I had (half of) a blog entry before this but I deleted it because I thot it was trash.

(And yet, I haven't blogged in so long.)

And yes, this Entry Title is inspired by Hybrid. We're out of the starting gates again: in "Finished Symphony", one of the greatest grandstanding pieces of electroniclassical music up to this point in the spacetime continuum, there are splintered, stuttery breakbeats which are undeniably mechanical—and at times, repetitive. They are the bedrock for the expansive endowment of swelling strings atop, which reminds me of the dichotomy in corporate America. You come to work for a company, you do big business, but you still strive to be personal (in a Jerry Maguire way, even). And what's more, as your numbers grow, it never ever gets any less important to be human.

At least, that's the way I see it. String cues are often associated with strong emotions in film music. And it's easy to take a chunky rhythm and loop it. You put the two together, and it is so incredibly volatile and rare. Very few can do it well, even fewer will dare to do their dreams—and maybe that is why there is only one "Finished Symphony". Sure, you can use the same ingredients in other tracks, mix the stew around in different ways, but it's like buying a frozen facsimile of the chef's original cuisine, prepared live before your senses.

This is what I face today. I work for Linden Lab, makers of Second Life, and I honestly can't think of a better way to "eat my own dog food" than indulge in the actual product. I am not a technical writer, nor a journalist: but I understand the so-called "end-usage" of this online world intimately. Since starting this blog, which I did to share my experiences, my belief in this has been built on and resolified, firmer and yet more flexible through the age. And yes, there's been stresses, periods of doubt, which only validate what I believe to be true.

In the beginning, one of the things that impressed me the most about Second Life was how personable the employees—using the inworld surname "Linden"—are. It might be comparatively rare to catch a Linden sighting, but surer than Sasquatch and more opportunistic than Ogopogo, this only strengthened my technofaith. In the old Ahern-Morris Welcome Area, staying around long enough would guarantee you at least a glimpse. Being bold enough got you a conversation, some hearty jokes, and just a gosh-darned sense of, "I feel good being here!"

And now, this has changed. The gridverse has grown so large, and in a similar capacity, noone expects Tim Berners-Lee to visit every page on the World Wide Web. But the question is: "If he read your blog, would you care to know?"

I would.


Since I have gone from TORLEY TORGESON —> TORLEY LINDEN, I have met many Resis (short for "Resident who lives in Second Life") who didn't know my previous incarnation. Being the first Linden they actually meet, I often get asked:

  • What do you do?/What's your position?/What are your job responsibilities?/What do you do for LL?
  • Can you help me with problem X/Y/Z?
  • Can you send me your Linden bear? (A noteworthy collectible!)

and in turn, I frequently recommend reading of my blog. Because this is where it started, and where it's all leading to—I don't know—but as so long as there's gas in the tank, I should keep driving.

The third question is easy, an absolute YES. And it's "TORLEY LINDEN bare", just Instant Message me—or better yet, since my IMs get so cluttered, email me (torley@lindenlab.com) with your SL name for one.

As for the second, I'll happily share what I do know to help. If I can't help you personally, I'll guide you to someone who can. If I don't know, I'll say so, and if I do know—prepare for a wordstorm!

I realize the first question's variants haven't been answered satisfactorily yet here; at least, I certainly don't feel this way. I'm hoping as I continue to grow into this role, I'll be able to share more insights about not just what goes on during my job, but the results that come out of it. I know there's curiosity, and I want to help satisfy this.

In closing, Wilder Linden, one of my many very kewl coworkers, turned me onto Robert Scoble's blog. I really didn't comprehend it at first, but casual reading over the stretch of weeks keyed me into what's going on. A favorite post of mine is the recent "This is not a numbers business", which is easy to argue with, but like I've said a lot before: almost every point has a counterpoint. If you're truely confident about what you're saying, you can make it work for you. ("Throw enough words and it'll stick!")

The central line from Scoble's entry that really resonated with me was:


This is a people business. Even when it scales all the way up to a billion dollar business.


Which translates to my feelings: even if Second Life has 1 million Residents, I'd better be inworld as much as possible, saying hello, and getting to know what people want from us. Their hopes, their dreams, their fears, their fantasies. To be receptive and channel what's on the minds and in the hearts of the people to the rest of the company. For when that caring stops, all is lost. Scoble goes on to write:


This is not a numbers business. It's a people business. Are you available to share your business with people or are you hiding behind customer support walls, spreadsheets, or IT solutions to interacting with your customers?


I can't wrap my head around buzzwords. I don't get the technical complexities of big business nor the ingenious intricacy that goes into keeping the infrastructure of SL thriving. I admire it; it's just not me.

But, for the first time in my life, thanx to my Second Life, I can say I understand people.