Online identity. The connotations associated with this idea can range from just a simple online handle that one uses to participate in online forums and social communities while providing themselves a sense of security to people getting so attached to their online avatars that they are emotionally scared when something bad happens to said avatar.
I still remember my first time experiencing something like that. I had tried playing the massive multi player online role playing game (MMORPG) City of Heroes, because the whole idea intrigued me. I watched my former bass player running around in the world, and when suddenly most of the characters stopped moving (with word bubbles containing the text "Adult Swim" above their heads), I knew I had to try it. However, I never really felt any connection to the characters I played; they were just sets of polygons moving through a world of polygons. Perhaps that's why I stopped playing.
Then I tried World of Warcraft (WoW). In the beginning, it had the same effect as City of Heroes; I never played for very long, though I came back to the game now and again. It was not until I met some people on my ship, in my work center, that played the game. I finally picked a character to commit to, and played through the content to reach max level. It was at this point, I feel, that I began to feel some kind of kinship with my level 80 Draenei Shaman, Kudri. There is an achievement system in the game, and one of the tougher ones at the time was "World Explorer". Since the shaman's abilities during that time involved things like the ability to remove poison, walk on water, and breath under water, it felt like a natural explorer class. Thus I began the time intensive task of uncovering every corner of every zone in the virtual world of WoW. Kudri stopped being just a set of polygons and began to feel like he was a piece of me, and the name itself stopped being a random collection of letters out of WoW's name generator; I was Kudri. Even so, I never felt like I had been wronged if something happened to him. I was still aware that I was playing a game, and that my character never really died.
That connection, along with the ones I had made with other players, is what kept me subscribing. Then, one day, I decided to try another MMORPG, because I like seeing new games. As soon as I named by new character in that game "Kudri", the connection I had with my shaman in WoW broke; and it has been that way ever since. "Kudri", or "Khudri", has since become a name I use because my online friends recognize it, and I am too lazy to come up with something new.
I have heard about much deeper levels of peoples' connection to their online avatars, and I have seen varying levels of role-play in game. Seeing that just makes me sad for those people. I remember reading about Stewart in the article Who Am We? and the depression that eventually settled in once he realized that he would never accomplish what his avatar could. When I hear stories of people that met online, and that eventually meet in real life to form lasting relationships, I am happy for them, and I think it is great that we live in a time where that is possible. However, when I read about someone like Stewart, even during the good times, I just feel sorry for him.
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