Category Archives: New York

00460602

She was already on her 3rd coffee and 4th Blue Moon single of the day. From her solo period of course. She doesn’t like the Cracks, her old group, nearly as much, prefix them with US, UK or any other country — doesn’t matter. But her solo period, especially after the suicide/murder attempt (another reader’s choice): primo. Pure punk while also somehow remaining pure pop, unholy yet uncannily successful marriage of the two. She takes another sip while she listens to another tasty lick from the guitar of none other than Cary E., soon to be known as Car E. and then just CARE w/ all caps, logical terminus reached on the name transmutation process. Formerly of Sunamai of course, helping out Blue Moon on this particular track called “No More Big Leagues,” a minor hit that kicks off her first solo album “Louisville Cardinals” — playing on the fact that the state of Kentucky contains no actual big league baseball team unlike neighboring Ohio with its Cincinnati Reds and Cleveland Indians and likewise neighbor Missouri with its own double team pairing of St. Louis Cardinals and Kansas City Royals. But believe me, don’t let the name fool you, she imagines saying to her brother Ted, more fond of the Cracks (a Crackhead of course): the album is definitely big leagues, and she then imagines herself laughing at his irritation to this statement of fact. “Johnny Rose Bench” is also a pretty well known love ballad from side two. And of course there’s “Elvis Esley.” Or Isley — no one really knows which except Blue Moon herself and she’s not saying.

The old timey dial telephone rings beside her. Probably station manager Marty, she reasons, calling to complain that I’m playing too much Kentucky and to cool it with the Blue Moon. She decides then and there to play the entirety of the the “Louisville Cardinals” album, just not lift the needle off the spinning vinyl record after the first track is done. And maybe play all the rest of her solo work — in order — after that. Take the phone off the hook and just *do* it. She calculates how quickly Marty could get here from Chilbo for the canning.

Can of Worms, yes, she thinks while track 1 ends and track 2 (“St. Louie Blues”) begins. Just like in New York.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0602, Chilbo, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, New York, SG Park

00460213 (power)

“Sir?” (pause) “Sir?”

“Oh yes, young Fink,” distracted Newt finally acknowledges his presence at the door to his study. “How’s it going? Everything alright with the computer upstairs and all?” He didn’t look at Fink Humann, kept staring at the screen of his own computer.

“Yes, fine sir,” said Fink. “It’s just that it’s 7 o’clock. Time for me to leave. I’m saying goodbye is all. Like, er, like I do every time I come over here… at this time.”

Newt checks his watch not on his arm, gives a little start. “Oh dear, didn’t realize it was so late. Better wrap this up. Well, er, thank you, Fink, for telling me the time and the lateness of it all. And I suppose I’ll see you again… tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is a big day, sir.”

“Please, Fink. You can stop calling me sir. You’ve come over, what is it, almost every day for the past 2 weeks?”

“Except that Sunday when Jack and I went plane flying, yes.”

“We’re friends now,” emphasized Newt from his chair. “Come over here, actually — I know it’s getting late and you need to get back to the treehouse but I — I want your opinion on this. I’m serious. Here.” And Newt waved him over, which he complied with. “What do you see?” he asked as Fink Humann also stared at the monitor with him.

“That’s er, your wife,” said Fink, seeing her image dominating the screen. Fink knew this was Wheeler now and not another form of their precious Princess Pinky Gumm. Wheeler herself told them that during a visit the other day to their treehouse.

“No, *behind* her. What do you see on the wall over there?”

“Um, JEO — GEOT,” he read on the poster. “Jeogeot,” he combined.

“Very good. The continent we’re now on.”

“Jeo-geot,” Fink repeated. “Jeogeot,” he collaged again.

“Yes,” said Newt. “Fine and dandy. But what else is there?”

“Um… people.”

“People, yes. And…”

“Dinos.”

“Dinosaurs, right. Aannd…”

“Um, an elephant?”

*Elephant*? Newt thinks. Does young Fink here not know what a giraffe is?? But then Newt realized Fink had inadvertently given him the answer to the riddle he’d been pondering so deeply about all this afternoon and early into the evening. The phone rang on his table. Wheeler obviously, Newt thought without checking the number.

“Thank you again, Fink. We’ll be talking soon.” He pats him on his shoulder to signal their time was done.

“But not tomorrow,” Fink says while walking out of the study, making Newt realize that tomorrow was the day mechanical contraption Bimbo was suppose to arrive from Fink and Jack’s native Oooo. Fink might not be coming around as much after that, and perhaps not at all. He’d miss the lad if so. Perhaps there was another way, hmm. He finally answers the phone that’s been ringing all this time.

“Where *are* you?” Wheeler emits.

