I think it will be a great creation. More long term than Collagesity Proper.
Chester:
Right-o. Carrcassonnee is here. Can you dig it?
BBloch:
Yes, I can Chester. (noting Carrcassonnee’s open eye): Hi Carrcassonnee.
Carr.:
Hello Baker. Glad Carrcassonnee can keep you company while I was away.
BBloch:
You mean Chester.
Carr. (blushing?):
Yes. Do you wish to talk further about Chesterton? Tell me what you want to speak with tonight. Tomorrow.
BBloch:
Kevin Durant?
Carr.:
Oh, you know. He went with the titles. Like LeBron. Didn’t trust Westbrook. Wanted more a team environment. He’s no different from Shaq, from others in a different age. He’ll be fine. But Oklahoma City will suffer.
BBloch:
That’s a shame.
Carr.:
Westbrook will obviously leave now. Westbrook was always leaving, probably for L.A.
BBloch:
Golden State seems unbeatable[ now].
Carr.:
They are. But it will be fun to root for the opposite team. Especially LeBron’s team. Good he slipped another championship in before this juggernaut formed.
Eddie wants a new mother. To that end, he cleverly manipulates his father’s relationships with women, sometimes even trying to set his father up to fall for women Eddie knows and likes first.
In part two of Collage 10, now called “Holey”, we see two namesake types. First is an actual hole — or half hole, really — that appears on the ground before a now leaning 12 Oz Mouse on the far left side of the collage.
I’ve limited the view here to the left side of Collage 10, focusing in on the 2 “holey” images themselves. Now the second one is something “holy” instead of “holey”. The most holy thing for many, in fact. This is the image of Baby Jesus appearing with Brak now. He cradles the illuminated infant in his berobed arms. It strokes his queer yellow beard. He becomes yet another father in this manner: St. Joseph, father of Jesus. This image is first found in my blog from last fall here:
In this same post we have a picture of the Maumee River basin, this stream formed by the conjunction of St. Joseph and St. Marys rivers at Fort Wayne, Indiana. You can see why I associate it with Jesus, then. The Holy Infant confuses his father for his mother. He is just a wee lad, not much removed from tadpole status. But is this his father, see? Isn’t God the Father? And so forth. So these 2 “holeys” appear on the left side of Collage 10, defining the tone of the picture reading it from left to right.
The Maumee River basin has showed up in a prior Stonethrow collage, or Collage 06 (“Beware (The) Heelers”), part 02 of the 2 section animation to be exact. There it’s covered by what’s called the Great Black Swamp, drained in the early to mid 1800s by settlers to the area.
You can again see Fort Wayne to the left and Toledo, at the Maumee’s mouth, to the right. The whole of the Maumee River was apparently submerged in or made one with this giant, dark marsh before the Great Drain. Very peculiar — and I didn’t know about this swamp until several months after creating that October post. I had other reasons to be drawn to that area (Rainbowology).
The image of the Great Black Swamp here covers the word “The”. The second part of the Collage 06 animation becomes just “Beware Heelers” instead of “Beware The Heelers” of part one. Collage 06 also contains a number of other Rainbowology elements, including Dorothy Gale, the Witch Mombi, and Ozma, all characters from Baum’s Oz mythology later found in the movie “Return to Oz”, the base for the earlier carrcass “SID’s 1st Oz” from 2002. The basic point of Collage 07 is that Ozma as true ruler of that fantasyland is able to symbolically drain the Great Black Swamp again by reversing Dorothy’s Fall highlighted in “Dark Side of the Rainbow”. This is the same as Dorothy (and Oz itself) being saved by TILE, a religion that has replaced X-ianity for me by becoming as much a philosophy and a board game as a religion per se. “Per se, Hucka D.” (pause) Not there.
And then on the *right* hand side of Collage 10 we again have the image of Dorothy falling off that confounding pigpen fence, animated this time. The second animation (below picture) shows Dorothy more in the actual state of falling, and this image again directly comes from Collage 07. The first Dorothy (above picture) is more in the process of losing her balance on this fence, causing the fall. “But through the magic of the collage, she instead falls off the roof of this white house, Hucka D.” (pause) Hmmm.
