July 30, 2026 · 6:54 am

00510113 (reach)

“I’m scrapping the whole idea!” raged Biff Carter one night after a particularly bad rehearsal for the band. “I’m going to call us — heck — *Runnynose*. Because that’s what we are. A constant drip drip drip of annoyance threatening to dribble down my cheeks if I don’t stop it, PHEH. Where’s my hanky? I want to blow it all away!” He rubs his hand across his face and then picks up the loaded gun on the table beside him but then puts it back. No need to go down that road, he, thankfully, quickly realized. No more mowing down needed. Let tall grass stand. Weedy. Jennifer not Jenny. She lives! At least in his mind, in his dreams. He can also live with that for a while.

“Here,” consoling Shelley said from the side, replacing him in that role. “Take a hit from my white ass stick instead to cool you down.” And she leans over and kisses his cheek while handing it to him, a promise of things to come. At least for Biff. TBC

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July 30, 2026 · 5:49 am

00510112 (news)

Jennifer Lane had tragically been mowed down by a bulldozer, perhaps several of ’em. This is an archived photo.

“What are we going to do *now*?” I can hear ear of corn clad Karl bemoan from behind his drum kit in the back. “Everything *hinged* on her growing up and appearing before me and beside Chet over there, replacing his screeching, crow-like vocals with her now mature golden warblings, PHEH. Damn you Charles Anson!” Karl assumed it was long time nemesis and former band videographer Anson who was responsible for the mowing down but longer time band manager Biff Carter corrected him from the side.

“Wasn’t him,” he said plainly.

And why won’t *Chet* weigh in on this tragedy? He just stands there in his new Robo Santa costume to pair with Karl’s own corn related one, lead guitar hanging low off his neck.

—–

“Biff,” Shelley says from above, jiggling his shoulder. “Biff Wendell Carter,” she speaks his full name to fully bring him back to reality on the other side. “Band rehearsal in 5.” TBC

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July 29, 2026 · 7:23 am

00510111

He showed me the change. “The Jeogeot continent, before and after the addition of the 30 sims of the Korean Channel, logically reduced to 28 if you eliminate that little sticky outie place at the bottom composed of (sims) Darcy’s Harbour and Darcy’s Cove — although they have their own story to tell. More on that later perhaps.”

“Okay,” I said simply, readying for more.

“28 sims but beginning with 22 of possible 26 letters of the alphabet, far beyond chance I would confidently assume without checking the specific odds. Only 4 missing. I’m not sure it really matters which ones they are as much but just for the record it’s C, T, V, Y. So also for the record it *includes* the more exotic letters like Z, Q, X, J and K.”

“Right. I agree with you this is beyond chance. And… the connection with TILE?

“E is the last letter of the word TILE,” he said obviously enough. “I to E. I contains the little e that can be turned into the Big E — or Big Schwa if you’re looking from the other direction. That’s the key. It all becomes 3 dimensional now. We have a front and back of the thing. This is the great benefit of Big E/Big Schwa.”

“Got it. Sort of.”

“So when Spacecraft Andie stands before the 28 blue cubes representing the 28 blue sims of the Korean Channel and they wink out 1 by 1 by 1, that means the elimination of this channel, leaving a void again. We’re moving back into the past, before Jeogeot as we know it, perhaps before Our Second Lyfe as a whole but especially Jeogeot, the 3rd created continent. The number 3 is important here.”

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July 29, 2026 · 7:02 am

00510110

“There. That’s me in the middle, kicking classical things to the side again, going in a solid rock direction now. Black hair. Rainbow colors. You can’t disregard blue; it’s part of the rainbow too. That’s my message for you tonight. You have to include all colors, and you might as well capitalize that. ALL COLORS.”

That’s why Andie was colored differently in that one snapshot above, I realized. Thanks!

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July 28, 2026 · 1:48 pm

00510109 (serious fantasyland)

“I remember doing handsprings next to box springs and thinking: this ain’t right. I’m *caged*.”

“Andie?”

“Shelley now. But Andie should know. *Shouldn’t* know I meant there. Why we tagged her. Alteration later.”

“In the dark?”

“Let’s say, leave it in Colorado. Aand, we took care of the cage.”

