Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fiction. Show all posts

Monday, October 24, 2022

Clumsy Cooper's Halloween Tale

 
By Bixyl Shuftan 

It seemed like a simple enough job.

It wasn't like he was going hungry or needed a place to stay. Since falling asleep in a railroad car somewhere in the Deathlands and somehow waking up in this place of high tech called Montecito Bay, Melvin Cooper had been able to make a few bucks here and there doing simple service jobs. And after running into "The Moff," who while no longer the Mayor was the city's most popular resident and still had plenty of influence, he'd gotten a tiny but comfortable apartment he could stay in for a short time for practically nothing until he could get other accommodations. 
 
But something, wasn't right. He was a little tired of microwaved meals every night, with only the occasional dish at a ramen stall for freshly-made food, and he wasn't making enough money to get snazzy clothing and pay for a hot car to pick up women. But there was, something else. There were tales of some megacorporation moving in with more in mind than just making a few dollars, but saw the city as a base of operations for some secret plans. Maybe it was simply getting around some rules and regulations to save a few bucks, or maybe it was for something far more sinister.

He'd been approached by some mystery figure, saying he was a friend of Moff and a "concerned citizen" who had the means to stop these characters if they were up to no good, but only if he had evidence. And since Melvin Cooper had some experience of being a "liberator of assets," perhaps he could uncover something, "I'll make it well worth your while if you discover something of value. Don't bother getting a second opinion from Moff. To make sure he doesn't get in trouble, he is not in the know."
 
So it would seem his old skills would come in handy once more, saving the city and making a few dollars for himself. He snuck into the corporate quarter after hours, despite the curfew that was enforced by a few private guards. And despite that it was the night of October 31, which gave him a few willies. He brought a few donuts to them, saying he had run an errand and left his phone in the area. So they let him in. Looking around, he saw a robot, some kind of drone hovering just over the ground, moving some crates. Maybe they might hold something? He waited until it was gone, then made a move on one of the crates. Thankfully it was light. He would take it to some corner and open it ...

"Halt! You are not authorized to transit that object!" 

Melvin turned, and there was another drone, heading at him. He'd been discovered! He turned tail and ran! The thing fired a taser at him, and missed.

"Alert! Unauthorized personnel, Sector C! Alert! Unauthorized personnel ..."

Melvin ran and ran. It shouldn't be *too* long before he'd be back out of the corporate sector. But he kept hearing a whirring mechanical sound behind him. He turned, and the drone was still after him! Spurred on my adrenaline, he ran even faster. But the machine kept after him.

How was he going to get away? There had to be something. He then thought he saw a shadow ...
 
Then the next thing he heard was a crash of some kind. He turned, and the done was now smashed against the wall. In the middle of the alley was a huge wolf, almost twice his height, and without clothes. A werewolf?

"The boss told me you might need a hand, so I dropped in. What did you find?"

Still fueled by adrenaline and fright, Melvin didn't find relief in the wolf, only fear. He looked for a place to hide. He ducked into an alley, and in some out of the way shop saw a car of some kind, an odd silvery one. He ran over, opened the door, which opened not out but up, and jumped in. Then the next thing he knew, he heard the engine started, the car started to hover, and the next thing he knew, it was zooming out of the shop, with hover-engines. 
 
He had to give the vehicle's steering wheel a hard left to keep from running into the wall. It then began rising in the air, and increasing speed fast. He looked over the controls. He noticed two dates on the control panel, and saw two dates, one marked "Destination." It was on October 31, 1899. What did that mean? Glancing again at the speed, it was going past 60, 70, 80 ... and at 88 miles an hour, there was a flash in the air ...

The next thing he knew was a brief sensation of falling, then landing in some bushes. Groaning a bit, he got up and looked around. Instead of neon lights, glass, and steel, he saw streetlamps, brick walkways, and brick and wood buildings. This was somewhere else, but where. Eventually, he saw a sign, "Caledon."

He recalled reading the place was a major community in the Victorian Era. Melvin had somehow ended up in the Steam Age!

He was wondering about his next move. Then he thought he heard a scream. He ran a short distance, then saw two humans, a woman dressed in what looked like a second-hand dress. The other was some man dressed all in black, with a cloak over his back and a dagger in his hand. He had the woman by the wrist, and the dagger pointed at her.
 
"Please, let me go!"

"You wretch! I'll finish you off here and now!"

Realizing what the man was up to, Melvin forgot about his fear. Instead, he picked up a rock, and threw it at the dark man. It hit him in the head, causing him to let go of the girl, who promptly wrenched her hand free and ran off. The figure then turned to face him, with piercing dark brown eyes, almost as black as his clothes, "I don't know who you are, but that was your last mistake." He then began advancing at Clumsy.

Clumsy's reaction was to retreat, but not run. With all the iron fencing around here, maybe there was a loose bar he could use as a makeshift weapon. Then a shape zoomed down from the sky. Melvin could only make out that it was black, with wings. It charged at the man in black, who turned tail and ran. He ducked into an alley, and the whatever-it-was flew after him. Melvin thought he heard a male scream and some kind of scuffle, then silence. 