The orange m&m has “reappeared”, looking very concerned again like he did as a pendant image in the prior “Darth Redder” collage of this tetraptych. But this m&m, and his accompanying smaller rainbow colored clan of same tagging along behind him and then in front of him (as they too seem to fall) are actually a part of Collage 11, after Collage 10. I call this final collage of the tetraptych “Rainbow Men.”
Hucka D.:
This time we must now move quite yet into an interpretation of your Collage 11 beyond Collage 10 but focus on the latter. And good morning to you.
bb:
Thanks Hucka D. And thanks for showing up again to help me with this difficult and complex interpretation…
Hucka D.:
… of a difficult and complex work. But it’s not that complex. Just keep your thumb next to the line you next recite and you’ll do fine.
bb:
Stick to the [already written] script, eh.
Hucka D.:
Precisely. Now what are your next lines? Because you’re next up.
bb:
Tadpole?
Hucka D.:
No. Read the line to the *left* of your thumb instead of the right. You’re always confusing those directions. At least you usually get up and down right the first time. Or is it left?
bb:
We must focus on the White House.
Hucka D.:
Good. You’ve already established a racist lives there and that racist is Brak The King from Temple Farm, Marlborough, as featured in the Baker Bloch Heads To England exhibit from 2010, I believe. Blochhead. Bloch-head.
bb:
But you’re also saying that Brak represents the great loser state of Arkansas, or perhaps he hails from there.
Hucka D.:
Hell.
bb:
And you’ve always told me, ever since the beginning of my blogging days in the old Baker Blinker one, that Arkansas is the center and the focus and not let my attention stray too far north. Or *up*.
Hucka D.:
Down is where it’s at, yes.
bb:
Do you want to explain this further? I mean, just looking at [Collage 10], we have a dog stuck on the side of a wall — this is a Little Whitehead Art Collective creation once more — with a miniature Patrick Star of Spongebob Squarepants looking on with ice cream cone in hand. He’s just a big kid through and through. Then an even tinier Spongebob emerges from his pineapple home. (pause)
Hucka D.:
I can’t see that far down.
bb:
Here…
Hucka D.:
Thank you[ for showing me the whole picture]. “Holey”.
bb:
Patrick Star appeared in the Falmouth tetraptych that completed the 2013 Gilatona-Lis sequence of collages, Hucka D.
Hucka D.:
I remember. Vaguely.
bb:
Well, here he is in case you’ve totally forgotten.
Hucka D.:
Thanks once more. But if you’re going to rezz that whole [older] tetraptych then we’re going to have to stand back a bit.
bb:
Then I won’t do that.
Hucka D.:
Thanks yet again.
bb:
And Spongebob also showed up in earlier Gilatona-Lis works. And his pineapple home appears in the original Embarras collage (Embarras 01).
Hucka D.:
“Why?” I hear you asking in your mind. Well, to give the collages a bit of levity for one thing. The dog flies into the white house and becomes stuck like in flypaper. I must ask you: is this dog Spider? Carrcassonnee’s Spider that still sits in the Collage Temple beside his master, still spouting out the permutations of that hellish number 2130?
bb:
He’s not exactly the same color but it does appear to be a Chihuahua of similar shape and size. And Patrick Star hates Spiders — that’s another connection.
Hucka D.:
Maybe we better end on that humorous note. Yes, the dog is Spider. Yes, that’s why Patrick Star is there. Mr. Star is also a crop circle, as is Spongebob Squarepants… as are their 3 houses in a row if you throw in “trapped in the middle” Squidward and reduce all to the base of Patrick’s rock. [That’s all Morgan Hill crop circles.]
Sign for Neptune. Mirrors the Trident streams in extreme western Frank Park, and also Herman and Frank Parks taken together. But Neptune is unseen by the remainder…
… until Gene Fade reaches fabled Red Head and builds a dwelling place on the “northern” shore and calls it Neptune (or North Star). All that was unseen becomes seen with (one of his biographies), entitled “By Neptune’s Beard!”. Neptune becomes the outermost planet of our Solar System starting in 1846. It is the only one that cannot be C-een by the naked eye. It becomes a symbol of the darke night sky, then. Carrcassonnee.
Beyond the planets and into the darke night: stars. All revolves around North.
