“Sorry I’m late.”
Just in the nick of time.
“You don’t know it (*grunt*), but I’m helping you, artist of mine, from the Great Beyond (*grunt grunt grunt*). Hang in there (PANT PANT) Old Wheeler!”
Category Archives: Canada/Tungaska
00500511 (through the trees)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0511, Boos, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, Google Street View, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS, Pennsylvania
00500510 (Pansy update)
Another Bigfoot spotted in not the US but Canada now, on Saskatchewan Street in Tugaske in Saskatchewan. Saskatchewatch, then! (Sasquatch + Saskatchewan) Or, better, Saskwatch, thinking of the abbreviation of the province’s name. I’ll recheck this area more later…
But first: the same town pictured in Boos again, as in gallery, as in Nawt Vaya Free State bordering the Nawt Vaya Sea in the western part of the Jeogeot continent of Our Second Lyfe. 3rd floor. Attempted vandalism of the art within, just like at the gallery formerly known as Concrete down by the sea in Cement Village. I suppose Boos is a part of Cement Village too since the front door opens in that direction (I’ll work on it). Is this the same vandal dressed in a hazmat suit now like he’s preparing for a journey inside the vast bounds of a Back Rooms situation? And what of the anime looking girl beside him. Accomplice? Turns out she’s merely working through him, as in a prop. Controller, then. That way the blame can theoretically be taken off her if needed. She’s only walking up to the vandal, wondering what he’s doing. Is this the artist of the work himself, here to make some late game changes or spiff ups? That kind of defense.
“Uh oh, keystone cops coming, Mortimer. We better switch over to our act. A-HEM. I SAID. What are you doing to this piece of ART here? Are you the ARTIST?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0510, Back Rooms, Boos, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, Cement Village, Google Street View, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
00500509 (… from Mars)
—–
“Well… there they are. Martian boos in equal parts black and white, amassing above poor little Tungaske from the east, buildings seemingly numbered for conquest purposes. City limits threatened to become cemetery limits; no one left to live here.
“Only the west can save them, switching dawn to dusk. Bigfoot.”
And so it went down in the small Canadian hamlet. Artists, thank gods for artists.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0509, Boos, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, New Island, NVFS, Omega
Boos 27 and 26 (“2 Fer 1”)
“It’s one of the ones that we had to give up when we moved to Rooster’s Peninsula here, Hucka Doobie. But as you can see, there’s (Mr.) Bean, there’s Tom (Kite) — front and center here. Combined: Tom Bean.”
“Fascinating,” Hucka Doobie admitted. “So we go back to Tungaske? Canada?”
“Ontario at least,” replied Baker Bloch.
“Ahh. Picturetown.” Hucka Doobie suddenly felt sorry she/he wasn’t directly a part of those Canadian based collage series, the In and the Out. With his/her analysis, I mean.
Baker turns. “You seem to be changing back into a bee-man,” he observed.
“Admittedly I’m slipping. A bit.”
Poor Hucka Doobie. If you don’t nurture a character and pay attention to them, they tend to atrophy. Hucka Doobie became stuck on Baker Bloch, unable to deal with the stuff happening all around her/him. What does that say about me (though)?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0407, Canada, Canada/Picturetown, Canada/Tungaska, Nautilus, NORTH, Rooster's Peninsula
disattached from land
“Can’t you pull one of your Tungaske type miracles to save my village?”
“I’m afraid not. Too small.”
She shed a tear, perhaps with more to come. Probably so. These were scientist tears, the tough ones. “Hard to believe it’s gone.”
“No one under 18. Really nothing we can do [Eyela]. (pause) I’m sorry.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0314, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, Iowa, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Squared Root City-
00330108
The elimination of George.
Harrison remains. *Barely*.
“They got his knee, which knocked out the rest of his leg — sorry. A thumb was missing from the hand but they were able to regrow it with the intact others. Don’t ask about the procedure. It’s messy, complicated. But without that hand, that regrowth…”
“He wouldn’t be able to play the guitar,” the other in the room finished for Dr. Diper, fresh from the surgery. “Thank you.”
“The red and green almost got him this time,” warned the doctor. “Best not to send him back out to war.”
“Oh, we won’t. Denisce just made a bad decision sending him over there. It’s in her name, you know, bad and good.”
The doctor paused with this, then said, “oh yeah,” as he got it. “Denisce. I forgot it could be spelled that way.”
“Almost,” replied the other. Probably Marty at this point, since he’s so concerned with the hand and its dexterity. “Will he lose any chords? I don’t mean vocal chords obviously (Dr. Diper snickers here, since both knew the head wasn’t involved — nice break in the seriousness) but guitar chords. Can… will he be able to play…”
“All your songs,” the doctor finishes a sentence in turn. Like tennis they were this day, battering concerns back and forth across a net that is the separation between people. Good and bad. Sometimes it’s absolutely necessary. “Wellll.”