The ex-burglar decided discretion was the better part of valor and quickly headed away. But not knowing this town well, he wasn't sure where to go. While on the move, he thought he saw a few policemen running his way. Deciding to hide, he ducked into a wooded park. After well, inside, he was having second thoughts as the place was dark and spooky. Just the right place for something to ambush ...

His thoughts were interrupted by a sound, he turned, and something pounced him, wrapping him up in dark wings. There was a strong musky scent from it, and the smell of blood. Melvin, almost freaked, then to his surprise the dark figure kissed him. It was then he noticed it's feminine shape and bosom. It was a vampire batgirl of some kind, dark red and black.

"I wasn't sure I could help that woman in time," she told him in a raspy but still female voice, "I smell a good deal of recent fear on you, but you put that aside and helped her. Oh, and if you're wondering, the Ripper is still alive. I simply flew over to a constable I know and told him. Well, after having a pint or two first.

"But, I also smell, sadness? loneliness? Aw, poor little hero." The batgirl seemed to smile, "I'll stay with you tonight."

Melvin got very nervous. While he wanted the company of a woman very much, he wasn't so sure about a scary vampire batgirl. She almost seemed to sense his fear, giggling and nuzzling him.as thoughts of bloodsuckers from movies raced though his mind. Then he felt her licking his neck. That was too much, and he fainted.

Eventually he came to. He found himself not on the ground of some spooky wooded park, but sandy ground next to some rusty jeep. He got up and looked around. He was back in the Deathlands. 

Had it all been some kind of dream? Melvin sighed. At least in Montecito Bay, he had a soft and clean place to shower and sleep and didn't have to worry about going hungry, or at least not too hungry. Now it was back to catching rats and drinking brackish water. 

He looked the jeep over. While rusty, it looked like it had been recently running. He had vague memories of tinkering with a few vehicles he found to see if he could get one running with parts from the others. But it seems something blew, and the car toppled, knocking him out. 

He was pondering his next move, when he saw a couple things on the ground. One was a jug of water, about a couple gallons. The other was a small water purifier. There was a wadded paper tucked into a slot on it. Looking at it, these were simple instructions. This could purify unsafe water, salt, germs, even radioactivity. 

Melvin wasn't sure how he had come across this purifier. But in the wasteland, it would certainly be very useful. At least he had somehow come out ahead. He recalled where he had set some traps, and began walking to them. Fried rat wasn't the tastiest thing to eat, but at least he wouldn't be hungry. 

*  *  *  *  *

"Are you sure we should have left him there, Doc?"

"We didn't have a choice, Marty. That would be taking a chance with breaking the space-time continuum."

"But to leave him in the middle of a desert?"

"That was where he stowed on the steam machine. We did leave him with a little water, and something that will help with water in his future."

"Yeah, but still ..."

"I took a trip a few years into the future after that. He'll be okay. A few scares along the way, but eventually he'll be back in civilization, eventually." 

To be continued

Bixyl Shuftan

Sunday, June 23, 2013

Breezes Thoughts: "Twas an Old Lady ..."


'Twas a old lady, lived in a shoe.  She needed something to do.

She decide to untie that shoe. Grinning excitedly, she left that old shoe hearing sounds far away she ventured off to see what she could get into. Oohhhhh, yes  what did she find? 

A land of olden times, full of  warpainted Indians chanting away, smoke signals floating thru the sky. In amazement and such curious thoughts ran thru her mind. 

She knew she was different and dressed all wrong, looking around to discover what could she do.  Finding a strange looking abode, abandoned for some reason. She ventured in and saw a beautiful deerskin that would fix her needs. Slipping it on, it felt so nice and soft. Fringes swirling round her legs, she began to see young and free, being as how her skin was sunburnt and resembling the others that she had seen from far off.

She nodded to herself, pulled out the old fashioned bun of hair atop her head, her long tressing falling about and down her back. She spotted some red berries, smashing them finely  and rubbing the color onto her face, she knew she was ready to go amongst this land and discover sights she never knew existed.

The story will continue as this adventure unfolds, 

Breezes Babii

Friday, January 18, 2013

SL Newser Reporter Breaks into Published Fiction with "Ginny"

