Category Archives: 0001

Return of Space Ghost


Baker Bloch’s father Space Ghost shows up in Collagesity from the woods again. He stops in front of Gloomy Gus. “Helllooo? Son?”


He waits about a minute, then decides to try what he remembers as Baker Bloch’s other house in Collagesity: Home Orange just up the hill. *His* old home. As Space Ghost makes a (typical) wrong turn around the Hole in the Wall bar to get there, he becomes stuck in the 7th and namesake spire of the Castle of the 7th Spire, the same place that Carrcassonnee took her infamous Intense Shower and almost lost an eye as a result.


Unable to free himself, he manages to finally figure out how to text his offworld son after some effort. The message Baker Bloch received was, “Help! Stuck! Hurry!”.


“Just teleport out; use your map,” Baker Bloch told his father after arriving on the scene several minutes later.


“I don’t know how to do that,” Space Ghost despondently replied, limbs still flailing.

“Okay, do you see the little logo that says *map* at the bottom of your screen? At the *bottom*. Or it could be on the left side, I suppose. Yeah, I’m looking at mine right now and it’s on the left side. But I believe I moved it there. So look at the bottom first.”

“I can’t find it. Is it next to where I keep my pillows and blankets?”

“Jesus,” Baker Bloch uttered, and tried to go inside the spire so that he could talk to his father face to face. But the phantom prim formerly used to access the shower had been made solid. Baker Bloch swears again with a dirtier word. The f-word.


“Now son, I didn’t raise you to use profanity like that. Apologize to the heavens and then get me the heck out of here!”

“Heck is a cuss word too, dad. It’s a euphemism for hell.”

“Shut up!” Space Ghost barked back. “I’m… I’m starting to lose my breath. I’m starting not to breathe!”


“Okay, don’t panic dad. I have an idea. I”ll just remove the prim if I can’t get it open. But let me try to cut you loose first before I start destroying town relics.”


“Yeah, that worked. *There*! You’re free now old man. Just take a moment. Breath in… breath out. Can you do that with me?”

“Breath in,” Space Ghost repeats with an inhale. “And breath out,” he says and lets it all go in a big exhale.

“Do it again,” Baker Bloch says to his father.

Space Ghost repeats what he did before twice. “There, I think I’m alright son. That was a close one! I almost saw your mother inside, meeting me at the Golden Gates.”

“Well you’re okay now. It will be some time before you join mom up there.”

“Not that long. What if you were offworld doing something that took your user away from the computer? I could have easily died! Anyone else here in this town now? Noone heard my calls for help.”

“We come in as we’re needed,” Baker answers. “Everyone is still here, they just pop in and out. Which brings us to my next question. What are *you* doing here? I haven’t seen you in ages!”


“I’m visiting you, you old fart,” his father answers. “Where’s that girl of yours? The other Baker. Baker Blood. No, that’s not it.” He shakes his head, trying to remember. Baker Bloch helps him out.

“Blinker. Baker Blinker. And she’s not my girl. I don’t have a girl. I don’t even have a you know what. I get that from your side.”

“Oh, that’s not what *I* heard,” Space Ghost insinuates back. “That’s why I’m here. I figured it was that other Baker you might have knocked up.”

“No, we’re not a couple, dad,” Baker Bloch reinforces. “Where did you hear this?”

Night was falling on the Rubi Woods and mainland Second Life as a whole. There was a sudden chill in the air.


“Let’s get you up to Home Orange for some hot beverages. Come along; just follow me. You were going the wrong way up the hill to get there, by the way.”

“Shut up and take me home.”


“You had to go up the road. Remember the road? Remember the cannon? Cannon Road?”

“Not really.”

They reached the cannon at the other end of Cannon Road.


“Oh yeah, that old thing,” Space Ghost uttered as they came upon it. “I remember I had to blast aliens with it during the 7 Year Spending Spree War. Damn House of Lemons. Damn that child of theirs. All that trouble over a little kid.”

“The kid who was locked up in the same place you just got stuck in. Seems to mean something, dad.”

