Category Archives: Alabama

Gunn City

Of course I had to steal Bombay Beach’s Aisle of Palms street sign and make it my own welcoming sign to the city. I’m talking about Aisle of Palms again of course, My Second Lyfe style. And then it was logical to position Trevor Philips’ look-alike Philip Strevor in the Perch Restaurant table above it. Let’s check in on what he’s up to.

Well, currently he’s starting to play that game he loves called Gunn Mobile Trailer Park, with a style so similar to what his doppelganger up in Bombay Beach’s own double of Sandy Shores experiences each and every virtual day. I wonder if he understands the bond?

Soon he comes to a critical point, building upon hours and hours of non-stop action and violence. 223 trailer park residents and visitors killed in a murder spree no one will soon forget in the overarching Mobile, Alabama metro area and indeed the whole state, at least according to future newspapers he has access to at this level like “The Bermingham Journal” and “The Phoenix City Citizen-Gazette.”

He’s killed everyone off, with no further need of his avatar’s trusted .45 caliber combat pistol. Can he deposit it into that glitch he’s learned about through a Youtube tutorial and progress beyond the park, venturing into the Mobile-Tensaw River Delta region and its vast swamplands? He knows he’ll encounter Indians there: the famed Bottle Creek tribe most noted for their large platform mounds NE of Mobile and with many rewards to reap along the way according to that video. But he cannot find them if he still possesses the gun. The makers of the game wanted the player to learn a moral lesson beyond just learning how to aim and kill in the most effective manner.

Just as an experiment, he places the gun in the glitch but knows, all along, he can’t go through with it. Instead, weapon safely back in hand, he’ll have his avatar lie low for a couple of days while the trailer park repopulates itself with outside NPCs. Soon he’ll have enough to start the murder spree all over again. And, in his head, it will continue like this, week after week, month after month. He reckons it will never get old — at least until they release version 06 of the game with its updated graphics and even more intense killing scenes. He can’t wait. Projected date of release: Fall 2025. But will his beloved character Cloe Prince return? he wonders. And if not, will he form such an intense bond with a new lead “protagonist”? Will Cloe become — gasp — obsolete in the eyes of others? Will he stick with her even so? He knows he can’t, though, because the character doesn’t make the man. Instead: the instrument of death he or she wields. And it could be a he the next time around. He’ll get use to it. You see the irony here?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0041, 0612, Alabama, Big Woods, Google Street View, GTA, Jeogeot

00410609

“Excuse me, sir. If I could interrupt you for a moment.”

—–

“And so as you can see, basically when we cross the Dewberry stream we’re already upon New Site and Chapter 03.” Baker Bloch looked around at the assembled members of The Table, a larger number than usual just because this was such an important new development: the potential end of Our Second Lyfe. “Questions so far?”

“Are we still in Randolph County?” queries Wheeler directly across the table from Baker, still dressed as Atlantis High Priestess and fresh from another shooting scene.

“Tallapoosa, actually,” replied Baker. “Same with The Barroom, same with Mary, Camp Hill, Slaughters.” I through the brain of Baker Bloch make a note to look up all US Slaughters after all this is done.

“Hmm,” said Wheeler. A pause here.

“Grassy?” Baker spoke to the green Mmmmmm being sitting to Wheeler’s left. “Any thoughts?”

But Grassy was biding his time until spring and the return of outdoor plants, ready to make a move in the Mystery Spot of nearby Boulder highlighted in a section 02 post of this here photo-novel (41). “Not at this point,” he said, knowing he represented all Toy Avatars, all of his kind, in this opinion.

“Very well.” He turned to *his* left. “Newt: any comments or opinions or whatever?”

Newt, with old Axis-style pitch black German coat worn over modern agogo red-yellow-black German t-shirt, was also biding his time. Until Baker Bloch handed over the reigns of Aisle of Palms to him; make him mayor or whatever the title turned out to be. Maybe even King? With Wheeler his Queen, if so. After all, Baker Bloch is just kind of a Prime Minister figure in all this, having most of the power to create, etc., but not being the legal ruler of the land. That remained in Wheeler’s hands. So far.

Baker looked 2 seats down. “Hucka?”

“I wish to come back into the story,” she spoke plainly, directly, looking at him then looking at everyone else at The Table, wanting them to understand she was dead serious about this.

