Category Archives: Kentucky

triptych interpretation 02 of 02

Hucka D.: In 4b, like we said before, the boy at the tree with the Tintown sign looks down at the missing letter, the missing Y that makes it Tinytown, which it is. I should also say that Tinytown no longer exists, another victim of the pandemic. Like Sissy’s most likely.

Baker B.: Good. Mortons Gap is emptying of meaning.

Hucka D.: I think you want to bring up the 2 PLACEs.

Baker B.: I think that’s taken care of in the text of the photo-novel before, Hucka D.

Hucka D.: 2 PLACEs at once (Hucka D. presses). This is another pointer leading to the triptych. It all leads there.

Baker B.: Okay, good.

“Adventures in Tintown Part 4b of Tin”

Hucka D.: 4b, then. The people with the narrow woman from 4a, most likely her family, have their faces covered by white ovals. To their right we have a ring of ghosts, also with oval white faces or heads. You made the association, thus the triptych continues to the right and not the left at first. You insert the smallest Tintown sign in the darkness behind the ghosts and the whited out face people (in 4a), a mother and her child perhaps. Maybe the narrow girl is the same woman’s daughter.

Baker B.: One of the faces is round and not ovoid. Can you comment on that?

Hucka D.: This is the middle of another simple 2 part collage that you prepared in anticipation of the triptych, although you didn’t know it at the time. The middle head becomes round, and with two oranges eyes, it appears. That’s about all I can say about it for now.

Baker B.: Thank you. Then moving on, we shift from Mortons Gap Kentucky to Tin Town Missouri, from a batch of old photos by, let me see, Russell Lee, who is famous for such things.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russell_Lee_(photographer)

Hucka D.: Pie Town, New Mexico, I note in the article. Pietmond.

Baker B.: Right. Blast from the past.

Hucka D.: Lets move to 4c, the last panel which will bring us back to the first.

“Adventures in Tintown Part 4c of Tin”

Hucka D.: Selves, you’ll notice, in the collage, not Self. There is more that one Self. There are 3 in this collage, according to size. The second is 61/100ths the size of the first. The third and last is 61/100ths the size of the second. Although these 3 come in 5 bodies, there are only 3 heads, matching the 3 Selves. Two have been cut off. You sure that Shelley is okay? She’s very important.

Baker B.: I know — extraordinary. She’s okay.

Hucka D.: What are these Selves, then? You find them in Tin Town MO which originally was named Gold. Ronnie Self the rockabilly wannabe star who didn’t quite get there. But he lends his name to the Triptych. He too is part of this (process).

Baker B. (after a pause): The ratios seem important. If we assume a steady reduction, the first is 100, then the second is 61, then the 3rd would be 37.21 almost exactly (checks). No: *exactly*.

Hucka D.: Extraordinary.

Baker B.: Then the simple 2-n-1 collage Barry Deboy holds in the last post before you showed up for our interpretation, Hucka D. (Mortons Gap sign/ “Does this look square to you?”), is the last element inserted here, cutting off 2 of the 5 heads…

Hucka D.: But adding 2 of its own heads (nutcrackers on sign). One obviously truncated (pause). You sure?…

Baker B. (guessing what the bee-man was going to say): Yeah, she’s all right. Anything else?

Hucka D.: I was going to ask you the same thing. Oh — Bat Boy. Zebrasil. Very important. Only the ZE remains (in 4c). Flying toward the First, the largest Self, the most immediate. You.

Baker B.: Thank you, Hucka D. And we’ll work on…

Hucka D.: … Amagon, yes.

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triptych interpretation 01 of 02

Hucka D.: I will forgive you for Amagon. The three lights. Wheeler.

Baker B.: Thank you, Hucka. So you are ready to begin?

Hucka D.: Yes.

“Adventures in Tintown Part 4a of Tin”

Hucka D.: Tinytown changed to Tintown. The missing Y is spotted by a boy in 4b. This is 4a.

