Category Archives: MAPS

All of West Virginia is suddenly at her disposal.

Wheeler, now Raspberry Girl, took the opportunity of her mate and partner in crime Johnny Black being away to catch up with some synchs, specifically “Waits 4 No 1” tonight.

As “Constantinople” begins playing to the end of “6 Feet Under”, people on screen soon to start dropping like flies, she recalls that 12 of the 13 tracks from The Residents’ seminal “Duck Stab/Buster and Glen” album are used in the synch, including this one. She also recalls… stabbing the Duck. She feels the purple-ish beret on her head reflexively, as if it might be hair.

David falls backwards dead, the first to succumb. She forgets the vision.

At 1 hour and 43 minutes in, past all 12 “Duck Stab/Buster and Glen” tracks now, she sees this, dubbed by “The sleeper has awoken” uttered by Dune’s Paul.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0606, Carrcass+03, Paper Soap+, Soap, West Virginia

time machine (have a seat)

I figured I was in the right place because of the flag. A community where Big Pipe and Little Pipe meet to create Double Pipe, a juncture of 2 supposedly equal yet opposite realities. This is America as we know it, red (white) and blue. This is the Key.

…to the east of Detour is Keymar, to the north of Detour is another unincorporated community called Keysville…

About 1.6 million Americans don’t have this in their house (no pipes!). Here: front and center in the middle of town, like a planted Tardis.

We begin heading backwards.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0601, Google Street View, Maryland

landmimes 03

“See what we did, Keith B.? I *told* you we couldn’t avoid Horns.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0515, Google Street View, Horns of Hatton+, Maebaleia/Satori, South Dakota

landmimes 02

Beyond the resourcefulness of its porcine citizens, there wasn’t much to recommend the small mining town of Rumpus Ridge. But even in such a hardscrabble place, they had created something they could be proud of: over the years they had collected the biggest ball of string in the world. Folks came from miles around to see it. But one night, a flood carries their prized string away and washes it ashore near the town of Cornwall. Rather than return it, the Cornwallians decide to keep the string for themselves.

https://foursquare.com/v/porters-sculpture-park/4cb6046256fca1cd653a5318/photos

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0514, Illinois, Maebaleia/Satori, Pipersville/Sink X, South Dakota

00340507

“I am Pauline Silentghost with the g silent and the h — not silent.”

“Pauline Silenthost?” replied Wheeler phonetically.

“Yes. (pause) I am the wisdom of all things–”

“–Nautilus, yes. I gathered that.” Wheeler indicated behind the entity at the circular framed nautilus shell, obvious symbol for the continent she once again inhabits. Like returned Rust. “Thus, I suppose, your smaller property in Scroop.”

“Scrougeout, yes. We call it Scrougeout. Carrcassonnee has decided so.”

“The… Oracle.”

“Yess.”

It was here Wheeler understood that they were talking to each other in their heads and not bodies. It was also here that Wheeler realized she was floating in air as a disembodied head or sumtin before the Oracle. Silentghost *was* the Oracle, or a channeler of Carrcassonnee in the moment. “You know Spider,” said Silentghost the Oracle. Then she fired these numbers very rapidly, the first being the same as the last. 24 permutations in total. Like this: “2130 1230 3210 2310 1320 3120 3102 1302 0312 3012 1032 0132 0231 2031 3021 0321 2301 3201 1203 2103 0123 1023 2013 0213 2130.”

“I suppose,” replied Wheeler, remaining even keeled through it all. “We found him in Tennessee. A Red Arrow indicated his presence there. And 8 shoes. And a bird, a dove perhaps.”

“Ahh… *my* dove. Victor, short for Victory. And *Victoria*.”

Wheeler tried to absorb this seeming nonsense, knowing it actually wasn’t.

“Let’s go down to my treehouse and talk further,” Silentghost requested, and then they were there.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0507, AF Subcontinent, Sansara, Tennessee

The purple building in Mapleton, Oregon, is now vacant.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0502, Oregon

silliness

There. He has it, shrunk back down to its original size. In the hands of the original owner. John L. Brown can stop grovelling now and move on to something else. Like selling cars.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0417, Tennessee

states

“Interesting place you brought me to, Wheeler. All I asked for is to give me back the mop.”

“Brrr,” she fake shivered. “Getting cold in here. You’ll have to put on at least a shirt soon.”

“You know I don’t do that, Wheeler,” spoke John L. Brown honestly. For a change. He *was* getting cold. A paradox was coming up. “It’s right there,” he continued. “Just… hand it over.”

“No,” she replied bluntly. “I… I’m not ready.”

“You like the *power*.” His smile turned into a smirk. Change x 2.

Wheeler thought back to using it on Arthur Kill. Indeed made him rise from the dead, just like Duck said it would when they met last. She desired to meet him again. John L. Brown said that he would meet in his stead and that he was away from Our Second Lyfe for the moment. Something in Real Life, he said. Uncopyrighted and untrademarked business. Herbert Domain.

