What I needed was an orgasm. To come and come and come! Not Fizzy Oceans, the EM. Because Fizzy Oceans can’t come. Not fucking Panzer X. Not in a million years. Not ever! It was Amy Birkenstock that needed an orgasm—or two, or three, or four! Then and there! And by God I was going to have it!
At that moment I understood the reality of VL sex. And I never again saw Panzer X. romantically. Nor have I cultivated other romantic relationships in VL. Believe me, it’s best that way. You can take my word for it. In VL, we can certainly recreate, but we cannot procreate. That’s just how it is!
I suppose sex in VL is somewhat like reading a very steamy novel and experiencing heart-pounding lust generated on the printed page. Having had a hand in republishing some very torrid stories—The Decameron by Giovanni Boccaccio (in the original Italian), Lady Chatterley’s Lover by D. H. Lawrence, Tropic of Cancer by Henry Miller, and Lolita by Vladimir Nabocov—I do have a feeling for the vicarious effect that certain writers can convey. Yet sex in VL—by all accounts virtual sex—was still different than reading a lusty scene. Perhaps it could be compared to seeing a film portrayal of Constance Chatterley and her gamekeeper, as opposed to simply reading about their illicit exploits at his rustic cottage in the woods. Again, the senses: a glance if not the ecstasy of a touch; the sound of a lover’s whisper if not the force of physical love; the lingering memory of a scent, a taste, if not the ponderous weight of our physical burden on earth!
Since our encounter at Heaven In the Clouds, Panzer and I have seen one another only in passing. Because we were never able to speak to one another very effectively in the first place, silence is not unnatural, yet we dare not look one another in the eye, because we both understand that one glance can unlock the kind of desire that nothing here in VL can satisfy, and we are smart enough not to traverse such treacherous territory again.
Yet I feel exquisite in the knowledge that such passion is possible even between two digital representations, because it guarantees, no matter what happens to our race in physical terms, that at least a very vivid idea of sexuality will persist in all its glory. My experience with Panzer—mysterious and incomplete as it necessarily had to be—confirms something I probably knew all along: that sexual desire happens in the brain, not in the loins; and once such feelings are imprinted upon a nervous system, or even within an electronic network, a certain kind of exponential energy is generated which nothing can extinguish. Perhaps we can kill ourselves with negligence and stupidity, and maybe we can render our beloved and fragile planet inhospitable, but apparently we can’t extinguish the current of love, no matter how hard we try. What a relief!
Rome is known as the Eternal City, so a group of VL builders is working day and night to recreate it in Virtual Life as well. Dutch builders work to raise a virtual Amsterdam, as others create a virtual Barcelona, a virtual Vienna, and a virtual Paris. In Israel, plans are underway to construct a New Jerusalem. In Athens, an energetic congress of Greek builders is working to preserve the integrity of the Parthenon, as well as that of ancient Thira (which is now called Santorini and thought by some to be the remains of the Lost City of Atlantis), not to mention those who have attempted to recapture the allure of Mykonos Island in the sixties and seventies, because even in VL a stunning beach for gay guys will surely be needed. In America, VL builders have recreated New York’s Greenwich Village, complimented by a virtual Bob Dylan and virtual Joan Baez singing folk songs in smoky basement bars. Others have recreated Disneyland. Turning to South America, the beach in Rio is a popular REP. In Japan, builders have fashioned extravagant resorts for the enjoyment of all. While Down Under, VL advocates are offered virtual adventures in the Outback. In India we can visit an ashram or bathe in the Ganges River. So, when all is said and done, there is just no telling how much of PL will be rebuilt in Virtual Life, but even if it’s not complete, surely it will be quite impressive. And of course there are creations that have never existed in PL and exist only within Virtual Life. In VL, imagination reigns supreme, and cyber real estate is ridiculously cheap.
