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Dark Siren: Part 4

September 20, 2009 by 2 Comments

Dark Siren CoverIt’s time for part four of the Dark Siren serialisation. You can see Part 1 here, Part 2 here, Part 3 here, and if you like what you read, please do support an up and coming author and buy the full book as a PDF here for only US $7.95. Payments are accepted via PayPal or credit card.

Chapter 7

Instead of going back to his office, Nez headed to the courtyard for a smoke. He sat on a wooden bench in the afternoon sunshine and studied Everett’s folder. There were contact details of the main players: the FBI’s rep in Canberra, James Whitman, Wayne Chapman from the Australian Federal Police, and Simon Austin of the AHTCC – a new high-tech crime agency he hadn’t heard of. The next page contained a list of the four Avataria names Kyrylo had been in regular contact with: Carmen Verne, Alan Menuti, Ginger Stallion and Blow Daley.

Stapled together was a scanned copy of a standard NSW Police evidence log – a long list of items that had been seized in the raid including the contents of the laptop. A number of things caught his eye – the presence of Steganos software, an article from the political e-zine Salon.com about Senator Jack Gallagher, and a memo from Simon Austin noting the possibility that a certain Joss Guest was another of Kyrylo’s avatars.

The use of Steganos was kind of ironic, he thought. Developed initially to foil hackers, it was now being used by them. He knew the FBI were concerned that they were intercepting fewer and fewer communications between Druzhba operatives, but far from meaning that they were doing less business, this actually suggested that they were using a new way of communicating each other without being tracked. Steganos could insert encrypted files into all sorts of files including bitmapped images – one of the formats used by thousands of Avataria residents to take screen snapshots and pass them around.

Back in his office, Nez checked his watch and picked up the phone to call Canberra. An assistant answered, but Simon soon came to the phone. Nez introduced himself.

“I’ve been asked to call you about your interest in Avataria.”

“Are you with the FBI?”

“We work with them.”

“You know about the raid, then?”

“I’ve just read the stuff you sent me on Kyrylo. Interesting reading. We have a history. So what do you want to know?”

Simon came straight to the point.

“I’ve been logging on to Avataria and some other online games for several months in connection with an Al-Qaeda inquiry. That didn’t go anywhere, but we’re taking Avataria seriously as a potential criminal medium for money laundering, identity theft, communications channel – you name it.  When we busted Kyrylo’s office we found a laptop with a Avataria viewer. There was evidence of credit card scams and identity theft of some of Avataria’s Australian residents. Would that ring any bells with you?”

“Bet your life! Before Kyrylo skipped to Sydney he was into the same sort of scams in LA, but the Bureau could never pin anything on him. I didn’t know he was doing stuff in Avataria, though. That’s a new development.”

“Once the raid threw up the link, I went online,” Simon continued, “and checked out all the avatar names on Kyrylo’s viewer. I’ve sent you the list of them: Carmen Verne runs an in-world newspaper, the AvPost, and Alan Menuti is its Advertising Manager. But it’s Ginger Stallion and Blow Daley who interest me – particularly in the light of that Salon article on Jack Gallagher. They’re rent boys.”

“With those names, could they be anything else?”

Simon laughed. “They’re not monks, that’s for sure.”

“So what are you saying? That Jack’s been playing away from home in a virtual gay bordello?

“Not exactly. But isn’t he the great white hope of the Democratic Party in the next Presidential election?”

“You wanna be careful, using that phrase in American politics.”

“Great white hope?’

“Yeah. Do you know what it means?”

“Sort of…”

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’ then.” Nez laughed.

“Tell me.”

“It was a play, then a film… the story of a successful black boxer that a racist society wanted to bring down… with one of their own.”

“Hence the term, Great White Hope?”

“Yes.”

“So not applicable to Gallagher?”

“Not really… but I know what you mean. Let’s just say that Gallagher’s the frontrunner.”

“I don’t want to sound alarmist, but given Kyrylo’s background…”

“Mainly fraud, forgery and extortion,” said Nez, “but so far no blackmail.”

“There’s always a first time.”

“So how can we help?”

“I’ve been told to catch Kyrylo. As you can imagine the federal cops here aren’t exactly happy with a heavy duty crim like him on the loose.”

“I thought the Bureau gave you a tip off where to find him.”

There was a slight hesitation on the other end of the phone.

“They did, but he got away.”

“Got away?”

“The place we raided had an exit we didn’t know about.”

“Surely the regular cops will catch up with him sooner or later?”

“Maybe, but I’m not holding my breath. I reckon the best chance of finding him is through Avataria.”

“Tracking him when he next logs in, you mean?”

“Possibly, although we think he may have more than one avatar. I think we should try to trace those other guys.”

Nez leant back in his chair and put his feet up on the corner of the desk. “You seem to have made some progress already.”

“I’ve gone as far as I can online. I’d guess that all those avatars on Kyrylo’s contacts list are American citizens. I can’t trace them from here – that’s a job for the FBI.”

“You may be right,” said Nez. “but first you’d have to find out who the avatars belong to.”

“Could you lean on the Avataria management?”

“The CEO’s an old friend of mine. I’m hoping I won’t have to.”

Martin Bremer answered the phone with characteristic energy.

“Frank! What a surprise! Good to hear from you… how’s life at No Such Agency?”

“Bugging you all as usual,” said Nez good-humouredly, used to wisecracks about his old employer’s legendary obsession with secrecy. “But you’re out of date. I’ve moved on.”

“How come?”

“It’s a long story. You know the current administration’s love affair with public-private partnerships. I’m still technically with the Agency but I’m on attachment to one of their contractors.”

“Is that so? Funny, only the other day I was reading about you wiretappers being privatised.”

“Martin,” said Nez, “I’ve got a favour to ask. We think some very bad people are using your game for all the wrong reasons, and we need your help to stop them. I’ve got some names I’d like you to check out, and I want to come over tomorrow to get me set up in-world with a fancy avatar.”

“No problem. I’ll do whatever I can. I’ll ask Nathan, one of our guys, to help you  – he’s a whiz with avatars.” Then casually, “Do you have a warrant?”

“I’d like to keep this unofficial for the moment, Martin. Are you comfortable with that?”

“Sure… as it’s you, but do remember if it comes to court…”

There was the tiniest hint of alarm in Martin’s voice, Nez could tell. Come to think of it, he was alarmed as well. Why had Everett wanted it kept hush-hush? These weren’t terror suspects, they were almost certainly ordinary Americans. Was Everett holding something back? That was a no-brainer – he was such an obnoxious son of a bitch, secretive and always covering his ass… if push came to shove, he would deny all knowledge.

“Yeah… I know. 9.30 tomorrow morning OK for you?”

“You know where we are.”

On his way home, Nez pulled off the freeway and stopped at his local mall to get a takeaway dinner from his favourite Chinese eatery. At this time most shops were deserted and the bookstore next to the takeaway was just about to close. On impulse, he went inside and started browsing the computer gaming section. One title jumped out at him: ‘Life and Love in Virtual Worlds’. He thumbed through the pages; not all of it was relevant to Avataria, but there were some promising chapters on sub-cults, cyber prostitution, how to conduct online business, and, much more relevant to his present frame of mind, virtual speed dating. He took it to the cash point and paid, picked up his Singapore noodles from next door and headed home on the freeway just as the light was beginning to fade.

Chapter 8

San Francisco Bay Area, CA. 25 January 2008 : 9.35am

The offices of Avataria were located just off the Mountain View-Alviso Freeway with an attractive outlook over the County Park. Nez pulled into the shiny new complex a few minutes after the designated time and walked the few yards from the visitors’ car park to the main entrance. The sun was shining with the steely brilliance of a Californian winter. For the first time in months he felt a spring in his step – he was looking forward to catching up with Martin and sniffing around his virtual empire.