North Star was platted in 1852[6] along the road between Greenville and Celina, approximately midway between the two cities. Its name was derived from its location on the edge of the Great Black Swamp, as it was the northernmost point in Darke County that was not wetland.[7]
The Great Black Swamp is The Abyss, the static nothingness of the Universe all around us and through us and into us. Only TILE saves. TILE is the effect of the C-een planets on the nothingness. Tennessee.
But then, beyond TILE is Still(water) and beams of light.
And I borrowed the page
From a leopard’s cage
And I prowled in the evening sun’s glaze
Her head lifted high to the light in the sky
The opening dawn on her face…
Annie Oakley (August 13, 1860 – November 3, 1926), born Phoebe Ann Mosey, was an American sharpshooter and exhibition shooter. Oakley’s “amazing talent”[1] led to a starring role in Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show. Her timely rise to fame[2] allowed her to become one of the first American women to be a “superstar“.
In the 1850s the states began an organized attempt to drain the swamp for agricultural use and ease of travel. Various projects were undertaken over a 40-year period. Local resident James B. Hill, living in Bowling Green, Ohio, in the mid-19th century, made the quick drainage of the Black Swamp possible with his invention of the Buckeye Traction Ditcher.[6] Hill’s ditching machine laid drainage tiles at a record pace. The area was largely settled over the next three decades. The development of railroads and a local drainage tile industry are thought to have contributed greatly to drainage and settlement (Kaatz, 1955).
Yes, it’s obvious. The 2 Hermans of Craighead County, AR, one on a Herman topo map and one on a *Tru*mann topo map. Herman Munster, ol’ Flattop, is not a true man. He is a [composite] monster.
There are 2 Hermans in Winesap. This is also obviously referred to here. Is there more proof of this? Of course. We have Winesap in the same county, and one of only 2 in the country, the other being in Ohio. We have a Fisher, with another in the county below, almost directly south. Fisher-Herman. Fisherman. Obvious.
But Herman also refers to Herman Park. But Herman Park refers to the 2 Hermans of Winesap. It’s a circle, or a triangle. Triangle within a circle.
Herman Park was built around Tile Creek, known to non-Tilists as mundane Yards Creek, spewing forth in an Appalachian Spring from Yards Mtn.
PEI’s Appalachian Spring
That’s Red Head soon to run into a Greenhead roadblock, quickly resolved. Greenhead is where the bird beat the bug. Hucka Doobie was a martin bird. Bird Wax instead of Bee Wax. Isn’t that right Hucka D.? Never mind. I know I figured it out. You transformed from a bee into a bird.
Hucka D.:
Almost.
bb:
Stay on course.
Hucka D.:
Yes.
bb:
What is the relationship between Green Stream and TILE Creek? Are they the same? Or, better, is Green Stream the *new* TILE Creek? Given that Red Head begins it all, and Red Head starts 4orrin1 [and the flow of an Appalachian stream] as seen above. Red Head transforming temporarily to Greenhead — and I’ve been thinking about this — is the confluence of the former with the Whitehead Crossing matrix. Assimilation. Whitehead Crossing is home for poor little orphaned Anne, even though she was suppose to be a boy (as Red Head is most logically Greenhead and visa versa, since it’s on Green Stream and Greenhead is on Red Brook instead). Then in the next synch carrcass, Frank’s Moving Mountain, we have the same dialog reappearing. But instead it’s Howl whose hair has turned an awful shade of green.
Hucka D.:
We’re getting off course.
bb:
Sorry. Could there even be significance to the poem Anne is reading at the beginning of the synch carrcass and film as one?
Stanzas five to eight describe the lady’s life. She suffers from a mysterious curse, and must continually weave images on her loom without ever looking directly out at the world. Instead, she looks into a mirror, which reflects the busy road and the people of Camelot that pass by her island.
Modern critics[citation needed] consider The Lady of Shalott to be representative of the dilemma that faces artists, writers, and musicians: to create work about and celebrate the world, or to enjoy the world by simply living in it.
Bloom (City) is also near both Boaz KY and Boaz WI, and thus also near Metropolis/Gotham. Blooming flowers are often put on graves. Bloom pop places have already arisen in this Frank and Herman Einstein! Blog here.
