Category Archives: Fries with Cheese

March 10, 2024 · 9:40 pm

00420302

“I found this in the same county as White Stone, Hucka. Merry and Mary, just like in St. Merry’s (?) Church.”

“Follow up on that,” she requests. So I did. I talked to Pastor Ziegler about the weird conjunction.

—–

“That’s interesting it’s Mary Ball there as well.”

“As well?” I prompted.

“Yes. Mary Ball is the mother of George Washington. And it happens that it’s Pitch Darkly’s Mary’s maiden name too. Can’t be coincidence.”

“Again,” I replied.

“Especially since they also have a kid named George, come to think of it. Not sure how old the boy would be now. Maybe even a teenager?”

“He was growing up fast the last time I checked,” I agreed

“Anyway (*sigh*), this is certainly a mystery indeed. Another Virginia neck mystery.”

“First Susan and Shadow. Now this. Lively… variant names of both Pitch Penny and Catch Penny, inferring a battery in baseball. Balls are more lively than they use to be back in the dead ball era, before the death of Indian Ray Chapman via beaning and the cleaning up of (the ball and) the game, giving hitters the upper hand over pitchers (and catchers) from that day forward. Martyr, some say because of it.”

“I’m glad you are confiding all this to me,” spoke Pastor Stephan Ziegler of the 1st Church of St. Merry’s — yes, that’s the name — who seemed just happy to be part of the town story again. Aisle of Palms… stated he loves it in all its interesting twists and turns. I thought to myself that he’s probably just glad I didn’t instead go to Rev. Amos T. Sandman across the street at the rival Fries with Cheese Church with my insights — gives him the upper hand there as well. But of course Amos is rarely in the building because of the smell. Allergic to cheese of all things. And they built the church out of the material, as traditional states. No one can really stay there that long without wearing clothes pins on their noses, and so that became part of their traditional as well, part of ecclesiastical lore.

Fries with Cheese office manager Martha Lamb takes note of Baker’s exit from her second floor office window while getting ready to go home herself. She can free up the nostrils at last. Worst part of the job — everything else she loves, just like Stephan, who she perceives as a direct arch-rival, assuming that role for the mainly absent Reverend, she feels

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August 22, 2023 · 1:52 pm

Joker

“Amos T. Sandman,” I spoke from the side. “I kind of figured you’d end up in a circus.”

“Welp,” the colorful dancing clown replied, “I had no religion to preach any longer what with the demise of the Cheesers. What else was left for me? I have subjects; that’s the important thing. Right Fluffie, Spoilsport, Clyde?” he spoke to the various clowns around him presently. He danced in a circle (acknowledging each one?) toward the central top hat on a trunk, the cane, the cards.

“Turn it over, Baker,” he seemed to request about the mystery one before him.  “See what *your* next subject is. I bet it’s not an ace. That’s already been done; that would be heading backwards.” He danced back forwards. “Or sideways or something, black and red, clubs and spades, doesn’t matter.” He picks up the cane besides the cards to augment the dance in spots. Then the top hat itself upon a next whirl. Then, a final twirl and swoop, the mystery card itself, which became all cards when turned over, instantly halting the charade. He had shown his true face.

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January 22, 2023 · 9:39 am

what we know so far…

It’s called Soos Mountain Community, north central part of the Jeogeot mainland continent, Our Second Lyfe. Somoco for short.

Two ground galleries exist there for my collages: the Boos Gallery (or, now, “Boos in Soos” I suppose, ha) and, next door, the Red Umbrella. Details of each can be found on the collage page of this site.

https://bakerbloch.com/collages/

I’ve decided not to call this village Collagesity again because I don’t have the majority of my collages displayed there, unlike a true, classic version a la a Rubi (Heterocera) or a Fordham (Nautilus) location. Lacking are Falmouth, Gilatona-Lis, and Art 10×10 collage series, over 200 collages in total. Also I’m having challenges fitting in newer, post-Boos collages into a proper virtual gallery, all lumped together for now and labeled Bogota (2016-present). Unlike other series, Bogota works tend to act as supplements to the photo-novels instead of linking with each other inside independent series (or sub-series), although I’ve decided to divide them into such anyway, or make a stab at it. Since photo-novel 01, “Collagesity Winter 2015-2016”, the tone and intensity of the collages have shifted. I’m still exploring what this means long term: the progression of the novels, almost 36 in number now (!), doesn’t seem to be slowing down much at all. *It* is the new center moving forward, not collages, although this situation could change/revert. I’m also eyeing a return to audiovisual synchronicities in the future, another kind of collage revival. We’ll see.