As he approached the building he couldn’t help noticing the Porsches, Jaguars, and other exotic marques parked in the executive bays on the other side of the walkway, which he guessed was the designated domain for the staff. The building was long and low in an almost Japanese style, with a shallow moat on either side of the entrance. The whole effect would have been of stylish, restrained opulence had there not been life size figures of a male and a female avatar in garish outfits on either side of the entrance steps. Disneyland had a lot to answer for. Nevertheless, he made unfavourable comparisons with his own seedy workplace, a far cry from this and the glass-and-chrome extravagance of NSA Headquarters at Crypto City. For a brief moment his ebullient mood left him and he felt quite depressed.

The glass doors opened automatically, but instead of revealing a conventional lobby with a receptionist and a desk there was a large circular area painted brilliant white, vaguely resembling a Star Trek teleport. A hi-def plasma monitor faced him, set into a curved teak panel set well forward from the back wall. Below and in front of the screen was a highly polished teak surface with a built-in keyboard and screen for checking emails, a few pens and notepads and a cordless telephone. On either side of the room were more screens showing constantly changing panoramas from Avataria, but more surprising were the seats: four beautifully made garden swings in the same teak as the TV wall panel, upholstered with exquisite Thai silk cushions. The subdued but distinct tones of Gamelan music could be heard issuing from hidden loudspeakers.

As he approached the screen flickered into life. An attractive female avatar vaguely reminiscent of an Asian flight attendant appeared and smiled as he approached:

“Good morning Mr Nez, how are you today?”

The voice was synthesised, but he could hardly tell. Stifling his astonishment, Nez replied coolly that he was good.

“You’re here to see Mr Bremer, I believe? He is expecting you, will you take a seat for a minute please?”

The avatar continued to smile, but in a slightly vacant way. Nez half expected her to fold her arms behind her head and pout like many Avataria women with custom animation overrides did when they were conversing.

He sat down nursing his briefcase on one of the swings, which gave a slight creak as he rocked gently backwards and forwards. He had to admit he was impressed, although he wondered how the avatar receptionist would greet a visitor who wasn’t on the database of the face recognition software. Default to ‘Good morning Sir/Good afternoon Madam’ perhaps, though determining sex based on CCTV data might be risky, he thought with a wry smile.

“My, what a long time it’s been. Eight years?” Martin Bremer was standing in front of him, right hand extended in welcome.

“Martin! I was miles away. You’re looking as fit as ever. I was just admiring your receptionist.”

“Oh… Maya? She’s cute, isn’t she?”

Bremer led the way behind the teak wall into an airy open plan room decorated in primary colours with large north facing skylights. It couldn’t really be called an office. In one corner was a group of young men and women clustered around some monitors on a bench, in another an arrangement of squashy sofas around a couple of plasma screens, and in the middle where the nearest thing to conventional work stations could be seen, Nez observed two small dogs lying asleep on an old blanket. On the right was a mezzanine level punctured by a fireman’s pole that terminated underneath in a heap of bright yellow plastic cushions.

“Love the fireman’s pole.”

“It’s the nearest thing we could get to a teleporter,” Bremer said with a laugh, nimbly stepping over a Segway personal transporter someone had abandoned in the middle of the room.

“Toys for the boys?”

“We call this the Nursery,” said Bremer without a trace of irony in his voice, and turning left passed through some double doors into a wide corridor. Here the atmosphere was more corporate, with several small glass-walled offices on one side and computer rooms on the other. Bremer’s office was at the end, sparsely furnished in the quasi-Japanese style of the building’s exterior. They both settled into easy chairs away from the desk and Martin called an assistant to provide some coffee.

“How’s the lovely Eva? Are the kids still at high school?.”

“Yeah. Alex is in Year 10 and Julia wants to do a gap year teaching kids in Africa when she finishes next year. Eva and I aren’t together anymore, by the way.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I presume that she got custody?”

“Yeah… well… life goes on.”

“You’ve got a list of those names for me, I assume,” said Bremer, tactfully changing the subject. He pulled out a small notebook from his inside jacket pocket and produced a pair of half-moon reading spectacles, “so what would you like to know about them?”

Nez handed over Simon’s list of avatars and detailed his requests: the names they signed up with, credit card information, chat and Instant Message logs, IP Addresses, and a list of ‘friends’ of each of the names and any records of whom they might have met online.

Bremer dutifully recorded all this in his notebook, then looking at Nez over the top of his glasses said, “I’m willing to do all this off the record for you, Frank, but I have to say this: until the day Congress legalises all this eavesdropping you might have a problem getting any court convictions without a FISA warrant.”

“You’re right,” said Nez, “but this directive comes from above, and I don’t really have any say in it.”

Bremer shrugged.

“Now. How else can I help? You want to go into Avataria undercover?” He laughed. “I almost said just like all the others.”

Nez smiled. “Well, look at it this way. I’m not exactly your typical Avataria demographic, am I? I need all the help and advice I can get so I don’t raise any eyebrows.”

Bremer continued to look over his glasses, but made no comment.

Nez continued: “We can only do so much with electronic snooping. This guy Kyrylo is already wanted by the Feds for a whole bunch of serious crimes, plus we think he may be up to something even more sinister. There may even be a political angle to it. I’ve gotta to go in there and do some old-fashioned investigating.”

“OK. But let me assure you of one thing. There is no typical Avataria demographic. Not really. It’s not just a game for students and computer geeks. You’ll be surprised to know that over 40% of our residents are over 35 years old. The way things are going in a few months’ time you’ll be just about average. And here is a statistic that might interest you: 27% of the women in Avataria are really men! Isn’t that something? I can’t remember how many gals are playing guys. Far less, I’m sure.”

“So it’s all about roleplay, then?” Nez was fascinated.

“Yeah. Roleplay… sex… and money. The usual elements of the human condition. Why would it be anything else?”

“Fertile ground for carpetbaggers and sharks with an eye to the main chance, then?”

“That too. It’s still caveat emptor out there…” He put his notebook away in an inside pocket and stood up. “OK… let’s go find Nathan.”

Bremer led the way out of his office to a technical area off the main corridor. In one of the cubicles a young man with a shaved head and an earring was scrolling through some code on a large plasma screen.

“Frank, I want you to meet Nathan King. He’ll take you through the basics of downloading the Avataria viewer, logging in, exchanging money, teleporting, and communicating with the residents. I’ll catch up with you later… have fun.”

Nathan was a bright Jamaican-British ex-pat from South London. He waved Frank into a seat next to him and typed away on his keyboard launching some 3D software. A few more strokes and a glamorous looking avatar appeared standing on a small plinth.

“OK… you’re the geezer who wants to go into Avataria as a chick, yeh?”

Nez nodded in affirmation. Bremer had recommended a female avatar as it was easier to talk to both male and female residents. He’d also hinted that if Nez wanted to get into the AvPost, a woman would be more likely to succeed as some of the management listed lesbian predilections on their profiles.

“This is Lauren Falmer. Tasty bird, innit?” He pointed to her luxurious shock of blonde hair. “Took me bleedin’ ages to find that ‘air. Now, before we start, have you played with Avataria before?”

Nez shook his head. “Not really. My daughter used to play it and showed me the basics.”

“You’ve gotta understand that some of the residents are very observant. Especially the ones who’ve been there a few years like the girls at the Post. Which is where you want to go, right? A lot of blokes who try to pass themselves off as women make some really basic mistakes. Like giving their avatars enormous tits for a start. Another dead giveaway is coming on too aggressive.”

Nathan paused, and revolved the camera around his creation. He glanced at Nez.

“So my advice is, don’t get too technical and always compliment the chicks on their outfits and hairdos. Believe me, it works a treat.”

“Avataria supports the Equal Rights Amendment, I take it?”

“Not wiv you, mate.”

“Never mind.”

Nathan continued undeterred. “Now, Have I explained lag to you?”

“No.”

“You won’t get it here, ‘cos the computers are fast and you’re not going through the internet. But if you was to play on a slow connection, or in another country, you’ll get lag.”

“Which means?”

