Monthly Archives: May 2020

May 22, 2020 · 8:09 am

Pipersville

“Of course, Albert. She *belts* out tunes like no one and she does this at The Diamond owned by a Black (man). We must get in touch with this Jim A.; see what he knows about The Room. Something happened there, er, Alberta… sorry about the name before.”

“That is okay, sir,” Alberta the Selenite butler dutifully assured. “I am but a humble servant, ready to serve.”

“I think I’ll wear the Great Belt again — stare out at the tire.” He knew he could get additional insights this night. Energy was obviously strong here in Urqhart or thereabouts now that Collagesity had been manifested. So exciting! Green: so green here. No arid, desert-like surroundings to deal with any longer. He was *free*.

Alberta returned with the belt. “Here it is, sir. Do you…?”

“No. I can do it,” requested Barry X. Vampire, knowing what Alberta was going to ask. He didn’t need help getting it on this time. He was getting use to the contraption. And the shock. More difficult for a man!

—–

“I think it’s working, Albert!” he called back, happy in the moment.

“That’s very fine, sir.”

—–

He deftly straddled the Baja Bullet, looking around. Star, huh? Yeah, he was in the right place. Now to find Your Mama and, hopefully, Jim A. as well.

Maybe start at the Starlite up there…

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May 22, 2020 · 6:29 am

The Room

Brown/Beige was tittering yet again. At basically nothing this time. “Who (*snicker*) is that *girl* over there? (pause) Playing that (*giggle*) game?” she asked bestie Marsha “Pink” Krakow at the gas station owned by Pete Oesso now.

But suddenly she was *there*, stars on her shoes. Someone had been in her shoes before. Similar choices.

She stepped back from the machine that had nothing on it. She looked over: Brown/Beige was gone from the window seat. She was alone in the gas station.

She changed again, remembering more.

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May 21, 2020 · 8:15 am

elephants once more

“I can’t emphasize this enough, Wheeler. We are *here*. Elephant continent. Until the end.”

“I’ll give it a year and a half,” spoke up the part owner of newly relocated Collagesity, just like before. “And you, Peter Oesso — like an opossum.  Are you: *Baker* yet? You don’t appear to be Axis any longer. Not at the core.”

“Hucka Doobie is going to be *soo* mad.”

—–

He stands up, alone in the office that could have been his given different circumstances. Santman was going to be born right over there, Peter Oesso, formerly TronAxis (etc.) lamented. And now he shall. I have escaped the machine. I will let another be absorbed, an alternate self.

I have made a decision which way the current flows.

The Storybrook garage will stay for now. Marsha “Pink” Krakow and new bestie Beige/Brown will return soon. I will tell them a joke about 2 elephants with conjoined trunks. Marsha will remember who I am, and also the aunt. Ant. She can leave, then.

—–

“I couldn’t stay away from you forever, dear, you knew that.”

“I did,” he spoke over to his unfaithful but still forgiven wife. “Dogg would miss you too much!”

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May 21, 2020 · 7:20 am

We are here.

A work in progress still, but Collagesity has moved to Urqhart or thereabouts. Former land in Nautilus will be set up for sale in the next day. Big news indeed! These here Collagesity photo-novels have found a new center to pivot around in all its various locations. Home.

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May 20, 2020 · 8:43 am

split screen

“We’re not here to play with chess pieces, my lovely Linda Halsey,” Marty opens. “We’re here to play with minds. Give me a report on the latest over in Urqhart (or thereabouts), dearest.”

“Sure, um. We think Wheeler may be back in the game.”

“Is that good?”

“Is it?” she returned, and then Lisa Smipson showed up asking if they wanted menus but only brought up Vegetarian selections for specials. They thanked her while shaking their heads about needing food, not realizing who she was in the moment. Lisa then dropped this broad hint of how the game should go.

“You know, a mere pawn can be turned into a whole board given enough time,” she said in her pleasantly squeaky voice, bordering between serious and parody. Kind of like stuck between a 2d and 3d existence.  Fisher the fry cook called from the kitchen, needing her to pick up another order. “2 Perch, hold the fries, hold the slaw,” he called, giving more hints. She turned sideways and fairly disappeared in front of them. Another took her place in a frozen slice of time.