—–

Karl wakes up in bed after a mysteriously induced sleep when he entered. Still dreaming of course. Because lining the walls of the damp dark cellar he sees this.

He fell into the 1st picture that caught his eye called “Accidental Exposure 02”. I believe several states are involved now; difficult to choose where he went. Working on it…

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July 28, 2026 · 7:37 am

00510108

“A search for *all* FENST geographic features in the GNIS national database of such only brings up 7 hits, including a Finstad Lake (lake) in MN with variant names of FENSTad Lake and FENSTed Lake, which is why it showed up on my list since I allow those. Notice this is found on a Picket Lake topographic map there, which piqued my interest because another name in this list starts with Fence: Fencemaker Canyon (valley) NV, also on a Fencemaker topo map and with a variant name of FENSTonmaker Canyon. Again, why it showed up in the list. Picket fence, then, see.”

“Picket fence, okay. Go on…”

“All this stemming from (the) FENSTar (sim) of the Big E/Big Schwa sitting before us.”

“I think I gathered that (already).”

“Cool. Soo, this led me to thinking about the old house I bought recently surrounded by this type of fence. Why I bought it actually.”

“*Before* the finding of Fence and Picket in that list,” I tried to clarify across from him, staring at the Schwa side as opposed to his E side. We were just that complementary.

“Correct. So that… leads to this.”

—–

Karl enters the old house to discover nothing inside except cobwebs and musky smells. But then circling around it he finds this. Cellar door. TBC

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July 27, 2026 · 9:22 pm

00510107

Picket fences usually go along with good things like moms and apple pie and blue skies but not in this case. GTA San Andreas’ Carl Karl approaches cautiously from below.

“When did that creepy old house get up there on the ridge, Newt?” now black haired Wheeler said over to her sometimes boyfriend, oft times husband on the swing with her. They were just that close, counterparts if not technically soulmates. Since the latter technically doesn’t exist if you’re thinking of things like 1/2 + 1/2 = 1. That’s why they don’t need to get married like Newt desired… again. But Wheeler still wanted to show him the front and the back of it all, just to get that out of the way and allow them to continue on with their virtual lives. Still together. Apart and together as one.

“I don’t know,” answered Newt, looking around the figure of Wheeler beside him to observe something else now. “But someone’s on the porch, about to go inside by the looks of it. Black man.”

“Black man,” echoes Wheeler. It’s as if it just appeared out of nowhere. Like Wheeler’s new hair. TBC

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July 25, 2026 · 1:55 pm

00510106

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Y3hUMuaTvk&t=22s

The Martians weren’t these ugly monster people. They were human beings and very advanced. We became so negative at the time that it was us attacking them. We warred on other planets.

“We met on a beach, remember?  Green waters not blue. Blue was not allowed here. Not after Zambolis.”

“I’m glad you said the Mythos equivalent of [delete name] and not [delete name] itself.”

“You’re welcome! We still work as a team.”

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July 24, 2026 · 12:53 pm

00510105

She approached the door from the right.

The 28 blue squares representing Jeogeot’s Korean Channel winked out 1 by 1 by 1 on the floor before her, leaving only red, yellow, green.

“Andie?” I call over the resulting black void. “Is that really you??” The hair and skin colors were a bit off from before but I knew this to be true.

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July 24, 2026 · 9:10 am

00500104

“In olden days it was known as Zambolis. Well. That wasn’t *exactly* true. It was Orient (as opposed to Occident) on a planet, a (defined) sphere, that kind of paralleled the world of Our Second Lyfe, correct.” We’d already established, long long ago, that this planet was called Mythos and was based upon my home county near but not in the NC Mtns. Close enough?

—–

“I got tired of hearing about soulmates from Kammie. I mean, we’re great *friends*, we get along remarkably well — all told, ha.”

“The Venus issue,” I guess again as Andie the foreign green or blue mid-sectioned alien kept speaking and explaining her position — positions. I’d speculated long ago what we were — but it’s more obviously what I’d call counterparts in my limited understanding of the cosmic subject. Like in Alabama.

“What is this Venus energy?” she said. I couldn’t tell if she was prompting me for an answer or if she already knew the answer. Because this was a sticking point. “Where did it all start?” she followed up.

Here. In Blue Mountain. Better get back to it.

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