In Second Life, my legs and arms are muscular, turgid coiled springs and my BMI is nearly 24. My virtual clothes fit like pixels on sprites (if that's accurate, dunno).
My wiki entries and bookmarks list sites I wish I had the time to visit. My Facebook and Flickr photos reveal only my best side (and not the disfiguring scar from that botched surgery when I wanted to look like Carol Channing; such a fool I was. Garbo! That's who I should look like). And now I can record myself as more cultural and intellectual on Google by listing my google books.
In the Chicago Tribune, Mary Schmich wonders, "I might not remember a word of those plays by Aristophanes - hmm, did I actually even read them?"
Are we being truthful about our virtual selves? I don't mean being anonymous or creating fake identities. I mean when you finally post under your own name, are you listing your past and present honestly? Are you truthful with Google? Because it knows if you lie.
I wonder about our virtual selves. Will it be like that Twilight Zone where the guy calls home and his duplicate answers the phone? When virtual society finally crosses over into The Matrix-like complexity, you might find that your virtual self, the one created from your blog, Facebook, wiki and Google book identities is already there, with her own friends and credit score and life. And she might not be too happy if you try to interfere.
