What?

1> While Ejing for REZON8, his corporate sponsor who?s running advertising peppers the screen with future ads and public health warnings, fashion shoot spreads and information boxes, ALADDIN is distracted by the FOXY, M-MDMA bodyscent of a gorgeous dancer, and, his senses hooked, is lured to the toilets into a passionate encounter with the preternaturally hypnotic faery raver, MAB. ALADDIN kicks in his illegal neuroware and upgrades his consciousness from the lower somatic circuits to higher brain function, channeling the sexual energy into tantric chi that opens up his chakra pathways. MAB films and uploads the sexcapade to TERRA.NET as part of the rival club, NU BRITANNIA?s brand bombing ad campaign as ALADDIN falls unconscious into the urinal.

2> ALADDIN exits ambient mode and starts autocoding his experiences for his weblog on his website. He?s in a VR photoshoot, building a market identity with REZON8 and plans to brand out once he hits the big time with his music. He walks the streets of Soho and goes to a basement club, DIGI-WARHOL?s, where the transexual door bitch, a Greek S&M queen in a Mexican wrestling mask chats him up. He goes inside the bar, an Arabian server farm where people jack in to surveillence cam footage and file trade experiences and memories. ALADDIN jacks the OLD FAME NETWORK, people who were famous before everybody became famous, before two ape-steroid abusing Arab goons, MOHAMMED and ACHMED drag him out of cyberspace to meet his ?uncle?, his content-manager and brand consultant.

3> Thrown through the door to the kitchen, ALADDIN meets CHARLIE BROWN FADHIR, who threatens him with the knife and to cut his balls off if he screws around with his corporate sponsor again. MAB?s busted his brand image, he tells him. All that work promoting REZON8 on the streets and in the clubs and now NU BRITANNIA have his dick in the till. ALADDIN shares some coke with him before hitting the bar where everyone?s talking about him. APU, the Rasta bartender tells him all publicity is good publicity. ALADDIN hits on APU for some neuroware chips and he jacks in to the global TERRA.NET data tsunami, losing himself in it.

4> ALADDIN arrives at NU BRITANNIA uberclub in Islington, a last bastion of old world mythology ? faeries and druids and Britannia glamour mixed with Transhumanist technology interfacing punk crowd. ALADDIN?s watching the dancers in their liquid audio suits morphing to the music as MAB, as club hostess, catches him and confronts him, the passion still smouldering between them. They kiss in a booth as ALADDIN cracks her wireless encyrption and hacks all her carefully built brand data, erasing it all as he seduces her. She retaliates with her BAD FAERIES promoter crew, tough as nails punk technologists surrounded by dark, sketchy emotion holos.

5> ALADDIN?s fighting the BAD FAERIES out on the dancefloor amongst the crowd, practising his unique Eastern blend of reiki holographic lightwork and Ahimsa ? non violent dynamic non-harmlessness ? like holo karate on the dancefloor. MAB explodes in a shower of sparks as her holo gear blows, revealing her real form beneath, still crying out for love. The NATO POLS bust the club in a search for illegal neuroware and illegal refugees and ALADIN is arrested along with the others.

6> ALADDIN?s getting out of the local nick in Kings Cross, past the disintegrating backdrop of post globalisation London, flooded with refugees and in class war uprising. He?s walking home to Camden, above a pub on St.Pancras Way. It?s a SLEEPERZ unit, a HIVE of Japanese VR pod units. Only a couple of metres long and wide, the inhabitants plug into VR simulations of comfort and wealth, downloading pay-per-use digital goods that have to be replaced by keeping your credit good. He?s earned enough promoting REZON8 to go on-line and on TERRA.NET, enjoying the rich digital world of the rich in their virtual environments for as long as the money holds out. It?s a virtual rave from all over the world, united by the music. And the beatz make your feet dance to the music.