By Grey Lupindo
          Long-time SL resident and SL Newser reporter Grease Coakes just published his first book, Ginny Griffin's First Day of School.  Grease is traveling around SL as a pink avi to promote its publication and the brave little girl who is the protagonist.   We met early one morning at my home on Syzygy to discuss the book and Grease’s publishing journey.
Ginny Griffin’s First Day of School is about Ginny Griffin, a third grader who moves with her parents to Spoonville, a totally furry world.  Because she’s the “new kid” and doesn’t know anyone, she's scared to go to the new school.   “But Ginny certainly has an exciting first day of school,” Grease explained.  “It's not a run of the mill day.”   The little griffin learns bravery as she goes up against incredible odds, although Grease wouldn’t reveal what specific hazards she encounters.    Those revelations would spoil the book for readers.     
While this is his first published book, Grease has been writing for many years.   “I remember as kid I wrote some and read a lot,” he said.    He has also been writing and publishing a lot in SL, both as a reporter and on other projects.    As we discussed his book, it became obvious to me that Ginny Griffin wasn’t the only one who faced incredible odds and triumphed.   Here is part of the interview that I conducted with Grease. 
Grey Lupindo:    Is this a book for young readers or one for parents to read to children?
Grease Coakes:  At 18 pages, I would think that children could read to themselves.  Or perhaps adults could read it to their little ones.  Or, adults could read it themselves for kicks.  Adults might relate to Ginny's struggle with their first day at a new school. 
Grey Lupindo: How did you get the idea for Ginny's story?
Grease Coakes: I always thought it was neat looking at those Richard Scary stories.
Grey Lupindo:   Oh, yes.  I remember those.
Grease Coakes:  So I thought, wouldn't it be neat to write a story with similar characters?   I associate pink with girls so I made Ginny pink.  Her mother is pink, too.  So it's in her family.”
Grey Lupindo: Yes, very appropriate.  ....  Is this your first children's book?
Grease Coakes: Yes, but I have written other stories.  A lot of them aren't meant for children. 
(At this point I see Grease smiling.)
Grease Coakes: I sell myself at tail sales for furries to use my writing services for less savory themes.
Grey Lupindo:  Oh...well...moving right along....What surprised you the most about the process of writing a children's book?
Grease Coakes:  It was a lot harder than I thought to get it published AND hard to look around for an artist to draw the cover picture. ... I knew a publisher via her phone number found off a website. She was supportive and helpful, but in the end she told me she would not publish my story.
Grey Lupindo: It's very hard to publish, especially in the last few years.
Grease Coakes: Yeah, it is.  Plus I had to keep editing and changing it as I got feedback from my friends.  So I've been working this story since my inception in SL, which is what... 5 1/2 years now.
Grey Lupindo:   Did you do the cover?
Grease Coakes:   Oh, goodness no! I can't draw worth a booger.   Perri Prinz told me about her friend Lampie.   I looked over her website and her pricing.   I think her artwork is simple and colorful, but also very professional and neat.
Grey Lupindo:   You said you received feedback from friends.  Were young readers among those friends?
Grease Coakes: No, this came from an old friend in SL. She read it over and hated the ending so I re-wrote it altogether.  I showed it to other friends, and they liked it.  But I think they were biased in my favor....   This friend was honest saying this won't work.
Grey Lupindo: The original ending?
Grease Coakes: Yeah.  I ended the book too easy, with not a lot of conflict.   This time I made it more exciting and more believable.
Grey Lupindo: Ah, yes. It's hard to make your characters suffer.
Grease Coakes: But also my characters have to grow.   I mean as a child just doing what your parents tell you is suffering.  Or being pushed around by the school bully.  No one person lives a carefree life.   Life doesn't work that way.
Grey Lupindo: Is there any bullying in this story? That seems to be such a hot issue right now.
Grease Coakes: There could be.
Grey Lupindo:  Is there anything else that you want readers to know about your book or the writing process?
Grease Coakes:  All I can say is, if you believe in yourself and apply yourself, anything is possible.  If you keep at it. I mean I could have just given up when someone didn't draw my picture for me after I paid in Lindens.
Grey Lupindo: Did that happen?
Grease Coakes:  Yes, it did.  And when I IM’d her, she gave me a rude response.
Grey Lupindo: How terrible!
Grease Coakes: I said the hell with this.   Let me look for someone else.  Luckily when I ran into Lampie, she was very professional and very swift.
Grey Lupindo:  Who is the publisher? How can people buy your book?
Grease Coakes:  That's easy.  They can go to http://www.lulu.com/shop/john-krauss/ginny-grffins-first-day-of-school/paperback/product-20635273.html    I have the link in my picks, too.
          Ginny Griffin's First Day of School is available from Lulu Press for $12.00 U.S.    


Grey Lupindo

Sunday, February 26, 2012

Creative Fiction: Second Life’s TV Commercial

Originally written and published in Spring 2010 under Second Life Newspaper, this was my attempt at Second-Life inspired fiction. These were the days of M Linden. For those not familiar, he the second CEO of Linden Labs noted for his apparent disconnect from the wants of the residents of Second Life and a number of questionable moves on his watch. In this story, M Linden is interested in television advertising to pick up numbers, and an aide gives him two proposed commercials.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“So what do you have?”

“Well, Sir, our agency went through a number of commercial ideas, and selected two different ones to do commercials on. We decided to leave it up to you which of them to air, or perhaps both if both are to your liking.”

“Or we could ask you to start over.”

“Um, of course, Sir. Anyway, we heard there was a dispute between your staff about which direction to take in marketing your virtual world. Do you try to appeal to a select audience, saying Second Life is a special environment that is only for those looking for more creativity other places online offer? Or do you say Second Life is so big and so diverse, you have a little something for everyone with a computer?”

“I believe your job is to create commercials, not make decisions on issues limited to management.”

“Er, well, Sir, in any event, these two commercials each market a different point. I will go ahead and play them for you, and hopefully they will meet your approval.”

“We shall see.”

A TV screen in the room came on, and then appeared a caption, with a narrator speaking the line as well.

“You could join a Massive Multiplayer Online Game, with everyone.”

The scene then switched to an animated figure in medieval armor, sword and shield, fighting a ferocious looking beast. It’s a tough fight, and the health bar of the fighter is getting low. Finally the beast cries out and collapses. The scene then changes to the player, “Whew! That was close. ... Aw darn, only fifty experience points. Man, I hate grinding.”

