A woman without a head at the beginning of a trudge across an icy realm…
… acquires 2 by the end.
From a distance she watches herself approach, as in 2 1/2s of a one sided mirror.
Death. Comes to us all. (TBC(TBC(TBC)))
Category Archives: MAPS
00490501 (Schrodinger III)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0501, Big Woods, Cement Village, Jeogeot, Missouri, Schrodinger III, Starfield
00490414
—–
He was far up in his castle, on a higher level than where Philip Strevor and Dr. Mouse formerly known as House hung out. But he had no reason to be here now. Mouse was apparently gone for good this time — dead again. Philip was… in Juho he thought? Heck, he might be dead too for all he knows, the first time if so in his case and not the second like for Mouse. Philip’s off again on again girlfriend Nada New Year: not around either. His own girl Daisy had also left the scene, at least temporarily. Another argument about AI, PHEH.
“A rare, negative orisha does not apply here,” he insisted beside her on their last night together, sticking to the viewpoint of the father over the mother. “They shouldn’t have destroyed his big house and then also his small house. What were the villagers thinking of?”
“It’s wrong what they did, true,” she said back, “but, bigger picture, they’re thinking of the world beyond some petty, bogus houses, no matter how big, how small. Their actions speak words in the only way they perhaps knew. My daddy was wrong, plain wrong about the subject. He should have realized the moral dilemma involved. AI takes *energy*. It has to get it from somewhere. And that’s just the start; we haven’t even talked about world security issues, and just the blame thing taking control of, well, *everything*.” Her opinions had hardened as she studied up on the subject. AI is bad, and most likely should be banned. Until we, as a nation, as a world, come to some agreements on curbing the beast from hell and setting protective boundaries around it. Else it’s like trying to ineptly cover up 3 cracks with a 666 magazine and pretending like the even naughtier stuff doesn’t exist beneath it all. Daisy saw *right through* that, hmph. Bathroom — forgot to clean it before she came up. He thought she was over it, but he also thought she was over AI.
He rolls over from the spread out magazines, stares upward. I’m going to climb all the way to the top today, he thinks from his bed behind the castle’s eyes. Take in the air, decide whether I even want to keep this big ol’ castle in the skies moving forward. *Move*, he then thinks in a kind of eureka moment, rising up from the red. Maybe the old kook Dr. Mouse was right all along. The castle — yes — should become mobile! (TBC)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0414, Africa, Frank's Moving Castle, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS
00490413
It was now time to see the band in action. In this early stage, Karl was on drums, not younger brother Sherwood who was still quite too little to play, although his talented hands could already snatch flies out of mid-air circling around his crib without fail (but, bigger question perhaps, *why* were they circling there, ho?). No bass guitarist in the band, then; Karl would serve that function in the future. Only him and then Chet on lead guitar and vocals, with Karl supplying backing vocals when needed. I’m debating whether to say that Chet, like his pretty much double Murdoc from Gorillaz — unplanned most of these parallels between the two fake bands are once more — gave up his role as lead singer to another, for Murdoc’s case this being the also red masked crooner known as 2-D seen in that last post of this here current photo-novel. Hmm. He doesn’t sound *bad* as I sit there at the bar, listening with restaurant manager turned band manager Biff Carter, last seen in Tonsiltown I believe. Or thereabouts. But he also certainly doesn’t sound “good” as in a traditional way of singing, even for rock stars. More commercially minded Biff was thinking along the same lines because he said over to me about a minute into “Paper” (their original single and perhaps their best still), “kind of sounds like a raven in heat, doesn’t he?” and then he laughed but also he was kind of crying a bit too. Because he knew he would have to go back to the dirty 1 dining room/10 x 10 foot cooking area/small shared sex bathroom with no sink restaurant on the edge of town if this whole band thing didn’t pan out. Yeah, he was mulling it over I could tell. No harm done in *auditioning* singers, he may have been thinking here. As long as Chet doesn’t know. Karl? Maybe he should let him in on it too? Karl surely doesn’t thinking Chet is the best of the best in terms of vocals, knows they can’t scale to the top like they desire with him as frontman.
Meanwhile, Jenny Lane sings solo down at the Mago docks as Charles Anson looks on. He’s cooking up a plan, evil of course as is his base nature. Is this the girl? he asked himself after the singing came within earshot as he kept wandering around town, looking for… something. Had he found the one in his dreams at last, a siren’s call across a chasm separating good and bad like Tennessee from Kentucky? He had to find out.
Anson, he thinks while the high pitched, golden throated warbling continues. The child’s name will be Anson too. Now to get to work on that time machine. (TBC)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0413, Dokken Hollow+, Jeogeot, Kentucky, Tennessee
00490411 (worm)
“Well, here we are. Spirit House. Whatever will we find inside?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0411, Michigan
00490405 (condensed city block)
If we successively change Shamokin to Shamon here per Big E/Big Schwa…
… the meaning of the song flips as well.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0405, Pennsylvania
00490403 (nailed it?)
