ended with entertaining children). It was less common for us to make it all the way down to Key West, but there were plenty of times I watched expectantly for Osprey nests on telephone poles and tried to see if I could hold my breath all the way across Seven Mile Bridge (my Uncle Mark came up with that game; the man was diabolical) in anticipation of being able to count toes on the cats outside Hemingway House.

In my memory I don’t recall ever once staying at a hotel that had a national chain attached to it, or eating at a restaurant that had an existing counterpart anywhere on the mainland. Mostly I remember renting brightly painted trailers with an outstanding view of the ocean, mom-and-pop diners with conch fritters to die for, and hippie pottery / craft / art shops in every little nook and crannie that wasn’t occupied by a bar. Over the course of my childhood I purchased more shell necklaces and flip flops from street vendors than seems humanly possible. I’m sure my memory is washed in that nostalgia-haze where everything just seems better, but the last time I went to they Keys I loathed it. It just wasn’t the same; the charm had been dispelled and everything was national chains, splashy graphics, and bloated tourists complaining about the heat. Burger King and Margaritaville had invaded and if there was a surviving old timer, it had been made over into some tarty version of itself (say it ain’t so, Sloppy Joe…).

My childhood experiences of the Keys came some thirty to forty years after the Hemingway days, so I could not be considered an early adopter. I’m not sure I’d have wanted to be, given what I know of the way things were then. I’m sure it was a magical and fascinating place in its own way, but if Hemingway felt at home, I certainly wouldn’t. Now, some thirty years or so after my childhood time spent there, I’m no longer in tune with the place. It has bumped into the mainstream and is chugging along like an overcrowded machine that promises unique experiences packaged nicely in the same ribbons and bows you can find everywhere else — don’t worry, you’ll not experience any disconnection from everything that you’ve been programmed to understand as pleasure.

Yes, that’s a wee bit on the cynical side, but so is Margaritaville.

My fond memories of the Florida Keys fall into what I think of as the “Sophomore Sweet Spot.” This is the phase after the early adopters have cast their spells to transform a unique bit of real estate (virtual or otherwise) into something captivating, but before the inevitable, capitalism-fueled lust of appealing to the mainstream has battered the soul out of it. I have spent my life chasing the Sophomore Sweet Spot and have decided it’s both the highest high and the most bitter pill.

The thing about serial intermediate generation adopters like myself is that we tend to be halfway between idealist and pragmatist; we’re more than the pedestrian user, but less often the obsessive genius type that can froth a project to boiling by sheer will. We appreciate everything the early adopters do and we often admire them, but we can’t help rolling our eyes at their reindeer games and hyperbolic methods of deciding who is more X or Y and crying about how every little change is a harbinger that the sky is falling. At the same time, we can identify when the tides are shifting toward that wrenching moment of invasion when every lovely, soft corner will soon be infected with neon light, and when the same old grind is meaninglessly repackaged to cover the fact that there’s no longer room to take a chance and present something creative because the bottom line no longer accommodates the risk associated with things like “challenging” or “daring” or “new.”

The Sophomore Sweet Spot is the place between excavation and obliteration, between the first date and the painful break-up over coffee. It’s the creamy center between the hard dry cookie crusts. It’s always worth the trouble, but it really sucks when it’s over. Watching something shine golden and then fade into joylessness is just plain depressing… as any Ponyboy could tell you.

Lately, I’ve been feeling a sort of Gamer-anhedonia and I’ve been waiting for the next hit of something, like an addict jonesing for a fix. WOW is done for me, I think; I’ve been bored in the format for a long time and I’ve looked at the changes coming to healing with Cataclysm and they inspire me to want to play about as much as a brick to the head. I have zero desire to dip back toward Eve or EQ2 or Warhammer or any of the once-trod territory of “been there, done that” land. I don’t enjoy consoles anymore because no matter how awesome the graphics or interesting the storylines, NPC-only formats just don’t feel like real gaming anymore. I’ve tried a few free MMOs and it’s all so meh, and traditional games like Settlers of Catan Online can be fun, but they’re just a sip of whiskey, distracting and pleasant but unable to fan the flames after the initial buzz burns off.

Don’t get me wrong; I have plenty to do. Between learning to code, building projects, writing, etc., the last thing I need is a new shiny funtoi to distract me from real work. But we all need down time and things to rejuv our gray matter and it’s a little frustrating to look around at all there is and realize so much of it is the same boring rehash of point-and-click kill or upgrade-and-wait crafting. I’ve never seen so much of nothing new before and I don’t see a Sophomore Sweet Spot anywhere on the horizon.

It’s all so stupid and contagious; where’s the entertainment?

“There is a powerful tension in our relationship to technology. We are excited by egalitarianism and anonymity, but we constantly fight for our identity.” ~ David Owens

This is a rambling train-of-thought post. Proofreading it was a nightmare; I can’t imagine why you’d want to read it, but if you do, know that persons attempting to find a plot within it will be shot.