Another scene comes of, of a dwarven figure picking at a rock with a pickaxe. After a few seconds, it changed again to a frustrated gamer, “C’mon, c’mon ... Finally! Just seven thousand one hundred, and twenty one more addimantium ores before I level up. Only a dozen more levels before I can finally mine unobtainium!”

The screen switches to the man talking into his computer, “Hey guys, who wants to make a dungeon run?” “Sorry dude, you’re too low level for me.” “I only go on Level 200 runs.” “Beat it, newb!”

The scene changes again, a man dresses in financial Medieval garb, going down a road. All of a sudden, a shadowy figure leaps out, there’s a flash of a blade, and the first figure collapses. The scene changes to a surprised player, “What the, one shot?” And from the computer there’s laughter, “LOL! I haxxor yur gamez. I pwned U, nub!!”

Another scene comes up, a team of players is gathered around the body of a dragon. The man behind the computer types, “Whew! It was tough going, but we did it. I’ll bet you guys never faced anything like this at the office.” But the comments get confused remarks, “Office? I’m in 8th grade.” “7th for me.” “Dude! You’re old!”

The screen goes dark again, and comes a caption, with the narrator speaking again, “Or you could go to Second Life.”

The scene changes to a handsome-looking, though plainly dressed female avatar walking through a door, and into a well detailed club, with bright lights, crystalline structures, and a few dozen avatars either dancing in the middle, or socializing closer to the new visitor, mostly human, but also a few nekos and a single furred, all well dressed. A few notice the new arrival, and wave at her, “Hi!” “Welcome.”

The screen then shows the woman outside a store, cutting to her inside and looking among a wide variety of dresses, on both mannequins and signs. Split second shots show her in a variety of fashions, from punkish, to high-class elegant, to ready for a night on the town. Her next stop, a scenic beach, which shows her at one point riding a jet ski, cutting to flying a hang glider alongside a flock of birds over a lush forrest, to surfing a big wave.

The scene cuts to a party, in which the lady is happily dancing at a club to some music. She stops, and walks to the wall, where there’s a sign saying “DJs wanted - will train.” The next scene then shows her in the DJ booth, operating the controls, and the audience emoting, “I love this tune - whoo-hoo!”, with her tip jar radiating dollar signs.

The next scene is after the party is over, it shows her making adjustments to the DJ table, slightly higher in places. Then she’s in a sandbox, building furniture. Following that is a store with her face on the sign, with “Grand Opening” underneath, and furniture inside. The next scene shows her on a stand, designing dresses. Following that is the store with several of her designs, a number of women looking and shopping. This is soon followed by a fashion show, with models going down the runway. Then comes a scene in front of an audience with her and another lady sitting on chairs on stage, with what look like TV cameras pointed at them, and a screen showing the two of them, “Tonight, we look at the woman recently voted by Metanomics as ‘Second Life’s Newcomer Entrepreneur of the Year ... “

The screen then goes black, and captions appear again, “You can go to an online game with everybody, and be a noob. Or, you can go to Second Life, a place where those whom are exceptional can go limited only by what they want to do.”

“Second Life: Not for everybody.”

The screen then faded, “And that’s our first commercial.”

“Hmmm. Not bad, though it seems instead of a broader audience, we would be appealing to a niche market.”

“Perhaps, Sir. It seems no matter what we do, numbers of people turn away. They’re confused by not being given clearly defined goals, or they confuse virtual worlds with games and don’t see a point if there’s nothing to kill. With that in mind, we did this commercial. That it focuses on a woman character was a deliberate decision. Although Second LIfe has no shortage of female users, forty percent compared to the twenty percent of World of Warcraft, there’s still room for improvement..”

“Hmmm. So, the second commercial is more about mass appeal?”

“Yes, Sir. The theme is ‘a little something for everyone,’ appealing to peoples’ varying tastes. We had a little fun with it at segments, appealing to humor. Perhaps low humor, but - “

“Can you please just play it?”

“Oh, pardon me Sir. Here you go.”

The screen was black, with the following caption appearing, with the narrator speaking the words, “People are different, and are interested in different things.”

Another caption appears, “The apartment-dwelling nature lover.”

The scene changes to a blonde lady in plain-looking clothes talking to the camera, “I’ve always loved walking around nature, but with my job I need to live in the city, and the park is so far away.”

The screen changes back to black, and up comes another caption, “The veteran.”

A middle-aged man wearing a POW shirt and with thinning hair is now the speaker, “I like getting in touch with my buddies from the Army, talk about Iraq and other old times. But we can meet up only so often, and while there’s chat rooms, I wish there was a way to see them.”

The screen goes black again, and the caption is now, “The science-fiction/fantasy fan.”

A dark-haired lady wearing glasses and dressed as if working in an office appears, “I’ve always had a love for sci-fi and fantasy, not just the adventure, but also seeing new worlds and peoples. Movies and books are great, but I wish there was something more.”

Once again, the screen goes black and comes a new caption, “The world traveler.”

The person now facing the camera is a man in a business suit, “I’ve always liked traveling about and seeing the world, the monuments, the different cities and cultures. But I have only so many vacation days a year, not to mention limited cash.”

Again, the screen blackens, and comes still another caption, “The average 18 year old male.”

The person shown is a young man with rumpled clothes and hair, and a few acne spots, “Boooooooooobs.”