“That your av will take a few secs to respond. So you’re tapping away on the direction keys and Lauren’s not doin’ nuffink. So you keep hitting the key and she suddenly takes off… can be quite awkward.”

“In what way?”

“Well, climbin’ stairs is the usual one. Mind you, if it was me I wouldn’t bovver wiv stairs in Avataria at all. Too much trouble. That’s wot teleporters are for.”

“Then why have them?”

“The punters want ‘em. Reminds ‘em of home or somefin’. I dunno, you tell me.”

“Punters?”

“Residents, customers, players, wotever… I calls ‘em punters.”

Nez couldn’t resist another dig.

“It’d be so much easier without the punters, wouldn’t it?

“You’re telling me.”

After explaining the options available to enhance Lauren’s movements and expressions, Nathan switched seats and let Nez try his new character out. He urged him to experiment with the everyday routines of changing Lauren’s clothes, adding animation overrides and walking without bumping into walls.

“You know there’s voice communication, dontcha? Not many people use it – they’d give the bleedin’ game away… know wot I mean?” He chuckled, and looked at Nez knowingly. “So if anyone asks you to talk to ‘em, say you ‘aven’t got a mike.”

Nez nodded, totally engrossed in propelling Lauren through a landscape of Gothic castles, California bungalows, night-clubs and shopping malls.

Nathan continued, “Okay, you seem ‘appy… I’m going off to do summink else, but here’s some places you should check out, yeh?” He pointed to a printed list next to the keyboard. “Visit a night club, go dancing, chat to people, get the ‘ang of the place. Then I’ll come back and test ya. Let me know if there’s anyfink you don’t understand.” He flashed a broad smile revealing a row of gleaming white teeth and a stud through the centre of his tongue. “Just keep off the cyberbonking, yeh?”

Filed Under: Art, Australian News, Virtual Worlds Tagged With:

Class action lawsuit leveled against Second Life’s Linden Lab

September 16, 2009 by 16 Comments

strokerzKevin Alderman’s Eros LLC, a Florida company devoted to mature content which started operating in Second Life way back when, has been the star attraction before. Alderman, also known as Stroker Serpentine in Second Life, has been well-known for his successful, adult business ventures, as well as two successful legal actions for virtual environment based copyright/trademark infringement (one vs Rase Kenzo AKA Thomas Simon, and one vs Volkov Cattaneo AKA Robert Leatherwood).

Alderman, in conjunction with Shannon Grei (known as Munchflower Zaius in Second Life) is now launching a class-action lawsuit against Linden Lab itself, alleging that (among other things) it profits from negligence and delay in dealing with trademark and copyright infringement issues, and that it also knowingly does so.

The plaintiffs’ case for willful infringement might seem a bit weaker in spots, but one area where it is on relatively certain ground is where Linden Lab is duly informed, and then fails to act or acts with egregious delay. In those circumstances, the Lab would be aware of the infringement, but continues to profit from it (directly or indirectly) until action is taken.

The complaint outlines four classes who may benefit from the suit:

  • The Trademark Owner Class: All individuals and entities in the United States who own, have owned, or otherwise have the right to enforce licensing rights to goods and services bearing trademarks or service marks registered with the United States Patent and Trademark Office, and who engage or have engaged in commercial transactions in Second Life associated with such registered trademark or service marks.
  • The Trademark Infringement Class: All individuals and entities in the United States who (1) own, have owned, or otherwise have the right to enforce licensing rights to goods and services bearing trademarks or service marks registered with the United States Patent and Trademark Office, (2) engage or have engaged in commercial transactions in Second Life associated with such registered trademark or service marks, and (3) whose trademarks and/or service marks were infringed in Second Life.
  • The Copyright Owner Class: All individuals and entities in the United States who own, have owned, or otherwise have the right to enforce licensing rights in connection with a copyright registered with the U.S. Register of Copyrights and who engage or have engaged in commercial transactions in Second Life associated with such copyrighted works.
  • The Copyright Infringement Class: All individuals and entities in the United States who (1) own, have owned, or otherwise have the right to enforce licensing rights in connection with a copyright registered with the U.S. Register of Copyrights (2) engage or have engaged in commercial transactions in Second Life associated with such copyrighted works, and (3) whose copyrights were infringed in Second Life.

(Obviously, participation in the suit appears to be limited to entities within the United States of America. The 430KB complaint document is available in PDF format.)

Overall, the plaintiffs assert that Linden Lab has not done all that is reasonable and expeditious to deal with infringement, and that it has profited from and continues to profit from its failure to do so.

While so-called ‘Safe-Harbor’ (or, in the USA ‘Common Carrier’) protections might generally apply to (for example) Web-site operators, Linden Lab has chosen to abrogate those protections by taking affirmative (and some might say editorial) action on content in Second Life and on Xstreet SL.

Linden Lab declined to comment, but Alderman was willing to discuss the complaint with us, “The complaint eloquently expresses the frustration of the ‘whack-a-mole’ situation many of us are faced with every day. It is very difficult to convey the disappointment you get when you work for weeks to release something you have poured your heart and soul into, only to have it ripped and placed into grid-wide vending systems within moments by an anonymous and expendable account.”

“You cannot effectively address the level of infringement and theft that takes place within a platform that does 1.2 million dollars a day in transactions with an amended TOS and an expanded Abuse Reporting System. The problem is systemic. Our hope is to initiate fundamental and effectual change in the way the Lab addresses the issue of rampant content theft, copyright and trademark infringement in Second Life.”

Finally, Alderman asserts his support of the platform, “We do not need ‘Nannies’. We need effective support. If we didn’t believe in the future of Second Life, we would have been gone years ago. Maybe, some of our disillusioned brethren (sisteren?) will return if they feel that their content once again has value. We’re all in this together. It is still our world and our imagination.”

Even if the suit is only partially successful, the implications stand to significantly change the way virtual world developers and operators deal with rights, trademarks and copyrights in every collaborative virtual environment, as well as raise both social and legal expectations of the behavior and conduct of those operators. This case is one to watch.

Filed Under: Business, General News, Law and virtual worlds, Virtual Worlds Tagged With: , , ,

Blonde logic and more

September 16, 2009 by Leave a Comment

BLONDE LOGIC
Two blondes living in Los Angeles were sitting on a bench talking…….. And one blonde says to the other, “Which do
You think is farther away………. New York or the moon?”

The other blonde turns and says “Helloooooooooo, can you see New York …?????”

CAR TROUBLE
A blonde pushes her BMW into a gas station. She tells the mechanic it died. After he works on it for a few minutes, it is idling smoothly. She says, “What’s the story?”

He replies, “Just crap in the carburetor”. She asks, “How often do I have to do that?”

SPEEDING TICKET

A police officer stops a blonde for speeding and asks her very nicely if he could see her license. She replied in a huff, “I wish you guys would get your act together. Just yesterday you take away my license and then today you expect me to show it to you!”

RIVER WALK

There’s this blonde out for a walk. She comes to a river and sees another blonde on the opposite bank. “Yoo-hoo!” she shouts,
“How can I get to the other side?” The second blonde looks up the river then down the river and shouts back, “You ARE on the other side.”

AT THE DOCTOR’S OFFICE

A gorgeous young redhead goes into the doctor’s office and said that her body hurt wherever she touched it.
“Impossible!” says the doctor. “Show me.” The redhead took her finger, pushed on her left breast and screamed, then she pushed her elbow and screamed in even more. She pushed her knee and screamed; likewise she pushed her ankle and screamed. Everywhere she touched made her scream.

The doctor said, “You’re not really a redhead, are you? “Well, no” she said, “I’m actually a blonde.”

“I thought so,” the doctor said. “Your finger is broken”

BLONDE ON THE SUN

A Russian, an American, and a Blonde were talking one day. The Russian said, “We were the first in space!” The American said, “We were the first on the moon!” The Blonde said, “So what? We’re going to be the first on the sun!”