All this construction that is taking place in Virtual Life marks a building boom the likes of which the world has never known. Consider that cities like Rome and Tokyo and Calcutta evolved over many centuries. The Virtual Life builders apparently mean to duplicate such places in what might only be termed the blink of an eye—or whatever precious time we might have left before whatever is going to happen actually happens. Which brings to mind an important question: How much of PL is actually worth preserving? Might it not be construed as a public service to disregard altogether certain institutions? To preserve only that which is whole and workable, and simply trash the rest of it before it once again grabs humanity by the balls and squeezes till we scream?
My friend Crystal Marbella once asked me if I was more comfortable in Physical Life or in Virtual Life. I had to think about it for a while, but in the end I had to admit that I felt more comfortable in Virtual Life. “It probably shouldn’t be that way,” I told her. “After all, I was born into Physical Life, so that’s where I ought to feel grounded. But I don’t feel grounded there. So thank God I found Virtual Life. And thank God I found you, Crystal.”
“I feel the same way, Fizzy. Here we have something worthwhile to do. These days I don’t work to live, I live to work. There’s something to be said for having a strong sense of purpose. And good friends, too! Not just people you go out drinking with, or go to a movie, or a party. What I mean is knowing and working with others who value your particular kind of creativity and your special gifts as much as they value their own, and who also share your passion and your resolve to create a world that is not only more fair and more just, but also more sustainable. And whether we succeed or fail is actually unimportant. What’s important is that we’ve come together at this place, in this time, and that we are making the effort to create something better than we’ve known in the past.”
“Let PL go to hell in a hand basket,” I sang.
“And we’ll watch it fall from right here in Virtual Life!” she said.
“Except a lot of people are probably going to get hurt,” I said.
“Yeah, that’s the real crappy part about all this,” said Crystal.
Even though I make no effort to see Panzer anymore, I still like to visit Imperial Rome. Thanks to Virtual Life, it’s possible for me to experience the Eternal City as it must have been in its glory days, gleaming and regal, its citizens so full of themselves that they can’t possibly imagine a time when their Rome will not be pre-eminent in the world, even as demise looms just beyond the Palatine Hill.
Is Rome still the embodiment of the Eternal City? Certainly yes! Does Imperial Rome’s fate stand as an eternal example of what those who consider themselves invincible might expect? Positively yes! Speaking at the VBV, Dr. Adler alluded to no less than thirty previous world civilizations. The Hopi Indians are now preparing to leave the Fourth World behind and journey through a hole in the earth in search of the Fifth World, whatever that might mean. Standing here in a REP of Imperial Rome, a recreation though it may be, a virtual world, such things seem to make a bit more sense to me. I feel as eternal as the stones that form these ancient archways, these walls, terraces, porticos, colonnades and aqueducts. Of course I know nothing lasts forever, least of all any single civilization. The PL crowd acts like nothing’s wrong; they fiddle as their Rome burns. And I implore them; ask the Romans what an incredibly fickle mistress glory can be, and just how transitory the spoils of war may prove. Ask what songs they sang as the flames took all they had and more…
I invite Kiz to meet me at the Coliseum, and when she arrives I show her the place that Panzer and I tried our best to get it on, and I tell her about how futile Physical Life feels to me, and that I’m really glad that I was the one to greet her the day she first logged on to Virtual Life.
“It’s no use feeling so desperate,” Kiz tries to console me.
“I don’t know, Kiz. It’s just—”
�
�You just have to keep busy,” she advises. “That’s what I do. That’s how I cope. Not with silly, insignificant things. You must work at something meaningful. Whatever strikes you as being…useful. Whatever you think is important!”
“And that’s it?” I ask.
“Yeah, more or less,” says Kiz.
