16 June 2010, 9.45 p.m.
Little Twilight said:
I don’t know, you guys. Some of what he writes makes sense. Maybe we can reason with him. Maybe it’s not too late.
16 June 2010, 10.58 p.m.
Wilde Diabolito said:
Well thanks for your votes of disapproval, Sparrow and Panda. You reveal your own lack of fortitude. No loss there. And Little Twilight, aspiring vamp, I thank you for your small support.
16 June 2010, 11.03 p.m.
Precinct Angel said:
I have been lurking here without commenting and reading your blog, Wilde, and I must say your thinking, although flawed, is not without its strong points. The overriding and obvious error is clearly that you think you are a moral being and that your wife an irrevocably immoral one. You have already proclaimed sentence on her, just as a government would proclaim capital punishment for an act of first-degree murder. What you are proposing is self-justified, premeditated execution. Why have you not allowed her to reform? Yours is not just hypocrisy—it is an illness. You are a sick, sick man.
17 June 2010, 1.23 a.m.
Wilde Diabolito said:
Precinct Angel, I do not need any other person to tell me what is moral and immoral. I know the difference, as does my young wife. She clearly believes, however, that she can break the ancient rules of fidelity, trust and loyalty. She does not realise how much I believe in action and honour. She should never have abused my generosity, siphoned off a lot of my wealth to her siblings and grasping widow of a mother. But that is another story, and I have closed that account. Let me throw down the cyber gauntlet to you or anyone: I will commit my crime within five days and will prove without a doubt online that my One is not honest with me and can never be so, because she is lascivious and rapacious by nature.
* * *
‘THE COWARD DOES IT WITH A KISS’
17 JUNE 2010
Blog Readers and Lurkers, here is your chance to play Judas and kiss my cyber cheek. If you can, reveal me to the authorities. That is my challenge to any one of you. Precinct Angel seems up for the task. All right, we will see who else is willing to face me in this cyberworld. As this medium is no less real to the millions who spend as much time online today as they do in their physical towns and cities, I give you an invitation to play.
First—a rapid round up of the past year or so of our life together. I was forced to become familiar with the Internet as a tool of investigation. My wife, as I mentioned, spent nearly all her free time online. It was always her hobby, I guess, but she had become more secretive about it. She had taken over Baby’s room and had turned it into her private boudoir-study, enrolling (she said) for some online degree in Social Communications from a community college in the USA. (Yes, we are not living in that country.) She also said she had to do online tuition at odd hours. I had seen the printed assignments, but the online tuition part was not listed on their website curriculum, except for special subjects outside the scope of her degree, which was mostly coursework by e-mail. Yes, I quietly checked into it all.
A few nights back, while she went out to dinner, I logged on to her computer. Looking for clues for any obvious liaison she might be having, I went directly to her e-mail inbox. There was some correspondence from Camberway College, but nothing that aroused any suspicion and I admit to feeling some surprise. Then, I checked her MSN chat portal and chat logs and found them all largely to be local girlfriend talk. I was puzzled. I scanned her documents and picture files. Nothing. Then I searched the desktop, opening the icons one by one until I clicked on one like two conjoined heads looking in opposite directions. It was the Janus symbol, though I doubt that many would know the Roman mythological significance: how the symbol was inscribed in doorways, on gates looking both to past or future, the all-seeing eye on safe passage through portals to other universes. It immediately opened to the application browser of Double Life (DL), the online 3-D community.
As fate or luck would have it, I had a little knowledge of DL. It’s an online networking playground where identities or ‘avatars’ form friendships, even work, marry, live in virtual houses and go about virtual lives with all the fun and social adventure limited only by the imagination. I had read some article about this in our local papers and even seen a TV programme on this site.