Anyway, back to the name, Soos Mtn. is the dominant natural feature of the community so there’s that as well.

Who lives there? A chance that Karoz Blogger and his lovely wife and blog co-owner Baker Blinker will, although that’s a bit up in the air. I’m eyeing the Julia House strategically placed along the community’s only cascade/waterfall for a residence, something that was set up in Collagesity Fordham for that same purpose but not really fulfilled. Perhaps Karoz can regain the N there he lost somewhere along the way, turning it or transforming it into a Julian House, droop no more. Unlikely but still a probability.

Martian Mabel could return. Her old Scarlet Creative Sylvia House she loved so much has been rerezzed. Her crush on blog co-owner Baker Bloch could be revisited, her *Gravity Falls* origins reexamined, hmm.

https://bakerbloch.com/2017/01/24/47950/

Entrepreneur and noted art thief Herbert Gold and his accomplice-wife Lovey (April Mae Flowers) are quite likely to return. Their very interesting and unique Gothic-Deco House is all set up and ready to move back into, positioned below the Julia House and the falls we mentioned before. To review, they stole the collage “Humanvillians” from the Falmouth Gallery in 2019 and got in a lot of trouble because of it. They want to fully redeem themselves in the eyes of others.

Baker Blinker’s old Gloomy Gus residence is also back (directly above the Scarlet Creative Sylvian House). Wheeler’s place?

The Hole in the Wall bar has returned, present in every version of Collagesity down through the years as I recall.

The Red Door Church sits on the northern slope of the mountain. Seems to be a revival of the Ood religion going on within, what with the return of the clown sacrificial alter. Not sure about its opposite religion Fries with Cheese actually run by clowns; no presence yet in the community. Have they all been eradicated?

Then we have the 2 pillars of the community in the Blue Feather on the western side, in the lowest part of the land, and then the Soos Castle perched on the very top of the mount. We’ll examine those in more detail in a post coming up.


top to bottom: Soos Castle, Red Door Church, Falls Shack, Julia House, Gothic-Deco House


left to right: Gothic-Deco House, Gloomy Gus, Scarlet Creative Sylvia House, ML Gazebo 138, Hole in the Wall, Blue Feather


Boos and Red Umbrella collage galleries

(to be continued)

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June 8, 2021 · 6:42 am

sticky point

“Why are we here, Summerhill?”

“You know why. Because it’s the only place I absolutely *can* stand in this here flat piece of–”

“Summerhill!” interrupts high priest clown Amos Sandman, her colorful opposite in ecclesiastical matters. If only the *owners* could hear. He peers around nervously, as if the bushes and trees and flowers had eyes. Perhaps they do. “Do you know how much *rent* is around here?”

“Arm and a leg, I know. Angel’s Rest indeed, pheh. More like Devil’s—”

“Now, now!” intervenes Sandman again, eager for a break in this line of talking. Perhaps they should resume walking. If the vegetation has eyes and also ears, let them hear leisurely chatting of a lazy summer afternoon, see random smelling of roses and thistles, and the occasional prick of a thorn or needle despite carefulness, for there are so many around. He stares at the wienies stuck on a finely waxed, hand crafted stick between them, hot dogs if you speak uncouth around these here parts. Maybe that could be a new topic.

Summerhill Nova, white as Elmer’s glue (that was the point), shuffles her feet on her own luxurious forest rug before her. “Can’t *stand* it.” She stifles an urge to stand to emphasize her point. She too now stares at the wienies in their midst, recently roasted to a delicate crisp. Not too languid and limp of course, but also not too staunch and rigid. On a scale of 10 to 13, about an 11, then, or maybe a 12. From her perspective the two objects perfectly cover the head of the clown priest except for the eyes that see and ears that hear, albeit the latter hidden in thick, curly red clown hair. She ponders the meaning of the juxtaposition. Does the vegetation lushly lying around them also know that Sandman is full of unknown ingredients of dubious origins? That must be it. I see you for what you are (etc.).

Sandman catches her stare and makes his own interpretation of the framed overlap, opposite in direction for him. “We are like two peas in a pod, you and me.” He points between them and then they are perfectly done.

Summerhill has to accept that.

(to be continued?)

