It is known: Victors write the histories. Usually, this is so because all the losers are all dead. In Second Life…Jumpy just aint so LUCKY! SURE. WE were all promised a dead body! YUS! sOMEBODY Serpentine SWORE he was gonna kill his d@mn self. Yet, all we got for our drama-filled troubles was a crown (for Jumpy) and whiney tales of a too short stint in the puzzle factory (for Stroker).

Well fuck all that shit! >:(

In order disabuse the deluded, as a duty to denoobify the new, Jumpman Lane adopts the pose of SL historian. Jumpy’s wasting his own damn time writing a BOOK. It shall be titled “Douchery thy Name is Serpentine: The Rise and Fall of Kevin Alderman AKA Stroker Serpentine in Second Life.

Strange fruit is born of the silliest of virtual endeavors. A San Franciscan sap read a book and built a virtual world. An skilled laborer entered, and purloined a sex-fueled industry. Nine years ago, a Lane rezzed and became…ROYALTY.

Was this passing of the crown laced with externality, with unpredictability, with irresistibility? Was it really force majeure, this earthquake, this volcanic eruption, this train wreck that left Jumpman Lane KING of Second Life? Well…Jumpy gonna set the record straight onceand for all and forever. Here is an excerpt. With a few strokes of a pen, the lid of Hell itself is pried open. Does one dare peer inside? Hehehehe, have a peek, you most faithful of Slut Mag Faithful, my dearest of dear heart friends 🙂

Now, a preview:

Jumpman Lane
Douchery thy Name is
Serpentine
The Rise and Fall of Kevin Alderman
AKA Stroker Serpentine in Second Life

Contents
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
The Allure of Virtual Worlds, a preface
Prologue: Vanity’s Heyday (Has to be a Saturday)
a. Borked Sex-beds
b. The Lawsuit that Shook The Metaverse
Part One
The Rise, Who is Stroker Serpentine?
Chapter : Class of 2003
Chapter 2: The Legend of Briggi Bard
Chapter 3: The Litigious Mr. Serpentine
Chapter 4: The Biggest Content Thief of them All
Part Two
The Fall, Whatever Happened to Stroker Serpentine?

Chapter : Second Life after the Hype
Chapter 2: If all else Fails, Sue their Sox off
Chapter 3: The War with Jumpman Lane
Chapter 4: Whatever Happened to Eros vs. LL?
Epilogue: Every Day’s a Tuesday

The Allure of Virtual Worlds, a preface

A very wishy-washy, hippie kind of a man, Philip Rosedale, also known as
Philip Linden in pixelated circles, by accident of by design created a new world, a
new country. He called this place Second Life. Complete with customs, culture, and
a history all its own, this virtual society stands at the forefront of all virtual worlds.
When one speaks of the meta-verse, one is speaking in small or large, in part or in
whole of Rosedale’s creation, as it is the most alluring. Second Life is a digital
touchstone.
At first, what seems like a video game with killer A.I., quickly sucks the
casual user into a maelstrom of DRAMA (yes, large script, bold letters, all caps,
major DRAMA). Second lives and first lives skew, real and virtual fortunes are
won and lost, love flowers, sex steams up the consoles, confidences are betrayed,
and real life, meat-space beat-downs are plotted in suburban coffee shops. This, the
tragical tale of Kevin Alderman AND Stroker Serpentine (his idealized, mullet-ted
alter-ego) is simply one long drawn out bit of drama which most involved wish
would taper out to be forgotten. Yet, being no stranger to controversy, I, Jumpman
Lane, rake muck.
I chose as my virtual metier, yellow journalism, as drama becomes scandal in
the retelling, and who doesn’t like a nice little scandal. I chose Slut Magazine as my
vehicle, “mischievous, stimulating, erotic, illuminating” as my motto, “porn for ya
asses” as my banner, raised.
When I was not creating drama myself, I was observing it and force-feeding
it to the masses. I have made many enemies doing so. Stroker Serpentine has
become one of my most conspicuous. Unasked, he will proclaim that I am
damaging his mangled businesses, slandering his infamies, libeling him (though he
swears by my illiteracy), lying about his lies. Well, Stroker Serpentine is a douche.
Such is the form and manner of douchery: crying foul ridiculously while losing.
Regardless, everything I will relate herein is not only true, but easily proven so.
Such is my testimony.