Space Ghost became thoughtful as well. “You could be right son. Let’s go inside and I’ll catch you up on where I’ve been. And you can catch me up with your do’ins. How’s that girl of yours? Baker something or another. Not Bloch obviously. That’s your name!”

Baker Bloch suddenly felt great sympathy for his father. “Just through that orange door there, dad. You remember, right?”

“Home sweet home,” the old man said as he passed through the phantom door.


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East Pole


They emerged from the drift in front of the famous spool table containing the Minoan Radio. A tinny version of “Skating Away on the Thin Ice of the New Day” by Jethro Tull was playing — nothing really unusual there — but the recording was stuck on the “skating away” lyrics of the chorus, which repeated over and over as in a broken record. Corresponding to this, skateboarding Bart Simpson was himself stuck atop the iris opening implanted in East Pole’s epicenter.

Jack pointed toward the figure. “Look Bendy. Both stuck. Bart is usually darting back and forth and all around this side of the moon when we come here.”

“Yeah, I always half expect to get clobbered by him when I arrive,” adds Bendy. “Skateboarders, pheh.” As they contemplate the meaning of all this, another figure emerges from the drift to their right. It’s Tilie the multi-colored, morally responsible moon maintenance robot. He passes the broken radio without nary a glance and heads straight to Bart. He begins to repeatedly touch the figure with an extended arm. Each time he does, his body changes colors.




He stops when his body only shows 2 colors instead of 3. He mutters a curse. It is only then he sees the still mostly submerged Jack and Bendy on the edge of East Pole. “Oh, beg your pardon sirs,” he says, and then bows in greeting. “I will erase my curse from time and space.”

“It’s no problem, Tilie,” responds Jack, waving the moral mistake off while moving toward the figure and likewise fully emerging from the edge drift. Bendy follows suit. “How is everything? How’s the wife? Ounita isn’t it?”

“Correct,” replies Tilie, wiping his red brow. “She’s fully functional, yes. Recently polished. I can’t even eyeball her in the sun. Blind. How are you fine gents? Bendy, it’s been quite some sidereal time. Maybe since the whale and squid debauchery at West Pole?”

“Yup, I believe that may be it,” Bendy replies, thinking back on that awful day. That’s the last live eating he hoped he would ever witness. And so large and up front!

“The wife Eldwithel didn’t like Jim the Eel whisking him off to Mars on a daggle hunting trip without her consent, ha ha ha. First she sucked his eyeballs away and then took her tongue and… but I can tell from the charged expressions on your face that I’m going too much into fine detail for good senses once more. The woof and warp of a maintenance bot’s lives, eh?”

They all sit around the spool table facing the radio and catchup with each other. All goes well until Tilie attempts to explain what’s wrong with this pole. “It’s the sun and his shiny cache of roman’s numerals, two and seven and seven and two. It’s the lemon, sweeter than normals with pits for eyes that make you jump back and screech ow without complaint. Sky lumber jacks mustard into thin air. The lady sings fatly.”


Jack stares at him. “So that means we can’t stay here for any length of time.”

“No bleeping still life way you can’t! Hamlin Garland realism in a cussword genie bottle. Apologies once more!”

“It’s no problem again, Tilie.” Jack turns to Bendy. “Well, that looks like it.” Jack stands up from the spool table and motions Bendy to do the same. “Tilie, we bid you farewell, then, and wish you luck on your repairs.” Tilie rises and bows in parting without speaking further.

“What was *that* all about?” Bendy queries after they reach a certain distance and begin to enter the drift again. “Mustard,” Jack responds, holding steady to the seam. “Mean and mad.”

Both are safely within the drift and aimed toward South Pole when Bart’s yellow head blows up like a fish.

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Ahem, remind me what he likes to call himself now?

Baker Blinker:

Bogota. Like the projected collage series.



Ah yes. Bogota, Bogota. Got a sort of ring to it I suppose. Is this related to Boos-gota? (Bogota enters the gazebo) Ahhh… here he is now, fresh from a power nap. Hello David Bowie. Drat! I mean: Bogota.