The Russian and the American looked at each other and shook their heads. “You can’t land on the sun, you idiot! You’ll burn up!” said the Russian. To which the Blonde replied, “We’re not stupid, you know. We’re going at night!”

IN A VACUUM

A blonde was playing Trivial Pursuit one night. It was her turn. She rolled the dice and she landed on Science & Nature. Her
question was, “If you are in a vacuum and someone calls your name, can you hear it?”
She thought for a time and then asked, “Is it on or off?”

FINALLY, THE BLONDE JOKE TO END ALL BLONDE JOKES!

A girl was visiting her blonde friend, who had acquired two new dogs, and asked her what their names were. The blonde
responded by saying that one was named Rolex and one was named Timex. Her friend said, “Whoever heard of someone naming dogs like that?”

“HELLLOOOOOOO……,” answered the blonde. “They’re watch dogs!”

Filed Under: Email Joke Graveyard, General humor Tagged With:

Burlesque in Second Life: flirty, not dirty

September 15, 2009 by 2 Comments
ok – can you tell me a little about yourself – what got you into burlesque?
Lowell Cremorne: (I’ll take some pics while we talk too)
Lowell Cremorne: are you there?
chryblnd Scribe: sure 🙂 I’m an almost 1 year old female avi from Australia. I run a venue called Idle Rogue, and was looking for some interesting acts to pair with live acts I was running at that stage. Search took me to Ellie;s Burlesque, and I walked out with a job. They had just opned, and were basically scouting avatars. Live music costs a lot to stage, in linden terms, so originally I took the job partly to fund my own venue, and partly because it seemed exotic, but still tasteful. That was at the “little club”, which is very retro
chryblnd Scribe: lol
chryblnd Scribe: yes … writing you a little essay … I’ll turn typing animation on
Lowell Cremorne: ah ok hehe
IM: Wolfie Rankin: Hi Mate
Lowell Cremorne: ok – so I won’t go on too much about RL stuff but can I ask what state of Oz you live in and whether you’ve done any similar work in RL?

chryblnd_Scribe_smlLast week I received an email from NSW-based Second Life resident chryblnd Scribe, who is a Burlesque performer. It’s an art that suffers from lots of misconceptions – it’s worth reading a little of its history to get a fuller picture. At the bottom of this post you can also view a machinima of the burlesque work done by the group chryblnd in involved with.

I spent some time with chryblnd and colleague Slappy Doobie at their Burlesque club to discuss their work and perspectives on its impact.

Lowell Cremorne: Can you tell me a little about yourself – what got you into burlesque?

chryblnd Scribe: sure 🙂 I’m an almost 1 year old female avi from Australia. I run a venue called Idle Rogue, and was looking for some interesting acts to pair with live acts I was running at that stage. Search took me to Ellie’s Burlesque, and I walked out with a job. They had just opened, and were basically scouting avatars. Live music costs a lot to stage, in Linden terms, so originally I took the job partly to fund my own venue, and partly because it seemed exotic, but still tasteful. That was at the “little club”, which is very retro.

Lowell Cremorne: I won’t go on too much about RL stuff but can I ask what state of Oz you live in and whether you’ve done any similar work in RL?

chryblnd Scribe: I am in NSW, and no, I haven’t. I haven’t found the burlesque scene to be as strong in Australia as it is in the northern hemisphere, it’s very much a fringe culture. I get that impression from the Australian avatars I meet in SL, too … there’s always some guffawing when I say what I do 🙂 The other thing to note is that the creative possibilities in SL are obviously far greater than in RL. If I can dream it, I can create it, in SL.

Lowell Cremorne: Really? Do you think that’s because people don’t understand the background of burlesque as an artform?

chryblnd Scribe: Yes, in part I do think there’s a lack of cultural awareness, but I also suspect, in part, that the majority of Australians in SL, at least the ones I meet, live somewhat sheltered Second Lives. They’re very aware of the sex culture in SL, who isn’t? But in my experience, they’re not confortable differentiating striptease from stripping. They are also, in my experience, very afraid of the duplicitous nature of the internet. They almost ALWAYS think someone working in exotic entertainment is a man pretending to be a woman. They’re not against that, mind you … they just don’t want to be proven to have been duped by it 😀

Lowell Cremorne: Absolutely – on the awareness thing, how aware of burlesque were you prior to SL?

chryblnd Scribe: Reasonably aware … burlesque, or nouveau burlesque, has had something of a revival, and most of us are at least peripherally aware of, say, Dita von Tease. When I stumbled opon Ellie’s, I was looking for a working burlesque troupe specifically. I just didn’t know if they existed, and hadn’t thought of myself as potentially being part of it. I’ll note when I first considered taking the job, I created an alt to do it 🙂 In the end, though, I respected what they were doing, and decided it was within the bounds of what my avatar would do with her Second Life.

Lowell Cremorne: So you’re more of a manager than a performer yourself?

chryblnd Scribe: I was managing. I’ve stopped now, because I am also running a more “dark side” burlesque venture at my own venue. And I perform, at this point, five times a week 🙂

Lowell Cremorne: So can you describe a typical burlesque performance you do?

chryblnd Scribe: Sure 🙂 My own acts are elaborately set, because I build, and tend to the more “fantastic” side. I have an act as a butterfly, set in a garden, another set in a firepit, a Japanese setting, and in the video, mine is the act with the meteors. The acts involve choreographing animations to music, the props are not animated (though some dancers use animated chairs, and we never use poles) . Once the dancing has begun, then I emote the elements of the striptease that I can’t visually provide, so the removal of clthing, and interactions with the audience

Lowell Cremorne: So the acts tend to have some link to the original burlesque where there is a show much wider than the striptease itself?

chryblnd Scribe: Yes, and with the teams I work with, particualrly. We are very respectful of the genre, but we also like to have an occasional modern edge. The outfit I’m wearing, for example, is part of my personal attempt to “get back to the roots” … I am Rita Hayworth in Gilda … and there is great latitude for our dancers. Some are amazing emoters … some are more performance artists. For us, the thing we want most to provide is a great night out, and the feeling of having seen a “show”.

Burlesque is much more appealing, statistically, to women. So it’s important that we have glamour, and fabulous costumes. But we want them to bring a date, so we make sure we have something for everyone, so to speak. It’s also pertinent to note that we NEVER do full nudity, and that is out of respect to the art form

Slappy DoobieLowell Cremorne: What is the gender split of your audiences usually?

chryblnd Scribe: I would say since we opened the Factory, we are more evenly split. The smaller club can only take 20 avis, and fills up fast. Until the release off the video and the opening of the larger club, I would say our audience was 75% or more female.

Lowell Cremorne: So you’ve got more men since the video? How has the response been?

chryblnd Scribe: We have absolutely had more males since the release of the video, and more couples, too, and we hope that that’s because people are realising that we are “flirty” rather than “dirty”, and possibly even that there are some clever things to see at our shows. The video reponse has been exciting for me, but I’ve never followed one before, Watching it spread has been very interesting. We’ve still only small numbers, but they are growing every day, and they are reflected in our attendance.

Lowell Cremorne: Back to the Australian scene – how do you believe RL burlesque performers would perceive the work you’re doing?

chryblnd Scribe: Well … I think they would need first to understand the limitations of the platform. The video has been posted on at least one RL burlesque scene, and was considered to be nice but poorly animated … and that, of course, is because the viewers don’t play the game or are involved in more mainstream animations. And I read one blog where it was noted RL performers would kill for a dressing room like ours. I think RL Burlesque is probably a lot more collaborative, here we must build or buy our own sets, and have sole control over the animations we can access. But I like to think the “ethic” would be appreciated – we rehearse for hours, we aim our acts very carefully and we adhere as much as possible to the idea of wit and eloquence.

