Warning: This is a text of the category “Poor English”. Do not read it if you are linguistically sensitive. Please take this warning serious. It is not a joke!
Sometime between midnight and midnight on a deserted and foggy parcel a dark and quite retangular avatar ran into me and told me his story – I couldn’t prevent him from doing it. Hectare! I wish I could present this early avatar to the research public! But before I could properly recognize his name in the fog, he had disappeared again. Now, of course mocking research colleagues will claim that I would have sunk in a small nap and therefore only would have dreamt everything! Of course this is rubbish! Because I found the village the early avatar spoke about only a few hundred meters further. What he experienced there I tell you – as far as I remember it – in the service of science and despite all satirists.
Memories of an early avatar
I will never forget April 27th, 2007, the day in which we arrived in kangaroo land. Barrel organs droned, children laughed, school bells shrilled, voices prattled in a mess, barrel organs droned, children laughed, school bells shrilled, voices prattled in a mess, barrel organs droned, children laughed, school bells shrilled, voic … A poster with a ferris wheel was extoling a grand opening: „Prize Park, Adventureland – Coming soon”. And my brother sighed: “If we only could close the eyes, then we would see them all: the children, the organ-grinders, the teachers, the hustle and bustle visitors, the organ-grinders, the teachers, the hustle …” And that he wants to stay here in the land of the capital soundloops. “Mom, daddy, please?”
Three weeks ago we had met us on the orientation island. And within the first minutes of our avatar lifes we decided to follow a spontaneous mood and that was to be a family. „That would be funny”, claimed the future mummy. And what mummy said was done from this time on. And mummy said: A family needs a home! But, at this time, places of residence for families were still rare in Second Life.
But we were lucky: in kangaroo land at a cosy narrow street with two pedestrian stripes, behind the ever-blooming cherry tree of our future neighbors there it was: Our little dream house, witts end 5, with terrace and integrated persian carpets. Well the carpets were only for standing on, as we children moaned. They were not scheduled for sitting, lying or rolling on them. But the rent was payable.
After we had been bubbling smilies in our house for a week, we fetched from the furniture store in the village a black four-poster bed, a pink four-poster bed, a striped hammock, a brown hammock with sky above, two alarm clocks, bedside tables, once again two double beds. Said briefly: We bought the complete store assortment.
The neighbors brought us ravioli cans and muffins. However, the hit was a computer with exchangeable sreen. „Selfmade” as the cherry tree neighbor proudly explained. This was big! We displayed a sunset on the computer, a family photo, or a photo of the computer with a photo of the computer.
And: We found out the village: In the swimming pool we crashed in ancient splash animation of 2004, we bought Stan Avatar, Kenny Avatar, Chartman Avatar and Kyle Avatar for us. And from this time on we were Stan, Kenny, Chartman and Kyle. Our she-neighbor bought breats for herself! Wow! This was a great day for us boys!
The houses at the end of pedestrian highway were forbidden for us children. They were called “mature” and they say strange things would happen in them. The most disreputable of the disreputable families lived at the end of this street. Hundreds of alarm systems protected her villa. Two watchdogs orbited the house. A doberman pinscher could be hugged by everybody with pleasure, whimpered until you entered the garden, so that he could lick you fawningly. And why? You shouldn’t notice that the lessor approached from behind to kick you out of the house into the universe while shouting: „Get of my fucking house”.
In short: We were happy. That’s what we thought. Until two weeks after the Smiths fell into the village and moved into the most splendid villa with the maddest wallpapers of the world. The Smiths were really funny people with really funny ideas. They claimed to be avatars from avatars. Before a logout every villager said that he wants to look for cigarettes, milk or better weather, just to be polite, but the Smiths said nothing. They disappeared in a second. And, when you saw them again next time, they claimed: “We have been kidnapped by avatars of higher order.”
At the comfortable evenings in front of out sunset computer they talked big of this other avatar place. There – so they said – the avatars would sit in front of computers which work. Worked? How? What? We asked with our always big eyes. They laughed mockingly. And explained the biggest rubbish. There, they said, avatars would not be bored every evening by starring always at the same sunset. Hey, hey, we can also display something different”, my brother yelled insulted. The Smiths put off. The avatars there would have completely different computers. Computers with which you really could do something. With these computers these avatars would log in to a world, very similiar to ours, they would create their own avatars. And these avatars they would let rent cosy cottages and hold funny conversations exact like ours. And now at this moment – the Smiths have no doubt about it – they probably were doubling up with laughter that their avatars would sit exactly like us in front of a computer displaying always the same sunset. They said. Although my brother had already uploaded a just made snapshot of the Smiths on the computer.
Even if none of us believed these abstruse stories, they made our sometimes a little long evenings more tolerable. And because of that the Smiths were despite their strangeness quite popular in the village. But one day they didn’t come back. And they didn’t come back the next day either. And not on the day on this, not the week on this. And we sat dumbly in the evening before our sunsets, Stan had got himself a short cord animation, but the right cosy atmosphere did not want to arise any more. Not at all. We got imperceptible more and more sad.
The sadness did not seeped deeply only in us, but in the whole area. Outside the village vast parcels were left. More and more avatars fled the region, you never saw them again. Many neighbors moved without leaving new addresses. From no one we heard anything. In the end we and the most disreputable of the disreputable families in their alarm system villa were the only left. And then I and and the most disreputable of the disreputable families. And a few days later i moved into the now empty disreputable alarm system villa.
Meanwhile most of the houses are empty the whole year. And at my many lonely evenings sometimes I’m wondering whether the Smiths had said the truth perhaps. Perhaps we are really only avatars from avatars of higher order. Hey, I then yell to the ceiling, hey, you avatars of higher order, can you here me? What do you do now? Isn’t it dead boring without us? Do you stare at sunsets on computers? If I were you, you avatars of higher order, I would immediately create my own avatar and I would let him rent a house and I would buy him a computer with a sunset display and then i would watch my avatar starring at the sunset on his computer. Well.” While talking like this I’m often sitting in front of my computer starring at the sunset display and I’m really sorry about the avatars of higher order and I’m waiting that the alarm system will ring sometime.