Bogota is my name, while I’m here. Do you like it? Baker B. chose it for me. It’s one of his future collage series, hm-mm.


Yes, we know. But you are also S-y-d or S-I-D from the woods.


Um, yes, I am recalling that now, sir. Just now, though.



You can reveal yourself for who you are here. No need for a mask.


Oh, okay. (Bogota fades out the mask)


So what is your true business here in Collagesity? We are honored to host such a distinguished guest. We are collectively a bit awestruck, actually.


Yeah (sniff). I do that to people. Actually I’m just here to read one book in particular and then leave. It’s the book by — Blood Curdling isn’t it? I’ve read the early chapters and am up to the one about, well, me again. (He smiles at both Baker Blinker and Carr.)


Yes, I’m sorry Blood Curdling is not one of our better town writers. Pete has a nice set of fictional detective stories if you’d like to read those instead. (turns to Baker Blinker) Pete… isn’t that his name? Pete Good… Pete Best… something. (Baker Blinker just shrugs.)



Um, sure, thanks. I’ll take them with me.

Baker Blinker:

Where will you go next?


Out there. Mars. Saturn. Uranus. The universe beckons.


Baker Blinker is wondering if the woods will still be haunted.


Well, that’s what I’m trying to determine. We’re trying to figure out what those, er, woods are about. This Collagesity depends on it for energy. A fire burning.




Me and my mates. My mates and I. I’ve finally got to meet Syd now. We’re catching up. Planning the future. The skies the limit. (turning to Baker Blinker) Next life I might be Pink!

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In truth…

… it might have been some version of this man named Dave, who has chosen to be called Bogota during his stint in Collagesity, haunting the Rubi Woods all this time, not Sid or Syd per se.

Bowie has long declared himself a massive fan of Barrett-era Floyd. He showed just how much by singing their debut single ‘Arnold Layne’ at guitarist David Gilmour’s solo show at the London Royal Albert Hall last month. It was Bowie’s first live appearance in two years following a serious illness.

He said on hearing today’s news: “I can’t tell you how sad I feel. Syd was a major inspiration for me.

“The few times I saw him perform in London at UFO and the Marquee clubs during the 60s will forever be etched in my mind. He was so charismatic and such a startlingly original songwriter. Also, along with Anthony Newley, he was the first guy I’d heard to sing pop or rock with a British accent.

“His impact on my thinking was enormous. A major regret is that I never got to know him. A diamond indeed.”


Also in GNIRPS, he seems to defer to Barrett in a quite tangible way and that’s what got me thinking in this direction. Carrcassonnee suggested that I stop considering such “evidence” accidental and just go with it.



There can be no doubt, actually.

The one and only US David. It’s unique too!

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Karoz grudgingly agreed to a private meeting over at the closed town diner. It was about 1:45 in the morning. Lockfry didn’t want Furry Karl or Baker Blinker or any of the others to overhear what they might speak about. Karoz didn’t care one way or the other.


“Listen, I’ve given you my apartment, my *woman of interest*”, started the moss being. “I have nothing left in this town. I sleep over under the red lights of the town museum with the flattie elephants and guerrillas.”

“Over under?” exclaims Lockfry, stretching his arms above his head. “Sounds like my kind of place, though. Have the guerrillas played mind games with you? I hope so. That would be cool.”

“So, what, you’re going to try to talk me out of leaving? Why would you do that?”

“Look, this is hard for me…” spoke Lockfry more honestly than before to Karoz. “We’ve met before. I know Peter SoSo.”

“That’s impossible.” The sound of squeaking and rattling was heard from the door. It was Winnie the Pooh and his honey cart, passing by on the rocky road outside (Cannon Street). Karoz noted the sound but couldn’t see the famous bear from his angle. Lockfry acted like the noise didn’t exist.



A longer silence ensued as Karoz tried to assimilate the revelation. “So you’ve been to Crabwoo?”

“I was enrolled at the college for 3 years, until they kicked me out for cutting the head off that dame and eating her lover. But, heck, we all do crazy things when we’re young and away from the home for the first time. Just kidding about that, by the way. You can take your shocked look off your grassy face.”