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May 19, 2020 · 8:24 am

the story continues…

SEAN “Green” Penn was the last person who lived on Arnold Lane, now covered in sand and almost forgotten in time. And now he was leaving as well, heritage perhaps lost to the town. Back to New Orleans where he came, back to The Man and perpetual plans to move to Little Rock in Arkansas and decrease the blues a bit. Just a little, just enough to put thoughts of ending it all out of the picture. The more limiting framework of a polaroid might help here again, so he took Pink’s with him, studied it until sometimes late at night when the moon was full and the stars were obscured by lighted sky. “We will be married one day and I can reveal to her my truth self, black behind white. 28 years old and developing rheumatoid arthritis in my back and neck and not a 15 year old with developing acne.” He’d learned that from Olive, *remembered* it because of her. Now the heritage was with him. He must return.

It was 5 years in the past 5 years in the past 5 years in the past. But it was also present. Marsha “Pink” Krakow had a choice to make.

“Welllll. I guess this is it, Marsha. Out with the Old, in with the New, as they say.”

“New *What*, though?” asked Marsha, piggybacking on something SEAN had revealed earlier in the evening. Marty had sent former top assassin Arthur Kill away — a possible way to cross the river into Staten Island and New York proper. She *knew* that. But she kept asking. *Was* she a star? *Could* she be? She stared over at SEAN, studied the lines on his concerned face, the pain of realization. No. She couldn’t go with him. Not now not ever. Storybrook remains Story*book* forever and ever. There were different currents, true, but only one unity under church and god, and that church had a red top. STAR, she must be.

She picked up the drumsticks she brought with her and went over and kissed SEAN full on the lips before departing. Back to the “Good Side” and loving parents who are, yes, split right now because of her, but also loving and caring still. And Dogg! Who could forget Dogg, both shades of him. A true Great Dane he is.

SEAN will be *fine*, she tried to reassure herself as she walked away from Arnold Lane that night, tears in her eyes. I will send him another polaroid when I become a true star to cheer him up again.

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May 19, 2020 · 6:41 am

irreality

She carefully checked her inventory. She had only 1 even satisfactory picture of it, a polaroid taken almost 2 months back now. Nothing worthy of showing former photography (and calligraphy) teacher Tom Banks for artistic reasons. But still, very *meaningful* to her.

A solid lime green car, formerly in the very back of the backyard of her neighbors the Hendersons who had since moved to even greener pastures. She thought she might make a poem about the object; call it “Lemon”.

There was no feined variation of hue
Lime green it was through and through
A car of such utter color solidity
That it brought into question the rest of the city

It was a start at least. Her inspiration for the title, a Warhol print pointed out to her by Brown (Beige):

And now Tom Banks is accused of killing Gene Kelley (aka Jake Trimmer aka Mr. Fix It) behind another lemon of a truck, as he called it that day of the killing, in front of Brown and herself no less at his gas station. Of course they didn’t understand the circumstances at the time — couldn’t grasp the gravity of the moment. Now it weighed on her mind constantly, and she turned back to the other lemon in town, that queerly solid hued car behind the Henderson’s house, almost hidden within a small grove of trees there. The two *had* to be connected. But how?

She remembered being disappointed that the car was suddenly gone, followed by the Hendersons themselves. She never got to ask Gerald or Geraldine or Gerald Jr. or Geraldette about it, so quickly they left shortly after the sighting. But she has the polariod, she didn’t dream it up. A solid lime green auto. And now she suddenly feels that the town is empty without it, a shell of what it was. Growing pains are difficult. She better get down to SEAN at the beach, help him continue to move…

—–

“What are these, um, *eggs*?”

“Oh… just something I bought from some witch over in Egg Hill Sink,” Green replied to Pink, obviously thinking of Olive here.

There was only one egg, he understood now. And it was a nest version.

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May 18, 2020 · 9:34 am

lanes


“Selma says Go!”

“You shouldn’t be digging too deep in these hills, Marty. There’s Indian relics that you don’t want to be uncovering.” He indicates the heavily bulldozed, grassy green knoll behind the famous singer/composer.

