As an epilogue to yesterday’s post, it’s amazing to see the folk that come out of the woods when you surface among a section of society you stepped away from. I haven’t been actively involved in games for a couple years, but as sad as yesterday’s news is, it’s wonderful to be back in touch with a bunch of people I hadn’t spoken to in years, even if most of them were calling to offer condolences for a job I hadn’t lost.

I was also reminded though of the volatility that exists within the online gaming community. It isn’t hard for me to recall posts I made to a forum of comments I made when I was a hardcore gamer. To see some of that venom directed towards Auran and in some cases me, got me thinking about things I had said, comments I had made from the outside looking in, invariably through frosted glass, only able to make out faint shadows inside but still taking it upon myself to pass judgment on what I believed lay before me.

One of the things that I love about the Web 2.0 revolution that is currently sweeping across the web, marketing, communications in general, is the exposure of real people and real lives. Hardcore gamers players are among the earliest of early adopters of technology, but with that comes handles, alter-egos and a whole lot of posturing built upon an identity that gets donned only from behind the safety of a computer screen. Parts of this remained core to my presence online until recently, I only just finally changed my email address to have my actual name in it, and I’d change the address of this blog if I had a simple way to do that (anyone with an easy tip there feel free to drop me a line). Putting yourself online and moving beyond a pseudo-identity leaves you open in a way that my online experience hasn’t been previously.

But it falls inline with the person I am when I’m offline, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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