Lowell Cremorne: So have you been to RL burlesque shows to get ideas etc? Where do you see the home of burlesque to be worldwide?

chryblnd Scribe: I have not been to a RL burlesque show. I live in a very small town in regional NSW lol … it’s NOT a big market here. But to a one, the girls I work with have done, and some are former RL burlesque dancers. I would consider New Orleans to be, or at least have been, the home of RL burlesque, but I know Canada has a very strong scene, and I suspect their opinion would differ. I get my ideas from old movies, Youtube clips, and songs that I love, incidentally.

Lowell Cremorne: A final question: who would your biggest burlesque inspirations be as far as performers go?

(Slappy Doobie enters the interview)

chryblnd Scribe: My biggest inpirations are my fellow dancers, who are vastly more learned in the art. The rest comes from a love of old movies and a grandmother who never gave up being a wild child, leading to my suspicion that there was a WHOLE lot more going on in that era than we would believe 🙂 I do think, however, as it is Slappy whose vision directs us all, that she would be eminently qualified to answer on my behalf.

Lowell Cremorne: What’s your vision for all of this and who inspires you in RL burlesque?

Slappy Doobie: hmm.. well..my original vision was to basically have a place that gave the people in SL something that didnt quite exist here and to be honest it became even more than I ever hoped. I owe that to all the people that have been involved. As far as my inspiration in Burlesque? Well I’d have to say of course Gypsy Rose Lee for traditional, and Ellie and I are big fans of the Velvet Hammer – a present day burlesque club in Los Angeles. And I’ve always been a big fan of dance in RL too.

Check it out in-world

E&S Burlesque Factory

Filed Under: Australian News, Profile, Virtual Worlds Tagged With: , ,

Midwifery, birth and Second Life

September 13, 2009 by 3 Comments

birthing-unit-aug2009(This story originally appeared over at Metaverse Health)

For the past couple of years I’ve been aware of the work going on in New Zealand with midwifery training and Second Life, mostly thanks to the updates over at SLENZ.

Machinima maker Pooky Amsterdam dropped me a line about a film she’s helped produce that explains the role of Te Wāhi Whānau – The Birth Place in Second Life. The lead educator on the project is Sarah Stewart (SL: Petal Stransky), with SLENZ Project co-leader, Terry Neal (SL: Tere Tinkel) and Scotland based Russell (Rosco) Boyd also heavily involved.

Take some time to watch the 6-minute machinima:

After walking through the actual build and after watching the machinima, the main impression I’m left with is how midwife-driven this project is. What I mean by that, is the birthing unit is so much better than most in existence in the real world. As a Registered Nurse (but not a midwife), I’ve witnessed half a dozen births and even from that limited perspective I can totally appreciate how much better a birthing environment Te Wāhi Whānau is compared to even the better hospital-based birthing units. As a clinical simulation for midwives, I can see its power as a key adjunct to lab-based learning and practicums. The gamut from initial assessment of labour to initiating breastfeeding and perineal care is covered in a comprehensive way.

The SLENZ team deserve major kudos for their work over the past couple of years – they’re some of the true pioneers in virtual worlds and health.

You can of course view the birthing unit for yourself here.

Filed Under: Australian News, Health, Virtual Worlds Tagged With: , ,

World of Warcraft: the ‘crack’ myth

September 8, 2009 by 3 Comments

firemage-sept2009Before I question some of the hyperbole floating around the mainstream media over the ‘World of Warcraft is like crack’ story, I have to make a disclosure. I do play World of Warcraft and am in fact a Level 80 Fire Mage. Snigger all you want, but there’s dozens, if not hundreds of you reading this that play WoW too, and you love it. More on that later.

The latest iteration of the ‘WoW as Crack’ story, finally picked up by the mainstream Australian media, is that a UK-based psychiatrist is asking WoW’s creator Blizzard Software to cough up some money to assist counsellors who want to get to know the game better. The theory is, once they understand what it is they’re dealing with, they can tailor interventions better. As a health professional myself, it actually makes a lot of sense. Without knowing the environment a person with a problematic behaviour interacts with, it’s difficult to fathom their motivations or triggers for what they are doing. Blizzard Software, not surprisingly, haven’t made a comment on the issue. They’re not about to trumpet the need for counselors to be embedded within their game, even though there have been some significant individual examples pop up here and there.

Some would argue Blizzard, or any game creator, aren’t under any obligation to assist the proportion of their clientele who play at harmful levels. Others will claim there’s as much a duty of care as say a tobacco company may have to its customers. The reality probably sits somewhere in the middle. It wouldn’t hurt Blizzard to fork out a few thousand dollars to assist health professionals trying to get their head around why a teenager or adult wants to spend 16 hours a day undertaking raids or quests. As a corporate citizen it’d give Blizzard some credibility and let them influence the agenda of how big the issue really is. As a proportion of its more than 11 million users who pay US$12.99 per month, truly addicted users would only make up a tiny percentage. Add to that those who compulsively play (there’s a difference) and you have a bigger population but still far from the majority. There’s no doubt there are people whose lives are seriously damaged by addiction to massive multiplayer games – it’s just that they’re well and truly outnumbered by those who’ve found a whole new social outlet or those exploring the learning opportunities.

Which brings me back to those of you who play WoW: next time you log in, type “/played” in your chat window and be dismayed or amazed at how many days you’ve been a Troll Shaman. I put in around 25 days of time per year in WoW, which probably makes me borderline compulsive. That said, I’ve substituted 2-3 hours per day of Australian Idol and Rove for an activity that requires strategy, socialisation and hand/eye coordination. How is that undesirable behaviour?

Filed Under: General News, Op-ed, Virtual Worlds Tagged With: ,

Education.au and immersive learning

August 31, 2009 by 5 Comments

SA-based Kerry Johnson is a an educator who let me know about two projects she’s been involved with. The first is a video called “Immersive Learning” it’s game on!”. Kerry states its purpose is “to help educators start conversations with administrators and policy makers regarding the educational benefits of immersive learning environments.”

This is one impressive effort that beautifully sums up the educational outcomes being generated in virtual environments like Second Life, World of Warcraft and Quest Atlantis. Watch it for yourself here:

You can download the video here and it’s licensed under a Creative Commons, Attribution, Non-commercial, No Derivatives license.

The second project is happening this Friday, 4 September. TAFESA are after educators willing to be volunteers to roleplay customers for a Second Life scenario for customer service trainees. If you are interested, register here.

The TAFE sphere have been key drivers of virtual worlds and education in Australia, and videos like the one above make it clear why.

Filed Under: Australian News, Education, Virtual Worlds Tagged With: ,

Dark Siren: Part 1

August 25, 2009 by 5 Comments

Dark Siren CoverLast week, Tateru Nino reviewed Dark Siren, and as promised we’re really pleased to be able to present the first of a few posts that serialise a large part of the book.

Author Clifford Wycliffe is Australian, and has put a huge amount of effort into his creation of Avataria, which draws very heavily on Second Life for inspiration.

Reproduced below is the Prologue and the first two chapters. If you like what you read, you can buy the full book as a PDF here for only US $7.95. Payments are accepted via PayPal or credit card. We’re not getting any kickbacks, just the warm glow of helping an Aussie virtual worlds fiction author 😉

Please don’t hesitate to post your thoughts on Dark Siren in the comments, and look out for further chapters in the coming weeks.

As Tateru says in her review:

“It’s a pretty solid Australian crime-detective novel, involving a very realistic portrayal of Second Life, with a solid blend of high-tech crime, political skullduggery and human weakness. On the whole, I’d heartily recommend it to fans of the genre.”

Prologue

Cold Finger Bar, Avataria.  16 January 2008 : 3am PST

At 3am the Cold Finger Bar was almost deserted. On both sides of the dance floor, a bored pole dancer in a sparkly lurex costume gyrated ritualistically on a podium, each surrounded by an almost empty semicircle of seats. To achieve good search engine rankings in Avataria demanded a high throughput of visitors, so avatars with outgoing personalities were hired to make the place look busy. That didn’t fool anybody in the Cold Finger Bar, least of all the rent boys who made up the bulk of the customers.