“Cursed, yeah. I know all about that.”

“The fame,” guessed Barry X. Vampire from his swing, smoking a Marlboro tonight for a particular reason. Marlborough.

“Star,” Marty furthered. “Like Marsha ‘Pink’ Krakow wanted to be. I sent Arthur Kill over to Storybrook to kill all that. But then I had a change of heart. Let her be a star if she chooses. It’s her life to live. I will be hidden darkly in the Beech Grove if she needs me, like New Orleans. I still have a key.”


“Head Inside”

“To success,” Barry finished again.

“To *failure*,” Marty corrected. “Obscurity. It’s what Vain people like us fear the most. To die in Vain when we could have died in Washington D.C.”

“Capitol idea,” came the reply this time.

“Capitol *Records* idea,” and then in Marty’s newish Urqhart garden they played his first non-Capitol hit “Coming Up,” knowing it would inspire Lemon to come back to music one last time. Despite the immense weight of fame and also Yoko Ona. Who we should probably talk to next; get her side of the story.

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May 17, 2020 · 3:37 pm

elephants

“Well. That looks like it for Collagesity in Nautilus, Hucka Doobie. Can’t upgrade beyond a 8192 here any more. Only way to expand is to move to Urqhart.”

“Or thereabouts,” amended Hucka. “Not *quite* in Urqhart.”

“Close enough,” responds the male Baker, perhaps soon to be sole owner of this downsized Collagesity if things swing back the other way. Wheeler Wilson will be out on her high heels. I wonder what that would do to the somewhat diminished town moving forward? Will Carrcassonnee fully return? *Can* she? With perhaps help from relative newcomer and fellow one eyed monster Frank, for example? Trouble is, there might not be a Temple of TILE to house them, if so.

Bottom line: I have an 11924 in Urqhart or thereabouts to play around with or else sell again in the next several weeks, probably for at least the same amount I bought it. Only thing risked, really, is increase of tier for the month. But like the RL wife said, it’s all for art. Why not? Not much of a risk at all in the bigger picture.

But the sale could be the 8192 in Nautilus. Here.

In my estimation, Hucka Doobie is plotting to eradicate Wheeler from the picture: push the fusion of Collagesity and NWES City and the at least partial absorption of the former into the latter, kind of like what was planned for Collagesity and VHC City several years back in the story of photo-novel 4. We’ll see if Baker Bloch/Barry X. Vampire listens close enough.

“The story of Mainland remains downsizing,” she continues in her urgings. “NWES City is an anomaly in that way. We *must* latch onto that energy. The signs are there.”

“Oesso signs,” replies Baker Bloch, also thinking of the newest collage set in NWES City and its perpetual window. To what, though?


Star?

I think it might be swinging.

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May 17, 2020 · 8:03 am

Barry X. Vampire

I have a chance to return, finish my novel. “The Spinning Tire.” “The Revolving Wheel.” Still working on it. Still working on the text. I should talk to Buddy about it, the butler.

—–

“Wait, you’re Alberta.”

“Correct, sir. Did you enjoy the Great Belt?”

“Umm.”

“Did I tell you I am a butler and my original home was Butler? In Pennsylvania of the US of A.”

“Yes, I think you mentioned it. But what about *Urqhart*? We’re in Greater Urqhart, true. But if I choose to buy that land, or *retain* that land, we’ll be right in the heart of things. Green, Alberta. The land is so green. It feels like home to me. I’m not sure about Baker Bloch, though. I think he’d like to downsize and keep things in Fordham over on that arid Nautilus ridge. Obviously I’d like the opposite — seems like it. What — how do you weigh in, Alberta? You’re a trusted friend, and you know the area. What about that dried up body of water over there, Sox Pond and Indian Lake combined? Seems like that’s enough to keep me — us — in the area and away from Nautilus.”

“I think sir, considering all the possible pathways, that there is no true wrong decision at this point. And NWES —”

“Ah yes. NWES. Export of bits and pieces of Collagesity into that still growing, massive burg. Fast becoming the Tokyo of Mainland, Our Second Lyfe it is.”

“Marty is there,” suggested Alberta. “But also Marty is *here*.”

—–

You can start with the house; build out from that.”

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