“First off, Hucka D., there’s this tiny place called Bloom just north by northeast of Winfield in Carroll County, Maryland, the one already identified as next to Legos Choice which brings up an assoc. with Winfield, Kansas in Cowley County there.”
Hucka D.:
Correct. When you looked up Bloom, Chicago Heights came up as a variant name in a rather short list. Cool! Wonder who did that (snickers)?
bb:
Yeah, and in researching our magical book came up with this yesterday… called the first successful adaptation of the book.
Well, you better not delay, and look up Winesburg, then. Why don’t you broaden it with Wines/. That’ll catch the sap.
The Bloom in Graves Co., KY is unlisted, thus historical. It is a Dead Bloom.
Also appropriate here may be Bloomer, as here in Madison County, IN:
First, notice the Anderson county seat.
Aroma, Lapel, Bloomer
Not shown: Clare + Fisherburg. Results: Dead, as in Six Feet Under. Bloom, Lapel, Aroma: obviously an undertaker’s carnation or equivalent. Additional note: Anderson is a Father Figure. Anderson is the author of Winesap. That’ll catch it.
Claire Simone Fisher (1983 – 2085, age 101) — The youngest lived to be the oldest. Claire went on to become a world-renowned photographer and even taught at NYU. Her obit says she had numerous memorable magazine covers. Taking her mother’s advice to be a strong woman, she never took her husband Ted’s last name, presumably because she married him later in life and didn’t want to change it in light of her successful career. Stylistically, two things stand out for me as we watch Claire pass. One is that the future doesn’t look all that futuristic. The second? Claire’s eyes. She must have had cataracts or something similar because they’re glossed over, white, and devoid of life. How sad to think that the one thing she needed to truly achieve her art was taken from her. She couldn’t see any of the pictures she had shot in her final years.
Just like that, Six Feet Under was over. Now’s your chance to sound off. TV Squad only sort of covered this show when it originally aired (well before my tenure here), but I’m curious to know what every thinks. Am I off in saying this is the best series finale ever? Do you think everyone’s death did their character justice? Watch the final moments first if you need to jog your memory and remember, “Everything. Everyone.
This brings us back to Chuck or Charles, since the video in the link makes a direct synch with perhaps his most famous of all tunes: Constantinople. Try it and see!
Constantinople = Death. And so it begins (again).
Waits 4 No 1.
Fishers of men(1), fishers of men
Up one side and back again
Along the river of men
When you get a Scarlet in Orange County next to Georgia and Mitchell, you think of O’hara. Not the airport. Don’t say I don’t know nothing about birthing no map synchs!
bb:
I won’t GNIRPS. And thank you again for your contributions to the Frank and Herman, Einstein! blog.
Orangeville points out Orange County, Indiana home of basketballhead legend Larry Bird. Scarlet in northwest corner of same county. Near Scarlet, WV is Bias, like Lenny Bias. Larry Bird and Lenny Bias: twins. Orange basketballhead twins, highlighted in scarlet. Third Scarlet (GA) near Seals(ton). This is, once again, the Scarlet Triangle.
I think TF might like this blog, or at least appreciate the bumbling effort I’m putting forth.
—–
MORE:
On the evening before that stormy Thursday night when the Reverend Curtis Hartman sat in the bell tower of the church waiting to look at her body, young Willard had gone to visit the teacher and to borrow a book.
Dr. Krystal Bowden, the grown-up daughter of Curtis Morell, the remorseless killer seminarian-turned-shamus Owen Keane helped to lock up in The Lost Keats (1993), wants Owen to come out to Rapture to investigate the disappearance of elderly herbalist Prestina Shipe, evidently carried off in the middle of her breakfast.
The Owen Keane series are contemporary novels whose main character dropped out of a Roman Catholic seminary based on the School of Theology at St. Meinrad Archabbey. The series contains seven novels and one collection of short stories:
Saint Meinrad is an unincorporated census-designated place in Harrison Township, Spencer County, Indiana, along the Anderson River and just off Interstate 64. It is home to the St. Meinrad Archabbey. It is situated about 55 miles east of Evansville. Because of the archabbey, St. Meinrad, along with Harrison Township, lies within the Archdiocese of Indianapolis instead of the much closer Diocese of Evansville, in which lies the rest of Spencer County.
adjective
1.
deeply engrossed or absorbed:
a rapt listener.