The screen blackens again, with a new set of captions and narration, “Different people with different wants. Yet they all go to the first place to meet them.”

“Second Life.”

The scenery that appears is a blonde lady avatar walking around in a virtual forrest, the underbrush lush with flowers. The voice from the nature lover speaks, “Oh wow! It’s just like being there.” A scene change then shows her riding a horse. Then comes a scene of her hang-gliding over the treetops. This is followed by her underwater, swimming in a skin-diving suit with bubbles floating to the surface while looking at a coral reef, “So cool!”

The scene changes again, and a group of men and a few women are sitting in a circle, some in uniform, others in T-shirts & jeans or denim vests and jeans. Speaks the voice of the Veteran, “I’m really happy to be here with you guys.” The scene changes to the men reflecting in front of a solid black wall with names, and flowers and flags at the bottom: The Vietnam Wall, “Here, we can truly reflect better than in a chat room.”

The scene switches to an avatar much like that of the dark haired woman on a posing stand. It goes through a few changes. The first is just clothing, to skimpy fantasy armor. Then the avatar changes to a slender lady elven form in a silken dress, then an athletic-looking but still feminine orc fighter wearing just leather shorts and a top, then an anthro skunk in shorts and a short blouse. The woman’s voice is heard, “Hey, I can look like just about anything here!” The scene then changes to the skunkgirl wearing a jumpsuit and wielding a lightsaber, swinging it at a robot and cutting it to pieces. Then comes a scene in which a six inch catboy avatar is sitting on the skunkgirl’s shoulder, and the camera panning out a little shows her on the shoulder of a fifty-foot macro catgirl, “It’s just like walking into a book here.”

The scene changes to a well-dressed male avatar, walking in a city square with sizable and detailed fountains, “I don’t believe it. They got all this in a computer?” The scene changes to the man looking at the Statue of Liberty, then the Eiffel Tower, then the Mayan Pyramids, “This is great. I can just look around here until one day when I can afford to see it for real.”

Then comes a scene of a seedy looking girly bar, with rap music playing, and over a dozen male avatars ogling at a few scantily-clad females twisting and moving around dancepoles. The camera focuses on one punkish-looking male in the bunch, staring at one girl dancer as she moves and bends down to him, as if to give him a closer look of her front. Then comes the voice of the young man, “Boooooooooobs.”

The screen goes black, and comes a caption with the narrator speaking, “Second Life: Something for Everyone.”

“Well, there you are Sir. That part with the kid we debated whether to include or not, so we decided to run with it, and see what you thought. If you like this commercial, we could easily delete than part.”

“No, do not get rid of that. This is what we need.”

“Excellent Sir. I’ll contact the stations that expressed interest in airing an advertisement, and - “

“No, that’s not what I meant. Could you do a commercial focusing more on the 18 year olds and what they like?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Second Life really needs to tap into the young adult market, and so far we’ve been lagging behind. We need to make stronger appeals to them, and nothing sells to them quite like sex.”

“Um, Sir, haven’t we been trying to get away from the perception that Second Life is about little but sex and populated by mostly perverse men? We were just having a little fun with it, and including there was much more.”

“Yes, but for some time our numbers, both in revenue and users, have stagnated, even declined. We need a fresh approach to bring people in, and young adults are the key market.”

“Sir, you do realize that if what you’re proposing hurts our reputation, it will take quite some time, perhaps years, to undo the damage?”

“Don’t give me that! You do your job, and I’ll do mine! I’ve made my decision!”

“(sigh) Yes, Sir, I’ll have work done on a commercial focusing more on the, adult, side of Second Life.”

“Excellent. We’ll feature various places in Zinrda. Maybe work with the pornographic studios. I can just see the business world talking about our new numbers.”

“I just hope we don’t end up making boobs out of ourselves.”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

M Linden was shown the door not long after this story first aired, so whatever ideas he had for TV advertising went away. But if you could, what TV commercial would you do for Second Life?

Source: Second Life Newspaper

Bixyl Shuftan

Saturday, November 20, 2010

Real Memories Brought to Virtual Life

A swirling vortex of textures, colors and shapes danced before him, teasing him with a semblance of order and familiarity, before morphing once again into a jumbled mass of code in search of form. “Still rezzing,” a familiar voice reassured him, “give it a minute.”

Slowly, the spectrum of visualizations began making sense. First a house…then a yard…a dog in the backyard slowly came into focus. “I hate this lag!” He shouted, but did not type. Something though became oddly familiar to him; the station wagon in the driveway, the open wheat field across the street, standing sentinel between the neighborhood and the major interstate visible a half mile away. Then, like an unprepared boxer taking one full force to the gut, it hit him. He spoke underneath his breath, not sure who he was asking, “I’m home?”

“I know this house. It’s...my…home.” His voiced trailed off. He’s sat unmoving – stunned - as if having seen and felt a ghost of a long dead friend brushing past him, disbelieving with his mind what was obvious to his eyes. The entire neighborhood – the one he grew up in - slowly materializing in front of him, with the clarity and detail of a high-resolution perfectly preserved digital image, but with life, movement and increasing emotion.

