Daily Archives: August 10, 2024

00430616 (Silverhhand)

Just over here, V. Behind these Tiler shacks.

—–

“So this is how it is?”

“What did you expect? A tombstone? Flag and flowers?”

“I don’t know. Something. Anything.”

“You blew up Arastraville Tower. You killed a lot of people, Jonny. And where did it get you in the end? The corps and their suits for men are still in control.”

“I know I know.” He pauses. “I was a musician too besides being a terrorist,” he tried.

“One overrides the other?” I asked as a question. Because I was curious how Jonny was going to balance the two. History would view the music as largely about terrorism, not visa versa. Music should ultimately be uplifting, not constantly tearing down our lives, deconstructing them. Something like Blue Moon and her UK Cracks have merit just by that virtue alone. I told Jonny this.

“Are you saying I should have listened more to those bubblegum bitches?”

“Maybe. Cary listened. He liked them. Until… well, you know.”

Both thought of the death of Blue Moon and possibly Redd the Menace too.

“Maybe it should have been me at the bottom of that damn dam instead of Kentucky. Maybe history would have viewed me more in a positive light.”

“That’s static in that direction, Jonny. You’re not Blue Moon, you’re not bubblegum pop. You’re hard edged rock ‘n roll, always have been, always will. You can’t change who you are inside, the core.”

“Can’t you?” Exhale; another pause. “You know I thought about being an artist, V. A painter instead of an axer. Pretty good too. Won some awards as a child prodigy.”

I checked my watch, thought about the growing length of this section. “Yeah, really don’t have time to explore alternate realities right now, Jonny. The musician/terrorist polarity is complicated enough. Any last words? Over your grave, I mean.”

“Just carve the initials and let’s get out of here.”

“Done, and…

“Done.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0616, Badlands, C2077

00430615 (garage as it turns out (a kind of bat cave))

“Try to open this door,” Silverhhand said as I walked up. Around the corner, just as Blue Moon indicated.

I went up to the keypad, noticed the thing was laid out like that of a traditional phone, 3 or 4 letters grouped under each number. This:

2 corresponds to A, B, C
3 corresponds to D, E, F
4 corresponds to G, H, I
5 corresponds to J, K, L
6 corresponds to M, N, O
7 corresponds to P, Q, R, S
8 corresponds to T, U, V
9 corresponds to W, X, Y, Z

“Jesus. We’re almost at the end. Hurry up with it, will you.”

And so I took Jonny literally and carefully typed in 53787, the numbers standing for the letters in the name he just gave me. JESUS. No go. Then I thought of the WOW signal that had replaced JESUS in Grand Theft Auto’s version of Richard Knight’s Salvation Mountain over in the southwest part of the state, and, suspiciously, containing some of the same letters. What was it? I thought. Yes, 6E, um Q, J, and, er, 5. U somewhere in there too. Right, 6EQUJ5, I put them together in my head. That sounded right. So I figured out the corresponding numbers for the included letters and then typed 637855, so close to the other number. The door opened after I punched in 8, so only 4 needed. Even closer, then: 6378 to 5378. Only 1 after if we count in 1000s. I walked inside.

Silverhhand manifested on a lighted table in the revealed room full of high tech equipment. “Well what do we have here?” He was staring at a huge projection screen on the far wall, maybe a TV. He picked up a conveniently placed guitar, started strumming a tune he said was called “Beast of Tousaint”. “Ring any kind of bell?” he asked after playing a couple of bars. “Say… a mountaintop?” Suddenly images began to form on the screen across from us, layered one after another in a kind of domino effect. All this confused me at first. The people in the images appeared… different than the ones in Nightsity. They seemed alien to me. Then I recognized one about 5 in, which caused a domino effect itself. From there until the end of the “presentation” about 30 slides later many if not most seemed familiar. I had indeed seen them before. On a mountaintop. In Tousaint. I told this to Jonny who had finished his song by then.

“Good boy. Good, We’re ready to go out to the Oil Fields.” And his 97 silver 911 Porsche manifested before the screen representing a quick way out there. Would take hours to walk.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0615, C2077, Kabusie, Witcher

00430614

It happened shortly after the rain started, probably after the first thunderclap. “What’s that, boy? Timmy’s fallen down a well and can’t get out but never mind that now and more important matters are pressing?” Frank repeated after his talking dog (in his head, for now). “Well, lead on!” he said.

The rain had stopped and it had gotten light when they came to this upside down guy with his parachute stuck in a tree down a nearby dirt road. A man from Tennessee, he claimed. No, a man *named* Tennessee, let’s change it. So the Blue Balls/Blue Moons sculptor is actually a man and not a woman as presumed. But what’s he doing in this tree, dropped down from the sky? Helicopter? Better cut him down so we can ask more questions.

Back on the ground, Frank told him that he had Chomp to thank for his rescue. But in turning around to find the dog — nothing. Frank didn’t own a dog, never had never will. And then the parachutist was gone too; Frank Lynn had apparently hallucinated the whole scenario. No more graytop mushrooms! he swore off then and there.