2.
transported with emotion; enraptured:
rapt with joy.
3.
showing or proceeding from rapture :
a rapt smile.
4.
carried off spiritually to another place, sphere of existence, etc.
We enter through “apt”, which leads to rapt which implied rapture per above definition. We begin, in others words, in Arkansas, the end (at least before the 3rd US tile, beginning in Maryland). We must show this up front. Then this…
That’s the only rapt/ in the US, population place wise. There’s also only one rapt/ in Winesap, and it is also the only apt/, remembering this.
Apt just below Jonesboro
Rapture IN has a lone variant name of Winfield. It has come up in this list before, along with wick/ and also, perhaps meaningful now as well, Gate City VA.
Here’s the matching Winesap sentence again…
The piece of glass broken out at the corner of the window just nipped off the bare heel of the boy standing motionless and looking with rapt eyes into the face of the Christ.
So I suppose we could actually leave AR alone at the beginning of tile 3 and just introduce “rapt” through not “Apt” (AR) but Rapture as variant name of Winfield in IN. Cool — multiple ways to get to the same idea.
Rapture is an unincorporated community in Posey County, Indiana, United States.[1] Rapture is located on Indiana State Road 68, between Poseyville and New Harmony.
The community was originally called “White’s Settlement”, and is one of the oldest communities in Posey County.[2] It was laid out in 1838 by John Cox, and became known as “Winfield”, and also “Bugtown”.[3] Cox Creek run through the community.[4]
CNN reported in 2011 that just one person lives in Rapture, where they own a home, rental property and airplane hangar.[5] The airplane landing strip is known as “Bugtown Airport”.[6]
Rapture was the setting for Terence Faherty’s 1999 novel The Ordained.[7]
Interesting. So I checked out Faherty’s The Ordained. Here’s a blurb from amazon.com…
In 1844, a religious sect founded a small town and held its breath for the Second Coming, when the faithful would be carried to heaven. One hundred and fifty years later, they’re still waiting. Then three people disappear–and some think the prophecy is finally coming true. Ex-seminarian turned sleuth Owen Keane thinks there’s a more corporeal explanation, something to do with a convicted killer’s parole hearing–because there’s nothing very divine about a cold body in a shallow grave. Martin’s Press.
Itinerant sleuth Owen Keane’s life has taken some abrupt turns in five previous novels (The Lost Keats, Deadstick, etc.), which have chronicled a believable life odyssey and delivered a handful of satisfying mysteries. He’s lost his religious faith, his girl and most of his more loving impulses. Now Owen is in Indiana to testify at the parole hearing for convicted killer Curtis Morell–to make sure the parole doesn’t happen. Owen runs into Morell’s daughter Krystal, the local doctor in Rapture, a town founded by a religious sect which, a century and a half ago, held its breath for a Second Coming. Waiting in vain, most of the faithful remained in Rapture, devoting their lives to making ornately artistic coffins. Now, after an older woman and then a young man vanish, followed by Krystal herself, many see signs of urgent summonses from God. A local woman even claims to see lights in the sky. But the Rapture cops and Steve Fallon, a DEA official, have a more earthly explanation for the lights: drug planes are descending on Rapture. Is there a new kind of ecstasy to be found in this sleepy town? Without credentials, Owen functions on the fringe of the investigation. He talks to the chilling Morell and gets shot down flying shotgun in a small plane. He takes to Krystal and clashes with Fallon. He scoffs at the notion that aliens are flashing lights but accepts the dignity with which the believers once waited for their miracle of deliverance. He’s an odd bird in an equally odd series, one that is consistently low-key, gently thoughtful and enlightening. (Dec.)
The Town of Stuart was first incorporated as Taylorsville, Virginia, in 1792, in honor of early settler George Taylor. Stuart has been the county seat of Patrick County since the county’s formation from Henry County, Virginia in 1791.
Taylorsville was incorporated as a town in 1884 and was renamed Stuart in honor of Confederate Major General J.E.B. Stuart, who was born 20 miles west of town in Ararat, Virginia.
Sunklands 