“The college stuff or the killings? Because I’m much more inclined to believe the latter.”

“I’m Peter’s friend Dave. We knew each other. Devil Dave, remember? I was pretty evil back then as well. And devilishly handsome of course.”

“Dave?” Karoz scrutinized Lockfry’s face closely for perhaps the first time. “Yeah. Yeah, I can see it. You *are* Dave. A considerably redder Dave, but you were quite pink in those days, so I can see the progression. Trace it back.”

“So you believe me.”

“I guess so.” “Dave,” Karoz repeats after a pause, and then looks at Lockfry again. “How?”

“Heck, everyone who was anyone back then went to Crabwoo to study. It’s not *that* odd.”

“Have you seen Peter recently?”

“Not since the [Linden] takeover. Most of us Ancients lost track of each other in the confusion. The days of Lemony Goodness were over. But, ahh, Crabwoo in its time was something, wasn’t it? Beat the [socks off] Chilbo. But of course there was the curse put on it. The Purse Curse.”

Karoz knew his Crabwoo history. He came to the Maebaelia continent city when it was sliding downward — considerably after the curse. But it was still something to behold. Two sims abuzz with excitement, all nuzzled up to the Blue Feather Sea. Like Lockfry said: everyone who want to expand their horizons went there. To study, to experience, to *know*. Know the higher truths. That’s where Karoz was introduced to the concept of TILE and tiling. Dave, if he recalled correctly, was 4 or 5 years older than him. So he could have seen the carcass sprawled out in the central mall, before they hauled it away. Peter talked about it as well, but he remembered the lingering smell more than anything. They couldn’t get it out of the air; it permeated *everything*.

The rattling/squeaking noise was heard again, as Pooh passed by from the opposite direction. Something else was in his honey cart, changing the timbre. He stopped in front of the diner door. His umbrella was both inside and outside the structure at once.



Baker Bloch paused from speaking to his Past Father and turned around to see what the rumbling was about. The reality including Karoz and Lockfry had shifted over.

“Sounds like rain,” said Past Space Ghost.


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Whitehead X-ing Studies 02 > Blood Curdling Tells of the Forest


“You see, Hucka D., when you enter Lego/ into the GNIRPS oracle machine these twinned Winfields come up, and we know that Winfield is the same as /Winesap/ through Kansas.”


Hucka D.:

Yup. But you’re losing your few readers, once more.


This can’t be coincidence[ however].

Hucka D.:

Of course not.


It goes back to or enters “Map Synching Feeling” again and all that labyrinthian stuff.

Hucka D.:

A way in, a way out. That’s all you can do[ at this point].


“Let’s go this way, then. The Contraption begins to show up again in the Sam Parr series following Falmouth, where it initially appears.”

At this point, I realized I had to go meet Karoz over in his one room apartment above the Bodega market through Baker Bloch. I rang him up and asked him if he was cool about visiting the galleries for a bit, and that I wanted to take some pictures for the blog. He said okay.

Soon we were in the Red Umbrella gallery Fal Mouth Moon, looking at pieces where The Contraption first shows up.


“These are the two aspects of me,” he said when seeing these two matching green images in collage 57. They are… the 2 Roger Pine Ridges? Explain that Baker.”

So I, through Baker Bloch, explained the story of the 2 Roger Pine Ridges to Karoz, and how both visited our house last summer. My nephew had just mentioned Roger “Syd” Barrett on a facebook post today, because it was his birthday. I started to defend the music of Barrett more to my nephew, but decided against it. Best to come to the blog and do a solid night’s work. Best to talk about Barrett here, if anywhere.

“I understand Furry Karl thinks Syd is still in the woods,” says Karoz. “Do you think this is the same as Roger Pine Ridge?”

“I guess so, Karoz.” Realizing the tour wasn’t going to work since one of them falls asleep while standing up when the other is active, he suggests they go back to Karoz’s apartment and begin the interview.

“Haven’t we done this before?” Baker Bloch asks while walking with Karoz to the market. “I mean, didn’t we start an interview before and got sidetracked?”