His boyhood friends, calling his name, riding their bikes in the street in front of the lower-middle class home in which he, his younger brother and three sisters grew up. Details long ago forgotten appeared exactly as he had once known them to be; the untrimmed hedge in front of his bedroom window, the large red-painted wooden fence at the side of the house that he would often rappel from; the shed, rusty and near collapse in the backyard slowly squeaking at the suggestion of each lovely summer’s breeze, and the majestic Pecan tree, towering over the home of his childhood - exactly…exactly, as it was years ago. “But, it’s impossible,” he whispers. “Welcome home, John. It’s good to see you again,” his older sister’s comforting voice again came through his earphones. He shuddered with emotion.

-BREAK-

She continued to sob violently in front of her laptop screen. A torrent of salty tears spilling across her face. Her husband rushed across the room towards her, expecting to find some horrific detail in an email from her sister, or something so utterly and globally tragic in the news that would cause this kind of devastating emotional reaction from his wife. He wasn’t expecting what he saw on her screen. He stared…in disbelief. Seconds passed, then he uttered, “Turn it off.” “Baby, just turn it off…”

“No! Don’t touch it!” her shaking voice shattering the stillness of their quiet evening, enough to wake the children. “It’s her!” “Oh my God, Allen…it’s Mom.” He saw it too, frozen at the sight of the frighteningly accurate and lifelike image of her mother, dead now 5 years, but…alive now, on the computer screen and looking directly at them. Shifting her gaze, as if with consciousness from her daughter to her son-in-law, and then back again; she stared past the computer screen, fixing her gaze upon her daughter. Her mother’s eyes now – as they always were - full of life, joy, glistening, blinking, looking with seemingly genuine emotion at her daughter, who continued to weep. “Jeannine… it’s me, Princess. It’s me…” the avatar whispered.

Across the globe, people are having very similar, emotionally charged experiences. The catalyst: The new Memory Augmented Reality Module (M.A.R.M.), which became available in the U.S. just one week ago. Available only through licensed online virtual communities, including SL, the units and related software sell for approximately $1,500 U.S. per unit. The experiences promised and delivered have been nothing short of stunning, surpassing the hype and advertising, pushing demand far beyond the ability to manufacture the units and creating a backlog estimated to reach at least 6 months into the future.

The advances in what is now commonly referred to as “mind mapping,” via the science of Neuroinformatics, has finally bridged the divide between human brain memory, processes and analytical thinking and the technology utilized to structure and operate virtual and augmented realities. The first consumer driven application, M.A.R.M., despite the surrounding ethical controversy, has been nothing short of a cataclysmic event in the evolution of the human brain and its fusion with today’s technology.

Linden Lab, the pioneer in this newly christened M.A.R.M. technology, has been beta testing the software and equipment for nearly 2 years. While all publicly released findings of the clinical trials demonstrate the technology as being “safe” for the general population, the emotional impact and experiences being reported by some of its users appears to have been grossly underestimated, and the duration of the emotional side effects, misjudged. Sales of the units were recently halted due to reports from across the county of users experiencing anxiety disorders, generalized depression and conditions replicating PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). These reports notwithstanding, demand for the units continues to grow almost exponentially, with backorders in the tens of thousands.

The most recent and tragic incident involved Seattle, WA resident, Nora Taylor, a 38 year old mother of three, who after completing the 24-hour mind mapping base-line process, began to utilize the M.A.R.M. device to recreate her childhood environments, friends and family. These simulations being made possible by importing the memory data mined, cataloged and translated into readable code into the SL data base, where a personalized region was then created based on these inputs.

The ensuing 36 hours for Nora Taylor can only be described as heartrending, as she rekindled old friendships, and reunited with relatives long since deceased, “losing herself,” as described by her husband, Jeff Taylor, “within the virtual recreation of her past life.” Upon returning from a business trip, finding their children uncared for and unfed, and his wife in a coma-like nirvana, Jeff promptly phoned 911 for emergency assistance. While the children have since fully recovered, sadly Nora Taylor died 2 days later while suffering from psychiatrically-induced catatonia.

Dr. Alred Russo with the National Institute of Mental Health, NIHM, stated that in extreme cases, involving already unstable, highly emotional or hypersensitive individuals, a real danger may in fact exist. “The virtual recreation of past real-life environments, and the sight of highly detailed recreations (avatars) of friends and family created via the improved 3-D imagery of SL, can be overpoweringly real, particularly when combined with the strength of real life memories and emotions.” He goes on, “The users’ brain can become so overwhelmed with sensory and emotional stimuli, that this virtual world and real life can become indistinguishable.”

Sales of M.A.R.M. products are expected to resume by next week – albeit with revised warnings and cautions. M.A.R.M. software and hardware may be purchased directly from Linden Lab, the official vendor of the M.A.R.M. Experience © in Second Life.

Latest version of Mind Mapping Hardware, M.A.R.M. ©


FoxM Ember

Sunday, October 3, 2010

SL Fiction: Walk Into the Water

He walked toward their beach house, the one he and Deborah had worked so hard to get. It was still hard to believe, after all the years of work, of saving and planning that they had finally made their dream a reality. The house on the beach, the 42 foot schooner moored to the dock, everything was perfect. Deborah, his true love and wife of 19 years, by his side, fulfilling everything he could have ever desired in a partner. He had never before been this content with his life. “Surfing,” he though to himself, “I think I’ll go surfing today.”

