Category: virtualreality

The problem with Second Life is that there’s just too much stuff to do, and not enough time to do it. That’s why my inventory silts up with projects that I start, but put on the back-burner so that I can work on something else. Someone reminded me today that I’d promised a new version of the magic carpet — over a month ago. It’s in my inventory, but needs a few adjustments before it’s ready for general use.

Other things I started and haven’t finished (yet):

• A 2-seat version of the hoverbike
• A high-prim spaceship that’s inspired by Space 1999
• A sailplane
• A transformer (Flyte Xevious beat me to this one. Check out his vehicle in the Flight Shop.)
• A helicopter-style vehicle that’s as big as a whale, code-named “Beluga” (I probably wont’ finish that one)
• A new hot air balloon
• A new airship
• An auto-pilot controlled taxi network
• And, of course, PenguinWorld™ — the antarctic-themed ocean sim where the herring are plentiful and everyone must wear a penguin avatar.

I might finish at least one of them before the year is up.

(Edit: the large, 6-seat magic carpet is now done. You can find it on Level 2 of Abbotts Aerodrome.)

In the last week at Abbotts Aerodrome, things have been quieter than normal. I’m not sure if that’s because of lingering 1.5 doubts or if people were focused on Burning Life (until it closed). I took advantage of the lull to rip down large chunks of the Aerodrome and replace it with some classic 40s/50s style sci-fi buildings.

Well maybe it turned out more like 50s roadside diner, but I like it anyway. Portholes, rivets, and cheesy deco touches finish off a copper-coloured, rounded building — no more sharp corners to stub your toes on.

I still have more work to do. The Aerodrome Club needs touch-ups in the lobby, the Flight Shop needs walkways and doors, and the elevator needs work. Until it’s done, the ‘drome is open as always.

Renovations have begun on the Aerodrome’s level 4. The stodgy “Aerodrome Club” is being temporarily transformed into a hip dance club for DJ Lola Bombay’s big debut. More on that event later in the week. Inside, the windows are blacked out and spinning lights hung around the DJ setup, and we’ve added a new lobby.

Also at the Aerodrome, various visitors have been startled to see a gigantic 737 airliner barelling down the runway towards them. Apotheus Silverman has implemented what I suspect is the first stage of a grand plan for A.I. planes that fly around the world.

For now, the planes rez at the west end of the runway, take off, and fly a short distance into the neighbouring sim. Refreshments will not be served on this flight.

Yesterday I began to think about space. Although I’d ventured to relatively high altitudes, I’d never been to space. In a vehicle, the highest you can go is the mysterious vehicle barrier at 4,096 meters, where all vehicles mysteriously vanish. I’d flown with a flight-assist device to about 10,000 meters once, but rumours say that there’s something strange far, far above the hills of Second Life. Some say there’s a region where physics are not the same, and where distortions in space-time lead to insanity… and death.

I had to find out if these rumours were true. I strapped on my “skydiving badge” for lift and wore some clothing appropriate to a trip into space — my Starfleet uniform. My destination: one million meters above the ground.

All the way to 750,000 meters over Abbotts Aerodrome, the ascent was fairly predictable. As the ground fell farther away over this flat land, a strange band of darkness developed between the edge of the ground and where the sky began. Overhead the sun was bright, and the sky a dark blue.

Then, suddenly, there was a change. At about 768,000 meters, the sky and ground vanished, thrusting me into utter darkness. My avatar began to shake violently and became somewhat distorted.

I put on my flight jacket, partly to keep out the cold, but also for comfort. Up here, I was utterly alone and in the dark. After a while, the shaking stopped, and everything took on an eerie silence as I watched the digits on my altimeter rush towards one million.

I had made it to my target. I was one million meters above Abbotts Aerodrome, although not quite in the same shape as when I left it.

My return to the ground was less dignified. I flew into Cordova and began to fall. Impatient to reach the ground, I re-logged to find my avatar lying on a Cordova hillside in a puddle of its own blood. No matter. I have seen space, the final frontier.