“My memory is not what it use to be, Baker. Do you wish to consult the blog before proceeding?”

“Maybe we should Karoz. I tell you what, I’ll catch up with you tomorrow night if you don’t mind. About the same time?”

“That will be fine, Baker. Goodnight.”


When arriving back at his house on the western edge of town, Furry Karl was waiting for him on the porch.

“Hey Baker Bloch, um, do you mind if I crash for a couple of nights in your front room? The heat broke over at my bar.”

“Um Karl, you’re missing the lower half of your body.”

Karl looked down. “Oh my God. Oh-my-God! What just happened here?!”


Half an hour later, after Karl’s full body had returned and he had calmed down some, he admitted he was lying about the bar’s heat being broken. It was the woods again. Baker himself had heard some kind of noises in that direction last night.

“You shouldn’t have released that book “Blood Curdling Tells of The Forest”, Karl,” voiced Baker. “And what about that typo — “Tells” instead of “Tales”? You didn’t like the original title?”

“Well, it was the initial reviews, which weren’t so hot, Baker Bloch. So I just let the admittedly rather massive typo stand; deemed it fate. This fellow *Blood Curdling* who tells stories about the forest is the one who doesn’t write so good, not me. And now I’ve invented his profile on facebook, so I guess he’s legit and all.”

“I’ll find him and friend him tonight. I’ll rez you a sleeping bag, Karl. I know your own inventory is rather light.” Baker decides to be a nice guy this evening to poor Karl. He’s just released a pretty bad book about hauntings. He’s *just* recovered from losing half his body all of a sudden.

He tucks Karl in, and then unwisely begins to read “Blood Curdling Tells of the Forest” before turning in himself.



The next day a compromise was reached. Baker and Karl jointly decide that it would be best to move the Hole in the Wall bar to Collagesity, and above the Confluence Pool directly behind the town diner. It was a tight fit, but seemed to work after a little terraforming.


Baker set some pretty strict personal boundary rules right off the bat, since Karl was practically next door to him. Karl had to *call* him before coming over — couldn’t just drop in on a whim. And Baker rationalizes that it’s going to be quite wicked to have a bar just around the corner to wet his whistle. “Hey, you call me too before you come over,” requests Karl, and then laughs it off. But one thing Baker Bloch knew is that Karl didn’t need to live over there in the middle of the Rubi sim by himself any longer. Next to the heart of those woods. No he didn’t.

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Year in Review

The long Xmas break is coming to a close. I *love* being off from work, but I guess most people at this point in time could say that. According to Forbes at least 2 out of 3 Americans dislike their jobs. Still there are worse options, like unemployment, like living in a town I really don’t like (I do still like Blue Mountain quite a lot, just not as much as in earlier years). And I can see the finish line of my job now — 5 more years or so, perhaps 6. And that’s it.

As I’ve probably already written about here, I am very pleased with the progress on Sunklands, which is now a blog wrapped up in a legitimate web site (still for now). I see the blog as sort of a volcano of ideas, spewing forth strings of energy. I might have just finished up a round of Collagesity style fiction, for example. Before that I was heavy into the interpretation of the Boos collage series. Before that, the focus was on physically making the collages of that series. And so on back down the line. But sitting behind the blog are also several other projects I don’t talk about as much. The Sunklands site now seems to center around the collage art of me, baker b. But running in the background all the time in low hum mode is the maps research. It predates the digital collages, it predates audiovisual synching: for over 30 years now I’ve been working on this one project, trying to figure out how to put it in some sort of published form. And despite at least one valiant attempt, I’m still not there. Probably in about 10 years time I’ll release a version of the research but with the understanding that new editions will be forthcoming. I look forward to retirement for time to focus on that very important life project as well. The hybrid “Map Synching Feeling” from last year is a nod in this direction.

So let’s just break it down into categories:


Very pleased, once more, with progress on collage work. 2 10 work series came in the first half of the year, and then the 30 piece Boos series happened in November and December. If I can keep doing 2 or 3 series a year like that for the rest of my life I’ll be pretty happy. It’s very very important to allow time for 2d digital collage making. It’s become my bread and butter, along with overall blog development.