The sounds of the waves licking at the pier were in perfect sync with the gulls singing overhead. The breeze, out of the west, was soft and gentle on his face. He loved the smell of the salty air, it reminded him of family vacations at the coast when he was a child. But the coast where he and his parents would trek to during the hot Texas summers was nothing like this. Here, the sand wasn’t gray, but white, and delicate and pristine; the water not the sea green of the gulf, but a beautiful azure blue ocean, clear and crystalline.

He scooped his feet through the soft clean sand as he walked, relishing the sensations. He wanted the passing of time to freeze at this very moment, to seal and preserve forever this feeling, this moment, this wonderful sense of contentment. He would be happy to live in this moment and in this place for the rest of his life. “Heaven…this must be what Heaven is like,” he mused.

“Dad?” it was his daughter.

“Good Morning, Princess!”

Heather was almost 15 now, and had been begging to start driving lessons this summer, but the thought of her behind the wheel terrified him. In fact, the thought of driving period – had become unnerving to him. Maybe it was old age creeping in, or the increasingly dimming memory of hectic city driving, exchanged now for their life here on the island, where walking, biking and sailing were the only needed modes of transportation. The thought of Heather going away to college, and having to drive the treacherous highways, cars and trucks recklessly flying by and at her at breakneck speeds…he shivered.

“Princess, I’ve been thinking…about the driving lessons. I think, maybe, we should wait a little bit…maybe another year before…”

“Mom!” she shouted. “Why do we always have to remind him? Every time! It’s getting old.”

“Dad, walk into the water with me.” She waded out into the ocean defiantly, and then suddenly dropped under the surface.

“Heather!” He ran in, small explosions of foamy water flying out from under his feet, until she popped back up.

“Heather, that’s not funny! You scared the heck out of me.” They walked slowly back to shore, his arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“Dad, look.” she spoke softly now.

“What?” a smile returning to his face.

“Your pants, your shoes, your socks…see? See them? Geez.”

“Hey, I like these pants! And these are the shoes that…” he stopped.

“Dry? I’m…dry. But…”

Deborah’s voice broke into the growing awkward silence, “It’s the software glitch, Honey, we should have it fixed soon, I told you that already. You need to be patient, and stop shutting down at night like I told you. Now go get ready for school and let me talk with you dad.”

Deborah was now beside him, looking amazing. She always looked amazing. She was wearing a yellow sundress and sandals, and like the sun itself, radiated warmth and beauty from her hair, her eyes, her fingers. She was gorgeous, her long auburn hair waving gently with the ocean breeze. She rarely wore makeup or jewelry; she didn’t need it, and he loved that about her.

Still, after 19 years, there wasn’t a day that went by that he didn’t remind himself how lucky he was to have won her heart. He could have easily become one of those sad middle-aged men he used to see on business trips; unhappy with their spouse, pitifully and always unsuccessfully seeking illicit happiness with a waitress or a stranger in hotel lounges. They reminded him of desperate salmon, fighting the ruthless currents of time and reality, looking for a one night spawn.

“Software glitch…Deb, What are you talking about?” he chuckled, waiting for the joke.

“John, the upgrades should be available within a month or two, until then I’ll keep trying to make sure Heather doesn’t shut down at night unless…oh, wow, this is…” there was a disquieting despair creeping into her words. “I hate to keep having to tell you.”

“Tell me what? Deb, what is it?” his brow furrowed by his sincere confusion.

“John, once the upgrades come, you’ll be able to remember everything from the previous sessions. It’s just that, for now I have to tell you every…”

“Sessions? Deb, what’s going on? Where did Heather go? Tell me what?!” His frustration always seemed to reach a new high each time she went through this. It concerned her that it was beginning to turn to anger. She didn’t want Heather to see him like this, to spoil her memories of him.

“Heather had to sign out, she’ll be late for school again. She’ll be back online later.” she sighed.

“Deb…I don’t understand…”

“John…Baby, try to remember…the accident.”

“Accident?” his voice trembled.

“Yes, Baby. Six months ago. Try to remember, John. I hate this. They said that the AI interface-software-patch-thingy would fix this. What a waste of money. I should have just waited for the upgrade, but they said the patch would allow you uninterrupted access to the MARM data, without rebooting, but…

“Wait! MARM? The ‘MARM’ data? That was the mind and memory mapping program we did together in June. I…I remember. Memory, augmented…reality…module. MARM, that’s right isn’t it?”

“Good, baby. Yes, that’s right. That’s good. We did the baseline mind mapping together, the whole family. John…do you remember…the accident?” she waited.

“Rain,” he felt the blood drain from his face. “It was raining and I was late. The meeting in Portland,” his mind raced backwards. “I…I wanted to drive instead of flying. But…oh…” he felt sick. “God…please help me.”

“It’s OK, John. It’s over now.”

“No! I remember now, spinning out of control and…the truck, the semi…it was just there, in front of me, barreling at…me. Then…” he stopped as his mind replayed the sound of metal twisting, steel scraping against steel, glass shattering. He heard himself screaming, and then, the sickening smell of gasoline, of smoke, of intolerable heat, singeing his nostrils. He started to weep.

“I know baby. I know it’s hard, John, but it’s over now.”

