Category Archives: 0040

from star to shining star

“How far to the Pleiades star constellation formation, Helmsman Pickard?”

“Um, just checking,” replied the red uniformed man to the right, hands all over the controls with much accompanying typing noises. Finally he answered: “About 150 parsecs still, mum.”

Cpt. Extra Ordinary knew that *Earth*, their origin point, was less than 150 parsecs from the Pleiades. She makes a note to replace Pickard with promising jr. officer Lulu U. Hooroo, a black woman from Silver City, New Mexico in the 1950s. She’s certainly capable for the position, plus it will add much needed diversity to the bridge. Not a black, yellow, red, or brown person in sight here, although Helmsman Speck opposite Pickard is half Vulcan. Or so everyone is telling her — she has her doubts still; looks like another white thoroughbred male actor to her from Cookie Cutter California.

Afterwards:

“That was soo much fun! I can’t wait to get to the Pleiades to see what they’ve set up there.”

“Soo… you really think you’re going to the Pleiades, to that distant star constellation formation?” said the woman opposite her, readying to reprise her role as Helmsman Hooroo from the original Star Team series.

“Well, sure. Don’t you?”

“Oh sure, sure. It’s all real. If Dolores Cannon says it’s real then it must be real.”

“Dolores who?”

“The Big Sandy woman. She’s not a channeler after all. She’s a reporter, an investigator. The spirits do not speak through her just *to* her. From various sources, filtered through various human vessels.”

“*We’re* on a vessel,” spoke Mrs. Ordinary, the Extra removed from her name immediately upon exiting the holographic bridge. Yet the unreality lingers. “The USS Galaxy,” she recites. “Class 4a starship, which replaced the class 3b Ararat which replaced the class 2f Cuthand. I know my Star Team stuff. And I knew the distance to the Pleiades. Inept Helmsman Pickard will be replaced the next time we step up on the bridge. *You’ll* be there with me instead. And maybe I’ll keep Speck there, maybe not. Depends on what the blood tests I ordered show up with. If thoroughbred white like I suspect — outta there too. We’ll replace him, yes, with someone Asian, maybe an Indian.”

“Back to the Pleiades,” steered “Hooroo” toward the main problem again, the main sticking point. There was no stage set up for them in the 7 star star constellation formation. Despite what Cannon relayed in Book 1.

I can feel her laughing behind the scenes. I think she may be part of my “council”, perhaps as a counsel.

(to be continued)

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X factor

“I’ve decided not to write trash, Eddie, my Edward.”

“Call me Eddie,” he repeated. She never listened. Much like “cousin” Tessa to Edward, the *real* Edward.

So many faux cousin/lover pairings in this novel already, and we’re not even halfway through quite yet. First there was Eddie and Edward, the faux being affixed to the lover part in that case. Then Tessa and Edward, cousin linked with faux in that example. And now supposed cousins Serenity Lane and Shelley Lane (Struthers). Let’s just have Marsha “Pink” Krakow bring up the last pairing to Edward as they’re laying in bed in their 2n1 trailer, wishing to have their cake and eat it too again.

“Edward?” she said after thinking some of these things herself, mirroring the actual author (me) once more.

“Yes?” he relented, not bothering to correct her now.

“As I was saying…”

“Oz. I know. Rock told me all about it. And Gill. What do you call him? Vain and Artery Boyy, right. And the child as well.”

“Toddles,” she said to this. To please a child, she thought.

“All 3 approached me, Rock and Toddles and then Vain and Artery Boyy separate from them. Told me how much they enjoyed the new novel and the switch of genres and how they hoped you keep it up.”

“Oh. Wonderful! I wonder why they didn’t tell me themselves?”

“Probably…” he shifts his weight in the bed, assuming a more upright position, “because you were visiting that large prison complex over in Rockaway Beach. I myself didn’t have time to tell you until now. Had to keep reinforcing to you that it’s all right, and the, ahem, tour will be over soon.”