“Herbert Domain?” Wheeler uttered at the time, obviously thinking of Tennessee. And she was right. They weren’t ready for that kind of business here. The dog named Spider is enough for now.

“You’ve done your business here,” spoke John L. Brown, the smirky smile not quite off his lips. “You know you can’t get out of this.”

“Chop me some wood first,” she said, fake shivering again. Because Wheeler had her own internal heating system. Unlike John.

But there was no wood to find in this desolate place high in the Foxtrot Backcountry. Only snow, static to others. Tennessee remains untraceable. The plane remains crashed in Kentucky and not Black Jack. That was the whole point of this.

Wheeler relented, gave over the mop. John L. Brown would hand it over to Paul in the next post.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0416, HANA LEI, Kentucky, Tennessee

00340415

“Looks like a Dove. Highlighted by white, even. Shadow against light.”

“Could be could be,” he relented. Spider. They’d found him! Carrcassonnee was overjoyed.

“Can I… see him again now? Now again him see… I can?”

—–

“Well I’ll just wait upstairs while you finish speaking with each other,” said Jamie, walking away and highlighting Sign.

The footsteps on the stairs ended and the footsteps on the top floor began. Roberts was more free to talk about what Tessa needed to know. She’d already apologized about before. She said it was the town and the lag there, made her appear… less clever than she was. Roberts actually meant Tessa here but Tessa thought she meant herself (Roberts). There was just that difference between the two. Now at least the difference is clear, because we weren’t in Cable Isle any longer but back in Towerboro. Which office was the branch of the other didn’t really matter. That would be revealed soon enough. I would assume (the branch is) here without knowing more, but I’m about as clueless as Tessa in the moment. We better get to their dialog.

“I’m sorry about before, Tessa. It was the lag and the town.”

“Yes, you said that before.”

“I was just checking to see if you were listening. Sometimes people don’t when I speak, but maybe I’m just use to Cable Isle and its issues. Maybe here will be different.”

So just listening in, it appears that there is only one Roberts and Franklin investigating firm and it has moved from there to here. Back to the interaction.

“I’m listening,” said Tessa, trying to do this simple action. All I need, she thought, is to wake up, not sleepwalk all the time. That’s what Roberts desires.

“Let’s just enjoy the here and now for a moment, shall we?” Roberts kept silent. Tessa kept silent. Roberts reengaged eye contact. “*Now*.”

A blue Martian appeared. “Who’s that, Roberts?”

“Laura, please,” requested the psychic-detective. “And that, my friend, is an Observer.”

“Hmmm. What is she observing?”

“You,” came the quick reply. Silence again. Tessa was trying to think of a next step — what Roberts wanted from her again. She was trying to be mindful. Roberts — Laura — was patient, she knew. There was something here to be revealed, she picked up, and not just the Observer. There was another *thing* involved, a (she gleaned) thing that is not what it seems. An animal! She said this aloud.

“Good. What kind of animal?”

“She immediately thought, dog, but discarded it as too easy, not trusting her gut reaction. Her thoughts drifted to horse. She could just guess aloud. “Horse,” she said.

“Mmmm, not quite,” spoke Roberts, face remaining neutral.

Alligator? she thought. “Alligator.”

“Again: not quite.”

Spider came to mind but she broadened it as insect. “Insect.”

“Yes.”

Tessa was pleased, thinking that was the end of the game. But then Roberts continued. “And?”

“Something else besides an insect?” Tessa tried to clarify.

Roberts gave up the game, opened the door with her mind.

“A… dog?” It was the first thing that came to mind and then it was the last thing that came to mind. Funny how things work that way.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0415, Cable Isle, Google Street View, Jeogeot, Tennessee, Towerboro

row of red 02

“Okay Kenny, slow and easy. We know what animal we’re looking for now.”

“Dog,” Kenny said, repeating the last word of the old, confused man.

And then, just like that — so suddenly — there it was. “There!” Ken screamed almost as loudly as the killed lady in the house did before. Arthur squelched the desire to shoot him on the spot as well. Because he saw something too.

“Back up. I want to make sure.” Ken backed up one click.

“Okay, sloow and eassy — and no screaming this time.” He held one of his weapons to Ken’s head just to make sure. He could drive himself if push came to shove. And it might after this. One click later: still there.

“The bird is *attacking* the dog?” Ken said in as calm a voice as he could muster given the circumstances.

“One click more forward,” Arthur Kill demanded, not yet ready to answer any questions.

“Okay.” Click.

Arthur Kill looked at the spectacle that had moved more toward the back. The bird is far separate from the dog now.

“Indicating,” concluded Kill. “The bird was indicating the dog. We can go home now. But first…” *POP*

The dog replaced the man.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0034, 0414, Google Street View, Tennessee