Mall Meadows was a confluence point between human or humanoid toy avatars, mossmen, and bees. Perhaps others. The huge mall there was famous for its 5 shot lattes. Depression still there.
“We sent an Uncle Joe and an Aunt Zoe to the bees to find out why they ticked. Bombs away, we said, laughing. They didn’t know what hit them. This is Joe the Rock. Solid.”
“What about Cleveland?” I asked. “Cleveland Rocks. Do you draw? Did you drew?”
A stuttered reply came: “The Presidents… of the United States… of America.” He continued: “Rocks bark. Bark at a rock. Bark at rocks. Drew. Cleveland. Rocks.”
“Obvious that Rock, the toy avatar, sat on Rock, and probably for numerous times and long times.” I melded one with the other in me mind.
—–
“Rock’s Sinclair became Mr. Blue Skies or Blue Skies Mr., way up in the sky with his mass of white, tangly hair like wispy, clumped clouds. Like Baker Bloch and Baker Blinker and the King and Queen saw up in the sky in Rockley. And Hucka Doobie as well.”
“You need to write this god in the sky,” came the mystery entity’s reply. Across space. Across time.
—–
“Humans invited bees to come live in Greenhead amongst them, or nearby at least. Mall Meadows was a great gathering place. Mossmen crawled out of Red Head, bees came from Greenhead. The humans from Whitehead. A Great Party. Mmm’s? Marbles?”
“So why did Joe Flo Zoe Mo plug up the bee’s hole at Greenhead?” he then ask, staring at me with his blue blue eyes so deep. Krakatoa.
“The sealing affected the whole dimensional aspect,” came my reply. “The Bees were cut off from Green River and its centering Mammoth Cave. Allen Knob Kentucky was not an option now.”
—–
http://bakerblinker.wordpress.com/2011/11/21/the-2-allen-knobs-and-green-branchgreen-river/
There is a battle shaping up for control of future rock temples/land art between Dongoba and Whitehead Crossing. Who will win? My personal guess is that there will be no losers in this contest. It’s all just meaningful nonsense in a box canyon, thanks to that Roostre fellow/dude.
“Turns out this is coming true just now, Mystery Person.”
“Call me Blue. Mr. Blue. Mr Blue Skies. Blue Skies Mr. Blue wins out, yes.”
“So you really are a type of God for the Whitehead Crossing region.”
“Yes,” came the reply. He was a type of God.
Sunklands 