Wednesday, May 9, 2007

Teleportation Security Administration

Written 30 April, 2007

Teleportation Security Administration

Until now, I’ve held my peace about Bush in this blog. The reason I’m finally venting is because the U.S. government has just announced its intention to monitor teleportation activity in Second Life.

The Bush White House is claiming jurisdiction because Linden Lab is headquartered in San Francisco, which is technically a part of the United States.

This morning Condi Rice announced the formation of the Teleportation Security Administration.

The TSA will be modeled after the OTHER TSA—the Transportation Security Administration. Those are the people who make the world safe for democracy by taking away your shampoo and perfume at airports and making you take off your shoes.

But Condi tells us the new TSA will be friendlier than the old TSA. Why? Because of Teleport Tom.

Teleport Tom will replace the much-maligned color coding and duct-tape-your-windows advisories of the Rumsfeld era.

“Teleport Tom is happy.”

“Teleport Tom is sad.”

“Teleport Tom is dialing 911.”

Teleport Tom has not yet been cast, but rumors are he’ll be played by the adopted son of advertising icons Speedy Alka-Seltzer and Poppin’ Fresh.


Anyone who has flown commercially since 2001 knows the joy of dealing with the Transportation Security Administration.


“Did you pack your bags yourself? Have they been out of your sight at any time?”

“Step through the scanner, please.”

“I need you to take your computer out of the case.”

“Please come with us for a full body cavity search.”


It will be much worse in Second Life.

Sweetie and I were talking about just how bad it will be. We were laughing on the phone as we thought up additional TSA hassles. We’re so bad.

In fact, this blog should be credited to her as much as me. Except the George W. part. That’s me entirely.

So, the TSA in Second Life:

Them: Will you please take off your Xcite! ass and put it in the tub? One Xcite! part per tub.

Xcite! Ass: Beads of sweat are starting to form on Cheyenne Palisades’ skin.

You: Could you please try not to handle it so much?


Them: We’re going to have to hand scan those prim breasts. They won’t fit through the machine. Will you come this way, please?

You: What a hassle! I already had to buy extra seats for them. One seat per breast. This trip is costing me an effing fortune!


Them: You’re not going to be able to teleport today. You’re on the Watch list.

You: Whatever for?

Them: Did you or did you not post a blog critical of the President?”


Them: This passport is invalid.

You: It can’t be!

Them: Are you arguing with the government of the United States? If you are, there’s a cell in a secret CIA prison in a badly-decorated Gorean dungeon sim waiting for you.

You: I know it’s valid.

Them: According to our records, there is no independent nation-state of Pele.


“This airport is now in condition red. We have an unattended .5 x .5 x .5 plywood prim in the terminal. We need a chemical sniffer script at Gate 19 immediately. "


“Folks, listen up! You’ll need to take off all your gadgets or you’ll set off the alarm when you go through security, and you know what that means! That means all jewelry, HUDs, and flight feathers. What? Yes, your sexy walk, too. No, your hair can stay on, unless it has barrettes, clasps, or other ornaments. Tattoos can stay on. You there with the personal hugger. Off it comes! And Miss, that flexi skirt will never fit through the scanner. "


"Sir, you’ll need to stow your huge prim hat in an overhead bin or underneath the seat in front of you.”


"I’m sorry, ma’am, but for safety reasons we can’t let you board with that shoulder dragon attached.”

The TSA could be helpful on the back end of the teleportation process, though—especially if you suffer one of those dreadful TP accidents. Just imagine:
Them: Please bend over, Ms. Palisades. Our highly trained and efficient staff will be happy to help you pull your shoes and hairdo out of your ass.


In fact, the whole teleportation-commercial flying analogy may explain why some TPs fail:

“We’re sorry, but for no apparent reason your teleport has been cancelled.”

“In today’s news, a failed simulator in the Chicago area has resulted in hundreds of cancelled or delayed teleports all up and down the East Coast."

“This is the Captain. Please fasten your seat belts. We’re expecting a bit of lag.”

“This is the Captain again. We’re experiencing some minor mechanical difficulties—just a gauge; it does not, repeat NOT have anything to do with the landing gear—and will need to return to the Snowcrash Regional Airport.”

(You just have to wonder—if the problem IS with the landing gear, why return to the point of departure? You can crash just as easily at the destination airport.)

“Captain Linden again. It seems we flew over a full parcel and our low-prim Boeing 767 was dematerialized. Our stewardesses—all played by males, incidentally—will help you sort out your luggage.” (mumble, mumble, mumble) “Oh, it seems the luggage was dematerialized as well. Odds are you’ll find your luggage in the Lost and Found folder in your inventory. Delta Teleport Lines and Linden Lab are not, repeat not, responsible for inventory loss. Thank you for teleporting Delta.”


Teleportation is about to become very difficult.


Sans said...

Hahaha, great post! TY!

Kacy Despres said...

Oh my god Chey, I am laughing so hard it hurts *wipes away the tears* Thank you for making my afternoon! :)

Cheyenne Palisades said...

Tanks so much.

I credit Sweetie with the best lines.