As the febrile sun sets on Imperial Rome (Is this fulsome garnet in the western sky a flaming chariot headed for a splendiferous crash in the Sea of Antiquity, or is it actually a Phoenix Rising?), we stand together in the shadow of the virtual Coliseum. And a very long shadow it casts! (I feel I must here draw attention to a fundamental distinction: I speak now from Virtual Life, which is a computer simulation. My emulation is standing in the Virtual Life recreation of modern-day Rome, which includes, as does PL Rome, the ruins of the Imperial City. Therefore, my emulation is standing before the recreation of a ruin. Curiously, I, Amy Birkenstock, might visit the PL Eternal City, and I might even experience this very scene with my PL senses. Do I consider the distinction to be important? No, I do not. I suppose that someday somebody in VL might reconstruct the entire Imperial City, with its Forum, its gods and goddesses, its Holy conquests, and its gladiatorial games. Or maybe that is not really necessary, as maybe it’s already been done in PL.)
Eating gelato in front of the recreation of a ruin that was once an enormous bathhouse, a place where citizens went after a day’s work not only to bathe, but also to relax and socialize and discuss the important events and issues of their lives, Kiz paints a vivid verbal picture for me of how people with different perceptual biases might indeed see the same events and imagery, yet interpret them in vastly different terms.
“Each of us looks at his environment and sees mainly what he sees. Seldom does he question whether anybody else, who might be looking at the same images, perceives them as he does, or whether one might react to those stimuli as he reacts to them. Invariably, though, there is variation—sometimes not so significant, but sometimes quite profound. It all depends on one’s particular frame of reference. Does one tend to see the world in literal terms, or is his perception grounded in mostly symbolic terms? Does he define what he sees in terms of sensory information (I can see, hear, touch, taste, or smell this, therefore it must be real), or are his definitions formed in metaphors (I can see, hear, touch, taste or smell this; therefore it must refer to a feeling or an impression)? We each see the world from both contexts, but each individual also sees it predominantly one way or the other. This is an important distinction, but it is one that few people recognize. If we were able to acknowledge and accept such divergent forms of perception, then enhanced empathy would be the result.
“In PL, most people perceive and deal with the world in very literal terms. That is why consumerism—the feverish pursuit of money and the insane race to acquire more and more material possessions—is more or less dominant there. It’s also why there are so many conflicts, so much bloodshed, so much hunger and inequality. PL is basically a Darwinian construction, and there is a fair amount of the NL ‘eat-or-be-eaten’ mentality remaining.
“Some of that literal mentality is carried over into VL, too. That’s why we find REPs that are little more than digital reconstructions of PL commerce. In VL, however, there is also a different element, one that is less literal, one grounded in metaphor. Consider the creation of a species such as the Quinngen. VL quite naturally allows the incorporation of one’s fantasy, and corroboration by the five senses is not necessarily required. In fact, sensual perception is sometimes severely limited by the medium, so we must learn to depend on more intuitive and more symbolic frames of reference. Finally, a world not defined and governed by our sensual limitations and our more primitive social constructions!”
“Kiz, I had no idea!”
“Come on, Fizzy. You may never have thought to verbalize it as I just have, but this is something you know innately. You tell me that you have trouble dealing with PL issues and dynamics, but you take to Virtual Life like a fish to water.”
Bottom line: We seem to be caught in a vicious circle. In PL we find it increasingly difficult to connect with Natural Life; in Virtual Life we recreate portions of Physical Life with a few innovations derived from vision and fantasy, even as we find it all but impossible there to connect with any aspect of Natural Life. Meanwhile, Natural Life is rebelling precipitously against Physical Life, even as we in VL try feverishly to forge a lasting testament, a time capsule, of all that we are as a culture! If Natural Life ultimately renders humans expendable, what is to be our legacy? Is it an abandoned oil refinery or a munitions factory? Is it a dead forest? A festering swamp filled with toxins? Or might it not be the sum of all the hopes and dreams and visions and noble creativity that we can pour into VL in the presumably short time we have remaining?
And just who are these emulations walking so confidently through varied and diverse simulated environments? Certainly, they are not physical beings. Nor are they manifestations of mental life. Are they perhaps our spiritual bodies, now visible as digital representations? Are they the summation of every human who has ever walked the face of the earth? Are they representations of all we have ever been? Or of all that we presently are? Or all that we might become?