Baker B. (clarifying): The boy at the largest of 3 such altered Tinytown signs. The one whose head is slightly cut off in the editing process as he looks down.

Hucka D.: Yes. The blade in the background? You didn’t get to that yet. Has Shelley regained her head?

Baker B.: Dunno, Hucka D. I would assume so. Since I have her active in another window opened up right now.

Hucka D.: What’s she doing?

Baker B. (checking): She’s in the middle of Extraordinary.

Hucka D.: Ahh, appropriate. Have you figured out what she is?

Baker B. (thinking back to 4a and the altered sign): Gold?

Hucka D.: Gold and silver. And platinum. There’s something else coming up.

Baker B. (after a pause; he’s looking in Extraordinary): Okay.

Hucka D.: Are the 3 lights there?

Baker B.: Yes.

Hucka D.: Can you close the window? (Baker B. closes the window) Back to 4a (pause). Obviously Spider has returned. He’s inside the collages now. For real. He’s alive (inside of them).

Baker B.: Yes. Fascinating.

Hucka D.: So that’s one thing predicted in these photos. Can I say these photos are all taken from Tinytown or thereabouts, on the outskirts of Mortons Gap?

Baker B.: I think you just did.

Hucka D.: Kentucky, the actual one, the real one. Not Mortons Gully in Our Second Lyfe. That’s just a 1:1 match from the Oracle.

Baker B.: Good to say (again).

Hucka D.: Not much there otherwise. Sissy’s is closed. Shame. She just wanted to fit in.

Baker B.: Or, alternately, she just wanted to be included.

Hucka D.: Put a picture up of what we’re talking about.

“she just wanted to fit in”

Hucka D.: Another simple collage — 2 part. Like all of them are. Until we reach the triptych which goes round and round… and round.

Baker B.: This is (in) Mortons Gap again, just to clarify.

Hucka D.: Right. (he pauses to look down at his hands; just yellow pollen covered balls, like at the beginning; he had regressed that far) Back to Tinytown which was changed or altered to Tintown. The narrow woman is interesting: one eyed, like Leela.

Baker B.: We call her Eyela.

Hucka D.: Right. She was set up as well (by the powers that bee). That led from the original altered photo, a simple 2-n-1, with the Y dropped out of Tinytown, into the triptych. The triptych was the goal all along. Another altered sign, I’ll note, in the dark backdrop behind her — less obvious; could be missed.

Baker B.: Yes.

Hucka D.: And the bat boy… but we’ll get to him in part 2. Or part 3.

(to be continued)

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00360506

appropriated from https://www.cidergallery.com/wad-blog/2022/7/5/meet-the-artist-folklore

Meet Barry DeBoy! His collage piece “Does this look square to you?” is in his current show, “Adventures in Tintown, Parts 1 through Tin”. When originally approached about the show, he already had the idea to do something that would work with tin and lead and other base metals, but in a way to make it fun and different from other portrayals.*

His 2017 gallery show in Omaha in Oklahoma was where he had discovered that he could pursue art as a career.

“I would describe myself and my art as goofy and something I don’t take too seriously, although art is super important to me and I am constantly making stuff. It’s both tin or lead and gold or, say, platinum at the same time. You dig?”

We do indeed, Barry. Keep on creating your stress-free and humorous art, you daffy alchemist!

—–

* note: Barry’s simple 2 part collage here (notice the disembodied  nutcracker head) was later incorporated into a larger triptych of the series, becoming part of part 4c instead of standing alone at 7, which was replaced by the painting “Sassquatch” (picture not shown).

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00360505

I was under pressure to finish this tonight. An expansion of “Adventures in Tintown Part 4 of Tin” into 4a (original 4), 4b, and 4c. Combined you can create 3 diptychs (4ab 4bc 4ca) and one triptych which goes around in a big circle (4abc or, if you will, 4abcabcabc…). Much analysis could be done but soo sleepy.