Another pause. “Well, okay. We can make that happen. Right gang?”

Murmurs of agreement all around, even the usually silent 88’s sitting to Wheeler’s right. Everyone knew the spiritual importance of Hucka to the blog, a type of Holy Ghost to the thing.

—–

Afterwards, Baker thought back to meeting the Bishop in an unexpected place off Old Wagon Road in central Maebaleia (continent), Our Second Lyfe must remain relevant being the overarching message he relayed. And then he took him diagonally to Redlands for a demonstration.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0041, 0609, Alabama, Big Woods, Boulder, Haze County, Jeogeot

00410607

Bulby, St. Dennis style.

I believe this is where he came from. Another portal, then!

It all really got started with the breaking of The Bottle in The Barroom.

But which one?

Prognostication:

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0041, 0607, Alabama, RDR2

00370109

I arrived at the hotel and Duck was already there. I made peace with it. I tried to write but Duck kept quacking and shacking the floor. I took up read. The bag shushed loudly. It was tired of the quacking too. Nervous about meeting Mother.

The bed is a bathroom.

—–

A call interrupted my dream. I awoke in the same position as sleep, one seamlessly changing over into the other. Which was real I couldn’t help but ask. “Hallo?” It was Hucka D., wondering how I was. She wanted to join me as soon as possible, her other engagement ended. She wanted to come back home, if in a different part of the state. She wanted to reinvestigate… herself.

—–

I went back to sleep after playing “Gunn Mobile Home Trailer Park: Your Darkness” until 3 in the morning. Just to keep the boogieman away. I finally succumbed. Should have never played that game so long. I had another nightmare about The Void.

Only now I recall that Hucka D. will be arriving before tomorrow’s yesterday. And, yes, there she is. At the door. “Hallo, hallo?” she cried, knocking and knocking. I couldn’t get up out of the bed. I voided myself — disgusting. It was all over the place. I couldn’t let Hucka see me this way. “Hallo, hallo?” she cried, and then went away. I looked down. I was not disgusting. It was all a dream again. Caused by the Duck.

A call awoke me, real this time. It was Hucka D. She had been delayed by another project. She would instead be arriving Munday, a day which I knew didn’t exist — not one of the happy ones. The Duck quacked the bag shushed. Dreams…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0037, 0109, Alabama, Gold City, Jeogeot, New Mexico

another visitor

“Aahh, found it. This must be the portal.” A squeaking occurred. Rules of Rose looked around for a mouse. Then she remembered Norris. Just outside. He was speaking in his high register way. She adjusted for the tone, understood what was being said. He was asking about the portal.

“Just found!” she shouted through the window pane, painfully confusing in the double transparency with the Live Oak tree limb. “Why don’t you —” She was going to ask why didn’t he come in and see for himself. Then she remembered the rule. The rule *she* imposed, after all. No entering private residences by the wee’s. But *she* was here. She had that right — another rule. “Here.” She angled the laptop toward the window. “Can you see it now?” She understood that Norris requested she hold it in her hands up to the window. “Now how am I going to *type* on it if I’m *holding* it?” she inquired, staring out at him with a grimace. She edged the laptop a little closer — it was in danger now of falling off the side of the table if care wasn’t taken. Which it will be. Rules of Rose was always careful when entering residences, a seldom used loophole. But this was a special case. She had to find a certain object or thing inside the portal, which was the game in front of her, she realized. Gunn Mobile Trailer Park: Your Darkness. The gunn itself?

You may remember Rules of Rose as Blue Berry Girl from the last photo-novel, in disguise for the sake of a plot. She’s usually in disguise. This time ’round she gave her purple color to the bear.

Half an hour until the 1st service held at neighboring St. Merry’s Church ends and Herbert Gold returns to his new home. Probably not enough time to find the needed object. She’ll have to come back. Might as well end now….

—–

An object appeared in the middle of St. Merry’s church out of nowhere. Many parishioners later reported that they heard a *plop*, as if it fell from the sky.

Herbert Gold recognized what it was but said nothing.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0017, 0116, Alabama, Rose Heaven^^

02

Our Second Lyfe winked on. The other eye had been opened.

