… spun away from the camera, tires smoking. But eventually she’d find her way back to us as stomachs keep rumbling and babies keep crying.
This is still a place to be.
00510517 (Valentine)
Tamala staring directly at us and wondering if we’ll ever get back to her home planet. Soon.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0517, Planet Q, RDR2
00510516
“Silver?” I exclaimed about the name he just uttered. Like my band. At least temporarily, until Okama Majo returns from being sick on pill. Poor guy. 5 night gig I knew, then back on the streets, back to facing the threat of abject poverty.
“Yes, Silver as in Frankie, Silver as in Charlie… Charles. First white woman in North Carolina to be executed, murder being the crime that fit the punishment, eye to eye style. As your ape-like human civilization has a penchant for,” the banana being before me continued. “Yet she claimed her husband deserved it as he abused her and threatened her own life. Many in the Burke County community where she lived backed her story. Yet only one made it back to a final resting spot on home soil queerly near by but not in Silver Chapel (Cemetery) in Bandana — like me! Instead: the smaller Silver Cemetery in Kona a little over 2 miles away. Will you help me parse out this tangle of Silvers throw in Silver Lake as well and find out what went wrong? Can you help me find… Justice?”
“Down Holy Hero Street and take a left at the courthouse,” I wanted to joke but held my tongue. Which made me think of the statue at the end of Justice facing the courthouse. Seemingly credited to a Depraved Monkey’s Club [sic: Den] if I remember correctly. Is this humanity as a whole? Will the aliens who may be the same as AI allow us to continue in this way?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0516, Bandanaboro, California, Mythopolis, North Carolina, Omega
00510514
“We had to move far away from you brother-son because we had to heal ourselves. We’ll see each other later.”
“I… understand?”
“Sure you do,” they continued speaking with one mouth as two heads, this John Raphael and Chip Sampson Emerald Elephants Eagles amalgamation originally located directly under the trestle bridge at Edwardston, Wazob, Mythos. But there was also more than 2 here, I realized. Something about blue on top of green.
“I… caused the damage?”
“In part,” they answered honestly. It could all be pinned on me, I realized. That was part of the damage. Collateral, I suppose. Like civilian deaths in a (fish) war that never should have occurred.
“Where… *are* you?”
They showed me a planet.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0514, Freya III, Indigo Parallel, Jemison, Mythopolis, Schrodinger VIIIa, Starfield, Wazob
00510513 (squares)
https://bakerbloch.wordpress.com/2015/02/12/22431/
Hucka D.:
You move away from the tetraptych, true, but images collide more in meaningful ways here, although you’ll return to the multi-panel works soon enough. Now you noticed the *Achilles heel*.
bb:
Yes. The Achilles heel of the boy. And this relates to Achilles, Virginia and Lady and Glass there and a particular story from “Winesburg, Ohio”, also highlighted by Faherty’s “The Ordained”. The blue-green horse emerges from the hole, like a cave on its side. The cyan or blue-green horse is Eoc, Hucka D.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0513, Jerrymap, Mythopolis
00510512
I was promised a personal favorite Jack in the Box but instead received Pizza in what was suppose to be a climactic ending point for the King and Queen line of eating establishments facing west. Tired of burgers and ice cream, I finally caved in and got over my grudge with them in a situation that really wasn’t their doing and gave Luigi’s a call at 11:00 on September 11, PM not AM. I couldn’t afford morning food by this time. Ordered the house special banana, attracted by the low cost and also, a bit, the potential exotic flavor. Never had that topping before, hmm. Imagine my surprise when it didn’t come with the pizza but instead showed up several minutes later at my door all anthropomorphized and shite. “You’re late!” I decided to jest at this uncanny intersection of Meat and Fruit.
Thoughts of slicing him up then and there and putting him on my pizza to close the raw deal I felt I got were quickly set aside as he turned out to be quite the intelligent yellow dude with a strange tale to tell indeed. Settling back on the couch he eventually wandered over to, it began thusly:
“I had to divide off from the rest of your meal in order to gain a mouth, eyes, brain. The house special was just a ruse to get you to order me, here, now. We know that you are poor, perhaps abjectly so.”
“Banana… split?” I said, still not quite over the slicing inclination and eyeing the case of knives on the counter out of the corner of my eye.
“Precisely. I know you think we’re just bananas, me and all my associates, but when we bunch together we become larger than ourselves individually. I am the end product of that transmutation.”
“Just… bananas?” I uttered in a similar vein, stuck in idiom mode. I imagined them altogether in a darkened room conspiring to drive me nuts in the end. I had to avoid that conclusion. I edge closer to the counter, clandestinely select the largest one to get the deed done quickly.
“We hope to make you think otherwise,” and it is here he introduced himself properly and it is here I decided not to end his life with a cut cut cut.
“I am more than Banana now, the sum of my parts,” he declared proudly, sitting up straighter on the couch in front of me and even seeming to grow larger with the action but maybe that was just my perspective. “I am *Band*ana, a whole band of entities.”
“Like the borough?” I say. “Like the borough we’re in?” I followed, waving all around with my free hand.
“Precisely.” I put back down the knife behind my back. Being in a borough band myself, I had to hear this out. tbc
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0512, Bandanaboro, Omega
00510511
It was the end of us, I knew. End of the band; start of an 8-5 or 9-5 job under a boss who cared not one lick about music or its benefits to society. Creativity *murdered*. 666. How to avoid?
—–
“That’s really beautiful, Frank. Spongeberg #5, you say?”
“Fresh off the printer and into our home. Middle C middle C middle C,” he chants, a thing that got him through the ultra-complex piece. He had to remember that the composer had a plan, an endpoint. Wasn’t writing down notes by the seat of his pants. I heard recently that creativity without outline is just noise. Planners not Panters, at least for the chromagraphs. Spongeberg had the process down.
Everyone seemed to be enjoying it! Wall to wall fun for the 12, 13, 14 people who attended (pheh).
—–
The manager shows up with his wad of empty Money, choice looming. Keep living day to day, meal to meal, bill to unpaid bill, or escape the threat of abject poverty and enjoy the benefits of health insurance, college ed for the kids, so on. He hands me his card (see top).
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0511, Bandanaboro, Omega
00510510 (dancing in pink near Bandana NC)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0510, Bandanaboro, Google Street View, North Carolina
00510509 (before Jerry)
“No, that didn’t happen,” she said. “She went into the Head, true, but not down into the Body through the gullet, let’s say. No harmful pills in stomach. Got a degree in nursing instead. Or biology. Learned about what to put down there from the direction up top. Smart. Very smart.”
“But there’s always the flip side to a life gone quote unquote good. She worked her way down the food pipe. She got involved in childbirth, or worse, dancing. Dancing the pink away. She forgot all about the head. She couldn’t find her way back. Only one way out after that. One with the children.”
“She had 2 kids and their eyes were blue,” Daisy adjusted.
“3 kids,” Frank says. “All green.” tbc?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0509, Bandanaboro, HANA LEI, Omega
Sunklands 