Nurse Jem comes in, celebratory drinks in hand. Vodka for Diper and a, let’s see, Russian Roulette for Marty, a new drink he claimed to have concocted on the spot back at the hotel after the San Francisco concert in Candlestick Park, knocking it out alongside a couple of new ditties: the embryonic form of “Back in the USSR” and the unreleased and seldom heard “Moby Prick”. A baad song, Georgge Martin proclaimed upon hearing it back in England. “Hey, we’re the f-ing Beetles, Martin. Leave us alone!” exclaimed Marty after the judgment, but then the others admitted it was sour instead of sweet too and he let the matter drop, song unrefined and left in a raw, unprocessed form. They all secretly felt it was about Marty and his character, though, but to voice this out loud would be character assassination. He was just that much of a prick. At the time — he mellowed out later. After he died.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0108, Canada, Canada/Picturetown, Canada/Tungaska, Jeogeot, Towerboro
fused
Accompanied by the music of Certain Death playing on the turntable, an old, religious man reads slightly pornographic manga well into the night. Did it in Kowloon where he came from, doing it here. Nothing wrong.
In another part of Horns, Jacob’s I awakes from the dead, as it were, and rolls his stiffened neck. “Ugggh. Where *am* I?”
Kick-ass Bogota’s long vigil is over. He can rejoin his brother Boos, wherever he is at the moment, probably Red’s Diner.
Yes: Red’s.
Bigfoot is a hot topic tonight. A giant spool has now been rolled onto an artist’s location and made into a firepit. Staring into the flames one last time, Kick-ass takes his leave before Jacob I. realizes who he is.
spotted
If our timing is right, a green shoe should come into view about here.
There!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0203, Bogota, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, collages 2d, Google Street View, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Picturetown
meteor from space
“Maybe there are good Boos and bad Boos,” offered up Harrison Ford Jett, still learning about and absorbing the impach. His precious Bluebird!
“Maybe,” said back brilliant Fern Stalin, his counterpart, his mentor for tonight. But she kept thinking of Mistery Island and how to get back there. “You better get back to her; she’ll be waiting. And you better cook up a pretty good explanation why you suddenly had to leave her side. And don’t mention Boos!”
“Okay.” They split after that, not leaving any firm plans for a future rendezvous. It’s possible, Fern realized, that she’d seen the last of Harrison. Or at least those apples. Decision paths lie just ahead…
“Don’t be a stranger,” she cryptically ended and was gone.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0117, Boos, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, collages 2d, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus
left and right
“It probably started here,” stated Fern, showing the origin of the Boos. “In, let’s see, collage #13 — unlucky 13 in this case — of the Boos series. Boos came from Boos — Illinois that is.”
“That’s next to Indiana and its famous Dunes,” chipped in Harrison Ford Jett, eager for knowledge tonight.
“Correct. Anyway, the Boos come from the planet Mars. There was a failure — in Tungaske as we’ll keep calling it — to create a working, proper *sphere* by several of its artists, a joint effort. Sphere of Space if you will. An abnormality set in; in ways these are the two moons of Mars, Phobos and Deimos, terror and dread, explaining the faces. Rust probably represents Ida B. Wells from Rust College, who was a champion of freedom: diagonal (echoing some former talk they had concerning Bellisaria). The Boos ate the freedom, took it away from them. The Boos are the elitists, also explaining the white-wash color. They proceed horizontally beyond the edge and into the world itself. Evil has been let loose — again.”
“Who is the man in the water?” queried Harrison. He was a band member on the run, trying to get as far away from Bluebird as possible tonight, an ironically named character it seems. Bluebird of misery instead, misery and mystery in one. Mistery. So said Fern.
“Man on the fringe; man watching fringe, man *from* Fringe. Peter I believe. Watching the Boos do their evil doings, the Rust girl perched precariously on the rust colored cliffs — gone. He sticks, lets see, he (as the Spaceman) sticks his hand in a hole and it is gone — just below where the girl *use* to be. The missing hand symbolizes the missing girl, hmm. And missing pieces of Mars, moons.”
Harrison glances sideways. He’s eager to get to the next collage in the Boos series and be done with it. Boos attack! But… well, let’s just let Fern talk for herself.
“And here we are.” They spread out from each other, just as the Boos, black and white, spread out in the sky above Tungaske, (numbered buildings) ready for conquest.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0028, 0116, Boos, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, collages 2d, Collagesity Fordham-, Lower Austra, Nautilus
Sunklands 