Category Archives: Illinois

October 7, 2025 · 6:29 am

00480304

“Soo. I gotta ask this, Frank. Is Mouse your *boyfriend* now or something?”

“Noooo.” But he was thinking: Might as well be. We’re stuck together up here it seems. Until Mouse learns his lesson; could take a while, he knew. A looong while. “How’s your *girlfriend* doing, Philip?” Frank thinks to ask in turn, knowing Nada and he were still going through some difficulties.

“Oh, she’s okay.” Philip was concentrating on his pinball prowess, Frank doing the same with his piano. Spongeberg’s Invention #4… so difficult to get the fingering down! In other words, neither were paying much attention to what they were saying to each other. Typical. Not really feeling the other’s pain.

More dinging and clanging from Philip, more fingering from Frank. Philip was trying to beat Mouse’s high score for the month. Frank was also trying to beat a score in a way. Spongeberg’s Invention set down on paper. He feels the notes swirling before him like an angry mob, ready to leap out of the page and take over his mind, his castle, everything. 1000 points to go for Philip. 1000 notes to go for Frank. Or so.

“Listen, Frank. I wonder if you could ask the *Pooping Pigeon* up there to turn down the video feed. It’s as loud as my pinball machine and I’m standing right before it!”

“I’ll try.” Middle C, he thinks. It all revolves around Middle C.

After a couple of moments, Philip reiterates his request. But just then Mouse returns to “Earth” to test out a new resonant center he’d found in one of his many Youtube poop videos he’d saved to his various playlists. New Hampshire and Vermont, he ponders while heading down. I think I know where this is leading to!

(to be continued)

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September 16, 2025 · 12:30 pm

00480203

Turns out there was a Locust Street here in Fieldon and then another Locust St. in Fidelity, its opposite on the Illinois circle pictured in that last post. The only shared street name between the two small towns. When I “beamed down” through Google Street View to the north end of the latter, I immediately found this.

Was it as easy as that? Yellow Guy referenced, who was born and raised in this very state? I traced the internet company’s origins back to O’Fallon a little over an hour’s drive away. Nothing to do with my old friend. But still the, aherm, *connection* seemed pertinent.

Another of these promo signs off Locust St., Fidelity style.


I decided to recheck Locust St., Fieldon in Google Street View to see if I could spot any additional oddities cropping up since my last scan several years back, just like I’d tracked up and down its double in Fidelity today. Nothing really jumped out at me except this house which seemed to have turned 90 degrees between 2021 and 2024. Is this normal? I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason for doing this, right?

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September 16, 2025 · 12:30 pm

00480202

“Investigation?”

“Yeah, like Perry Mason. We… probably have to bring back Duncan A. if so.” I hesitated because I knew [baker b.] would be uncomfortable with this. The Green Dude was suppose to be dead, like that guy in the blue and yellow teepee also initialed A. But yet he lives. And so, probably, does Duncan. A way to remember him by.

—–

“I know this man!” says Martell Mandell out loud. She couldn’t help it. “Tom!”

“Harry, actually,” Abby Abdominator across from her mildly corrected. “Harry the Bartender. Projection,” he tried to explain the confusion as best as possible.

“We’ve got to send him back. We’ve got to go back inside!”

“Indeed,” responded the grey alien who doubled as her boss at Star Team Interplanetary located in the southern part of the Omega continent. One of the higher ups but not the highest. That would be Dick.

(to be continued)

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September 16, 2025 · 12:29 pm

00480201 (Art Line)

How CAN I reach you?

Answer:

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August 10, 2024 · 2:52 pm

00430613

“If you were smart, you’d figure out more about the 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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March 31, 2024 · 8:30 am

00420406 (LSD (strutt’n Struthers))

“Sato is from the North.”

“From the North.”

—–

“She’s pretty good — ‘Classical Gas’ I believe. But her yellow-ish skin doesn’t show up well against the yellow background. NEXT!”

“What’s this electro-crap?” spoke Martha Lamb/Wheeler to Baker Bloch, who was helping out again. Wonder what happened to former helper Newt? Anyway, he answered: “It’s Osamu Sato, a very important figure now in the blog, or at least the current photo-novel. 42. Remember? We were suppose to answer everything in this one?”

“How’s that going?” said Wheeler to this. Very predictable. And right on the mark.

“And it’s played by Kangarootown’s very own Okama Majo. Very close. Maybe the same.”

“Alright,” Martha Lamb/Wheeler relented. “If you insist.”

“Arkansaw hog calling by a Fayetteville boy named Don — insisted on standing in front of the stage to what he called, ‘have more impact on the audience'”

“Absolutely,” judged Martha Lamb/Wheeler, not needing to hear more than a couple of ‘SUUUUUUEEEEEY!’s.

And then, ahem, Shelley Johnston Struthers to end. Had to be.”

“Always wanting the spotlight,” Martha Lamb/Wheeler started the complaints. “‘Strawberry Fields’ again from the sound of it.”

“Actually it’s ‘Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds’… to go along with the Osamu Sato stuff.” The chorus started.

“Ah yes, I see. Comes with Osamu? I mean, Okama? From Kangarootown? Golden Jim?”

“Yes,” answered Baker Bloch plainly.

“Okay, let’s see them all together now. Even the one I rejected. I’ve changed my mind.”

“There’s one more figure we need to fit in make it all work,” said Baker, who didn’t elaborate but perhaps didn’t need to. Linen. So close to Lennon as Okama is to Osamu. Shelley wasn’t actually singing anymore. Just channeling.

