Bleak outlooks.

[12:03] Ronin Kurosawa: I can't believe you got kicked out of the NASCAR trailer park.  I'm at your shop and it's looking good.  I'm about to approach a few women about you writing a song for them.
[12:04] Ronin Kurosawa: well, that didnt' work out like I'd hoped.

Things aren't really looking too good. I've made very little since I began this blog (which, in fairness, was about five days ago), and I see no sign of improvement. When Ronin can't hoard in the ladies, things are not looking good.

The largest amount I've made so far was from a lovely gentleman called MeLight Korvin, who has graciously (and arguably, foolishly) enlisted my songwriting ability. I got a lovely L$650 (or, rather, L$617 because of SLExchange fees) from that, so thanks MeLight. Unfortunately, I can't seem to spend to accumulate. I'm now left with L$250 of that original fee, after buying a couple of pianos (and breaking one of them) and uploading a bunch of sound files.

About the sound files: I wanted to play about with Psyke's music script and make a nice, vinyl record. I did so, and I have to admit, I'm quite pleased with it. The record label even corresponds with my stall's logo and layout, so +1 for commercialism. I also made it so that the record rotates clockwise, as opposed to the anti-clockwise fashion that the unedited script demanded. It seems a small, trivial matter - but these things are the important things.

So I uploaded the Libertines' Campaign of Hate and put it on my vinyl. It works pretty well, and I've put it up for sale in my stall and on SLExchange. I very much doubt anybody will buy it, however.

Because I'm beginning to think that I'm never going to see that $60 again. I wanted to make this blog as a testament to underachievers all around, and prove that you can be a talentless bastard and still profit. Especially from cyberspace. But alas, I'm still broke. The rest of my money I'm making from picking Money Trees, only to spend it all in a casino (I know, I know, but it's small change and it's not going to make any difference, is it?).

I honestly think that the only way you can make money in Second Life is by stringing along stupid twats like me by making them think they can make money. I'll need to find some way of exploiting people that are nearly as silly as I am and getting all their money. Maybe I can create some sort of Songwriting circle of songwriters, and use some sort of commission system. I dunno.

With Love,
- Amin.

Going Corporate.

My initial intention for this blog would be to update it every day to let you know about how my attempt to make money is going. As it happens, I fell at the first hurdle in terms of updating it every day. I went out last night for a few drinks, and completely forgot about this blog. What a crazy, fun-loving guy I am!

So here's the update you may or may not be interested in. That trailer that I was so happy about? Gone. The bastards took it from me. Apparently, I wasn't meant to be renting it, and it was reserved for a bunch of race car drivers. Bloody race car drivers in Second Life. Why the hell do they need their own trailer?

For the first time last night, I drove a vehicle in Second Life. It was shit. It was really, really shit. I don't like making hatreds for things that don't exist, but I've managed to develop a hatred for vehicles in Second Life. I went to some sort of "mall", and there was this guy on a motorbike, looking very hardcore. And what was the stupid bastard doing? Crashing every two seconds into the doorway of an innocent looking sex toy shop. When he eventually got in, he decided that he'd probably be best to stay on his motorbike. In a confined space such as that, it was basically like a fucking pinball machine.

Five minutes later, I saw him again. He was still driving his motorbike and crashing into walls. The only difference was that this time he had a giant penis hanging out.

Moving swiftly on from the subject of motorcyclists' anatomies, I was quite depressed at the removal of my trailer. Fortunately, the owner took pity on me and he was more than happy to take my SLExchange box and keep it on his land for L$50 a week. In hindsight, I think he may have ripped me off a little bit. Because right after I handed over that box, I decided now would be a good time to try out the tip jar I had just stolen from someone else and modified the coding to look as if it was mine made.

As it happens, the tip jar wasn't my best idea for global domination of Second Life. Though the life of a busker appeals to me (and I just have too much dignity to camp for hours on end), it turns out that nobody will ever want to hand over some of their cash for no reason. They can be quite mean like that. Also, it's difficult to "rez" a tip jar in land that you don't actually own, so I spent a good twenty minutes just looking for somewhere to put the bloody jar down in the first place.

Eventually, I came across a quaint "mall": Hangflame Plaza and Mall. Incidentally, this was the same "mall" mentioned above. I got the tip jar and the badly modelled Statocaster out, when all of a sudden, I saw the only thing I've ever wanted out of life. A tiny, market stall: 15 prims, L$75 per week.

Before I could remind myself that impulsive spending was the whole reason I was on this quest in the first place, I had already been added to the Store Owners group. "Just make it your own, mate", said the wonderfully pleasant JohnnyD Posthorn. And so I did. I created the very first branch of Amin's Musical Interlude.

I couldn't fail! With a ever-so-slightly narcisstic shop title, and a slogan bound to appeal to the masses of apathetic consumers ("We express yourself... so you don't have to!"), Amin's Musical Interlude was bound to be the greatest shop this side of Second Life has ever seen.