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Adventures in Tintown Part 4 of Tin

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On the outskirts of Mortons Gap lies Tintown, or use to until it became another one of those pandemic casualties. There you could dig for Gold, which means you could find Self, alchemically speaking.

All of ’em.

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gamers

—–

“The guy’s been there forever,” whispered Shelley.

“I really want to play Pac Man,” replies Arthur in a not as hushed voice.

“How… (she glanced over) how about Space Invaders? Right next to him — you haven’t played that as I recall.”

“Really?” is all Arthur could say to this, giving her a look. Pac Man is classic. Space Invaders is a game for *kids* in his opinion, a shoot-em-up. Not even on the level of archaic Pong.

—–

They went next door to sip on saki for a while but the bleeps and blips from the now lone player at the arcade persisted. “Might as well go back to the hotel, dearest. Prepare for Liz again. I’m kind of eager to try out that broken telephone booth outside — see what kind of action that can produce.”

But Arthur wouldn’t relent, not for that and apparently not for anything. He’d stay here at the upper end of Mortons Gap until the ends of the Earth.

Does this also spell the end of Arthur in our story? Shelley has many suitors available to her, it seems. But there’s Liz. Yes, Liz. Arthur also recalls that and finally relents and goes back to the hotel, eventually ending up at the booth like she desired.

“Hello?” she starts the roleplay. “Is this the Moon?” She slams the receiver back into its carriage. “Damn thing’s broke — no *4*!” On cue, a telephone repairman saunters up to the booth outside, loaded down with the tools of his trade around a maximized belt. Until he dispenses with it.

“Dang, Shelley. Just not in the *mood*. Can’t get *over* that guy back there!”

Yes, Arthur might need to disappear from our story for a while. There’s always Keanoob. And Edward, who most call Eddy these days. Might as well drag another character into the story. Appears to be a motif for the novel by this point — character overload. Location will help stabilize: Mortons Gap here. Both of ’em, actually. 2 places at once.


“she just wanted to be included”

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00360303

The view entering the downtown area from the west was… dramatic. Mr. Back, sorry, *Dr.* Back directed us to a smok’n bar and grill he claimed he owned, where we could finally get our dogs and rejuvenate. We’d been saved from leftover gravy and jam and whatnot by a mystery shooter.

It’s actually here we encounter Ashley. And Clyde, Big Loop complete. Because Clyde correspondingly brought Steelton back to Goldsboro, saving us a trip. We meet in the middle, which is nowhere. He’d just killed our Uncle Roy, who was ankle deep from the top down in the steel stealing crinimal matrix. He was even eating Roy’s leftovers he stole from his fridge just before we showed up, on a break between dough rolling. “Roller,” he said about his profession. “Rock’n it,” he added, which I assumed meant he was good at his job. He then beat the roller mercilessly against the dough a couple of times, smoothing out some rough spots I supposed. But, gazing into those steely eyes, I could see him doing the same with the inevitable bumps on someone’s head, the ones they use for soothsaying in phrenology. Clyde didn’t believe in any psychic bullshit. He was down to earth, meat and potatoes, what you see is what you get. He could have been a good mechanic if he wasn’t a better killer.

“I have a question,” W. said from the side, playing my wife Wanda Wannabe in the current scenario. Mother of 11 year old Tommy and 6 1/2 year old Junior, the “wee one” they called him because he always seemed to need to. “Junior, we *just* left the bathrooms at the service station,” was a common utterance during trips in the Wannabe car, being repaired with 2 wheels removed to bring it back down to the normal 4. Back saw to that — felt guilty for shooting them in the first place. Or have Bobby Carter the mill boy do it. Cousin of Clyde, I believe. All in the Family. Speaking of which…

“Wait… me now. What’s the connection between Goldsboro PA and Mortons Gap KY?”

“Well… Back,” I answered with some confidence. “And Place.”