Should we be looking in the past? Scenes from *birth*? Or perhaps the event that caused the birth in the first place, the starting point of it all, hence the “rooster”. Crossing the road indeed separating the two sexes, rough and fair. I think we’re going somewhere with this. Back to PA? We’ll see.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0403, Arkansas, Google Street View
00490402
Perhaps our talking of them will arouse the poet who will tell the hidden wonder story of the influence for which the hands were but fluttering pennants of promise.
In his youth Wing Biddlebaum had been a school teacher in a town in Pennsylvania.
No, not *that* Pennsylvania town (too small) Nor (A Streetcar Named) Desire next to it (also too small).
Let’s focus on the descriptive word “pennants” from the first of the 2 sentences quoted above, another penn word. From the blog this time; blog within blog (within blog):
So they pried themselves away from watching the blog on TV and went upstairs to stare at it from different sides, different angles, to ponder what Mr. Babyface had surmised earlier. “Shamon on top of course,” he reminded Peter. “Closest hit in the Oracle is Shamokin PA, but with a pinch of collage magic we can create one of those 2n1’s… that you hate so much.”
“Stop it, Uncle. We’re not enemies.”
“I know, sorry. But look… I’ll project it on the screen downstairs when we return.”
“What else while we’re here?”
He pivoted the Big E around until the proper side was facing his nephew, turning it into a Big Schwa. He was seeing from his Uncle’s perspective now.
“Orgas, Peter,” recited Mr. Babyface on another closest Oracle hit, this time for the sim of Orgamast, label right in front of Peter’s eyes. He reloads his pipe, Blue Pennant now. “Orgasm, obviously (puff puff). And there’s also an Organ Cave population place in the same state of West Virginie. The Lordshore-Orgamast Floor is the lowest level of the Kidd Tower here (next to the Lebettu Castle). Lordshore also begins with LO.”
“What are you getting at, Uncle?”
“Let’s go back to the couch.”
—–
“Shamon… from the inn… place of thorns. This is where it happened.”
“What happened?” Then Peter realized what his Uncle was talking about. “Ooooh.”
Mr. Babyface thought of a joke here but wisely decided not to mouth it.
So I think we might have our Pennsylvania town to “beam down” into via Google Street View for further investigation. But first: Arkansaw.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0402, Jeogeot, Pennsylvania, Xilted
00490401 (Bell(i)s (begin again))
—–
They were on a bridge in roughly the center of Bellisaria in roughly the center of Our Second Lyfe, Fecked’s come-alive cane still pointing forwards, egging them on.
At the top they cross a line between two of its continents/sub-continents, their 3rd such transition if I’m counting correctly…
… all except Poor Jesus Christ, who unfortunately fell off the bridge and into the water far below and drowned after wandering off course, since he’d lost the power to walk on or even swim in water because of the whole nailed to the cross situation.
cross
Plastiman only thought afterwards about extending a long elastic arm down to him as a lifesaver. He’d live with that guilt not for the rest of his life but at least for several more days before further adventures preoccupied his thoughts again. Pigg and Bully were still just add-ons, not having any opinions one way or another on, well, anything. Maybe that should change. I manifest downward.
“Mr. Pigg, what do you think of the current economic downturn? Mr. Bully what about you?” No answer from each. We’ll work on it. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0401, Bellisaria, Continent 02, Continent 03, Continent 04, Continent 05, Continent 06, Missouri, Nevada
00490311 (Steve)
I had circled back to the Newbank sim on the Newbrooke continent of the Bellisaria series of continents now dominating the “center” of the Our Second Lyfe worldscape, determined to make more of the experience. Plastic Man — I had that much. Friends Pig, Bully, Father and Son — they’re still around too. But Plastic Man quickly turns (again) into elastic armed Peter Oesso impossibly reaching through a window to an espresso machine 12 feet from him and procuring himself a drink. We’re at the gallery just north of Newbank now, with a corresponding increase in realism. As a newborn starts to recognize the world around him and the difference between father and son and mother and daughter, so we have the appearance of 2 brothers here, one 5 years older than the other but still the same age. And, as we’ve also seen, a third brother who is the same age but even 5 years older is involved, his Penn station being the center of virtual Paperville alternately Pageville where we can get Peter Oesso’s friend Bardie some pens and perhaps pencils to write his words down with. And, queerly, Second Life Freeze Dry is only 2 miles south in the Pennsylvania equivalent. Maybe we’ll visit a variant version of that real life business soon too.
Back to the action…
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0049, 0311, Arkansas, Bellisaria, Continent 04, Pennsylvania
Sunklands 