In the bottom window of the browser were spaces for a first name ID login: ‘Indigo’ was written there and in the second slot was a strange word: ‘Wishpool’, then a place for a password. I tried it. The password registered. Although I could not read the asterisks representing the seven letters of the secret word, I saw Indigo materialise from a cloud of vibrating particles, taking shape as a naked grey female form to someone dressed in the most extraordinary, slinky red dress. Her breasts were full, her lips and hips tantalisingly ample and her features not of my race—she was clearly Caucasian. The voluptuous cut of her dress rode straight up to hip, exposing in perfect 3-D a sensuous line of tanned leg reeking of invitation. This avatar was of middle height, not short and slim like my real life wife. This is how she clearly desired herself, standing in the middle of a luxurious apartment. On each 3-D wall, there were erotic paintings. If you clicked on them, two intertwined figures began to gyrate in sexual coition. There were virtual statues of semi-transparent nudes, both male and female, facing each other.
I moved my cursor, accidentally walking through one. The male figure with a large erect phallus grabbed at my virtual 3-D female body as a voice spoke, saying. ‘Come on, baby, be my fuck buddy.’ But there was nobody here. It was all just sexual fantasy furniture, like the lounge suite shaped in the form of a giant sideways penis. Meanwhile, I perused her DL inventory files and discovered her ID details, who were her DL ‘Friends’ and the places she spent time in. The name of this place was ‘My Nest’. By the look of her Signposts’ History log, I could see this was a very familiar place. Perhaps even her online ‘home’. After quickly reading up on the DL User Guide, I realised that to be associated with someone here, you had to become their ‘Friend’. Somehow, I had to ‘meet’ her online and get her to add me to her Friends list. Only then could I begin to have regular association with her.
Meanwhile, I e-mailed all her Friends, Signposts and Groups to my own e-mail; then, suddenly a chat window opened from an online Friend:
Lance Pumason: You’re back. I thought you said you were having a ‘sex-free’ day today, resting up for the big weekend. Hey, I’ve just lined up ten customers and they want a group rate!
He was clearly her pimp. I was dumbstruck. My fingers on the keyboard began to shake, my eyes popped open and my head was making ready to explode. She who refused me, saying she was beyond sex and relationships, here she was clearly involved in a dirty world of cyber prostitution! Was she, in fact, earning real money for this? I had noted that in DL, people ran businesses, sold cyber merchandise, offered services, etc. Was this how she was becoming financially separate from me, buying all those expensive shoes and handbags now stored in Baby’s room? I wanted to tear apart the room.
Then I remembered her threat of dragging me to court. It would obviously be on the grounds of violent abuse. How could any judge not believe a pitiful-looking young woman over an old baldy like me? They might drag up my service record and cite that case twenty years back, when I once lost control and struck a young officer.
Smashing up the computer and room would certainly make it easier for her to file a case against me. It was difficult to hold in this frustration and anger. All I could think of was cutting her up into small pieces and throwing her remains down the rubbish shoot of my apartment block, but my crisis training finally kicked in. I took a breath and calmed down. This would not do. This would ruin my good standing. I had not served in the military to be demoted like this by a good-for-nothing cyber whore.
Lance Pumason: What’s wrong, honey? Is your old creepy husband around? Can’t talk? Anyway, see you this weekend. Bye.
I kept a grip as these last words punched up on
to the chat window. It was a stroke of luck. The strategist in me remembered how in the history of battles, there’s always an element of uncertainty—the way the wind blew up a storm in the face of the Spanish Armada, or the fateful course of that stray arrow that lodged in the eye of King Harold at the Battle of Hastings, opening an era of Norman conquest. I immediately knew that Lance Pumason was going to be my way to get to Indigo. I was not yet ready for a direct confrontation online or off.
It was time for me to go offline, so I hit the Quit button. I had gained valuable information and felt quietly jubilant. Wilde Diabolito had become his own private investigator.
posted by Wilde Diabolito at 10 a.m.
* * *
‘THE BRAVE MAN WITH A SWORD’
18 JUNE 2010
Now my purpose is plain and honest: with these same cutting words, I will do battle on Double Life, a world made of language and ideas encoded into 3-D images. Thus, I proclaim again today, that this blog is mightier than the threat of a police break in through my door, or pistol pointed at my head and set of stainless cufflinks manacling me from behind. You have no chance of finding out about the real me, even in this real life country where the law enforcement officers are all dressed in dark blue-black. (Another clue, Blog Sleuth.)