I've already put up a piano for sale, which is quite good for the price. And I've already created a small vendor for my songwriting business (which amazingly, I still haven't given up on). And best of all, I've now got a title above my name: "Store Owner". I want to make a business card based on it. AMIN PAINE: STORE OWNER.

I've yet to make any actual... ahem... money from the stall. But it's early days yet, and I'm sure this mall is going to be super famous pretty damn soon. It's a great wee place, actually, and although it's not the size of a country, it's got a great charm about it. And I don't often have anything nice to say about Second Life. Not since it RUINED MY LIFE.

For the record, that's Hangflame Plaza and Mall. I'm not being paid for this advertising it, but seeing as I'm a Store Owner there, I suppose it's only my duty. Although, why aren't I being paid for this advertising? It might be worth talking to JohnnyD about.

Also, I sold a song on SLExchange. Hurrah! I can almost feel the £30 back in my hands already.

With Love,
- Amin.

Greetings and Salutations

My name is Amin Paine. Well, it's not actually. My real life name is something completely different, and Amin Paine is an alias I adopted purely because it sounds a wee bit funny when you say it aloud. But I'm digressing, and digression is something this blog doesn't need.

Basically, as far as you know, this is me. Standing there, next to my cheap looking trailer. With the cheap looking suit and the cheap looking glasses, with the default hair and skin you get when you sign-up to Second Life. I'm not quite the poster boy for the land of opportunity that Second Life advertises itself as. No, as far as virtual cliques go, I'm quite a loser.

I signed up to Second Life a month ago when I was bored one night. Knowing that I wasn't a geek, I knew that I wouldn't get sucked into it. I'm not one of these lifeless bastards that spend all their time trying to advertise their latest business venture when they could be out socialising and whatnot. I have a life. I go to college, I have many friends, I go drinking and clubbing and gigging, and I'm in a small, respectful band. I'm far more different than these Second Life losers.

It was last night, when I realised I had spent $60 in real life (which is roughly £30, the currency that I'm interested in) on gambling in Second Life. There I was, with my badly skinned suit and my free Sex on the Beach cocktail (which was really a transparent cylinder which I put to my mouth every so often), penniless and meandering about a scripted Roulette table, when the thought briefly occurred to me that I may just end up being one of these Second Life losers you hear about after all.

Here's what you should know about me. I'm not one of those mid-life crisis people you get on Second Life, that are looking for an escape from their sixty children and a violent husband. Neither am I one of those ten year old masterminds that can code an intricate banking and accounting system in twenty minutes, but can't seem to formulate an argument that goes beyond “YOUR GAY K”. I'm a student in his late teens. Unlike most people my age, I'm not trying to pursue an active sex life on this Second Life malarkey, because damn it, it just seems to me that clicking a low-poly cock repeatedly just doesn't have the same arousing effect that a real life hand job has. Unless, of course, Carpal Tunnel Syndrome happens to be your fetish.

But being a student means that my money surplus is a little low. So gambling away £30 (that could've been used to buy books, stationary and alcohol) on some online game is not good at all. I've resolved to attempt to change my ways. This blog will be about my attempts to earn back the £30 that I lost by manipulating the Second Life market.

Now here's the thing. I can't do very many things. As I say, I'm not an adept coder. I can't build, I can't model, I can't texture, I can't animate, I can't do anything. But there is one thing I can do: play the guitar. And just for the record, I play guitar very badly. Unfortunately, we live in a world where we have to make do with the skills we were given. In my first month on Second Life, a humble, Moldovian company wanted me to make a theme song for their latest, Second Life product, the Prism Durosport. Those wonderful Moldovian people and their sado-masochist ways approved of my tune, and they gave me a few L$ in return. If you'd like to hear that song, just click here. Make sure you only play it three times, though.

Obviously, I gambled those few L$ quickly. But it did make me think. How awesome would it be if I could actually make virtual pennies from making songs for people? Awful, dire songs that wouldn't even win an NME award. You see, when you're a talentless bastard like I am, gambling seems to be the only way to profit from this Second Life malarkey. But with all the casinos and sex shops, would there be a gap in the market for a ditzy songwriter?

So when I bet my last few L$, realising I had spent £30, I knew that it was time to stop with the casinos. I deleted all my the casino landmarks from my list, and it was time to start anew.

To start off with, I put an advert in the SLExchange for a custom song. Perhaps you'll want to click that link and buy one for yourself? Perhaps not. Whatever works for you.

In any case, I'm entering my second month on this damned, sordid hell hole. I rented the trailer that you see above me (just a stone's throw away from the DuroSport shop, incidentally), and now I'm going to try and make back the money that I lost. I don't know how I'm going to do this, but damn it, I'll think of something. And by the time you get back here tomorrow, you'll be reading about the first steps to my success!

With love,
- Amin.