“Place of eating or place of worship?”

It was here I realized the name of the bar and grill we were sitting at was M and J. But it was also described as a place of grace: “M & J’s Place of Grace.” Do they worship food? Anyway, this was 2 places at once we were in. I knew Firesign Theatre was involved again, because we also weren’t anywhere atall, neither here nor there.

Gunslinger Bobby Carter walked into the establishment. We all knew who this was now. He went up to Clyde and kissed him full on the lips, a new and different twist to the old kissing cousins trope.

(to be continued)

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alterations (Back’s story)

“Oh they’ve known about the armless giant who stands in the field quite a long time now. The most dreaded thing of all is when he turns his back on them, forgets who they are. Then he’s gone. That moment will arrive soon enough.”

“Will it?”

“Yes.”

“He’s the Ant?”

“Ant’s *replacement*.”

“Yes.”

—–

Both stared at Clyde for some reason. Instinct probably. He was hiding something behind those steely blue eyes of his. Perhaps he stole something. Perhaps he blew someone away. Maybe something between these extremes.

Some say he was rolling in dough when he had none before. No one knows where he got the money. Looks like steel it is. More precious than gold in these parts. Lots of bridges, lots of ships. Metal all used up; none to go around for other purposes. Easier to corner it on the marketplace.

Add in a corrupt mayor and you’ve got the makings of a scandal. But someone with a lot of money has to be behind it, at the center of everything, its pumping heart, supplying cash to keep the crinimal machine well oiled. Why do people do this kind of thing? A challenge, perhaps; notoriety that results. Too smart for their britches with no other proper outlet. If only they could take up painting, letters, dance, drama, poetry, reading. Stock marketplace is their only toilet fodder. How much is steel, how much *to* steal?

In the olden days such metal obsessed people might have turned to alchemy for creative release, done their souls some actual good instead of harm.

—–

“Easy as changing a 4 wheel car into a 6 wheel car.”

“Two problems,” returned W. “1st, there’s no such thing as a magnae.”

“Sure: plural of magnate. There was more than one Jay Gold. Says so in the name: Golds.”

“Highly unlikely,” opined W. “Then the extra letter in named, speaking of name.”

“Alternate spelling.”

—–

“All this is more believable than Goldsboro as a last name. Goldsboro is a *town* name.”

“True enough, I suppose. What will you do with the old sign, the sunny one?”

“Town dump; history successfully altered; 21 years of misery averted.”

“And… this will bring back the alchemy?”

“Might.”

“Better get to the people in the car.”

—–

“Dad-*dy*. How far til Uncle Roy’s? Huh, huh?” Junior held his crotch and did a small jig beside the added 5th or 6th wheel now, indicating he had to wee really bad. Mother Wanda Wannabee took him inside to the Tastee Freeze. “*Junior* gets to go inside,” continued Tommy with the complaining, watching them go through the front door of place. Last of the lunch crowd, as it turns out.

“Now now, Tommy. You know Uncle Roy’s cooked us up a nice meal of mashed potatoes and gravy jam and some other stuff. Steelton’s only 7 more miles. You can hold it in, I mean, hold out til then.”

“Ooohhhhhhh. Just… one… hot… dog.”

“This is not the place for that.”

Someone in the distance shot out one tire, then another and another and another and another… and… another. They were stuck here for a while. Tastee Freeze it is.

(to be continued)

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00360217

Ant suddenly stood up. “Eureka!”

“I’m right here,” protested bath mate Eureka. “No need to shout.”

“No, um. I’ve had a revelation.”

“Oh?” (suds suds suds)

“Well?”

“Dang. Forgot… distracted.” He watched her raise the other leg now.

“Well sit back down and I’ll suds you up this time. Come here.”

“Alright. Maybe it will (suds suds suds) come back to me.” He suddenly stood up again, backwards from the first. “Back!” he exclaimed.

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