“Pierre, I mean, The Man About Time, had come down from Canada to US. He’d used the virtual continent of Maebaleia (alternately: Satori) to great effect, having helped forge an agreement between Lime World and World of Lemon in its central Hills of Bill. From this time forward, they would be sideways to each other, these two I’s.”

“These two eyes?” Grassy Noll interrupted Hucka Doobie. “What does that mean?”

Hucka Doobie pointed back and forth between Grassy and himself. “US.”

—–

A beautiful day was dawning in 7 Stones, Our Second Lyfe. Like always.

“F–k the gallery’s inventory list,” Danny Pajamy decides in his bedroom office. “I’m playing my *new* game again, he he. The one that won’t quit on me.”

Because of this he missed the sale of “Humanvillians” the day before and altered history.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0016, 0110, Alabama, Collagesity Fordham, Lower Austra^, Nautilus

Parasol 03

He sat on the throne a long time after he finished. He didn’t want to go back down. April Mae was pissed because *he* was pissed, one of those vicious cycles. But what did he really have besides the narrow boat-plane? She had her clothes, her friends, her furniture, her… paintings. Were they really her paintings? No, they had bought them together. The paintings were his as well. Kind of. Split, I suppose.

But… the scratch. Nay, more than a scratch, a scar. Car scar. She said she just ran into the dune — didn’t see it looming up in front of her when overshooting the cemetery. And why does she have to go out there to the Omega continent to visit her ex so often? She’s got *me* now. I’m the important, *living* one. She has to help protect *me*.

—–

Instead of going downstairs to continue arguing with his wife, Monsieur Gold decides to walk over to his study on the other side of the second floor to check his email account. Eventually, inevitably, he’s draw again to play that game on the laptop he’s so addicted to. We’ve seen it before: Gunn Mobile Home Trailer Park. He plays for about an hour until he’s pretty certain April Mae has simmered down. On his way to the stairs, he pauses to contemplate Monet’s “Woman with a Parasol” at the end of the hallway, one of two versions displayed in the mansion. One for him, one for his wife. Split.


“Oh. Hello dear. Sorry about before.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0012, 0108, Alabama, Purden/Snowlands^

centr-AL

Being the super tree genius genus she-he is, Core-Alena quickly found the secret way to The Basin and its Dead Sea already traversed by players Cloe Price, Eraserhead Man, and others. But the gun toting, glossy green avatar had to be ditched in the process. And a name had been decided upon: Alfred or Alfreda Mobile — Al for short. Sometimes in caps, depending on if you’re yelling (Where’s that Mustered?).

However, it took him-her another *5 years* to find a way back to Virtual from Reality inside the game. A straightaway on Foothill Drive just outside Kamas UT, another shout out. 1800 miles from AL where Mobile started. Marion and Francis equidistantly n-s of of the quaint, tourist town were of course the keys. Swamp Fox; Hidden Village. Virtual itself, or at least the Omega continent, the one that counts right now. Rhode made sure of that. Rhode Rhoad Road.

Driving up and down the connecting straightaway (known from here on just as The Straight), Reality to left, *potential* Virtual to right, Core-Alena understood that not one but several trees could act as a portal. All probably did. For example, what looks like a willow at 2013 Foothill Drive…

… and certainly this queer, leany evergreen at 1890.

Core-Alena just decides to pull in and try it tonight. Being a tree her-himself, it would be easy to pull back out. As long as The Straight is not too far. All trees know each other.

Ahh, yes. Home again! And this strip of land obviously acts as one of those Between Places she-he’s learned about.

But Core-Alena ends up using the 3rd spotted tree portal at 1719 for the final transition — a duo this time — because he-she can take the car this way, which seems essential. Just before Foothill Drive bends away from the portal line on the north side, unlinking Virtual and Reality. Just in the nick of time, in other words.

And soon to be in the middle of it all again.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0011, 0205, Alabama, The Straight^, Utah

Presidents’ Ball 04

“Money, get back / I’m all right, Jack / Keep your hands off my stack / New car / Caviar / Four-star daydream / Think I’ll buy me a football team.”

The gala crowd erupts, to which Sprite adds on top: “Tear down this wall, Mr. Orange!”. The crowd continues to clap. A “Tear Down The Wall” chant begins slowly, then builds, until Alo Bama takes the mic and motions everyone to calm down.