Yet, do not discount the fact that I am a collector of actual razor sharp weapons, from the claymore to the battle-axe, or the scimitar to the famous samurai blade. These and other works of sword artisanship I keep locked up in three constructed, polished cedar cabinets in my own study. Sometimes I simply take out a sword at random just to feel its primal power fill my veins. Yes, a sword has a voice and soul, and it can be heard and must be obeyed at the right moment. A sword is the symbol of a man’s honour.
Thus, when I went to my glassed-in office in what shall remain an unnamed grey building with high fences and security cameras around it, I was armed with a new power. I set my profile and password and entered Double Life. As time is of the essence now, I will summarise some of my experiences on becoming a DL resident. There is some learning curve in the beginning. One must master a new set of minimalist mouse skills, just as one must know how to hold the shorter samurai, the length of a forearm used in a small combat zone like a traditional Japanese house with paper walls.
It took me some weeks to become fully conversant with the style and manners of the place. First, I had to choose a body, a skin to match the identity of Wilde Diabolito. I developed My Form with the application function buttons choosing the ‘male sexy body type’ and dressed myself in white collared shirt with a long gothic black coat and grey trousers, leaving my hair rakishly long in memory of Oscar. In addition, I tried on a feminine avatar form. After all, my name was sufficiently androgynous to pass as a woman if and when required. I dressed my feminine self in a blue short skirt, white top, short hair and then gave myself green eyes. With a little fumbling, I was able to move forward, back, turn left and right, but knew little of what to do here and where to go.
The interesting thing about playing with masks, Blog Sleuths, is that one assumes something of the identity you are pretending to be. Not sure of what to do and where to go, I would see other figures materialising from white glowing clouds of swirling energy particles. From ethereal brown forms, their actual DL identities would come into being—male and female, human and sometimes strange and playfully fantastical or demonic. I was soon surrounded by an interesting group, all with strange hybrid names like Ripple Platonic, Hermione Seagull, Anton Uranis, Gorgi Mansong, Liptonia Gryphondale, or more recognisably derivative names like Smooth Operator, Moonlight Sonata, Happy Toknowya, Hope Eternalia and so forth.
There were others who I began to chat with like Butter Aphrodite, who I soon learned spoke broken English and was from Saudi Arabia. I was able to ask her in my female avatar form whether she wore a full, head to toe burqa or the head scarf in her real life. She said, yes, hijab. This could mean not just a scarf, but also being fully covered up. She had three ‘sisters’—wives who were all married to the same very rich oil man who was strictly orthodox in public and made them wear the full black dress with eye-slit whenever they went to the shopping mall, one of the few places they could move about freely. ‘What did she do most of her time in DL?’ I asked.
‘Shopping,’ she wrote in her chat window and added ‘LOL.’ She also wrote that she loved it here because she could do much more and meet people—‘Guys especially-smile-’. The best thing, she added, was that she felt free because everyone’s cyber body was, in fact, a kind of hijab, cloaking inner identity, so she felt truly equal for the first time. It was interesting to learn this from her and I later reflected upon how much sexual identity switching was going on here as people played out secret fantasies. It was with this ID firmly logged in that I embarked on my first DL adventure.
posted by Wilde Diabolito at 12.12 p.m.
* * *
‘SOME LOVE TOO LITTLE, SOME TOO LONG’
19 JUNE 2010
It was time to move in on Indigo Wishpool. I was soon able to fly to many of the intricate regions of the Double Life map. I kept the particular locations I wanted to return to in my Signposts folder and began to familiarise myself with the vast shopping malls, accumulating woman’s dresses and male apparel, meeting different people along the way. It was an especially strange experience role-playing as a female, as I had to take on feminine mannerisms and ward off male advances. I had also joined the Groups that Indigo and Lance Pumason were members of and went to some of their favourite hang out places to prepare myself for eventual contact. Yes, I was ready to put my battle plan into action.
posted by Wilde Diabolito at 10.36 p.m.