“Took some time to get from top to bottom, yeah,” she admitted. She got pretty scared about halfway down, even though the internal bowling alley reassured her that TILE was there, even amongst all this negativity. The light shines through.

Eddie, her Edward, was with her after that — called him over. “So. Are you going to go in that direction, go back to Meat City? Or stay here in Big Sandy?”

Was that the ultimate question? Past Broadwater, the grid took over, Utah to Omega link locked in again until it bent away on the other side of town. She saw this now. She *had* to see.

“Let’s give it a couple more posts,” which is probably what I would have said in her shoes. She decided not to bring up that Serenity Lane wasn’t Shelley’s cousin but her ex-lover, her ex-wife in fact. And now since Shelley was out of the picture she apparently has designs on the “replacement”. Drugged back to Meat City against her will!  Prison of all places. She could have spent one day there, she could have spent a lifetime there. Big. Practically Big Sandy big sitting up there wide and long and thick in the sky.

Back to the sand the way she knew how. With Edward.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0313, Bellisaria, Omega^^, Sandfly, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^, Utah

00400312

They played footsies with each other in the parked UFO before Mythos leaned in for a kiss. Suddenly Horace was back. Laughing. “Damn Horace!” he said aloud and then continued in his mind, reverting to the old way of communication. “You almost let me go through with it!”

The Mind Games were over. Back to Meat City. But first…

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00400311

He was trying to take advantage of the situation, get to know Mythos Roswell better through this new avatar he created on a whim to make a point. He did that sometimes.

“Sure,” he as she answered back about the offered drink, seeing his green alien friend (friend?) had fallen for the bait. He’d set him up well. Loneliness goes a long way toward it. And Fillip and Brindle showing up now and then putting him even further down on himself. Mythos Roswell figures he could use a drink himself, although it defeats the purpose of the first (making a buck — he just gave it back). “What’s your, um, name? Stranger?” he said in his mind. But she answered aloud, surprising him. Was this really Horace? Was the t-shirt, what do you call it, a *synchronicity*?

“My name is Lilly. Lilly Day.”

He stuck out his long green alien hand and shook her normal human one. “Well mine is Roswell. Roswell Mythos, although, like the Oriental way of arranging it, you spell it Mythos Roswell over here on the old continents. So… just call me Mythos to make it simple.”

“I can do that. Mythos.”

“Horace are you in there?” he tried with his mind again. “Horace? Where are you?” No answer.

She orders a second slurpee and he does too. Soon they were careening up Route 2 on a sugar high toward Fillip and Brindle, aiming to brag that they were on top of the world and not them. And soon they were also calling each other sugar. Was this wrong? they kept asking themselves. “Was this wrong?” Mythos Roswell tried to communicate with the mind of Horace again in the UFO they drove up there. “Beats me,” Horance wanted to say back but remained silent, not wanting to ruin the moment. The square and circle as one! Now he as the third can come in and save the Day.

(to be continued (?))

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Oakworm

He was staring at me holding his tiny gun armed with a bad attitude but I wasn’t scared. I was a much bigger green alien after all, half Roswell half Mythos.

“Along with being a triangle,” I could hear the little, wretched creature say in my head, “I am a circle that is also a square. A 3-n-1.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of those,” I said back with my own mind. “About 5 minutes ago when you mentioned it last.” We often played these mind games with each other, both of us being stuck out in the sticks on the far north side of Heterocera, as far up as you can get if you don’t count Fillip and Brindle (which we don’t — more on that story later?). He wasn’t such a bad guy I suppose, except he tends to repeat himself over and over. And the whole tiny gun issue. Those itty bitty bullets can sting a bit. Plus I suppose they could put out an eye if you fired directly into one of them for, say, 5 minutes. About the time it takes to say 3-n-1 twice.

Someone entered the cafe — phew! Out loud talk for a while hopefully.

But when I turned to greet the visitor and saw the square cartoon figure on the shirt I knew it was just Horace again in another guise, trying to make a point. He did that sometimes. Oh well. Better than Fillip and Brindle showing up and bragging about being on top of it all, king of the hills.