It’s strange to me that the Blizzard / Battle.net controversy only hit stride yesterday. I got my first “Real ID” email on the 13th of last month and knew there was darkness on the horizon. True, it didn’t contain the official forums tidbit, and was worded in such a way to highlight how everything is (at this point) optional. So maybe that explains why the enormity of the consequences didn’t set in until now. Or maybe privacy is already so on the ropes that it takes a fortnight for people to connect dots these days.

From a purely cynical point of view, it’s brilliantly timed. Those users who might be pissed and cancel in protest are likely to be lured back soon after by Cataclysm (…or StarCraft, or Diablo III…).

The official line and a lot of the conversation seems to believe the Battle.net requirement is merely a smirking corporate tactic they’re hoping will silence a lot of negativity on the public forums (which, in theory, will reduce the energy that is expended on moderation). Blizzard’s own babble backs this.

The official forums have always been a great place to discuss the latest info on our games, offer ideas and suggestions, and share experiences with other players — however, the forums have also earned a reputation as a place where flame wars, trolling, and other unpleasantness run wild. Removing the veil of anonymity typical to online dialogue will contribute to a more positive forum environment, promote constructive conversations, and connect the Blizzard community in ways they haven’t been connected before. With this change, you’ll see blue posters (i.e. Blizzard employees) posting by their real first and last names on our forums as well.

Most of these assumptions are demonstrably untrue, and ignore the troubling implications.

* Forum administrators will be vulnerable and serve at a disadvantage while their real-life information becomes fodder all over the internet.
* Vile people will be just as vile under their own names as they will under a handle. Talk shows, Reality TV and Girls Gone Wild videos are the majority rule and those people don’t wear Guy Fawkes masks to act like morons or say disgusting things. Social and criminal deterrents only work when there are consequences that deter people from their own natures.
* It’s easier to impose stricter rules and employ technology solutions than it is to police a user base. Trying to impose a false sense of positive by bulling away negative criticism is ultimately self-defeating.
* Devaluing your own forums and driving people to third party formats in search of free speech makes you a second-class delivery system in your own market. When people stop visiting the official forums, Blizzard will have to work harder to monitor third-party forum sites to find out what their customers are saying/thinking and will have to spend more on promotion efforts to get their messages out. This is bad juju.
* Blizzard actively recruits and markets to children; the first time a kid’s real name gets used for something sinister, it’s crying moms and abused children vs. Big Bad Blizzard’s greedy corporate policy. Throw in an ambitious lawyer and you’ll end up with a class-action lawsuit just for putting kids at risk.
* God help them if they try and make this retroactive, or there’s a tech glitch and information from past posts are revealed without user consent.

Blizzard is usually nothing if not self-serving and hyper-protective of their legal liabilities. So why the dumb move? What’s the advantage? Do they think being able to provide users with the ability to network inside their own system is more important than focusing on gameplay/immersion, developing the relationships between users and their avatars, or updating content faster? It looks like it. They’re misreading their role as that of a communication provider, instead of being an entertainment provider with outlets to communication-based venues.

With the launch of the new Battle.net, it’s important to us to create a new and different kind of online gaming environment — one that’s highly social, and which provides an ideal place for gamers to form long-lasting, meaningful relationships. All of our design decisions surrounding Real ID — including these forum changes — have been made with this goal in mind.

You can almost see some out of touch suit sitting around spouting things like “we gotta be more like that Facebooky stuff — why aren’t we doing Facebook things? Farmville is killing us!” while his R&D department head tries not to commit seppuku in the middle of the boardroom.

It looks like they’re trying for the Disney World model, where once you show up, you never have to leave for anything. Except that sort of thing only works at Disney World because WDW provides for every guest need. Food, clothing, transportation, emergency services, entertainment, etc, are all catered to. It’s stupid to attempt this sort of this thing when you only offer one product (entertainment/activity) and that product is, let’s face it, waning. Improving the flow of communication between users and their social networking is certainly crucial. Trying to establish themselves as a closed-circuit hub (and doing so while imposing constraints) is unfathomably dumb.

I could support (and would defend) Battle.net trying to hook up their users with outside social networking as a means to keep people inside the format, and requiring authentication for such. That’s basic, but it doesn’t require the public brandishing of user information. If I’m Jane Smith on Facebook and Jane Strangelove on Twitter and KillzYouHard on WOW, my voluntary desire to link those accounts doesn’t require my IDs being splashed all over the forums just because I hate the fact that Blizzard techs can’t ever meet their announced deadlines, or because my fishing hat lure doesn’t work after the latest patch.

Being able to monitor and interact with my social networking should be a positive thing, not a sacrificial endeavor. Blizzard could easily allow authentication and interaction without stomping all over user privacy. So why don’t they value user privacy, or believe that users value it enough to make it worth the trouble?

Well, that’s a longer post and requires a bit of personal disclosure to understand where my beliefs on the subject come from. I’ll bump it behind a jump so you can leave it here if you’d like. (more…)