Pure, unbridled capitalism will course through every line of code in these worlds as corporations look for new ways to squeeze money out of people. But let's be real: they just know there's money to be made, whether it's through brand sponsorships or NFTs. But I'd be amazed if Meta's virtual world let players get away with this kind of disruptive behaviour-never mind using rogue, player-created tools like that cage gun.Ĭompanies pushing 'the metaverse' try to paint it as an exciting new frontier of communication. I knew it was bad and felt appropriately guilty afterwards, but finding a crowded club whose owners foolishly forgot to disable custom objects, then sending half the dancefloor into the stratosphere, was hilarious. I vividly remember the night when someone gave me a gun that, when fired at someone, trapped them in a cage and launched them miles into the air. Second Life was rife with griefing, which for me only added to its appeal-although, admittedly, I was often the one doing the griefing. If our band ever reformed, that Joy Division synth sample would probably alert the automated copyright detection algorithm before the first loop has even finished. People will be free to express themselves, until that expression damages the image of a brand, infringes on an intellectual property, or is otherwise deemed unsavoury by the corporate overlords running the place. Unlike the anarchic, ungovernable glory days of Second Life, these new virtual worlds will be heavily sanitised and policed-and completely soulless as a result. Especially if an organisation like Facebook (sorry, Meta) is in charge of it. This is why the modern idea of 'the metaverse', in whatever form it takes, will suck. The creativity and imagination on display in Second Life was incredible, and it thrived because there were no limits, no automated copyright strikes, and no brands battling users to protect their precious IP. In every bar and club you visited, people were streaming the latest chart hits, almost certainly without permission. Pretty much everyone I knew owned a lightsaber. I used to ride around on a Harley-Davidson dressed as a Cylon from Battlestar Galactica. It was like a wild, lawless frontier, where copyright infringement was a way of life. The main hubs were monitored by the game's creators, but on the fringes of the map, anything went. Second Life was an incredibly powerful platform for free expression. Some of it was highly unsettling, and I stumbled into some truly strange places during my many late night sessions, but that was all part of its charm. Detailed replicas of Star Trek ships, medieval villages, weird sex dungeons, crowded nightclubs, accurate recreations of real-world cities, tropical islands-anything you could imagine was probably in Second Life somewhere. As you explored this impossibly vast virtual world, every parcel of land you visited was a glimpse into the depths of its owner's mind. Pretty much everything you saw was created by players-including our stage, which I built myself. I haven't played Second Life for years, but in the early 2000s it was magnificent. Related: I Upgraded From A Switch Lite To A Switch OLED And The Difference Is Staggering We sucked, and a lot of people just found us irritating, but boy did we enjoy ourselves. It's the most fun I've ever had on the internet, and no online game (if you can even call this thing a game) has made me laugh as hard or as frequently. ![]() The average Pipestons concert lasted about 15 minutes, before the sheer volume of players, explosions, and particle effects made my shitty laptop overheat and crash. People would storm the stage, fire rocket launchers at us, and even take out their own instruments and add to the sonic cacophony. It was barely listenable, but it was funny, and that was really at the heart of what made Second Life so special.
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