Ginger Stallion settled back against the cushions in one of the snugs and tried to look as cool and desirable as he could, given the limitations of the animation override on his avatar. Hanging around was a tiresome aspect of the job. The clients were another. Boorish college dropouts looking to liven up their onanistic fantasies or shy beginners unsure of their true sexual orientation. Give it another ten minutes, he thought.

Whitney Houston’s I Wanna Dance With Somebody stuttered intermittently in his headphones thanks to a slow Internet connection. His friend Blow Daley seemed engrossed in the gyrations of one particular dancer, a flashy looking shemale called Sugar Plumb whose costume emitted a shower of sparks each time she twirled around the dance pole in front of him.

Sugar Plumb: Like my dancing, Blow?

Blow Dailey:  Sure. It’s cute. And so are you, Sugar.

Sugar Plumb: Why thank you… would you like me to strip for you?

Blow Dailey:  How much that gonna cost?

Sugar Plumb:  Whatever you think I’m worth, darlin’

Blow clicked on Sugar Plumb’s tip jar and donated AV$20. An automated message lit up on the bottom left of his laptop screen:  Sugar Plumb thanks you for the kind donation. Sugar’s avatar started to shed garments piecemeal. Like taking a blowtorch to plastic, he thought idly. Gypsy Rose Lee she wasn’t, that was for sure.

Sugar Plumb:  So where are you boys from?

This time it was Ginger who answered.

Ginger Stallion: L.A.

Sugar Plumb:  Lookin’ for a nice girl?

Ginger Stallion:  Lol… not exactly. We work out of here… except it’s been kinda dead tonight.

Sugar Plumb:  Omg…  sorry…  I thought you were customers. I’m new here…  guess that’s why I haven’t seen you before.

Ginger Stallion:  And where are you from, hon?

An incoming message flashed up in Ginger’s viewer before Sugar had a chance to reply.  The caller’s name was unfamiliar and the grammar stilted.

IM: Joss Guest: Hello Ginger. I am friend of Ariana…  she recommend you

IM: Ginger Stallion: do I know you?

The caller ignored the question, which faded off the screen.

IM: Joss Guest: you are gay escort, yes?

IM: Ginger Stallion: yes… amongst other things…

IM: Joss Guest: I may have job for you. What are your charges?

IM: Ginger Stallion: Depends… basic AV$2500 per hour plus extras…

IM: Joss Guest: Extras?

IM: Ginger Stallion: Yeah… like room hire

IM: Joss Guest: don’t worry… I have room… dungeon actually

IM: Ginger Stallion: You into S&M?

IM: Joss Guest: If you’ve have suitable friend, I pay you $AV2500 each for one hour’s work… all included

IM: Ginger Stallion: Together?

IM: Joss Guest: Yes, together.

IM: Ginger Stallion: AV$3000 each upfront and you’ve got a deal

There was a pause before the text resumed.

IM: Joss Guest: You drive hard bargain Mister Stallion

IM: Ginger Stallion: That’s ‘cos we’re good

IM: Joss Guest: You’d better be. My client is very… how do you say? -  very particular

IM: Ginger Stallion: You won’t be disappointed

IM: Joss Guest: I hope not. Very well… it’s a deal. I contact you later to arrange time and place.

IM: Ginger Stallion: any particular likes and dislikes?

The text slowly faded leaving a blank screen. The caller was gone.

Joss Guest? The name didn’t ring any bells. Ginger called over to his friend, who by this time was deep in conversation with the shemale dancer:  Blow… d’ya know anyone by the name of Guest… Joss Guest? I’ve just had an IM from this dude about a job… friend of Ariana’s, think he was foreign…

No reply.

hey, Blow…

Still no reply.

Never mind… forget it. I’m outa here… I’ll see you tomorrow.

And with that, Kyle Martinez, aka Ginger Stallion, second year student of the Computer Science Dept. UCLA, logged out of Avataria, switched off his laptop and went to bed.

Chapter 1

Alexandria, Sydney, Australia. 23 January 2008: 4am AEDT

Lit only by sidelights the large black van hissed silently past on the wet road and came to a stop in front of Simon Austin’s parked car. Pools of water from an early morning shower sat in depressions in the asphalt as he quietly got out of the vehicle and walked towards the van. As he approached, the back door opened and heavily armed police in body armour piled out silently and conferred with three local officers waiting in the shadows. Simon shook hands with the Inspector, who introduced him to the leader of the Tactical Operations squad.

“Sergeant Blake – this is Simon Austin, AHTCC Canberra. We’ve been through all the details, is there anything you want to discuss before we go in?”

“No, sir. We know the guy’s armed and dangerous, and we’re prepared. How many do you think are in there?”

One of the younger constables from the NSW police stepped forward.

“I’ve been watching the place since yesterday arvo, sir. Kyrylo went in around lunchtime, and his two blokes turned up around half past five. No one’s come or gone since.”

“So three then?’

“Yep.”

The team set off at a jog across the car park towards the two storey office block, dark except for the patchy reflected light of a few street lamps behind the trees. Keeping in single file, they moved soundlessly behind a low wall until they were up against the building, heading for the main entrance. Simon and the three regular police followed at a safe distance, trying not to make any noise.

Lady Carmen & AlanThe Senior Sergeant looked round to check that the team were in place, then producing a ram, swung it forward hitting the grey security door with enormous force. The echo of the crash reverberated in the silence and a flock of startled birds flew up from the trees lining the road. The impact bent the frame, but the reinforced panel refused to budge. A squad member forced a long metal bar into the crack that had appeared and with the combined leverage of two men finally snapped the locks. Black-clad figures carrying assault rifles swarmed through the gap and up the concrete stairs shouting ‘Police! Stay where you are!’; another crash, then shouts and banging could be heard coming from the first floor. A moment later the sound of a shot rang out, followed by a short burst of automatic fire, shouts and a door slamming. More confusion: noise of boots on concrete, a stifled curse, and from the other end of the building, the distant clatter of footsteps on a metal staircase. Then silence, broken only by the crackling of a voice over a police radio: “Clear! Officer down! Call the ambos! Now!”

The Inspector shone his torch into the stairwell, and ran up the stairs two at a time to the first floor with Simon following. Someone had found the light switches and a line of fluorescents flickered into life as they reached the landing. They passed through a splintered door into an anteroom, where police were pointing their weapons at the figure of a man lying face down on the floor clad only in underpants and T-shirt. Two camp beds with sleeping bags lined a wall decorated with pictures of Jessica Alba torn from Ralph magazine; the only table was littered with empty beer cans and the remains of a takeaway meal. A few discarded clothes lay on the floor and the room stank of stale sweat and pizza.

“Not exactly the Ritz, is it?”

The Inspector ignored Simon’s comment and led the way into a large shabby office painted an incongruous purple. There were four foldaway tables butted together; on them sat a laptop, several electronic components, two mobile phones and what looked like boxes of credit card blanks. Along the back wall were stacked unopened cartons of brand new plasma TVs, iPhones, digital cameras and various other electronic goods.

The leader of the police squad was lying on the floor, his head in a widening pool of blood that was already seeping into the grubby floor tiles. A colleague kneeling over him turned as the Inspector approached.

“Senior Sergeant Blake’s been hit, sir.” he said. “It’s serious.”

“An ambulance is on its way. Can you can do anything for him?”

“No sir. He’s been shot in the face.”

“Is he still breathing?”

“Yes sir, but his pulse is very weak.”

Simon turned away in shock, suddenly feeling sick and queasy. By the window a unshaven young man in jeans and singlet sat looking terrified, handcuffed to a battered office chair, a young constable’s assault weapon jammed in his ear.

“The bastard got Vince.” The policeman was almost crying, and spat the words out in a thick Scottish accent, kicking the chair for good measure.

“What happened?”

“It was dark. There was a shot and Vince went down. I let off a few rounds but must’ve missed. He got away through the door at the back.”

“You knew he was ex-Ukrainian special forces?”

“Of course we bloody did.”