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December 9, 2023 · 11:30 am

00410302

She put away the guitars and got serious. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she practiced, not having an audience yet. It was only 5 in the afternoon and her gig wasn’t until 8. She’d have to eat first of course; make it a past participle before the actual playing began. At the same time, the audience should begin dining on sole food, that particular fish being the catch of the day here in Portuguese Hill village formerly of Illinois, US of A. Where they found *her*. “Ladies and gentleman, simmer down,” she continued imaging the applause coming her way after the song “Rockaway Beach,” a crowd favorite as usual. “I have an announcement to make.”

—–

“Your painting looks very pretty over there, dearest. I see you haven’t used any green yet. That’s good. Stay away from green. And oil. Stick to watercolors.”

“Of course my dear. Those times are in the past.” She apparently couldn’t see the bit of green he used in the couple of village trees from this distance — good. This made him think of Mr Babyface, his old flame. Lost at sea in a craft of too small design. At least he went doing what he loved. Sucked up by a rare water funnel in that area, they said. Glug glug glug, he imagined. Glug glug glug — GONE. The boat was later thrown up on the shore of Kenfield but the short man with the large face was no longer with it, fishing off the port side, fishing off the starboard side, fishing off the bow, the stern. He loved fishing in all its positions. He’d eat his sole later on in honor of him, he decided.

“Did you like my speech at the end? Too serious?”

Yeah, past and also present lover Greg Ogden had reservations about all that. “Don’t you, I mean, what if a member of the Portuguese navy is part of your audience? Gets back to headquarters, say. You could be in trouble (!).”

“I said what I had to say, though. Atlantis is rising in that part of the Azores. All the locals know it, the *government* knows it. They just want to cover it up, the hierarchy. The locals won’t stand up to them either, at least publicly. *Someone* has to take a stance. Might as well be me. I have a platform.” She briefly indicated the stage behind her. The former cover band cover girl now striking out on her own with strikingly original compositions popping forth right and left, backwards and forward. The announcement fits right in with all that, he realized. Unique, he summarized it in a word. Like a perfectly square pyramid perfectly aligned with the 4 cardinal directions, waiting to be revealed in all its past and also present glory.

“*And* — I think we should announce the news of our re-engagement if you don’t mind; make that public as well. Hand in hand.” She takes his hand from beneath the table, holds it tight. The double announcement was a go.

(to be continued)

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May 4, 2023 · 3:38 pm

lordy lordy lordy

“Nah, I think you boys have it backwards. Go back and check. Pull Ted in with you this time, John, since he has the better peepers. Go up the stairs or down the stairs or however you do it — together.”

“Down,” said John to this. “I always head down.”

“Well there you go.” And Al was finished with the story for now and waved them outta his palatial office. Tom showing up in 1/2 an hour, one the more uppity uppers. He had to prepare, emotionally as well as mentally. Brace himself for what is coming.

The truck that had turned lime green in the meantime arrived at the Dorr’s house in Tyrone, New Mexico just south of mural filled Silver City where it was rented day before yesterday’s last week by the Horns.

Finally united for a common cause, they cautiously made their way up to the azure blue front door, Horns of Hatton activated. They paused at the bushes; peered around the corner to see what Good they were up against. The portal opened creakily from the other side. They turned away just in the nick of time. They noticed one of the angels was sight challenged — in shadow — while the other with his big, lidless eyes definitely could see the truck if not them. They had made a huge mistake in driving it here.

“Dude,” read that one to the other in the doorway. “Not Dud. Al was right. It wasn’t the *past*. It’s the *future*.”

The Devil couldn’t get away with it this time. He’d have to exit Grant. He took depossession of the body. Grant was saved by the powers of the door. Of the Dorrs.

(to be continued)

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April 16, 2023 · 12:06 pm

Tyrone

No azure door here, Hucka, but a reflection of a door across the road, garage in that case. Interesting patterning.

And almost across the road from that: an anomaly. Doesn’t clear up using any angle of view.

Then looking the opposite direction: ladder boy, we’ll call him, someone who seems to have unusually short legs for his stature, the opposite of what a basketball player might possess. Illusion, as it turns out from other directions, but perhaps still meaningful given all else. His head overlaps the ladder’s bottom rung. Dressed in Azure. Are we suppose to climb further in order to find the true door? (no answer) Or are we suppose to look sideways from what we are doing? (no answer) Maybe some combo of Heaven and Hell we’re looking for, hmm.

Then in going to a handy realty site called redfin.com, we find the actual Azure Door for the house… and in digging deeper we find the residence is owned by a Door. Actually Dorr but close enough.

A personal business of some kind this was suppose to be, but no more info than that in my searchings.

Through the same site we can check out the place via drone video, taking it in from every angle like a 3d cubist painting. The blurred house in Google Streetview across the way turns out to be quite ordinary looking. Wonder why that occurred? We can guess: substitution.

As we keep flying around, we spot the Horns coming around the corner of Woo and Crab Wood and Chuck in their Real Life silver(-blue) truck rented in Silver City. Once again they’ve been expected.

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February 12, 2023 · 6:30 pm

00370102

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/East_Lynne

The novel was first staged as Edith, or The Earl’s Daughter in New York in 1861[1] and under its own name on 26 January 1863 in Brooklyn; by March of that year, “three competing versions were drawing crowds to New York theaters.”[4] The most successful version was written by Clifton W. Tayleur for actress Lucille WESTERN, who was paid $350 a night for her performance as Isabel Vane.[4] Western starred in East Lynne for the next 10 years.[4] At least nine adaptations were made in all, not including plays such as The Marriage Bells that “used a different title for the sake of some copyright protection.”[5]

As the more melodramatic aspects of the story became dated, there were several parodies and burlesques made, including East Lynne in Bugville with Pearl White (1914), Mack Sennet’s East Lynne with Variations (1917), and in 1931 the comedy East Lynne on the WESTERN Front in which British soldiers fighting in the World War I stage a burlesqued version of the story.[2]

“Westeasterners (open the book (1931))”:

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