|
By JEFFERSON WEAVER
I saw on the news the other day that someone had stolen a bunch of personal information from the website “Second Life.”
Unfortunately, I was too busy with my real life at the time to worry too much about it.
Second Life, it seems, is a video game of sorts. People create idealized versions of themselves, build homes, start businesses, work, play, get married – and none of it is real.
They even buy “property” in this made-up world. I have to wonder if they pay made-up taxes, mow made-up grass and fix faux leaks in their faux roofs.
From the little bit I read, people pay real money for this privilege, thus proving yet again that some folks should never be allowed to handle their own money.
This is, I believe, a baby alligator orchestra of the first accord.
In case you’re too busy with your real life to have heard of the baby alligator orchestra, there’s a fairly famous restaurant in Jamaica where a patron has created dioramas using stuffed baby alligators.
Apparently there was a local surplus of baby alligators and a taxidermy-happy patron found a use for them. (Maybe he should open a branch at Lake Waccamaw, but that’s a column for another day.)
The fellow stuffed hundreds of baby alligators, and carefully made tiny bicycles, baseball diamonds, cars, streetscapes, and finally, as his piece de resistance, he created a full big band orchestra. He hand-sewed evening clothes for the bandmembers and dancers (both male and female), and crafted the scene as carefully as if it were being proofed by Leonardo da Vinci.
To quote my favorite author on the subject, he put meticulous detail, and thousand of hours of work, into a masterpiece that makes you wonder why anyone would do such a thing.
That’s about how I feel about the Second Life phenomenon.
Maybe the Second Life people need to learn how to fish. It seems to me, spending enough time on a computer to create a second life would leave someone lacking in physical conditioning as well as sunshine. Taking up fishing would solve both of those problems, as well as giving them not a second life, but a real one.
At last count, there were several million churches of varying denominations in this country. I’m pretty sure each of the Second Life people live within hailing distance of at least one. If they need a life, they can get a real life, an eternal one, if they’ll go find a good Bible-believing church.
If these folks need a second life, there’s always somebody, somewhere, who needs some help. Off the top of my head, I can think of the Guardians ad Litem, the Literacy Council, Boy and Girl Scouts, the Humane Society, several volunteer fire departments, a half-dozen non-profit museums and a couple of lonely old people who’d be happy to offer them a real life outside their cyberworld.
If they need entertainment, the second life person should just get a dog.
If you have a dog, you have a role model as well as a friend, as long as you follow his example and remember to roll in the grass and lie in the sunshine whenever possible.
I’m sure Second Life subscribers don’t have chickens. If you have chickens, you are never bored. Ducks are even more spellbinding.
A yard full of ducks and chickens beats any soap opera ever written for twists, turns, plots, romance and things you don’t discuss with your mother.
If you’re really bored, get a hog. I spent a good hour the other weekend playing with mine, and I can assure you chasing a hog and being chased in return is not only diverting, it’s good exercise.
I suppose, in its own way, having a life, a home and a persona on Second Life is basically harmless.
It does strike me, though, as a total waste of time.
Especially since I have grass to cut, books to read, chickens to feed, a hog to chase, fish to catch, prayer meeting and choir on Wednesday and Sunday services, fire department training on Monday, and a job.
Plus, hunting season has started in earnest, I’d like to finish building my shop sometime this year, and I really should spend an afternoon with Miss Rhonda at her parents’ place.
Then there’s the truck I need to work on, oil to change, and the new rabbit pen to complete. Also, the pump house really needs a new roof before winter. A Second Life? Indeed.
I barely have time to enjoy all of the first one.
Jefferson Weaver is a staff writer at The Whiteville News Reporter. He may be reached via telephone at 642-4104, ext. 225, or by e-mail at jeffweaver@newsreporter.biz.
 |
|
|