Where are *you*? Newt wanted to say in return but knew it didn’t matter. Could be anywhere in the world… or nowhere. He’d find her whatever. Just up the stairs from down. “Be right there,” he said not into the phone but in the air all around.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0213, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, New York, NVFS, Oooo

Flashback Friday: “Polly Beach”…

… from exactly 8 years ago.

Rat Island, SC near Folly Molly Polly Beach and Charleston. Present centerpoint of budding, new mythology, bourne in the midst of unprecedented winter heat. This is where I hiked Sunday. This is where I doddled. Sand dunes.

ratisland01

Pirate Bluebeard Bluebird involved. Blackbird Rook Crow involved. We will see.

dead-parrot_London

Other Rat Islands…

New York:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rat_Island,_New_York

Alaska:

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

I was just reading about the latter the same morning I found the name Rat I., SC, through researching earthquakes in connection with fracking. Rat. I., Alaska is site of one of the largest earthquakes in US history. Charleston, SC is the location of the largest US earthquake east of the Mississippi River in the last 200 years.

Triangle, thus:

ratisland02

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0409, Alaska, New York, South Carolina

Christmas Eve

He was playing Schubert’s 14th piano sonata he’d bought the score for about a week back when it flew in from his set up portal, the 1st of 3 as it turns out. It clanked and rolled on the floor almost to the opposite wall, freezing his hands mid chord progression with the sound. He knew instantly what it was of course. He’d been here before.

It was minimally damaged in the transition thankfully. He brought it over to his work table, moving his trusty steampunk computer aside for the moment; automatically started to take notes on the thing. “Quasi-vintage Coko Cola can circa 1990s, lid unpopped with pop still inside,” he wrote,  unable to resist a ready pun. “12 fluid ounces; bar code 490690.”

Understanding the fractal nature of his universe, Newt brought the computer front and center again, googling the number. Through it he learned the product was manufactured in New York with a can manufacturer called Crown. Approx. date of creation: 1983.

https://www.cokecollection.com/index.php?lang=en&pageid=50&canID=11453

Those are the mundane facts. In digging deeper with the number, he soon found another New York connection here:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Interstate_90_in_New_York

Within New York, I-90 has a complete set of auxiliary Interstates, which means that there are Interstates numbered I-190 through I-990 in the state, with no gaps in between.

Splitting 490690 in two and averaging the 2 resulting numbers gives us 590, which is exactly between 190 and 990 or exactly in the symbolic center of New York somewhere moving west to east, he determined.

Right about… here.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Can_of_Worms_(interchange)

Can front and center once more, he figures the fizz inside has settled down enough to safely pop the top. But dare he?

Another can comes flying through the portal. Saved by the bell, er, *clank*.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0404, Cass City+, Maebaleia/Satori, New York

not yet

https://hyperallergic.com/842222/who-did-this-to-basquiats-old-manhattan-studio/

Doodlehedz can still see underneath the Pink. She hasn’t given up hope.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0613, New York

00330617

It wasn’t much of a cemetery, but then Arthur Kill wasn’t much of a man. “Where’s Tessie?” Wheeler exclaimed, hardly making an effort to honor the deceased via her casual pose. “She should be here.”

“Tessa’s at the town psychic,” Baker Bloch said, assuming a more deferent stance over the grave. He truly liked the actor playing the character and hated him to be killed off, as it were. Though perhaps Lemont Sanford can come back later as someone named Kill van Kull, he pondered, a brother or maybe another one of those twins, cousin or not. Anyway, it wasn’t fair. It was suppose to be a Mexican standoff in Ontario or at least Lake Ontario, above New Jersey above New York and not visa versa. One shot from the shooters went north to the head, the other south to the heart. Yet Tessa survived. That damn third eye just took in Arthur’s bullet and… absorbed it! Then the pyramid appeared. Then another pyramid appeared here. Tessa had to go. Soon Wheeler Wilson and Baker Bloch would learn what actually happened, eye for eye.

Time to bury the dead. Tessa missed her chance.

Wheeler decided to throw in her purse as well on top of the lowering coffin. Fire should be getting pretty hot already.

“Any money in there?” queried Baker, waiting for the inevitable.

“$1500,” she replied. “I figured he might need it for some air conditioning, ha. Final gesture. Fat chance though, right? Am I righht?”

Baker couldn’t help but emit a small smile.

“Just kidding (of course). I wouldn’t give that sorry slimeball any of my hard earned cash. Actually it was just his cursed pistol — good riddance (like him). And some food for his arrival.”

