Category Archives: 0020

July 19, 2020 · 7:34 am

Judgement

Although she was still probably the 256th most craziest thing in a crazy town of 256, it was determined by the court that Yoko Ona most likely had high functioning autism. Thus the lack of facial expressions. Thus the focus on marriage as a 50-50 split. She didn’t ask for more, but she also didn’t expect less. John and she were one zygote, traveling toward a rebirth across the universe. There was nothing evil in her since she was acting logically according to this premise. It was divide and conquer to others but just separation from unity for her. The verdict: innocent for reasons just listed. She had to undergo therapy. Thus the reason for the construction of this additional floor in the Burger Joint building. Her mental health and well-being were just that important.

All the witches in the coven chipped in to pay for it, Mid-Hazel footing the largest chunk. They all showed up at the first meeting, ready to support. Prosecutor George A. was not allowed, since he would just focus on the spitting, the humiliation for blog owner Baker B. in front of a cluster of Heartsdale fisherman eager for a show. Any kind of show in that milquetoast town. Baker B. through Baker Bloch forgave her.

The elemental battle within Toppsity was just theatrics, the court also judged. Tronesisia was not dead. Most likely she would appear again, fully functional and unscathed, in the next photo-novel (21!).

Yoko Ona had already been rejected by the town, thrown head down over the wall about a 1/2 year back, only to find her way further south, in the *deep* deep south, to Cassandra City to attempt to create a roshambo triangle, one hand on top of another hand on top of another hand and so on and so on. This created the bomb.

She *had* to make up for it, reverse the powers as it were. Another zygote affair. She and John together synthesized World of Lemon to parallel Lime World (aka Linden World or Lindenwold) in order to heal Our Second Lyfe and make North and South function together again. In the other directions, World of Lemon controlled the East, Linden World the west. From *Our* Second Lyfe perspective, it all begin in Da Boom with a great boom signaling fusion and spread. From the *other* way, we have Ratzenberger as the original sim and its absorbing, black (hole) rabbit, a sucking mechanism. All this was logical and true, one begetting the other (begetting the other). The problem had not been solved because there was no problem to solve. All was good, all was balanced.

—–

I have decided to downsize in Our Second Lyfe and My Second Lyfe in particular. Corsica turned out not to be the be all end all of mainland continents, the best fusion between virtual and real, namely through the state of Pennsylvania. All this still applied, but Peakology in and of itself is not the way forward. Neither is Sinkology, although that may be closer. With this I have created the Sunklands Institute from the old Blue Feather Building of Collagesity and set it down near the middle of the Heterocera continent, its eye. I will not worry about North-South-East-West from this point on as much as *Center*. I have made stories of all mainland continents and a good number of estate regions. Corsica is essentially “covered”, along with Jeogeot, Satori/Maebaleia, Omega, Gaeta, Heterocera, Sansara, Nautilus and even Linden home masses like Nascera. I have taken Collagesity about as far as it can go. I do not make collages any more outside of the photo-novels and that context. It is time to go home. Heterocera is as close to home in Our Second Lyfe as I can get. I have to return to the source.

END OF “COLLAGESITY 2020 MORE MIDDLE”!

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July 18, 2020 · 10:23 am

Keith B.

Sacky Doll (the band) made a sudden reappearance in Toppsity 11 years later, attended by Bert Bright, best pal Bud Dimm, and best gal pal Abby [delete name]. Since all 3 knew the band members, they were also invited to the rehearsal, but only Sun showed up, announcing himself by saying he was between a Moon and a Star(r). He was egotistical and self-centered in that way, flying too close to himself perhaps, with a fall likely anytime soon. But who was this Sun? No one in the crowd seemed to know him.

“New drummer,” responded Bert Bright to the sight on stage.

“Same as the old drummer,” amended Bud Dimm, innate facial recognition kicking in to make up for lack of brains.

“He *is* old,” added Abby, trying to decide all night between the two of them. Like black and white pillars they were around a central heating system.

“Bert, Abby, Bud, would you come up here on stage? I want to share a secret with you.”

