We Met in Virtual Reality

We Met in Virtual Reality

The trailing shadow behind "Virtual Reality" feels longer and more monstrous than at any other point in my life. It's being treated as a given, especially by Web3 gremlins, and the more established philosophical evils like Facebook-Meta, and Apple. We hope it's the wishful thinking of plateauing capital, desperate for more growth markets, tripping down the hallway as terms like "revenue model" lurch towards them. But the bet they're making isn't just on tech improving, it's also that our real world is about to get so much worse, that the average person will choose to move their life almost entirely online.

We Met in Virtual Reality is unabashedly part of this larger digital migration narrative, of which it has an extremely positive view. Lonely, isolated (often disabled) people are able to build a community, find love, and connect. I think it's fair to call it a good thing, if you consider the human experience to be good.

When I had to quit drinking in 2014, my real world relationships, mostly built on alcohol, had to wind down. I found myself using Twitter not just to post jokes, but to make friends. My affection for digital communities is deep, despite so many of them being toxic (4chan, kiwifarms, letterboxd guys who reply but don't follow). But hitting the eject button on "real life" isn't as simple as putting on a headset and whispering "talk me off" into the ear of a big-tittied Star Fox.

Life has to get pretty bad for people to cross that threshold. I hope it doesn't, and I especially hope these online 3D social-spaces remain the refuge of outcasts and weirdos. But it already feels like a worse future is clawing its way backwards, trying to find that bleeding edge in tech where it can worm its way inside, and take it from them to sell to everyone else.