Who created the horde of undead Resident bots that now infest Second Life's most Popular Places? That remains a mystery, but on further investigation, it seems to be more widespread than I originally assumed. After reading last week's New World Notes post on the pervasiveness of bots, Viajero Pugilist went in search of them in B&B Skins, an island fashion emporium that consistently ranks among the top of the Lindens' Popular Places category, a raw listing of total avatar foot traffic. He found them not buried inside an underwater vault, as Christophe Hugo had, but high overhead, in a cafe four hundred-plus meters in the sky above B&B island. They sat there staring blankly, and though Viajero invited them to dance, no one took him up on the offer. Since dancing is such an essential community activity, this was a dead giveaway. (If Second Life had a Voigt-Kampff, the Blade Runner test to discover synthetic humans, Harrison Ford would ask his subjects to get funky to James Brown.)
Last weekend, I tried to visit B&B's airborne zombie cafe, but was not as lucky; it's set above the limits of natural avatar flight. However, I did find the owner of the island, standing silently on the balcony of her mansion by the sea. I asked Bagnaria Wunderle about the dozens of undead above us.
"I hope your article includes all sims that are using bots," she told me. "There are hundreds. That is all I have to say."
To be fair, there seems to be some truth in that. At Miss Wunderle's prompting, I randomly visited three other sites listed in Popular Places, baldly asking questions like "Are you a bot?" to large groups I encountered there. I found just one of them full of actual Residents, albeit mostly away from keyboard, while their avatar collected free Linden Dollars in a camping system. Another site also had a cafe of bots, only situated at sea level, with a few genuine Residents sitting among the undead in camping chairs [See Update below.] A nightclub called TheHood had lined the bots up along the bar, like wallflowers watching a dance that they could never join:

Last year, the Lindens released an open source version of the Second
Life viewer code, as a way of encouraging innovation, and this is that policy's most unintended of consequences: hacked versions of the program that create numerous Potemkin Villages of simulated activity.
"There are different levels of sophistication," Bagnaria tells me. "In any case, bots are not all that different from camping. It is usually the percentage between bots and campers that differs."
I asked Bagnaria Wunderle how she justified her bots as another form of free money giveaway. After all, I said, "With camping, at least an actual Resident gets L$, right?"