OpenSim

What I find particularly fascinating about OpenSim is the magical ability to watch the behind-the-curtains communication that accompanies everything we do in this Life, as if the laws of nature (or the forces that convey those laws to our perceptions) were laid bare. Our universe is in active communication with our client, receiving requests, seeking permissions, assigning agents, requesting inventory and wearables, and broadcasting appearances to other agents. Of course I am the only being to exist in my Universe, so these (extracted) lines are like eavesdropping on the language of angels:
16:51:12 - [LOGIN BEGIN]: XMLRPC Received login request message from user 'Young' 'Geoffrion'
16:51:12 - [LOGIN]: Authenticating Young Geoffrion
16:51:12 - [LOGIN]: Telling OpenSim Test @ 1000,1000 (http://127.0.0.1:9000) to prepare for client connection
16:51:12 - [LOGIN END]: XMLRPC Authentication of user Young Geoffrion successful. Sending response to client.
16:51:14 - [CLIENT]: Got authenticated connection from 127.0.0.1:1088
16:51:14 - [CLIENT]: Adding new child agent Young Geoffrion in OpenSim Test
16:51:14 - [APPEARANCE]: Sending appearance to all other agents for Young Geoffrion
16:51:14 - [FRIEND]: Young Geoffrion logged in; sending presence updates
16:51:14 - [FRIEND]: Young Geoffrion doesn't have friends.
16:51:14 - [FRIEND]: Claiming Young Geoffrion in region:1099511628032000
No doubt those readers who work with networks and protocols will find nothing remarkable about it. To the neophyte, it is metaphysical poetry. I am impressed that our names are first presented in quotes, and that a region claims us as their own, as though our existence were somehow in doubt. On reflection it is in doubt indeed, and our name, person, appearance, indeed our very claim to the tiny portion of space or time we occupy is the result of an agreement between those who perceive us and the universe at large. For if we could not agree that Young Geoffrion was an avatar agent, she would be no more than a whirling blur of bits and pixels, a message without a receipient or a sender.
Ponder thine own existence then, and what you are without them who love you and the region that claims you for its own.