“Your dog’s standing on my foot, right?”
“Hand it over!”
Monthly Archives: September 2022
00340607
The door to the place in the sewer was open, unlike before. Now casually dressed Roberts sat on one of the reddish chairs within, facing another. Franklin? If John L. Brown is such, and perhaps he is. He got Jem high as a kite with the Duck dope over in Ontario to save or at least extend her short simulacrum life, and everyone knows *Benjamin* Franklin is an expert kite flyer, perhaps a drug user himself? Firesign Theatre seems to think so, at least in one strong probable reality. And besides, John’s already called himself Benjamin Franklin for just those very reasons in part 01. So there’s that.
Or Franklin could actually be Johnny Black who just arrived, since namesake Johnny Cash, Man in Black, was famously married in Franklin KY to June Carter in 1968 after getting his license over the line in Tennessee, probably passing through Black Jack south of Franklin in the effort, shared between the two states — yet another black then. And a separate community named Black Jack exists just to the north of Franklin, firmly in Kentucky in its case. Speaking of cases, pilot Thomas Mantell was born in this same Franklin and very mysteriously plummeted to his death just outside the small KY town in ’48 while chasing what he and others identified as a bonafide UFO, very near Black Jack and the Tennessee line again, even though he lived in a different part of the state at the time. So he is another aspect of Franklin definitely, representing the uroboros where cradle links up and even eats grave, causing a perpetual loop.
Roberts invited Johnny Black in, seeing him space out thinking about some of these same associations. John L. Brown then waved high as well. Appropriate. Someone was also in the pool ahead of him, although he couldn’t tell what or who. Perhaps green? Oh, and when he made his way inside and stood between them, he was standing right smack dab in the middle of what townspeople called The Anomaly, thought to be gotten rid of. Nope. Just showed up in a different place and in a slightly different form.
One thing we know is that the green thing in the pool *isn’t* Norris, who is instead dead behind swifter Johnny in the sewer, victim of a zombie attack it appears or something. We wish him well in the afterlife.
Oh look. It *was* Norris in the pool — *just* formed. Another Franklin! And perhaps the truest one.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0607, Kentucky, Paper Soap, Soap, Tennessee
All of West Virginia is suddenly at her disposal.
Wheeler, now Raspberry Girl, took the opportunity of her mate and partner in crime Johnny Black being away to catch up with some synchs, specifically “Waits 4 No 1” tonight.
As “Constantinople” begins playing to the end of “6 Feet Under”, people on screen soon to start dropping like flies, she recalls that 12 of the 13 tracks from The Residents’ seminal “Duck Stab/Buster and Glen” album are used in the synch, including this one. She also recalls… stabbing the Duck. She feels the purple-ish beret on her head reflexively, as if it might be hair.
David falls backwards dead, the first to succumb. She forgets the vision.
At 1 hour and 43 minutes in, past all 12 “Duck Stab/Buster and Glen” tracks now, she sees this, dubbed by “The sleeper has awoken” uttered by Dune’s Paul.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0606, Carrcass+03, Paper Soap, Soap, West Virginia
00340605
Unexpected development at the vet’s office. Another numbers crunching dog was already there, typing on his laptop as fast as possible. The screen shots changed at a rapid, even amazing pace. But although there were a dizzying amount of different angles, the location was obviously the same. The Red Room, sometimes known as the Red Bathroom. Also sitting Norris had found it after a long long search.
Johnny Black tried to remain as calm as possible. “Your dog?” he said over. “Talented,” he added.
“Not my dog,” replied the man with the bleached out face. Don’t look at me, he thought. Anywhere but me.
“Oh.” Johnny Black had a rethink. Norris was obviously studying what the labrador was looking at intently. Not his dog, but Norris was fascinated with the information it was receiving. Another Universe was already in place here. Removing the numbers from his own dog wouldn’t work! Darnit! Drat! Wheeler won’t take this well, he knows. He digs further to find out the source of the problem. “Interesting room he’s got there. Very red it appears.”
“Red Room, yes. I’ve been… searching for it…” Norris knew to shut up.
“Red Room you say. Is that the same as the Red Bathroom?” Johnny Black was testing Norris to see if he even knew of the latter, and that it might be the same as the former, given the right circumstances. Because everything hinged on that association now. Everyone in a high enough circle of information knew the Red Room was ultimately inaccessible. But a red bathroom — could be different.
Norris dared to look over, understanding the same. Their eyes met, their eyes locked. This was a race to the end with the loser becoming dead. Norris stood up, Johnny Black stood up. Norris took one step forward, so did Johnny as he gathered up the dog to leave. Norris took one two threefourfivesixseven. He was running out the door down the street. Johnny was right behind him, or right beside him. Maybe in front, even. Both had to go to the bathroom and it was urgent in each case — couldn’t wait. Just over there next to the swamp…
—–
“Next!” Oh frick, thought Abby the vet and vet assistant both today, seeing the empty waiting room besides Sparkles. Another owner on the run. She hasn’t got time for this.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0605, Paper Soap
00340604
The operation to take the points off his ears was a success, and they didn’t ask too many questions about his origins, thanks to receiving a considerable amount of not-so-hard earned cash on top of their regular fees for such surgery. Johnny Black had it in abundance after all, byproduct of his new name as stated. Hats smats. Besides, he couldn’t find one that suited him, plus cover up the aberrant ears well enough. So: this.