“I’m sorry about Sergeant Blake. You did all you could.”

Kyrylo’s FBI mugshot didn’t match either of the two captives. Simon walked over to the Inspector who was talking into a mobile phone.

“Can you get some men to search for Kyrylo? He got out the back way. And check for blood stains – he might have been hit.”

“Taken care of. They’re doing it now. Just don’t hold your breath.”

“I am so sorry. About the sergeant, I mean. Will you keep me informed?”

“Of course. But don’t beat yourself up about it. He was doing his job and he knew the risks.”

“Even so… it looked pretty bad.”

“What do you want us to do with all this stuff?”

“We don’t need the TVs and the iPods, just all the gear on the tables.”

“OK. I’ll get it all bagged up for you.”

“I’ll need to take the computer back to Canberra with me.”

“No worries.”

“I’m going catch a few hours sleep, but I’d like to interview those guys first thing. Eight o’clock OK?”

The Inspector was already making another phone call.

“Inspector?”

“Sure.”

Simon was privately seething. The two arrested men were small fry and one of their own was badly hurt. The target of the raid had got away. The FBI had given them good information and Whitman would not be impressed. They had screwed up big time.

“Just make sure you take bloody good care of that laptop.”

He left the office and headed downstairs. From behind him came some muffled cries and what he knew to be the sound of someone being kicked. As he walked across the car park an ambulance was backing up against the front door, now hanging forlornly on one hinge. By the time he got to his car, the paramedics were going inside with a stretcher, the scene lit by the ghostly flashing of the blue lights on a parked patrol car. Shaking his head, he turned the ignition key, pulled out from behind the black van and headed back to his hotel.

Chapter 2

Kings Cross Police Station, Sydney, Australia : 23 January 2008 : 8am

Three hours later after a snatched rest, a shower and a strong cup of coffee, Simon phoned his supervisor at the AFP in Canberra. He was expecting to be read the riot act, as Chapman was a man given to intemperate outbursts.

“The bastard got away, I hear.”

“I am as angry as you are, Wayne. He slipped out through a new back doorway that wasn’t on the plans. They searched for him for an hour, but no luck.”

“Luck doesn’t come into it Simon. It was a stuff up, mate, pure and simple.”

“We’ll get him Wayne. We’ve effectively busted his organization in Sydney.”

“Sergeant Blake died this morning on the way to hospital.”

“I know. I feel responsible.”

“It was a bloody shambles. Can’t be helped, I suppose. That Kyrylo fella is one tough customer.”

“We did get his laptop though. I’ll bring it back with me and we’ll let the techos loose on it.”

“And the two blokes you caught?”

“Just going in to the interview room now. But I’m not expecting much – they’re local crims that Kyrylo hired to do menial stuff. I’ll keep you posted.”

Simon replaced the phone in its cradle and briefly pondered how he was going to conduct the interrogations. There’d been no joy from the owner of the offices involved. The premises they had raided had been on a short lease, managed by a local real estate agent and signed by someone who apparently didn’t exist. The new interconnecting door had been installed without planning permission six months earlier when the landlord had bought the building in the next street.

Lady Carmen_2The two suspects were being held in separate cells. The first, the swarthy man in jeans, had given his name as Salim Chamoun, 28 years old, originally from the Lebanon but a naturalised Australian. The second was a no-hoper from The Cross, Australian-born Gareth Johnston. Both had a string of petty convictions going back years, and according to the Inspector, neither was in a mood to talk. Simon sensed that they were scared witless by Kyrylo, and judging by the violent response to the attempt to arrest him, Simon could understand why. Johnston had been recruited by Salim, who had a distant family connection with Kyrylo’s sister, who had married into a family living in Beirut. Both denied having anything to do with the laptop; their role was to skim credit card information from legitimate credit card holders, and use the resulting fake cards to buy high value goods before the owner discovered the theft. To those ends Salim had taken up employment as a waiter in a busy upmarket restaurant, while Gareth worked as a cashier in a petrol station.

Simon had expected the interviews to commence on the dot of 8am, but as he entered the police station, the duty sergeant pulled him aside.

“You the bloke from the Hi-Tech Crime Centre? I’m Sgt. Crawford. I don’t think Salim’s going to be much use to you this morning. He’s not feeling very well.”

It all came back to him with a rush. The muffled cries and the sounds of a bashing as he left the warehouse. NSW’s finest settling a score.

“What do you mean, he’s not feeling very well? “What happened?”

“He tried to make a run for it as they were taking him out of that building this morning. Fell down a flight of stairs… few cuts and bruises, but he’ll be alright.”

“So when can I see him? It’s very important. And what about Gareth Johnston?”

The Sergeant leaned across the desk and lowered his voice conspiratorily.

“Look mate, I don’t think it would be wise to formally interview Salim at the moment, if you catch my drift. But I could arrange a few minutes in his cell, if that’s any use to you.’

Simon nodded his assent and the Sergeant grabbed a bunch of keys and led him downstairs. He stopped in front of one of the cells and looked through the viewing flap.

“Still asleep, the lazy bugger!”

He unlocked the door and they both walked into the cell. Salim was lying on the bunk fast asleep, his face to the wall. The sergeant shook him roughly.

“C’mon ya bastard! Wake up! There’s someone here to see you.”

Simon was visibly shocked when Salim finally turned round. He’d expected the police detail to rough him up after what had happened to Blake, but not to this extent. One of the prisoner’s eyes was almost shut and black with bruises, and there were deep cuts on his cheeks. His knuckles were raw and bloody and one arm was in a sling.

He turned to the sergeant.

“Injuries incurred whilst resisting arrest, eh? I hope you got the ambos to look at him.”

Crawford was offhand. “We took him to the hospital with Blake. They checked him over and discharged him this morning. He’ll be right.”

Simon asked the sergeant to step outside, then turned back to Salim.

“You know you could be charged with accessory to murder over the shooting this morning?”

Salim responded with a grunt and turned back to the wall. Simon shook him again.

“Look mate, help me with this one and I’ll put a good word in for you. I’m only interested in what Kyrylo was up to with the computer.” Salim muttered something that Simon couldn’t catch. He shook him again. “C’mon, speak up.”

“I said, he used the computer to make new cards.”

“And was that all?”

There was no response.

“Salim!”

“Fuck off and leave me alone. I ain’t sayin’ no more without a brief.”

“Alright, if that’s your attitude, maybe the sergeant will help change your mind.”

Salim half turned around and raised himself on one elbow. “Look, as far as I’m concerned the bloke was a psycho. We didn’t ‘ave nothin’ to do with the computer. He wouldn’t let us. All I know was that he used to visit some funny porn sites.”

“Porn sites? What was funny about them?”

“They didn’t ‘ave real people in them. They was cartoons… like those Japanese anime things.”

“What were they doing?”

“What weren’t they doin’ more like.”

“Tell me.”

“It was gay porn… not that I could see much, but that was what it was.”

“And that was all?”

“In dungeons… with two blokes. That was what it was. Now leave me alone.”

Simon was about to ask another question, but thought better of it. He called to Crawford who was waiting outside the door.

“We’ve finished mate… thanks. Where’s Johnston being interviewed?”

A few minutes later he was shown into a shabby room with three other occupants, Johnston, a police constable, and the Duty Solicitor Marcus Freeman, an ethically challenged silvertail in a pin-stripe suit whom Simon knew from a case in Sydney some years before. He sat down opposite Johnston, who was looking decidedly the worse for wear.

“You realise you’re in serious shit, Gareth. Sergeant Blake is dead, and I want some good reasons why you shouldn’t be charged as an accessory to his murder.”

Johnston squirmed in his seat, and ran his hand nervously over his two-day old stubble. “It wasn’t me that shot him. It was that crazy Ukrainian bastard.”

“I thought he was a mate of yours.”

“He was no bloody mate of mine, I can tell you. Salim rang me a few weeks ago and asked if I wanted to earn a few bucks. If I’d known what Kyrylo was like I woulda said no.”