And I have to add here that collage *interpretation* worked out well this year too. My interpretation of the Boos series might be my best writing yet in that vein. I also worked quite hard on the Stonethrow series interpretation in May, but that was only 10 collages as opposed to the 30 in Boos.

Audiovisual Synching:

Another type of collage in my mind, and one that keeps chugging along, although not at the hot pace of 2004-2007, or even 2013, another big synching year for me. But they still come. Carrcass-12 was formed this year in September. I still need to tape it, but I seemingly have all the elements in place now to do so. In a way, *this* is the center, and 2d collages just emerged from it instead of visa versa. But, really, the two go hand in hand in a bigger picture.

One thing I don’t worry about, at least presently, is making any money off of these collage creations. Setting that on the backburner has allowed me more freedom to experiment. For example, I’m always examining the idea of a work of art as self contained vs. being part of a series of at least 10 works. Obviously to the general (buying) public the former would be more understandable and probably more desirable to exhibit on their own. But without the flow of ideas behind the work, collages seem hollow and more insubstantial and, eventually perhaps, even dispensable. It’s a large topic. And this goes along with the needed interpretation of said series, adding depth. It’s almost two sides of one thing: like the moon, collages have a light side (surfacely viewable; contained) and a dark side (hidden meaning; boundless). To explore both, for me, is to better see the whole.

Virtual Reality:

This year, probably for the first time in my Second Life involvement, I’ve kept together a virtual town for *a whole year*. That’s quite an accomplishment in and of itself. But, viewed in another way, maybe it’s a non-accomplishment, because I’m always going back and forth whether to sell the land at the first of the month, or even abandon it. Witness the “move” to Nautilus continent and the Mysten sim this past summer. Witness the more recent Nautilus City rentals. Just last week Spongeberg Resident decided not to destroy the town in January and shift everything over to that island city. And I’m well aware that Second Life will not last forever, and that if I retain a virtual presence it will soon have to come through some kind of other platform. But I haven’t found that platform yet, and so my involvement with Second Life and virtual town making there persists. I’m thinking that the name Collagesity might be carried over into a post Second Life existence. I just like the name.

Art (Toy/Junk) Happenings:

One for this year: Bigfoot. Another big success story. Taking place on the western edge of the Blue Mountain Urban Landscape, October’s Bigfoot art happening forms a great synthesis of junk, toys, and marble races, my best effort yet in that direction and a template of sort for all happenings to follow. Where is it headed? I’m not sure, but the happenings have become an indispensable part of my art now. They are also entwined with woodsy exploration. So let’s go to that next…


The weather has been super nice in November and December this year, allowing me considerably more hikes that usual for the time period. I have a backlog of photos to upload to the blog, actually, involving several more extensions of the Blue Mountain Landscape beyond Bigfoot (and Rediscovery). But Bigfoot is the big find of the year since it is attached to the successful happening. And the Blue Mountain Urban Landscape itself, taking a focus away from nearby Frank and Herman Parks. Too much stress, I feel, has been laid upon the latter to carry forth my art happenings, with Whitehead Crossing at the center of that quandry. More on that in a post to come. But Whitehead X-ing keeps being developed in its own way, and, as it seems to be turning out, in a *different* direction than the art happenings. Very important point there.

Sunklands Blog:

It keeps keeping on! I’m one of those that took to blogging like a duck to water. I can’t see that coming to a halt anytime soon. It also acts as or subs for a personal/ work journal. I sometimes talk through life problems via the blog’s various characters. I find refuge in a virtual village when the outside world becomes either physically or emotionally harsh. I weather the storm there and blog about it. I always seem to emerge a stronger person, and better because of the challenge. Thank you Sunklands!

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On Friday night, December 31st, Spongeberg Resident was standing before the townspeople of Collagesity, imploring them to give reasons for him to *not* destroy it and them with it. It was slightly in the future, but I saw it through the vortex that had been opened in the meantime.

