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Brandy and Clint in Second Life
Sep. 15th, 2006 12:48 pmSecond Life is a big ol' virtual environment in which you can do all the fun, social things that you can do in MMORPGs without all that tiresome gaming bollocks; it's got private and public areas, all users can make stuff, objects can have sophisticated scripting and there's an economy that has a real-world exchange rate. It's very similar to a 1.0 flavour of the Street in Neal Stephenson's Snow Crash.
In Snow Crash, it is observed that there are lower orders or users: there's a class system on the Street just like in meatspace. And Stephenson is right, there is. The standard avatars in the book are Brandy and Clint, simple low-poly humans. In 2L it's much the same: your basic avatar is a medium-poly human with simple textured clothing.
Brandy and Clint are trailer trash. A default avatar screams newbie or worse, someone who doesn't get the whole avatar thing, and they get blanked in conversation. It's assumed they don't know how to move around, that they don't have anything to contribute, and that they'll have annoying n00bish questions. Nobody looks at a newbie avatar twice.
Worse than a default is a kludge. These guys have time but no style - and given that style is about the only tradeable commodity in a world with no need for food, shelter or breeding, that's a sin. Woe unto thee if thy avatar is coloured with pallette maxes, or (oh heinous crime) your tattoos pixellate when you get up close. And people do get up close; this isn't your FPS tribe skin, not by a long way. Users gather round campfires for a natter or snuggle up in hot-tubs (thoughtfully provided with "relax" "chill" and "cuddle" animations).
Neal's not the doubleprescient god of prediction quite. He didn't imagine the staggering number of moderately-escapist avatars - mostly anthropomorphic animals. Some of the furries are very, very good, but there's a strong tendency to stay anthro: what you don't see many of are mantises or slime moulds or Elder Things, and the R2D2 skin is just for parties. And there are no dinosaurs or giant walking penises, at least, not that I've seen. But otherwise he's spot on: make a good, slick, elegant, original avatar and you're immediately in the five percent. Don't, and you're always playing catch-up.
In Snow Crash, it is observed that there are lower orders or users: there's a class system on the Street just like in meatspace. And Stephenson is right, there is. The standard avatars in the book are Brandy and Clint, simple low-poly humans. In 2L it's much the same: your basic avatar is a medium-poly human with simple textured clothing.
Brandy and Clint are trailer trash. A default avatar screams newbie or worse, someone who doesn't get the whole avatar thing, and they get blanked in conversation. It's assumed they don't know how to move around, that they don't have anything to contribute, and that they'll have annoying n00bish questions. Nobody looks at a newbie avatar twice.
Worse than a default is a kludge. These guys have time but no style - and given that style is about the only tradeable commodity in a world with no need for food, shelter or breeding, that's a sin. Woe unto thee if thy avatar is coloured with pallette maxes, or (oh heinous crime) your tattoos pixellate when you get up close. And people do get up close; this isn't your FPS tribe skin, not by a long way. Users gather round campfires for a natter or snuggle up in hot-tubs (thoughtfully provided with "relax" "chill" and "cuddle" animations).
Neal's not the doubleprescient god of prediction quite. He didn't imagine the staggering number of moderately-escapist avatars - mostly anthropomorphic animals. Some of the furries are very, very good, but there's a strong tendency to stay anthro: what you don't see many of are mantises or slime moulds or Elder Things, and the R2D2 skin is just for parties. And there are no dinosaurs or giant walking penises, at least, not that I've seen. But otherwise he's spot on: make a good, slick, elegant, original avatar and you're immediately in the five percent. Don't, and you're always playing catch-up.