“So what was he like, Gareth?”

Johnston shot a glance at Freeman, who shrugged unhelpfully.

“We was ‘sposed to copy all the numbers off the credit cards I got off the customers.”

“And?”

“The first day, I didn’t know ‘e wanted the codes on the backs of the cards as well as the numbers and expiry dates. When I told ‘im he hadn’t asked for them, he head butted me, and told me if I didn’t get ‘em the next day he’d put me in hospital. The bloke was mental.” He raised a lock of unkempt hair in his forehead to reveal an ugly red weal, already going brown and yellow around the edges.

“So you supplied the card information and he made up the copies?”

“Yeh. From the stuff that me and Salim gave ‘im.”

“And who bought all the TVs?”

“We did… Had to get the stuff real quick before the cards got stopped.”

“How did you get rid of it?”

“Salim had a mate who ran a market stall.”

“Not the best place to sell a $3000 plasma TV.”

“He’d shift all the small stuff like the iPhones. Any stuff he couldn’t handle would get sold on to someone else.”

“What else did Kyrylo do? Apart from make counterfeit cards.”

“He played around on that laptop a lot. I don’t know what he was doing, I don’t know much about computers.”

“But you must’ve seen what he was up to?”

“He played that cartoon game a lot. What’s it called? The one with the avatars.”

“Avataria?”

“Yeh. He’d get on to it in the afternoons, after three usually. We couldn’t talk to ‘im then. He didn’t want to be disturbed.”

“Did he ever make any long distance phone calls?’

“Not that I know of. He was paranoid about us making phone calls. Told us never to mention ‘is name, and to keep them as short as possible.”

Simon told the Duty Solicitor that he was leaving. Johnston paused the audio recording and stood up.  Simon inclined his head towards the door and followed him into the corridor.

“Keep up the pressure on them about what Kyrylo was doing with the laptop,” he said. “I don’t hold out much hope. I’ve got a feeling he kept ‘em out of the loop – they’re not exactly the sharpest knives in the drawer – but anything they give us could be helpful.”

The sergeant nodded and returned to the interviewing room. Simon retrieved the laptop from the evidence store and headed back to Canberra.

Filed Under: Art, Australian News, User-generated, Virtual Worlds Tagged With: ,

Little Johnny’s at it again

August 17, 2009 by Leave a Comment

Little Johnny’s at it again….. A new teacher was trying to make use of her psychology courses. She started her class by saying, ‘Everyone who thinks they’re stupid, stand up!’ After a few seconds, Little Johnny stood up. The teacher said, ‘Do you think you’re stupid, Little Johnny?’ ‘No, ma’am, but I hate to see you standing there all by yourself!’

* * * * * * * * * * *

Little Johnny watched, fascinated, as his mother smoothed cold cream on her face. ‘Why do you do that, mummy?’ he asked. ‘To make myself beautiful,’ said his mother, who then began removing the cream with a tissue. ‘What’s the matter?’ asked Little Johnny. ‘Giving up?’

* * * * * * * * * * *

The maths teacher saw that little Johnny wasn’t paying attention in class. She called on him and said,
‘Johnny! What are 2 and 4 and 28 and 44?’ Little Johnny quickly replied, ‘NBC, FOX, ESPN and the Cartoon Network!’

* * * * * * * * * * *

Little Johnny’s kindergarten class was on a field trip to their local police station where they saw pictures tacked to a bulletin board of the 10 most wanted criminals. One of the youngsters pointed to a picture and asked if it really was the photo of a wanted person. ‘Yes,’ said the policeman ‘The detectives want very badly to capture him.’Little Johnny asked, ‘Why didn’t you keep him when you took his picture ?’

* * * * * * * * * * *

Little Johnny attended a horse auction with his father. He watched as his father moved from horse to horse, running his hands up and down the horse’s legs and rump, and chest. After a few minutes, Johnny asked, ‘Dad, why are you doing that?’ His father replied, ‘Because when I’m buying horses,I have to make sure that they are healthy and in good shape before I buy. Johnny, looking worried, said, ‘Dad, I think the phone technician guy wants to buy Mum .’

Filed Under: Email Joke Graveyard, Kids

Idiots of 2008

August 12, 2009 by Leave a Comment

Number One Idiot of 2008.

I am a medical student currently doing a rotation in toxicology at the poison control centre in our local Hospital.. Today, this woman called in very upset because she caught her little
daughter eating ants. I quickly reassured her that the ants are not harmful and there would be no need to bring her daughter into the hospital. She calmed down and at the end of the conversation happened to mention that she gave her daughter some ant poison to eat in order to kill the ants.. I told her that she better bring her daughter into the emergency room right away…

Number Two Idiot of 2008.

Early this year, some Boeing employees on the airfield decided to steal a life raft from one of the 747s. They were successful in getting it out
of the plane and home. Shortly after they took it for a float on the river, they noticed a Rescue Helicopter coming towards them.. It turned out that the chopper was homing in on the emergency locator beacon that activated when the raft was inflated.. They are no longer employed at Boeing or any other airline for that matter.

Number Three Idiot of 2008.

A man, wanting to rob a Bank A , walked into the Branch and wrote ‘Put all your muny in this bag.’ While standing in line, waiting to give his note to the teller, he began to worry that someone had seen him write the note and might call the police before he reached the teller’s window.. So he left the Bank and crossed the street to the Bank B.. After waiting a few minutes in line, he handed his note to the teller She read it and, surmising from his spelling errors that he wasn’t the brightest light in the harbour, told him that she could not accept his stickup note because it was written on a Bank A deposit slip and that he would either, have to fill out a Bank B deposit slip or go back to Bank A .. Looking somewhat defeated, the man said, ‘OK’ and left.. He was arrested a few minutes later, as he was waiting in line back at Bank A.

Number Four Idiot of 2008.

A guy walked into a little town corner store with a shotgun and demanded all of the cash from the cash drawer.. After the cashier put the cash in a bag, the robber saw a bottle of Scotch that he wanted behind the counter on the shelf.. He told the cashier to put it in the bag as well, but the cashier refused and said, ‘Because I don’t believe you are over 21.’ The robber said he was, but the clerk still refused to give it to him because she didn’t believe him.. At this point, the robber took his driver’s licence out of his
wallet and gave it to the clerk.. The clerk looked it over and agreed that the man was in fact over 21 and she put the Scotch in the bag… The robber then ran from the store with
his loot.. The cashier promptly called the police and gave the name and address of the robber that she got off the licence. They arrested the robber two hours later…

Number Five Idiot of 2008

A pair of robbers entered a record shop nervously waving revolvers.. The first one shouted, ‘Nobody move!’ When his partner moved, the startled first bandit shot him..

Number Six Idiot of 2008.

Seems this guy wanted some beer pretty badly.. He decided that he’d just throw a brick through a liquor store window, grab some booze, and run.. So he lifted the brick and heaved it over his head at the window.. The brick bounced back knocking him unconscious. It seems the liquor store window was made of Flexi-Glass… The whole event was caught on
videotape…

IDIOTS IN FOOD SERVICE:

My daughter went to a local McDonalds and ordered a burger.. She asked the person behind the counter for ‘minimal lettuce.’ He said he was sorry, but they only had iceberg..

IDIOT SIGHTING:

I was at the airport, checking in at the gate when an airport employee asked, ”Has anyone put anything in your baggage without your knowledge?? To which I replied, ‘If it was without my knowledge, how would I know??’ He smiled knowingly and nodded, ‘That’s why we ask.’

JUST AN IDIOT :

When my husband and I arrived at a car dealers to pick up our car, we were told the keys had been locked in it.. We went to the service department and found a mechanic working feverishly to unlock the drivers side door.. As I watched from the passenger side, I instinctively tried the door handle and discovered that it was unlocked. ‘Hey,’ I announced to the technician, ‘its open!’ His reply, ‘I know – I already got that side.’

Filed Under: Email Joke Graveyard, General humor

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