“But,” he looked over his body; his perfect body, without scar, without blemish. He was lean and muscular and…perfect. “But, I…”

“John, your mind mapping data…your thoughts, your memories, your emotions…the essence of who you were…you’re still here. We created this sim, Heather and I, from the data you uploaded, so we could be together, and…”

“Were? I…I’m…” he stopped himself from saying the inevitable. Then silence. She knew it usually took him about 30 seconds from this point. She waited.

“I died? I’m dead? God, please help me…I died. This isn’t real? This isn’t real.”

“Baby, it is real. It is you. Don’t lose control, don’t let go of that thought, stay with me. John, everything that made you a person, everything that made you who you were is still here. You’re here. We can still be together.” she tried to reassure him, but she didn’t know what “being together” meant anymore.

“But, Deb, it’s not real, this isn’t real - none of it. The beach, our home…it’s…what is it…a simulation? This is all virtual…I’m not real…I’m…a program? I’m a damn software program?!”

“No. John it’s more than that, a lot more.”

“Dear God…help me.” his plea was desperate and sincere. Then, as if in answer, there was a sound, a cry…a baby.

“John, I’m so sorry, but I have to run. I have to get the baby ready, and my small group meeting at church is in 20 minutes, then I’m supposed to run over to see your mom, and..”

“Baby…our baby?”

“John, I can’t do this again now. We’ll talk later, ok? I’ll be home about three-thirty. We’ll do something fun. Hang gliding or dancing at that weird Jazz club you like.”

“But…we had our baby? I don’t…”

“John, I have to shut down the computer again. I’m so sorry, but the cleaning people will be here today, and I don’t want the computer on when they’re around. So, I need to shut down, ok?”

“Wait. Shut down? What happens when you shut down?” he felt all of his breath being sucked out of him, gasping for air, for clarity, for…hope. He was terrified.

“Nothing happens, Baby. Just sleep. Go to sleep, and we’ll be together before you know it.”

“Deborah…I love you.” he heard his voice crack under the strain.

“I love you too, John. I miss you so much.”

“But, I’m right here…right?”

“Sleep, Baby,” she whispered.

The tears started to flow down her face now, the salty pools already blurring her vision of him. She forced herself to reach for the mouse. She’d already learned to do it quickly. Not to listen at this point, to go into autopilot. She clicked START, SHUT DOWN. Open programs began to close, the sequence would only take 30 seconds.

“God, please help me,” he whispered. He closed his eyes and began to pray.


By FoxM Ember

Originaly printed in Second Life Newspaper

Saturday, September 25, 2010

SL Fiction: The MARM Mind-Mapping Software

News Journal: The advances in what is now commonly referred to as “mind mapping,” via the science of Neuroinformatics, has finally bridged the divide between human brain memory, processes and analytical thinking and thetechnology utilized to structure and operate virtual and augmented realities. The first consumer driven application, M.A.R.M., despite the surrounding ethical controversy, has been nothing short of a cataclysmic event in the evolution of the human brain and its fusion with today’s technology.

LL, the pioneer in this... newly christened M.A.R.M. technology, has been beta testing the software and equipment for nearly 2 years. While all publically released findings of the clinical trials demonstrate the technology as being “safe” for the general population, the emotional impact and experiences being reported by some of its users appears to have been grossly underestimated, and the duration of the emotional side effects, misjudged. Sales of the units were recently halted due to reports from across the county of users experiencing anxiety disorders, generalized depression and conditions replicating PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). These reports notwithstanding, demand for the units continues to grow almost exponentially, with backorders in the tens of thousands.

The most recent and tragic incident involved Seattle, WA resident, Nora Taylor, a 38 year old mother of three, who after completing the 24-hour mind mapping base-line process, began to utilize the M.A.R.M. device to recreate her childhood environments, friends and family. These simulations being made possible by importing the memory data mined, cataloged and translated into readable code into the SL data base, where a personalized region was then created based on these inputs.

The ensuing 36 hours for Nora Taylor can only be described as heartrending, as she rekindled old friendships, and reunited with relatives long since deceased, “losing herself,” as described by her husband, Jeff Taylor, “within the virtual recreation of her past life.” Upon returning from a business trip, finding their children uncared for and unfed, and his wife in a coma-like nirvana, Jeff promptly phoned 911 for emergency assistance. While the children have since fully recovered, sadly Nora Taylor died 2 days later while suffering from psychiatrically-induced catatonia.

Dr. Alred Russo with the National Institute of Mental Health, NIHM, stated that in extreme cases, involving already unstable, highly emotional or hypersensitive individuals, a real danger may in fact exist. “The virtual recreation of past real-life environments, and the sight of highly detailed recreations (avatars) of friends and family created via the improved 3-D imagery of SL, can be overpoweringly real, particularly when combined with the strength of real life memories and emotions.” He goes on, “The users’ brain can become so overwhelmed with sensory and emotional stimuli, that this virtual world and real life can become indistinguishable.”

Sales of M.A.R.M. products are expected to resume by next week – albeit with revised warnings and cautions. M.A.R.M. software and hardware may be purchased directly from LL, the official vendor of the M.A.R.M. Experience © in SL.

Latest version of Mind Mapping Hardware, M.A.R.M. ©


FoxM Ember
Originally posted in SL Newspaper