It's a safe generalization that when you describe someone's personality, you attach as much consistency to their character as to their physical appearance (plastic surgery aside). Sayings like "A leopard never changes its spots" get bandied about, but when you're presented with the possibility of someone changing their personality like they change their clothes, that may very well result in brainjam.

Popularly, we attribute "not having a consistent personality" to mental illness, such as schizophrenia or Tourette's. We attribute "lack of a personality" to conditions like Asperger Syndrome. Words like "sociopath" automatically get sorted into the "bad/negative" bin. Why can't someone often do good things without a conscience or remorse? What's the opposite of remorse, for that matter?

I don't think this kind of stuff is thought about or discussed enough, so I've been doing some thinking of my own.

In Malcolm Gladwell's The Tipping Point (an excellent read), the wild-haired author makes a case for "the power of context", referring in one part to how people behave differently depending on the circumstances, such as if they're being watched. He semi-concludes:

Character, then, isn't what we think it is or, rather, what we want it to be. It isn't a stable, easily identifiable set of closely related traits, and it only seems that way because of a glitch in the way our brains are organized. Character is more like a bundle of habits and tendencies and interests, loosely bound together and dependent, at certain times, on circumstance and context. The reason that most of us seem to have a consistent character is that most of us are really good at controlling our environment.

This makes a lot of sense to me. What's also sensible is that we've been given new tools to control our environments — I of course, as I often do, refer to Second Life. And not only can you shape the virtual world around you, you can get an alt(ernative) account where you can live out a secret life, experiment with things you might be afraid to do more openly, and essentially, take a magnifying glass to some of your habits/tendencies/interests and explore them deeper.

Now, be earnest: when I wrote "experiment with things…" were you thinking of scandalous activities? Most people would. There's nothing inherently shameful in that; I'm not making a value judgment, but the way our modern societies are structured (and often, lack structure) and place priorities on the wrong things is discouraging to greater neurodiversity. Group activities and thinthink can often work against us.

I've got a good example: years ago, I was passing by a funeral in Thailand. It wasn't for a relative, but it was clear from the noise emanating from the burial grounds, there was a type of strange competition happening. And what competition could that possibly be? It sounded like who could wail loudest, and thus, show the most grief, sorrow, and sadness. Do I think the amount of noise someone makes is directly related to how sad they actually are about a loved one's passing? No I don't, especially if that person would prefer to grieve quietly but they feel pressured amongst their kinfolk to go "WAIHHHHHH!". That's unnatural and wrong. If someone must cry, then do so, show your emotions, but don't turn the volume up to Spinal Tap 11 just because Aunt Wing-Chai next to you is doing it out of her sincere heart — each person grieves differently, after all, and I'm not closed to the possibility of someone feeling more relieved by crying louder amongst family. As long as it's not forced.

I didn't think much of this incident when I was young, but recalled it as I aged, and most vividly, when my Dad died. Guess what? Yup, there was a crying contest, and some of the wahhhhing was attrociously fake, as if it had been imported from the Peking Opera's 4th-rate castoffs instead of coming from the spirit. (However you choose to define that.) I cried. I didn't cry that much, which is why some of my distant (because I choose to put them there) relatives looked at me, trying to guilt me into wahhhhing more. But I didn't, and I'm happy I didn't. I don't cry more just because other people are looking at me, and I don't care if they're related. That's not to say I'm not affected by crowds — I certainly danced much more enthusiastically during my rave heydays when I knew all my friends were watching! — but the big difference is that made me feel better, but fake-crying more would not if I felt forced.

Back to what I was saying earlier: certain words don't go well together when describing someone, like "friendly" + "sociopath" and even milder pairs like "ambitious" + "slacker". But just like the false oxymoron of "gentle giant" — and while I'll need to do more sociological research on this — my point is: I believe some truely exceptional people are aligned with that vector of combining personality opposites in a refreshed blend. They may sometimes be accused of having multiple personalities (whether in a serious or joking sense), but since many of humankind's great scientists and artists fused diversity into cohesive accomplishments, their own character(s) of "walking contradictions" are likely to reflect that; they just haven't been examined closely enough.

I like good stories. There'll be a time when stories of people dealing with baggage and issues through alt accounts in Second Life are more prominent. Not yet, but it'll come. Right now, alts are often used as cheap joke fodder, while more substantial and therapeutic usages are ignored and/or outright dismissed. I want to know about Residents who magnified their little slivers of personality into great things, to emerge a healthier, whole person.