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February 29, 2020 · 7:36 am

the ones

“The Fries with Cheese branch of the Main Cheese Church and the Church of the Cult of Oo’d over there have existed side by side in Collagesity for well over a year now. Clown sacrifices (Oodites) next door to a religion (Cheesies) headed by a clown. But they get along fairly well — it’s a small town and everyone knows everyone. No need for protracted bickering, with the proverbial hatchet buried quite long ago underneath a ceremonial rock straddling their shared property line.” Baker turns and then points. “I think you can see it right down there.”

Wheeler leans over and peers too. “Yes. I see it.”

“Knives are the weapon of choice now, but only within the church.”

“Okay, good.”

Baker returns his attention to the story. “Drawing back to look at the bigger picture, the hatchet remains more exposed, a lingering effect of the VHC City-Pond District War. VHC City is where the Cult of Oo’d started, an underground movement at first that has secretly returned to that location in the highest ranks, wegee boards and planchettes in hand. Summerhill Nova, owner of most of the underground in that town, is titular head of the Oodties now as well, although they disguise themselves as Christians (ELMERS) for broader appeal. And as we’ve learned, the Pond District is home of the Main Church of Cheese currently fronted by the Good Rev. Amos T. Sandman.”

“Who I have a date with tonight, lucky me.” The gown she chose for the occasion suited her well, Baker thought. She was trying to use her position of power to gain information. He continues…

“Summerhill has remained pure and white as glue to promote the above ground version of her religion. Amos T. Sandman’s appearance is like a bouquet of blossoming color.  Yet dig down just a little and it is clear these two leaders have much in common beneath opposing surfaces. Each is a *hatchet* themselves.”

“Explain,” requested Wheeler while holding up a pocket mirror and applying more lipstick.

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February 27, 2020 · 6:56 am

bitter

Surprising me, the Main Church of Cheese (or just Main Church) still exists in the Pond District of Heterocera. I decided to pay a visit, disguised as a parishioner.

Afterwards I tracked down the Good Rev. Amos T. Sandman (clown) to get more of the scoop. Info about the brief but intense Pond District-VHC City war back in the day would be super nifty. *Jackpot* there, for the Reverend was a treasure trove — had a personal archive out back on the conflict. Said his grandfather piloted a Main Cheese boat over to the shores near VHC City to help with the barricade.

The next week we met in nearby Rodentia to further discuss the matter. Rodentia is fast becoming a treasured relic itself, having been around in Our Second Lyfe for over 10 years. His church was visible through this coffee shop window with a larger draw distance, adding to the ambience.

“So tell me about the Oodites,” I began. “Why did you guys hate each other so intensely? I get the whole clowning thing with you and presumably your grandpa, heh.”

“The Oodites deserved all they got. They put a black hole in the middle of that town and dominated through it. Warped the minds of the commoners (humans) there. *Sang* from that middle. He opened his red tainted clown mouth here for a bit but no sound emerged that I could hear. “That was 10 years ago,” he then continued, and *that* at the end of another 10 — the 10th. Pitch Dark that black hole was.” He paused here for me to absorb.

“I mean,” I spoke through Man About Time, “how did the Oo’ds get there? The aliens you speak of.”

“Oh they were horrible to look at. Could drive a man mad easily with their tentacles for mouths and their sideways eyes. Henry (Russian Grey parishioner I met the week before) looks good in comparison, ha.”

“Heh.” And I wondered why I laughed like that again, like a goofy kid. Did I have a cold?

“Well — how did the underground (movement) start?”

And it was here that Rev. Amos T. Sandman said he had to split to prepare for a diatribe against bananas on Sundae, a rival yellow food. We’d have to get more of the story at a later date.

(to be continued?)

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February 26, 2020 · 9:23 am

trees 02

“She’s trying out different religions, Hucka Doobie. Branching out from the Fries with Cheese Church. Like this tree based one in Quack.”

“Quack — good.”

“Expansion of the Jana Forest has kept me there.”

“Good. How’s Pitch? Still licking the wounds to his ego?”

“I suppose. More to be seen in Bena, apparently.”

“Have Wheeler walk outside before you leave here.”

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February 15, 2020 · 6:47 am

away

“I wish you didn’t have to go off to war again, Jack.”

“Me too,” he wanted to say, but instead uttered: “Duty calls. Heterocera needs me — us.”

“So you’ll take Tronesisia with you?”

“Of course. Unless you think you need her more here for your services.”

“No no,” his wife Kate McCoy insisted. “She gives me great pleasure but I can find that elsewhere. There’s a little shop in the village that sells somewhat acceptable alternatives.”