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July 18, 2020 · 9:25 am

Duke Duck

The fires were finally going out in the Toppsity area, but Gabby would not let brother Amos die in Vain. Never mind that he died in that field next to his house over there across the road. Images of Amos’ beloved Sacky Doll started popping up here and there around the town, starting with a trickle and ending with a flood thanks to Gabby’s friend Marilyn, who was helping out again the way she could. The good witches were working above and beyond the bad ones. White had displaced black at the top of the totem. Cat balance had been restored, or was being restored. Dogs go home — bad dog, bad dog! The Dead had become a Danger again.

Speaking of Cassandra City…

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July 17, 2020 · 9:36 am

07 01

“Today, class, we’re going to talk about a historic event that happened right here in Toppsity. It was 11 years ago. No doubt many of you remember what I’m talking about.”

“Oh, I know Mrs. Orchardsity. Was it — The War?” Abigail always wanted to be the first to guess one of Mrs. Orchardsity’s queries. Most often she was wrong, like this time.

“No Abby,” — for that’s what she wished to be called now. Abigail was too formal, and she told the teacher and other students at the beginning of the semester this in no uncertain terms. “The War was further back in time. 1873-1874.” Catalina Orchardsity knew that it was really 1873-1873 but tacking on that extra year sounded better to the ears. Catalina Orchardsity was not a strickly “go by the rules” teacher. She bent the rules. She bent history a bit too. Because she knew it was malleable in the first place. Her ultimate goal was to eliminate The War altogether. Stretch it out in time until it was too thin to exist. Right not it sat fatly in the middle of 1873. She knew it had to start moving in order to lose weight, lose significance in time. This is what the coven taught her.

Bert Bright who always sat up front, second chair from the left next to his best bud Bud Dimm (2nd cousin to Dimmy Gene who we’ve already met in this here photo-novel), spoke up. “The Witch Trials.”

“Precisely, Bert…”

“I was going to say that,” grumbled Bud Dimm to his side. He always muttered this to one of Bert’s bright answers.

“Now, now, Bud. You know Bert is *much* smarter than you. Take it like the little man you are. Chin up!”

Bud raised his chin up. He liked being reinforced that he was much dumber than Bert; gave him an excuse for his lack of answers. He was satisfied with the brain that life had provided him and wanted no further advance in society than a low paying, menial job. He had been taught well.

(to be continued)

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July 16, 2020 · 8:41 am

loss 03

“I watched her and Linda Halsey dance and dance around the sacred circle, waiting for a pause where I could insert my question, which was: What is the future of Collagesity in Urqhart? I needed to hear it from Golden Josephine or Rhiannon or whatever her name was currently. And Linda Halsey — still Linda Halsey, and not Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child. Another “bad” sign. The Tower card turned up when she appeared at the table a couple of weeks ago, taking CLPHC’s place there. CLPHC equals Collagesity intact and remaining in the area. Linda Halsey equals the opposite. Destruction; derezzing. There was actually no use in hanging around. Observing Baker Bloch knew this as a fact. There was no need for a clarifying card. But Baker forced the issues anyway.

“Hey!’ he called to the two dancing fools for girls. “A little help here!” So rude. Not very characteristic of Baker Bloch either. More a trait of, say, Roger Pine Ridge.

Golden Josephine didn’t stop prancing. Neither did Linda Halsey. But after a moment, Golden called over her shoulder: “Whadda you want?” The music was intoxicating to them, and probably to Baker in a different way. It was a combination of Roger’s “On the Run” and Judy’s “Over the Rainbow”, twirling in and out of each other like the two dancers here themselves. Must be a match.

“A clarification card!” shouted Baker over the music. Or an attempt to. There was barely a hole to find in the combo, so dense it was. Like two people sitting in the same chair. The music and dance went on and on. Finally Golden Josephine broke free. Linda kept doing what she does now. But the figure was different: Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child.

Baker points as Golden Josephine approached. “What gives?” he asked about the transformation of the now lone dancer.

“Let’s look  at that card and maybe we can tell.”

