Following news that the recreation of Donald Trump’s Florida mansion in virtual playground Second Life was owned by an anime schoolgirl, I decided to take a tour. It was lovely, until I was forcibly ejected by security.
Just when I thought I’d gotten Second Life out of my system, Trump drags me right back in. Driven by curiosity I logged into my old character, strapped on the requisite ears, tail and strawberry backpack and took a stroll through proof that Trump’s influence extends beyond the physical realm. Follow along in the video above, or read along below.
While concern over griefers has caused mansion owner JP Laszlo to set the house proper to private, a fact I overlooked until it was too late and I was booted miles into the sky, there’s plenty of Trump-flavored goodness to sample on the grounds. Despite my ears and tail the gates swung open freely, allowing me access to an exact replica of the real-world mystical portal that transports Trump supporters to his rallies.
The portal transported me to the recreation of a school gymnasium, where a Donald Trump cutout soundlessly shouted at row upon row of empty chairs. Or maybe he was shouting directly at me.
The cutout was only textured from the front. Walking behind it caused it to disappear, as if Trump only existed in one dimension.
Once I was finished being shouted at I wandered out of the gymnasium, where I encountered the Trumpmobile.
No matter how much I poked and prodded, the car refused to transform into a giant Donald Trump robot. If we’re not going to use Second Life to its full potential, what’s the point?
I hopped the fence back into the main compound and entered through the back door. I was so caught up in the majesty of the mansion that I did not notice the security pop-up, warning me I had 30 seconds to vacate the premises before being forcibly ejected.
I got as far as the spacious living room, with its gorgeous deer trophy and wall-mounted firearms before I was whisked into the sky.
Teleporting trespassers into the upper atmosphere is an incredibly effective means of keeping unwanted elements out of your home. Of course in real life said trespassers wouldn’t survive the landing, but I can’t argue with results.
Upon poofing back to the front of the mansion I discovered a network of yellow lines surrounding the property. For entering the mansion, ignoring the warning and possibly stealing fizzy lifting drink, I no longer had access to any of the rides at Trumpland.
But I still had camera control. Not even an impenetrable striped barrier could take the ability to pan and zoom away from me.
Books and alcohol seem to be a theme in the Second Life Trump Mansion. Here a copy of Wuthering Heights overlooks a well-stocked bar.
Here is the reading room, complete with more books and more booze.
Trump’s desk features a pair of photos of his family, if his family were a generic male avatar and what looks to be a woman wearing a Jungle Voodoo cheetah skin.
This is where the magic happens. Dark and terrible magic.
Finally we have the amazing kitchen, where many a Trump Steak has been prepared. Panning my camera inside the refrigerator revealed a healthy mixed of fruits and vegetables.
Having grabbed all of the footage I wanted, I teleported about the virtual world a bit, searching for other presidential campaign related areas.
This is my new desktop wallpaper.
The only other dedicated area I could find was for Bernie Sanders, consisting of an open area covered with meme pics. Every podium had a bird on it. It was not obnoxious at all.
I revisited the Trump Mansion a day or so later, and my ban had been reset, though the house itself remains off limits. It’s a real shame to build something so beautiful and not let people inside.
If you’ve got Second Life installed and would like to check out the mansion for yourself, click here to get your Trump on.
Note: A Chrome plugin error replaced Trump’s name with his family’s original surname of Drumpf in a previous version of this post.