“Good.” He pauses to think of the likely alternatives and shakes his head a bit. The price they pay for war, specifically 680 lindens or so in this particular aspect — last time he checked. “I’m sorry again that I have to do this.”

“Well. Summerhill Nova *stressed* that Heterocera isn’t dead and that VHC City can continue on as a powerful ally for us. *And* as they face a threat from the west I suppose there’s no alternative than to help out a — friend? Can we call Summerhill now a true friend? She tried to kill our mother, brother, and niece and nephew. And that was only in the last year!”

“She’s assured me that’s all in the past,” Jack Snow reinforced, thinking several weeks back to the, hopefully, final attempted assassination of a family member at the hands of Clan Nova. Poisoned ketchup. Luckily, Nephew Jimmy was a mustard guy. “We can put all that behind us. If we–”

“–help them,” Kate McCoy finishes for him. Her makeup applied, she gets up to accompany her husband to the awaiting battle ship. So much more needed to be said. Why the Fries with Cheese Church again, of all the religions Summerhill could have chosen? The one that would obviously lead to conflict.

(to be continued)

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February 4, 2019 · 8:36 am

doomed

He couldn’t quite resolve the ruined and useless parasol from this distance — thought it another of the circling ravens at a glance. But this particular black shape remained motionless unlike the others. And it was more triangularly. He better go investigate.

This is when Dickie Doom first sat on the Throne of Jethro. Or was it the Bauer Throne. Anyway, that’s when he initially surveyed the ruined Fries with Cheese church where former New Island neighbors Mrs. Fogg and Ms. Frame hid out in the dark, dark days after the apocalyptic lime kiln explosion. Deafening it was to their ears, blinding to their eyes. Yet after several excruciating hours the sights began to return for each, the sounds. Silence all around for the longest time. Visuals, but of wrecks. Twisted metal. Tires. Crates and doors and chairs, paint removed by the disaster. Highways broken and trust up in the air instead of grounded and whole. The insects remained, hidden in the filthy soil. Then the birds came back. The blessed birds. The insects scuttled out. The birds swooped in, first one, then a few, then a flock (or murder). Gobble gobble. The cycle of life and death was restored in this small way. This opened the doors for others: rats, of course; a few wild cats who ate the rats, and then the larger animals. Mastodons. No, not mastodons. But some other large animals. Hippos might have numbered among them. Tigers. Yes: tigers. And dogs the size of rats the size of cats.

And the ruined parasol mirroring the ruined church turned out not to be black but purple, the color of violets. Dickie Doom missed flowers greatly.

He better get back to the shelter.

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July 17, 2018 · 5:35 am

Achilles

An invisible cartoon boy, Martha Lamb thinks, studying Falmouth 36 once more on the 4th floor of the Fal Mouth Moon gallery. Hugged and loved by a visible cartoon girl with red shoes. Perhaps they are future lovers, or perhaps brother and sister. Maybe he has a defect that hides him from view — a malady — but is loved by his sister still. Odd that I think this, she ruminates.

Then over here, further away in a field, the inversion: girl invisible and boy visible. The “E” on the next collage over blinks on and off. This *is* love; mutual exchanging.

If I could just *reach* into the collage… somewhere about… here.

Or is it here?

Here?

—–

So close yet so far. How to get from there…

… to here. Swish away the pain into the ice and snow and make it all go away. Football successfully kicked.

—–

“‘Copyright Protected Image’,” she read from the picture in front of her. “And to think I was going to get rid of all this in Collagesity, Sid my dearest. But now I think it is a gateway to the Great Beyond, fries and liquor be damned.”

“You shouldn’t say that about your church,” Sid offered. “You were so devoted to it before.”

She turned to him. “The Diagonal changed me, made me into a true woman. I was like two-dimensional before. *You* changed me.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about that…”

“All that’s left is the hand and how to break through. Without pain. They say that there’s no gain without pain, but I’m thinking of something else.”

“Yeah, Martha. I need you to listen tonight.”

She went on. “It’s the 36th collage of this series all right. I’ve been studying it nightly for going on half a week now. The Diagonal is giving me energy to understand.”

Sid grabbed her hand in order to stop her. “Listen, Martha. We need to talk. About The Diagonal.” He let go of her hand. “We can’t use it in that way any more.”

“No?” Her voice was suddenly far away, as across a field.

“No,” he said firmly. “I need to tell you the story of who I really am, how I really got here. It all started with the firing.”

“Firing?” Tears formed in her eyes despite her efforts. “What firing?”

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