—–

But he eventually couldn’t resist — Mikie talked him into it I believe. This caused the second manifestation of the dog in another thunderclap during another thunderstorm, all part of it too. He was wetter and blacker this time, Frank noted through the gray-ish haze. “What’s that, boy?” he began to talk to the mutt again in his head. “Timmy remains trapped down in that well but there’s still more important matters to deal with tonight over at the damn, er, dam?”

So he followed the dog again down a different road this time to, as it turns out, the Petrochemistry Dam in a whole ‘nother game. The same guy was in trouble once more.

“Tennessee — if that’s your real name. What the hell are you doing?”

“It’s perfectly fine,” he said, teetering on the edge of death. “I just have to finish what the tree stopped before. The parachute opened by accident. I never intended to be saved.”

“Man that’s crazy. Get down from there!”

“Too late! AAAAAAAAHHHH!”

Muttering about him being a damn (dam?) fool, Frank Lynn rushed to the bottom….

… only to find someone totally different lying in the blood tainted stream there. Somehow someway, Tennessee had switched over to Kentucky in the free fall. Then everything disappeared just like before. He had Clyde on the phone in no time to schedule an emergency session, but his therapist had bad news too. He was changing jobs and moving. In the fall. No bookings before then. This is when Fremont came into his life. And Rutherford B. Hayes became the first president of our US of A to never be president. Triumvirate.

—-

“Go see Jonny Silverhhand to end this thing,” spoke Blue Moon to me when she popped up good as new over at the Kabusie roundabout marketplace after about 3 days we’ll say. “Just around the ‘corner’ — you can’t miss him.” And then she came to me and pecked a kiss on my cheek before walking away, saving the best for later.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0614, C2077, GTA, Kabusie, Rancho C

00430613

“If you were smart, you’d figure out more about the Illinois beanstalk through Wyatt in Missouri.”

“Who’s there? Who’s that?”

Pause. “Wilson,” she decided to say.

—–

I’m not sure why I liked thunderstorms at night so much but when they came I almost inevitably found myself outside exploring the roads and byways of Tousaint, drenched or not. Tonight was no exception.

Maybe it was the lack of people around to distract me from my thoughts but these beaten paths weren’t very populated even in the center of the day so that wasn’t much of a reason. And I didn’t mind chatting with an occasional acquaintance or even friend I might meet along the way. Good way to keep up with gossip about the realm.

So what was it?

Sometimes my new dog Chomp would follow me onto the road during these nights but would always turn back upon the first loud thunderclap. That one time I took graytop mushrooms before going out, putting the green after it instead of before for a change, alchemically speaking. “Damn!!” he issued loudly in a surprisingly feminine voice for such a butch appearing mutt at the initial boom. “I’m out of here, boss!” and hightailed back home. That’s when I decided to put the grey before the green more often and listen to what he had to say. A lot as it turned out! He seemed to know more about the realm than any single person for sure. And even beyond its borders, far far beyond…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0613, Illinois, Missouri, Witcher

00430612 (The Letter)

Gerald realizes there’s only 1 bush and not 2. Not 2 S’s in other words. He is a former witcher true, but his name is Gerald, not Geralt. And the “monster” he slayed in Tousaint — 1 s again — is Redd not Rhenawedd, exposed for the double face she is. The immediate giveaway is that she couldn’t be painted, thus artist Greg Ogden’s highly abstracted depiction of her appearing on his canvas much to his chagrin initially. Later he got use to the style, eventually descending further further further into this new art until only pure mathematics and pure chance were left, 2 faces of one thing themselves. You are what you paint.

Harking back to the Oracle there is a historic village named Tousaint in Ohio along the Toussaint River, the lone example of that town name in our country of the US of A. And in the same county of Sandusky with Clyde and Fremont.

Oops. Wrong map. 🙂

We recall that Mikie’s therapist was named Clyde, soon to be changed to Fremont as June-July-August inevitably slides into Fall and beyond. A larger community for higher ideas and ideals. And this returns us to Mars through the backdoor, Asylum bartender Teebestia with a mask herself waiting on Anderson, Norris and Hayes at once, as if she had 3 heads to match each of theirs. Triumvirate.

“I’ll open up the Table to questions.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0612, Google Street View, Iowa, Mars^^, Minnesota, Ohio, Witcher

00430611 (Mr. S)

They were just experimenting with the one bike between takes, merely rubbing noses it seems, when the director called them back to the set.  “Actually,” he said when they returned to the plywood backdrop in the background above that pictured all things Soos Creek on its other side, “I think we’ll just go with *plywood* this time — let *plywood* be the actor.” The girls logically thought this idea was the result of his rock cocaine imbibed during the break but he was altogether serious. Plywood actor it is, a hire from the Robots Guild. Since he could travel at 181.56 miles per hour and the Guild was only 5 miles away, given a favorable wind and a pretty straightforward path between points A and B it only took him around 2 minutes to reach the set once the call was put in.

“Aaaaanddd ACTION!”

“Hmm, where’d they go?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0611, Kangerootown, Omega^^, Washington