Only Wheeler sent him a get well card but that was enough. Now to remove the numbers from the dog to fully complete the transformation from good to evil, a trickier situation potentially. Because recitation of those 4 digits in those 24 iterations kept the world spinning as we know it, with everything in its proper place. Without them: chaos; The Abyss. Johnny Black, our former Newt, had to time it just right, thread a needle, walk a tightrope, insert your own idiom. Remove the numbers, gather up the cleaned out dog, and high tail it outta this place, this Paper-Soap. He’s not worried about it long term. The psychic children over in Elementary High can create a temporary holding universe until they can figure out what happened, when it will be too late. They’ll have to find another control animal which will take time. Maybe Johnny can air mail them one when he gets stabilized elsewhere. He likes this place! He doesn’t want it to end, with Paper over there and Soap over here again. The two should remain united. Just like Wheeler and himself.
To the vet!
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0604, Paper Soap, Soap
Man in Cash
“Maybe the flag with the black spider on it makes people nervous.”
–Young Greti, Sound of Music
The more modern German colors of red, yellow, were fading fast, leaving only Black. Johnny Black, formerly known as Axis but changing his name for obvious reasons; same for his dog Swastika who goes by Spider now (thanks Greti!).
He also finds a substantial amount of money has been deposited in his bank account for some reason (goes with the new name, actually) and acts quickly to purchase this out-of-the-way, sans-indoor-plumbing shack he’s had his eyes on for a while. Center or near the center of some kind of Paper-Soap psychic anomaly, at least at one time. He’s eager to try to resurrect, and he thinks he knows how.
He’s also gained 6 inches of height after, ahem, opening the box. It’s actually a different core I’m working with here, *not* Baker Bloch. A more suitable companion to Wheeler Wilson, a kind of reflection really. Sometimes also goes by Wilson Wheeler just to confuse and conflate the two even more. I suppose a comparison with notorious Real Life crinimals Bonnie and Clyde is not out of order either, especially given the involved women’s matching caps. Bonnie could have been an inspiration for Wheeler, along with Prince and his Raspberry Girl of course.
Newt’s also queerly acquired pointy ears in the transformation, like Spock. Best to get a hat soon as well.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0603, Paper Soap, Soap
new outdoorsy “center”
Fans of LOST might like this place I found yesterday on one of my daily hikes. Very reminiscent of Jacob’s Cabin — in the middle of frick’n nowhere.
Questions abound. Who lived in the cabin? Why did they leave? Was it just a hunting cabin? Has it been totally forgotten about over time due to its remoteness? Why the sink in the wall? etc., etc.
Next I visited a cemetery with tombstones variously marked Main, Maine, and Mains. I sensed a branching of probable realities, especially when a stream called Mine is nearby. Did a Main, Mine, Maine or Mains inhabit the cabin? Did the cabin, as an anomaly of some kind, cause this apparent distortion or blurring of names in the first place?
https://lostpedia.fandom.com/wiki/The_Cabin
addition: Did you know the Man in Black lived in Jacob’s Cabin? Would explain the higher ceiling.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0602, Blue Mountain
time machine (have a seat)
I figured I was in the right place because of the flag. A community where Big Pipe and Little Pipe meet to create Double Pipe, a juncture of 2 supposedly equal yet opposite realities. This is America as we know it, red (white) and blue. This is the Key.
…to the east of Detour is Keymar, to the north of Detour is another unincorporated community called Keysville…
About 1.6 million Americans don’t have this in their house (no pipes!). Here: front and center in the middle of town, like a planted Tardis.
We begin heading backwards.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0601, Google Street View, Maryland
00340516
“So it’s all settled. We know what the head in the center of the sink is.”
“We *do*?” spoke Wheeler, scratching her still beret topped head and trying to look innocent. At least she’d taken the key out of her mouth and dropped it in to be disposed of. *Tried* (damn chain).
“Where’s Baker?” Newt looked all around, as if the true owner of this blog and attached photo-novels, heading toward 34 in number, would manifest from a purple or raspberry tinted corner or wall.
“He needs to be in on this yarn, this story,” agreed Wheeler, also looking around the swamp shack but expecting less. The Prime Minister, the only one who can save the plot, the key. And it seems that he already did. Thanks to the levels, the nodal points. Now we can enter Pipersville unencumbered, he might utter if he were here. But is it really about Pipersville, a Maebaelia location famous for its sinkhole not thought about in a while? We have to think like we’re playing 3 dimensional chess. A bit like Spock. We have to get smarter, or at least more awake.
Pipersville obviously relates to pipes. The key should have passed through, Wheeler realizes, gone down. Yet it stayed at the top — caught. The key to the box that is a house, perhaps this shack itself, inner absorbing outer, passing through each other again and again ad infinitum. We should never have opened it, Wheeler understood for not the first time. Pictures. Occident separated from Orient. East over here, west over there, hemispheres apart.
Inner and outer, inner and outer…
Maybe only Nautilus can save us after all.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0516, Maebaleia/Satori, Nautilus, Paper Soap, Pipersville/Sink X^, Soap
landmimes 03
“See what we did, Keith B.? I *told* you we couldn’t avoid Horns.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0515, Google Street View, Horns of Hatton^, Maebaleia/Satori, South Dakota
Sunklands 