In an article on Slate, Leigh Alexander writes that Quinn, who is working with the New York City Alliance Against Sexual Assault, is unlikely to get RapeLay banned since it was never sold in U.S. stores and has already been removed from Amazon and eBay. Hacked versions of the game's English translation are easily found on the Internet, but it's essentially impossible to police the transfer of the pirated software.

Alexander downloaded one of these illegal copies of RapeLay, in which a man stalks and rapes women in a subway station. She says playing the game resulted in "hours of getting depressed about the fate of humankind." She writes:

While the moral outrage from the New York City Council and Web sites like Jezebel and Shakesville is obviously well-placed, there's little hope that legislation or activism can stem the perversion. Not only is RapeLay rooted in a social illness that's embedded in Japanese society, it's just one game in a niche industry that's more closely related to the porn business than to the video game world.

The concept for RapeLay is actually inspired by Japan's current problem with chikan, or subway perverts. According to a 2004 study, 64 percent of Tokyo women reported that they've been groped on a train. The country has a high conviction rate for chikan, but it's easy for predators to hide on a crowded train and Japanese women are often too ashamed to report the crime.

RapeLay is part of a larger genre of sex-themed Japanese video games known as eroge. The games are usually sold in pornography stores, not with other video games. Eroge is popular in Japan, but Alexander says most games in the genre are not violent, but rather feature, "high-school dating stories, standard soap-opera melodrama that prioritizes narrative, and plenty of oddball pap starring cat girls and alien maids."

The Japanese government places no restriction on the themes of the games, but they are subject to censorship laws, so even in violent sex scenes genitalia will be blurred. As the blurring is removed in the pirated games, English language versions are actually more graphic than the games sold in Japan. Few manufacturers attempt to sell legal versions of eroge in the U.S., and websites that sell Japanese imports will often change the ages of underage characters to 18. No matter how disturbing these games may be, technically, the versions sold in the U.S. are not illegal.

And You Thought Grand Theft Auto Was Bad [Slate]

Earlier: Amazon Drops Rape Simulation Video Game

Take virtual fashion: lines like Simone!, Insolence and Shiny Things have given their designers significant exposure without the expense or labor of real startup. And lest you think it's just shut-ins and pretend people admiring their labors, think again:
real designers are well aware of the virtual fashion, and Armani and Gaultier have both set up shop in Second Life. American Apparel, unsurprisingly, has long been supplying virtual shiny leggings to virtual shoppers. As designer Peter Lokke told Entrepreneur.com last year, "when I found out how expressive I could be in Second Life and that I retain copyrights for the things I make, I knew I was in Second Life to stay." He even found his business partner - whom he's never met - online. There are numerous sites telling people how to get started as a virtual designer, begin a line, open a "boutique."

Of course, plenty of the designers restrict their creative impulses to Second Life, and even if they make money within the program, it's probably more of a sideline. This is cool, and if it's an easy way for people to share creativity in a way they otherwise couldn't, it seems great. The question, of course, is always whether virtual design - like virtual instruments and sports - takes up energy that could go into the real thing, and isn't really a substitute for it. For, say, an adult with a day job it seems like a wonderful pastime. But might a teen with design aspirations not get a better apprenticeship - or better grounding for a real-life career - some other way? Does becoming a celebrated virtual "designer", and seeing the rare success stories that arise from these programs, diminish the real difficulties and challenges of making a career? Or, to the contrary, is it merely expanding the horizons and possibilities for young people? It's probably too early to say, and more to the point, probably a little of "all of the above" given the booming popularity of the game.

What was striking about the Second Life divorce is that, while, yes, the people involved had physically beautiful avatars with more glamorous lives than their own, in essence this had nothing to do with the split. It was a vehicle to act out their estrangement, yes, but the couple's very real alienation and marital problems came first. At the end of the day, it was still real people acting in very human ways. Probably the same is true of virtual entrepreneurs and designers - if you can make it there, you'd make it in the real world. Maybe not as big or as easily, but work, imagination and initiative can't be manufactured.

Become a Fashion Designer in Your Second Life [Fashionista]
Oh Dave, sex with you in cyberland is unreal [Times of London]
Starting a Second Life Business [Entrepreneur.com]