Virtual Life: Heaven In The Clouds? Or is it Phoenix Rising?
I can’t wait to find out!
PART II:
NEW PARADIGMS OF IDENTITY
CHAPTER 6
Dead Man Talking
TRANSFERRING TO LIT-A-RAMA, my EM materializes at Grove Press Square, a village green surrounded by numerous, tastefully appointed shops. Among them is Foresight Publishing, the VL version of a PL book publisher in London. (And there are other PL publishers renting shops in VL: MacMillan & Co. and Bantam/Dell are two noteworthy names on the REP’s tenant roster). Lit-A-Rama’s hostess, Jeannine Greene, operates the Foresight shop. She also coordinates many of the events staged at various Lit-A-Rama venues, as well as renting out shops to tenants with literary interests and helping those visiting the REP feel welcome and comfortable.
Also located on Grove Press Square is a shop called Genealogy, which is becoming an ever more important entity here in Virtual Life (for obvious reasons). Day and night (relative temporal designations here in VL as it is possible to regulate sunlight and darkness with a keystroke), any number of researchers can be found searching the archives for information relating to family histories. At Genealogy, the entire genealogical library maintained by the Mormon Church and located at Salt Lake City is available online.
A short stroll off any of the streets leading from the Grove Press Square Quadrangle will reveal interesting shops operated by proprietors with various interests. On George Orwell Alley, one finds Lilly Pond Books, as well as an exhibit highlighting the work of author Robert Anton Wilson. On Shakespeare Street, Pomegranate Princess offers a unique literary perspective, and on Barbara Cartland Close, one might visit the shop of Yoko Oh No! On Louis L’amour Lane we find Worlds 2 Go, a Swedish art publisher, and Poet’s Row.
Open Books is located a short walk from Grove Press Square on a small street called Jeff Bezos Alley, but instead of going directly there, I cross the green and head for the Writers’ Pen Café. This morning I’m meeting Crystal for cappuccino and conversation. We often meet at Writers’ Pen to discuss publishing strategy, or to relax together in an environment that is less formal than the shop itself. Today we shall be reviewing a list of classic titles that we are considering for online publication. It’s not that we are overly presumptuous in selecting which classic books we publish (after all, these literary efforts have all stood the test of time), but since we have only a limited amount of time to devote to the Open Books Project, and since we also realize that we can never publish every piece of classic literature we might want to offer for posterity, it is of course necessary that we make selections that we feel not only portray the literary tradition in its best light, but also those that will appeal to readers both present and future.
A
lso on our agenda for this morning’s meeting is the planning of a party. Even though the Open Books Project is already well underway, and even though the Virtual Life shop has been open to visitors for more than a year, we have never really had a Grand Opening celebration, and Crystal and I have determined that such a soiree is long overdue.
Entering Writers’ Pen, I see that Crystal has not yet arrived, so I draw espresso from the machine located on a sideboard, and then froth the milk to make my drink complete. At the moment, I am alone in the café, but that’s of little concern. I take a seat and look out the window at an unrestricted view of a tranquil sea. I really like this view, as it seems to lend itself to the musings of those involved in the creative process. Hey! That’s me, isn’t it? Though in real life I would never in a million years have envisioned myself a publisher of classic literature, or a contributor to the artistic community at large. After all, in real life my job is boring: I work at a medical billing office. And my education is limited (remember that I dropped out of high school midway through my final semester). So I have Virtual Life, but more specifically Crystal, to thank for my current interest and involvement in the creative arts, which I must admit has given me a renewed idealism that literally defies Physical Life’s limitations, large or small.
As I watch my friend and partner walk through the doorway at Writers’ Pen, I admire the obvious confidence she displays through her emulation’s upright yet relaxed posture, in her discerning sense of fashion, and her careful yet still understated grooming. Sometimes I tend to forget that in PL she is European. What must it really be like to live in Copenhagen?
The Virtual Life of Fizzy Oceans Page 7