—–

But something else then came up. The *real* Rhiannon made an appearance, replacing the fake, golden one. She seemed to be in tune with magical juxtapositions as well. She was also thinking of giving up her land adjacent (or thereabouts) to my Collagesity. She told me about the runes on a mushroom near me. I asked her if I should just have the question in mind and then touch “spread”. I knew little about runes. She affirmed this. I chose past/present/future. I had in mind this was the past/present/future of Collagesity itself. I didn’t want to just ask if I should give up Collagesity in Urqhart (or thereabouts). My desire was to broaden the picture a bit.

“What do you think?” I asked over. She was multitasking like myself. I was, of course, creating this blog post. She was working on her fairy forest.

Then she was gone, wishing me luck on my choices before leaving. “But…” I cried into the void now, “I don’t know what it means!”

Maybe it means nothing — and it does for me, in this moment. I didn’t need clarification. The meeting with the actual Rhiannon told me everything I need to know. Thank you.

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July 16, 2020 · 8:08 am

loss 02

“Marty says he’s leaving Urqhart and that his new house is too ugly, Hucka Doobie. There’s also a wall between him and his neighbor who owns Urqhart Hill — this Rhiannon or Golden Josephine I suppose. Remember when the Tower card came up in a reading for Collagesity in Urqhart, Hucka? Seems now it may come to pass. The Collagesity tower will be destroyed by lightning, casting out the 2 owners of the town, Wheeler and me. Does this not seem to be what is happening Hucka?”

Baker Bloch looks about but broken-hearted Hucka Doobie was nowhere to be found. She had already moved on.

Baker was still hanging around but barely.

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July 16, 2020 · 6:29 am

loss 01

Rocking Roger Pine Ridge was blunt. “Why would I want to leave, Baker Bloch? I have everything here. And now there’s (an Iris) mystery hole, as you guys put it. ”

“*You’re* one of us guys, too,” non-rocking Baker emphasized from the couch more away from the view.

“Maybe.”

“And, besides, I didn’t think you liked it here in this swamp village I think you termed it at one time.”

“Circumstances change. Look… you can see the Moth Temple just beyond that palm tree with a long draw. Can you see it?” He points forward.

Baker Bloch didn’t want distractions tonight. “Yeah, I see it,” he replies without attempting to see, trusting Roger Pine Ridge’s claim. It was a looonnng draw at almost 2 sims, he estimates, but probably reachable. He took RPR’s word for it.

“Oh,” began Roger Pine Ridge after a lingering gander at the beloved temple which he thought of as the center of His Second Lyfe as a whole, if it wasn’t now the *hole*. “The girls make a ruckus downstairs on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and sometimes Sundays. Alternate Sundays I believe. But it’s only for a couple of hours in the afternoon and they clean up nicely.”

“You’re talking about Flip and Magika Bean,” Baker Bloch attempted to clarify. “The wrestling duo.”

“Yeah, who are actually Wheeler Wilson and Baker Blinker, I know. But they like their new names. And, like I said, they clean up…”

“Well,” Baker finished this time. “Better go. You think about what I said. Cassandra City might offer more possibilities than here. But then he dared to look out and extend his draw distance and suddenly doubted it. Yeah, the hole sealed the deal. Roger Pine Ridge, along with neighbor Grassy and Wheeler up more toward the temple itself might be here for good. He’d have to face that fact. Face the music of that fact. “Time,” or “Beach”. Depending on the way you flip it.

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July 15, 2020 · 11:05 am

review

Cassandra City still holds promise but probably not for this here current photo-novel. Baker Bloch must take his leave, rented apartment in town unused. Big Dick, a Phil actually, waits patiently in the corner of his hotel lobby, looking forward to more communication through the aether.

—–

Story possibilities in Heartsdale, a major driver early on in photo-novel 20, have most likely been exhausted as well. Let’s return there for a similar, final shot: Baker Bloch in front of Small Wood posing with Teddy, a black and white horse owned by an avatar named Zero.

Both glimpse Philip Strevor through a broken gate to the sidewalk. Strangely, the duplicate Yoko Ona that also walked around this particular Heartsdale block is gone now. Yoko as a whole has probably moved on from this sim.

