Outworld, I am Vlad Spears.

Inworld, I am Vadim Amat.

They are the same person.

Ania (Ania Perfferle) and my friend Chris Martinez (Superstar DJ Sirhc Martinek) opened the Second Life world to me, and I've seen some of the light. (Actually, I've seen mostly the dark. The makers behind Second Life, Linden Lab, are located in San Francisco, and the world of Second Life runs on Pacific Daylight Time. Most of my time inworld happens post-midnight, with a moon in both my skies.)

I'll admit: I was highly reluctant to embrace Second Life simply out of concern over loss of time in an already packed schedule. What I've realized since my first reach inworld is that it's not a time sink in the way of games and television. It's a modern tool, a rich extension of your identity rather than simple-minded entertainment. It's a part of Real Life. If you have it going on out here, you'll have it going on in there.

If there's nothing out here to extend, your Second Life will be just as empty. Just as in Real Life, there is no purpose in Second Life other than the one you make for yourself. There is no ultimate goal, no mountain apex which denotes the cosmic winner, no collectively agreed upon game at all. What you do inworld, just like what you do outside in Real Life, is entirely up to you. They are the same thing.

You might be able to argue Second Life is glorified chat, but I see a crucial difference: the game-style engine provides spatial and cultural context making interactions something more than simple text communication on a screen. While the shared quests and enemies of multi-player games reinforce connections in group dynamics, they don't create the feeling of connection with others. That comes from us... it's just what people do given the proper setting. Like smokers who get hooked on the social scene a ready cigarette opens for them, Second Life allows people to instantly connect with the convenience of chat but with more social depth... "Hey... nice avatar. You're hot. Do your tattoos have meaning?"

Vadim Amat soaking up Limbik Frequencies at Skylab, Aslan. (slurl)

Second Life offers a spectacular way to collectively listen to streaming music: hanging out in gorgeously decadent clubs where you set your avatar dancing while listening to a live DJ or band. On my 17" MacBook Pro, I open Second Life in half the screen while answering emails, writing posts or working on Max patches in the other half, every so often hitting chat to tell the DJ what a phenomenal drop that was or talk to another club denizen about the music we're all listening to. Musicians who can extend their Real Life presence into Second Life may find a wonderful new route to listeners. In a virtual manifestation of my deepest science fiction dreams, many music venue builders have brilliantly chosen to place their clubs in orbit high above the continent.

Vadim Amat hanging at Trash Palace, floating above Elvarg. (slurl)

For instant, unexpected fascination exploring Second Life rocks. Teleporting to randomly chosen places on the world map will expose you to many varieties of user construction, most of which can be wandered at will: castles, squats, furry colonies, corporate office buildings, prairie homes, ruins, the bottom of the sea, the roof of the world. Because it's Second most people are still more busy in Real, and the continent has high population but sparse density at any given moment unless you hit the current hotspots. With online users of 25,000 to 35,000 at all hours, you can always find a crowd somewhere. I did walk in on a group nude in their hot-tub once, though, and was invited in.

Ultimately, this may all be rationalization. From the beginning, flying Peter Pan-like over the landscape, I was sold.