“SL is going to be a part of your online experience, no different than the concept of a browser,” predicts Linden’s Fleck. Presently, “all the sudden your browser pops up and allows you to see whatever it is that you searched for, or clicked on in somebody’s document or e-mail. Similarly, I believe that’s what SL is going to be: another browser that pops up and allows you to experience whatever it is you’re looking for [in 3-D] online.” He adds, “When that seamlessness happens, we’ll be well on our way to having something that’s part of everyday life.”

The immortal
It’s Thursday at 8pm EST — 5pm SLT — and I’ve seated my avatar at the Russian-roulette table beside three others: Sirius Gateaux, who’s in a tight powder-blue T-shirt and dark shades; Sonny Fisher, a traveler-looking dude in a hat, camo vest, and construction boots; and Rihpez Ogg, an ogre-like, keg-torsoed, bespectacled cigar smoker with uneven spikes jutting from his bald head.

I’m nervous. In real life. Even though the gun is in fake life.

To be honest, Lily, my avatar, has become something of a phantom limb — weirdly, I’ve already had a dream from Lily’s perspective — and I don’t want to see her blow her brains out. Plus, I keep thinking of The Deer Hunter.

Gateaux is first. He bets one Linden dollar, spins the revolver in his hand, and holds the barrel up to his temple. And then . . .

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DEATH IS NOT AN OPTION: Lily, Tapioca, and Gateaux play Russian Roulette

But then he’s not. No holes, no blood, nothing. “#$%#@$%,” he curses.

“That was freaky,” I type, sitting across from his now-empty chair.

“Haha,” he responds, already upright.

Haha. That must be how death feels to an immortal.

Then it’s Fisher’s turn. Hollow click. He shakes his head.

My turn. I bet a buck. Inhale deeply in real life. Raise the gun in my fake one. Click. Empty. Lily shakes her head wearily.

“Freaky,” I virtually squeak.

Ugg’s next. One try and — blam! — he’s done too. On the floor. Dead. Then he rises. “Ah, rebirth.”

Fisher and I pass around the gun a few more times. We raise the bets from one dollar to ten-spots. We both keep coming up empty. There’s $61 on the table.

It’s my turn again. I bet ten bucks. Inhale deeply for real. Raise the gun for fake. And —

Blam!

I am totally dead. On the floor. It’s something of a release.

Fisher wins. My meatspace heart races.

If Second Life truly takes hold, millions will spend hours doing business, meeting people, and just living inside the virtual world. As future upgrades are made, there will likely be short-term advances: voice-over technology, fewer system crashes, photo-realistic environments. But in the longer term, humans might someday be able to upload their memories, their personalities, their entire lives, into their avatars. And they might be able to program them to live and breathe and interact for all eternity inside Second Life. Humanity’s great quest for immortality might finally be solved.

As I stand up unscathed, after blowing my virtual brains out, I’m certain that this isn’t the end of the story — for either Lily or Second Life.

On the Web
Second Life: //www.secondlife.com/
Secrets of Second Life: //www.secretsofsecondlife.com/
Metaverse Messenger: //www.metaversemessenger.com/
Aimee Weber: //www.aimeeweber.com/
Wagner James Au's New World Notes: //nwn.blogs.com/

In Second Life
Zephyr Heights: //slurl.com/secondlife/Zephyr%20Heights/130/244/24/
American Apparel: //slurl.com/secondlife/Lerappa/151/64/26/
Regina Spektor's Loft: //slurl.com/secondlife/kasba/230/135/55/
Snapzilla: //sluniverse.com/pics
Second Life Me: //sl.me.com
Welcome Center: //slurl.com/secondlife/Ahern/3/3/39/
Spin Martin's Slackstreet Studios: //slurl.com/secondlife/Slackstreet/129/129/25/
Nakama: //slurl.com/secondlife/Nakama/134/128/22/
Walleye's Acropolis Bowl: //slurl.com/secondlife/Walleye/111/17/103/
Midnight City: //slurl.com/secondlife/Midnight%20City/114/141/26/
Mai Tais Beach Club: //slurl.com/secondlife/Littly%20Italy/81/34/22/
Mill Pond: //slurl.com/secondlife/Mill%20Pond/118/126/23/