4 Comments >>
19 June 2010, 11.23 p.m.
Way of the Panda said:
You know nothing about yogis in caves, levitation or walking through world walls. You are a fake, Wilde.
20 June 2010, 12.07 a.m.
Wilde Diabolito said:
You are absolutely right, Panda. And by the way, welcome back.
20 June 2010, 12.17 a.m.
Precinct Angel said:
I see you.
20 June 2010, 1.03 a.m.
Wilde Diabolito said:
Good for you Precinct. As for the rest of you Blog commentators: Thank you for visiting my modest web page. I am gratified. However, I apologise but from now on, I will not be able to publish or respond to your comments. There are just too many coming daily. I did not know The Murder Blog would become so popular; my humble chronicle is becoming a small sensation on the Internet. Stay tuned. The day of reckoning is at hand!
‘SOME SELL, AND OTHERS BUY’
20 JUNE 2010
I knew it would be easier to make contact with Indigo through Pumason, so I tracked him down to one of his favourite haunts, ‘The Garden of Beastiality’. The garden was out the back of a sex shop selling animated sex toys. Like many of the shopping and other environments, appropriate music or sound-scapes played on in the background. Here was a taped recording of a bondage game with a man whipping a screaming woman. He was saying, ‘Oh, you like that, don’t you, baby. Yeah, squirm, you dirty little whore’, followed by more screaming.
I descended a long set of stairs into the garden where there were ‘rides’ and sex-animation animals like sheep and zebra women waiting to be penetrated and to penetrate. It was a popular place and the public chat was busy, mostly male locker room talk. And there, standing and watching voyeuristically, was Lance Pumason. I sensed that he was here shopping for customers to engage in private sex parties so I came up to him and opened a private chat.
Wilde: Hi there, Lance.
Lance: Hey!
Wilde: Interesting goings on.
Lance: Yep.
Wilde: To be honest, I’m not too much into the sheep and zebras.
Lance: No? What do you like?
Wilde: Nothing with animals.
Lance: Boys or girls?
Wilde: What do you take me for?
&nb
sp; Lance: Hey man, it’s all here in Double Life. Anything you want.
Wilde: Women. Strictly women. I don’t swing.
Lance: Sure, I’m like you. I’m a ladies man.
Wilde: So far, I haven’t really found any.
Lance: What?
Wilde: Women who … are ready to …
Lance: Hey, they’re everywhere. Maybe you’re not looking in the right places.
Wilde: What do you mean?
Lance: Well, you need to use your charm and personality.
Wilde: Afraid I’m rather new at all this.
Lance: Oh I see … Look, maybe I can help.
Wilde: Help?
Lance: Help you get started …
Wilde: What do you mean?
Lance: Well, I have this … working girlfriend if you know what I mean. She’s very friendly. Can teach you some girl tricks and also do you at the same time.
Wilde: You mean a prostitute?
Lance: Instructress. A special girl. Helps guys find their dicks in DL, so to speak.
Wilde: I see.
Lance: Yes, and she’s sexy. You get fully simulated audio chat sex with or without voice modulators. 120 different sex animation positions, and my girl will talk you right through it all. By the end, you’ll be so relaxed, you’ll be able to chat up even the keyhole of a locked door. Women will fall for you like flies.
Wilde: Just say I was interested—how much would all this cost me?
Lance: Well, it’s a specialised service and there is a queue. She’s very popular. Perhaps tomorrow, I can squeeze you in. A small party. It would only cost 3,500 DL dollars.
Wilde: That’s a lot.
Lance: Well, she is the best around here. Look, I’m prepared to give you a special—a one-on-one with her for another twenty-five minutes if you like. No extra charge.
I was silent.
Crime Scene: Singapore Page 9