“*Freedom*. (pause) It’s what everyone wants, everyone cherishes.” Alo Bama indicates Sprite sitting back in the crowd. “Like our tree friend Mr. Sprite, waiting to be unencumbered by the shackles of The Wall, ready to join Wallytown as a *full* *fledged* *citizen*.”

The crowd claps enthusiastically again. “With inalienable rights,” he says over them, calming them down once more. “And established levels of treatment honoring decency, character (pause), respect.” “You go Alo!” someone shouts in the rear, prompting him to reply, “I’m going, I’m going. ” Scattered laughter is heard. “I’m telling it like it is.”

—–

“I thought you were going to dramatically change into Green Squirrel or Roger Pine Ridge or something to show who you really are,” spoke Natali seated beside Sprite now, his date for the night.

“Ahh, it just didn’t seem to fit the bill. Didn’t feel right. It was *my* poem and that’s what counts.”

“I suppose… oh he’s starting to talk about the Bottle Mound indians now.”

—–

“On the one hand,” Alo Bama extends his left arm and opens his hand. “Orange. On the other…” Alo Bama extends his other arm with the mic. “Purple… Violet, some say, although they prefer the former and we should respect (pause) their rights. And they’ve fought with each other, fought, fought, fought, down through the years, the centuries (pause). And what’s come of it, hmm?” A “free the trees” protest comes from the same person as before in the back. Alo Bama ignores it this time.

“Death is what came of it. And *disappearance* (pause) in time.”

—–

“You know he really is quite the orator,” opined Dr. I.C. Yourinsides to Captain Spocari. But when he didn’t respond she found that he’d fallen asleep.

“*Really* Captain. But I guess you’re all knackered out from this afternoon, hehe. Twice a day keeps the doctor okay.”

—–

“And now. (pause) The Mound. (pause) Comes here. Leemon or Leeman standing on the beach just beyond 1/2 refuses to even admit it is there. He can’t fully *see* (pause) this *new* New Island. The Greys *descend*…

… and fall backwards, face down (pause) in the sand.”

—–

“When’s he going to get to Jimmy?” whispers Billy Bloodsworth on a back couch to Lavender. “I can tell he’s nervous up there, ready to come out of his shell like Alo Bama and Bill C. did before him.”

“Be patient,” replies his sister-in-law. “He has to get to the point in his own, circular way. That’s what makes him such a great speaker.”

“Jimmy was better.”

“Nice of you to say.”

“He *was.*”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0010, 0704, Alabama, Wallytown/Fishers Island^

passage

“So you see, Chloe. It’s all about the interior to that game. This game within a game you are on about. The Basin. We must get beyond Dead Lake — both of them — and enter the place of the burning dog.”

“I don’t like that idea,” returned a worried, slumped over, arm crossed Chloe. “I just want to stay in the trailer park, shoot up some people, and then *leave*. I don’t want to find this door into a hidden place. Just leave me out of it.”

Sandy breathes out. “Okay, okay. I’ll try the other Chloe, then.”

“It won’t be any different.”

“It might.”

—–

“Soo Chloe. Whadda you knoow?”

“Get away. Playing on phone.”

“Just a couple…”

“GO AWAY, JEEZ.”

—–

“I suppose I owe you an apology.”

“Just leave me in the trailer park,” she reinforced.

—–

So he returned to EM at the blue painted coffee shop of Fishers Island, mission seemingly a failure. But EM thought otherwise.

“You got them thinking! They’ll come around. A seed has been *planted*.”

—–

The next time Chloe Price approached the end of the pavement representing the limit of the Gunn Mobile Trailer Park game…

… she suddenly recalled that thing about a glitch which allowed one to go further down this road — into the dirt part — all the way to a place called Dead Man’s Lake. No: just Dead Lake. Dead Sea, something. But it had to be done a certain way. Today, unlike yesterday or the day before or the day before that, etc., she decided it might be worth the risk. Checking back into the heart of the trailer park to make sure none of her enemies were following her (or were left alive, period)…

… she walks over and shoots her oh-so-familiar weapon at what looks like a weirdly shaped grey rock in front of her (the “glitch”). Not once, not twice, but three times.

She then sticks her gun into a suddenly opening black vortex, never to be held or used again.

The dirt road opens up before her. “Dead Sea — whatever — here we come!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0010, 0605, Alabama, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^