“The tower of Shiny Hare is a reason for the town to keep existing,” he continued. “Baker Bloch’s ‘Uncle Meatwad’ is a reason. The budding love of youngsters Cardboard Derek Jones and Lisa The Vegetarian Simpson is as good a reason as any. I’m all for true love. But in my heart of hearts, I still think the cons outweigh the pros. The town is too expensive to run. Even with the oh so handy prim to convex hull conversion to decrease land impact.”

“Who are you?” raised a voice in the back of the crowd. It was Furry Karl, who had arrived late for the meeting due to his longer walk from the Hole in the Wall bar.

“I am called Spongeberg Resident, and I am a destroyer by nature. There are hundreds upon hundreds of residents in this Second Life, but I am *The* Resident. Carrcassonnee is unique as well. I stand in for her at this meeting, as I explained earlier Fuzzy Jim (Spongeberg attaches a wrong name to Furry Karl here). She is meeting with forest representatives at Nautilus City, and I’ll go ahead and tell you that she’s making plans to move *some* of you — along with *some* of the town — back over there if I make the choice I think I’ll make. So it’s up to you, the citizens of Collagesity, to make a difference. Send me your essays (earlier, Spongeberg had asked each person at the meeting to send him at least a two page report on why Collagesity should be saved). Send in the reasons. I’ll debate. The chance of destruction is 70-30 right now. Carrcassonnee has allowed me to do what I wish here. She actually can’t keep me from my job even if she thought otherwise. Yet I am not a mean deity. I am a kind destroyer. I usually nibble around the edges — a church here, a gazebo there. But I feel in this case it is best for all of you to enter another life together. A life that doesn’t involve Second Life.”

“I haven’t seen the required film,” chipped in flatty Fox Mulder, who, as usual, was standing side by side with partner Dana Skully. “Can we still see it? That might make us, as a town, feel better about where we’re going, where it’s all heading.”

“You had your chance,” replied Spongeberg levelly. “Baker Bloch was at the beach all last week and you all just sat around doing nothing. You are so lazy. I’m asking you to work now for your town. Okay, okay, I’ll allow you to see the film if you wish. “Uncle Meatwad” is currently loaded up at the Collagesity Theatre but I’ll ask Baker Bloch to reload the Grand Theft Auto video from Tube World [sic].” He tapped his face, as if deciding on something. “You sicken me,” he then tacked on to end his speech. He stepped down from the podium on the second floor of the town diner and made his way through the grumbling crowd toward the teleporter. But when reaching it, he just disappeared in that cloud of black particles again.

I pulled back from the vortex. Carrcassonnee was by my side. “You have only 1 day to change things,” she said. “I have to leave for Nautilus City. Things are pretty much set in stone, but stone can be molded in time as well. A bit. It’s all pretty plastic given enough time. Which you have little of. Goodbye and good luck!”

Carrcassonnee teleported to Nautilus City, leaving me with Spider and Lisa. I knew Lisa wouldn’t be making that date in the diner tomorrow, since Carr. animates her. Poor Cardboard Derek Jones. He won’t understand any of this.

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Walking across the Grand Theft Auto V continent

How Big is GTA 5? – Real Time – Walking Across the GTA V Map (no audio)



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Collagesity Report

I’m heading to the beach tomorrow where I probably won’t be looking at Second Life and thought I’d give a report of the town before I leave.

First off, I’m having great fun revamping the World of Collage in the northwest corner of Collagesity. I’ll talk about that more when I get back.


The top floor of the diner is probably where town meetings will take place. Unless some other structure rises up in the meantime. Will such a meeting be held before the new year? Could be. Cardboard Derek Jones, for instance, is bugging me about returning House Greenup and its namesake collage series to the village. I’m not sure that’s the best idea, but it is an example of a topic we could debate.


I don’t think there’s any debate, however, that Baker’s new home is this one on the western edge of the town. He sits in his small study, taking in an angle of his beloved Rubi Woods. Will he rewrite the “8×5” at this location? But what about Home Orange? Will his father Space Ghost take his spot there? After all, it’s his original homestead according to Collagesity lore, at least when it was in Noru. So that’s something else the townspeople could talk about.