Soon enough, the burger inside began to sizzle again, blood continuing to withdraw and pistol rendered even more useless. Tessa’s duplicate, on the other hand, still worked perfectly. She was using it right now to defend herself again, this time from a fellow 3rd eye being posing as a psychic posing as a detective. But that’s another story for another photo-novel, it seems.

END OF “SUNKLANDS 2022 MIDDLE”!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0617, Cable Isle, HANA LEI, New York

head and heart

IMPORTANCE OF CLEAR INSTRUCTIONS

I asked the patient’s mom about the skincare regimen they were using, including their choice of soap. The parent said they were using Ivory soap. She said the previous doctor said to use either Dove or Ivory.

Now that would be an odd thing to suggest. Typically, one might recommend a less drying cleansing product to an atopic, but Ivory wouldn’t normally be at the top of that list. Almost undoubtedly, the doctor said to use “Dove, not Ivory.” But it is quite understandable how a patient could misinterpret what was said.

Port Ivory is a coastal area in the northwestern corner of Staten Island, New York City, New York, United States. It is located on Newark Bay near the entrances the Kill van Kull in the east and Arthur Kill in the west….

The area bore the name of Milliken originally, and became locally known as Port Ivory after Ivory Soap, one of the best-known products from Procter & Gamble, which operated a factory at the site from 1907 until 1991 when the soap making operation was moved to Mexico.[1][2]

“I knew you’d be back. *Boyfriend*.” Mexican standoff.

“You know what I’m here for.” SHOOT SHOOT POP POP.

Red at the waist.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0033, 0615, Mexico, New Jersey, New York, Wendy-Ontario-

more black and white

After visiting Blue-Yellow and attempting to watch his sun rise, I hop on a passing trolley and head downtown…

… soon reaching THE Cave. Or at least A Cave.

It strikes me that it would be wrong to keep calling this character Axis-Windmill in a town created by an actual German. So we’re going to go with a new one. Not reverting to Windmill Man — too easy. Bronze John looks on, trying to gauge, trying to help. He was so successful with the Beatles with an A naming.

The Beatles are such archetypes, penetrating many synchronicity systems.

All bands can be related to them. For example, Pink Floyd are the psychedelic Beatles, Firesign Theatre are the comic Beatles, and The Residents are the bizarro Beatles. Frank Zappa with his Mothers strongly reacted to them; the Rolling Stones…

I was told by fortuneteller Esmerelda a while back that the answers lie in a cave. In the related collage, cacophony musician Charles Ives pokes his head out of one sideways, wondering if he’ll have anything left to say. He’s sorry about Cowell, he speaks through the entrance, the mouth. He’s sorry about Connecticut and Danbury and the clashing of bands. Connecticut forgives, but he’ll have to make them laugh, make them suckers instead of seekers, and get small in the exchange. Thimble Islands’ General Tom Thumb might know, if he’s paying attention. Misery becomes Mystery (up to date).

I wonder about New York’s Central Park in the Dark, and the Unanswered Question. I think back to the Amazon jungle and the Indian who becomes a Spaceman, search fulfilled; “aliens” found — this would represent the end of the 4th. Concord (Sonata)… maybe that’s next. Oh, and Karl finding the waterfall (Rainbow) and reading the scrapbook and discovering a new ending, leading him to set aside the old life and the attached house and move on. I thought about Charles Ives today in perusing my table of tiles, wondering if I’ll get the chance to tell anyone about it besides the wife and a best friend. It’s pretty remarkable.

Here is where I’ll be reborn, or at least acquire a new name.

“Who are you?”

“Helmet Newton?” he or she answers as a question.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0110, Connecticut, Jeogeot, New York, Newtown+, Sunklands

BonBon

Kick-ass Boos said to sit at the table with the Bigfoot book, so here he is. He picks up another book laying nearby by John Shaw Billings, which he quickly gathers from his reading was a librarian for New York city in the US of A, Earth.

Kick-ass Bogota, Boos’ brother, strolls into the bar. His brother said he’d “mark him” to make sure Axis-Windmill knew who it was.

Yup. That’s him!

“Grasshopper please, Bertha. Extra mint.”

“Coming right up, Ted.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0029, 0409, Horns of Hatton+, Maebaleia/Satori, New York

tables turned

He was on a tightrope above the city, higher than ever. If he fell this time he may never make it, Yellow Family below absorbed by Black Mouse by this point up in space. Sacrifice. A menace revealed. To the left: death. To the right: death. Only center is safe, and that’s a narrow line indeed to navigate.

All Hidi can think to do to help is jump into the next section, the next book. Alice in Wonderland is done and over with. Time to head through the Looking Glass.

“Don’t worry,” he says below, waiting for her. “I’ll catch you.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0027, 0518, Nautilus, New York, Retirement Islands, Wild West, Wonderland