—–

There seems to be more in Iris, a place to be focused on still. For example, there’s a kind of, um, inexplicable “hole” in the center of the 4-5 sim region owned by [delete name], who may actually, in Real Life, be [delete word]. If so, *Crooked* seems to be a link. The prominence of the Moth Temple seen in the background here, the “eye” of the whole Heterocera continent, could play a role in the hypothetical overshadowing of this mystery spot.

—–

Toppsity? I’m not sure what took place in the trial of Yoko Ona. We *know* that she spat on Baker Bloch when he tried to turn her right-side up from upside down while both were fishing in Heartsdale Bay, the last Heartsdale related post in this here photo-novel actually. You don’t spit on the chief avatar of a blog, the one the owner most identifies with, and get away with it — at least in the blog itself, where we still are last time I checked. (pause) Yes, I just checked. We are still in the blog.

But the witches of her coven eliminated original judge Tronesisia: drowned, with a possible saving ship arriving too late in the early afternoon after the late morning accident. Then the several witnesses we know of — Miss Raincoat (aka Sammy Whatammy), Uncle Stinky, and probably Crayola as well (aka Tammy Whatammy?) — have all been linked to maleficent forces too. Wait, let me check that again. (pause) Uncle Stinky has *not* been associated with such forces. He still can be used by the prosecutor George A., who we’ve not talked about since that particular post either. So we should return to Toppsity and finish the trial. Defendant Yoko Ona may be called to the stand herself. *That* could be interesting.

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July 14, 2020 · 7:57 am

crooked

—–

Philip Strevor was his own boss for a while but that changed when he entered the Red Room and met Casey One Hole, the bastard. From then on, he worked for him; boss no more. Instead he was a grunt man, bullying underlings and upward mobile wannabes. Like Whatammys except transparent. Sammy Whatammy, aka Miss Raincoat, waited in the waiting room to be seen next by Philip. Then it was Yoko Ona (upward mobile wannabe) and then Zapppa (underling). The place was still heavily bugged.

—–

“Never mind the sign,” he made the obligatory apology to start. “I’m not the boss any more. *He* is. He calls the shots, sometimes golf shots, sometimes other kinds of shots, if you know what I mean.” He stared at Miss Raincoat/Sammy Whatammy, expecting an answer. “Do you *know*… what I *mean*?” he repeated more sinisterly, as was appropriate at this juncture. He’d seen it happen. He didn’t want to see someone face that kind of music again. Pizza!

“I testified just like [delete name] wanted me to. I said all the words I was suppose to say.” She repeated some of the words here: “Underwater. Sinky. Blub blub blub. Just like [delete name] told me.”

“Why can’t you say [delete name]?”

“[Delete] what?”

“The name of our (actual) boss. [Delete name]. Dang! Now I’m doing it too. Must be [delete word].”

“[Delete name][delete word] is obviously [delete word][delete name]. Reversed.”

“*That* bloodied vampire? That imbecile? Impossible.”

“I believe [delete word].”

“*He’s* Casey One Hole? Played by ever method actor Tom Casey? Dang!”

(to be continued?)

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July 14, 2020 · 6:17 am

blub blub blub (sinking)

Sammy Whatammy went home after work and just sat here usually. She never saw sister Tammy. Nammy and Pammy never called — it’s like they didn’t exist. Only Crayola and herself, waiting for this mysterious boss to show up.

“How long was it last week? 3 weeks?”

“Welllllll,” replied Crayola, stretching out words with her large red mouth like she’s wont to do. “Tiiiimme does work difffereeentllly upp therrrrre.”

Looking down at her still normalized shoes, the only bit that remained, she remembered why she never saw Tammy: Witchery.

“Yooouurr cryiinnng. Wouldd youu like anotther sheeetttt?”

—–

Two weeks and 36 bar shifts later, the boss shows up, golf club in hand. This was his club, and Sammy and Crayola were his slaves servants.

“Hey!” he harshly cried through the underwater window. “Wake up in there and open the door!”

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