Baker sits on Meditation Knoll in the woods:


The House of Truth hasn’t yet been filled with information, like it was originally, I suppose, in Noru once more. But an older version of Noru — pre-Collagesity. Baker has more decisions to make concerning the interpenetration of Noru and Rubi mythologies, both going back quite a ways by now. Once again, the townspeople can help with decisions, and are probably required to do so.


Baker tests out his old table in Home Orange.


His view there. Hmmm….


To remind myself and also others, this was Baker’s home going back to Pietmond in 2010, I believe. LINK

Baker ponders what to put at the supposed weakspot of Collagesity, pointed out by Spongeberg, to stop up the energy leak. He thought of placing the de-eyed red-violet version of Carrcassonnee there, like it was before. LINK But maybe that’s what Spongeberg wants. Hmmm, again. Baker realizes he’ll probably have to do *something* about it before I go to the beach. He can’t place anything there without my help, can he?


He sits on the rock, thinking about this and enjoying the interesting shadows on the Red Umbrella gallery. He also hasn’t made a decision about what to put in the old Norum gallery beside it (to our right). There’s still lots to mull over concerning Collagesity’s future.


The bottom of the Kidd Tower needs working on.



Hucka D.:

I’m back baker b.


Hi Hucka! Oh yes, it’s almost Christmas. I was suppose to ring you up on the 25th.

Hucka D.:

You will be indisposed, however. Did you enjoy analyzing the Boos series on your own? You did a great job. I told you you could do it. I stood out of the way because we’re… we are too familiar with each other by now. The reader, while perhaps still amused, had trouble cracking our secret language. [Delete name] was right about that, at least. But mainly he was a control freak. A smart control freak. There were many such people at the time, near the beginning of the Internet. He would freely admit this now too. If he had to do it over, he would accept other people’s opinion without question at times; let it stand. So there’s regrets there too. Like what he said about your Greenup series interpretation, which you also did on your own. I understand you’re taking that to the beach with you. Good choice. It is a good interpretation that needs more work. This is the Lime section of “Floydada”; I’m telling that for the reader.


Thank you for that. Yeah, I don’t know what to do with all those old [interpretation sections], beginning with “Floydada”.

Hucka D.:

Maybe you could hand it over to Cardboard Derek Jones. Let him work on it.


Possibility. But what of this weak spot found by Spongeberg?

Hucka D.:

He’s determined a place that the town could be destroyed. In the bigger picture, he doesn’t see the worth in it. He would point to not the *violence*, the misogeny, the *overlay* of Grand Theft Auto but, removing all that, just the *landscape*. Second Life is beyond dated. Yet you can still create galleries here. Once you can create galleries in another spot and build up another mythology you can begin to exit. But only at that point. When you die from Second Life, however, you die, because you can’t take it with you, and that includes Baker Bloch and all the rest of the avatars. Including me.


If I didn’t have the blog, it wouldn’t be worth it.

Hucka D.:

You must think about the next step. Spongeberg is right about that. Place the 2 hour plus film about the Grand Theft Auto landscape in the theatre at Collagesity Heights. Require the townspeople to view it before the meeting; take notes. Then we can make some initial remarks about the eventuality of moving Collagesity to another platform. You have to have a town, right?



Hucka D.:

It has to be tangible in a virtual sense.



Hucka D.:

Then start planning. Not as much the particular *buildings* as what you would want from such a town, perhaps what you can’t have in the Second Life version of that town. Beyond the Rubi Woods. Beyond its attachment to the more ancient Sylver Forest. But write about that as well. Write about all of it before you leave. Because eventually, sometime, you will leave. Okay?


Alright Hucka D. That’s the biggest question of all right now for Collagesity, I guess. Where is it all heading?

Hucka D.:

Right. Goodnight to you. And Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays! I’ll see you more in the coming year.


Thanks again. Talk to you soon.

“This will have to do for now.”

3:35 AM: Insurance.


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