I watched in amusement as the two tried to determine how to become one again, the spider web I put up just yesterday getting in the way, ha. Now he’ll have a human doppelganger roaming around in the world for a while until they can figure it out — serves him right.

“Drink?” I said to her, trying to take advantage of the situation. Might as well make a buck off of it.

(to be continued?)

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00400309

“‘And as the Tinsman kept standing at attention while Ozma was still in sight down the grown up road, a small shower appeared seemingly out of nowhere, just enough to freeze him up at that spot for a very long time indeed. You see, he’d misplaced his can before painfully refinding the object by sitting on it, and so hadn’t oil himself in a while since he didn’t have time to use it before Ozma arrived. The Queen of Oz rarely passed through these here parts, and I believe she may have even forgotten about the shortcut afterwards, perhaps all part of that spell which made Tinsman what he was in the first place: completely tin, with not a bit of flesh and blood human left in his body. And so it becomes the Forgotten Road of Oz, famous for where the Woodsman stood until Dorothy stumbled upon him and oiled him back to life, like pumping blood into his dried up veins and arteries if he had any.'” She looked up from the book she was reading aloud atop the Big Sandy knob known as Rocky Comfort and into her listening audience which was also her test audience for the work-in-progress fantasy novel. “Questions?”

“I like the vein and artery part,” offered listening Vain and Artery Boyy below, which Marsha “Pink” Krakow had anticipated and why she fit the passage into the book in the first place.

“Thank you.”

Rock raised his hand. “I have a question.”

“Yes, Rock Ramby. Go ahead.”

“What is a concrete manhole? I know what a regular manhole is. You seem to be interested in concrete in the book.”

“I wish,” answered Marsha “Pink” Krakow in several ways, “to make the book sturdy and stand the test of time. And so the concrete manholes — which are a real thing — get to that later — and the concrete bugs and trees and waterfalls and so on.”

“Lots!” reinforced Rock.

“Lots,” acknowledged Marsha.

“Me now,” said wee Toddles still between them, still acting the role of their child. “What about the ball? If Tinsman didn’t show up at the ball, wouldn’t Ozma become concerned and send a search party to look for him? Is this all a part of the spell too? Maybe the ball didn’t even exist?”

Marsha made mental notes to include what the precious precocious child said in her book. Of course she’d have to give Toddles credit somewhere and somehow.

“Good points!” she said to end.

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when oil is not your friend

Man, that hurt OUCH! There you are!

Anyway, gotta put that out of my mind: here comes the Queen already. Atten-hut! — OW. That really stings! Suck it up Nick. Suck it up.

“Safe passage my lady.”

“Thank you Tinsman. See you at the ball.”

He’s invited!

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Man Square revisited

“Superman!” she remembered to correct about the vision from photo-novels past inspired by her writing. “Apeman and Superman on either side. And then Tinsman, like in ‘The Wizard of Oz’.”

“Interesting,” Serenity said to this, having been an L. Frank Baum and Judy Garland fan for years. She liked the ruby slippers.

“And then… can’t quite make out the last. Anyway, the *4th* we’ll call this man. *Imaginary*”, she recalled. “An imaginary man. Not real.”

“Virtual?” Serenity tried to guess.

“No, nothing like that. Something incomplete.” She put her finger to lip and started to think even deeper. I believe she may have even fallen asleep on the spot, perhaps from lack of nutrition. Yes, let’s go with that.

She had a dream where she was the sponge, the little square being from that television show. Bahahaha! she heard coming out of his mouth. He didn’t understand the square before him at all the Tinsman beside it was explaining, even if he was the same. Other shapes would have to be pulled in.

She woke up beside Serenity in the bed. Had she been drugged instead?

“I hope it was as good for you as it was for me. Shelley who?” she attempted to joke once more, and rolled a bit of Marsha’s pumpkin blonde hair around her little finger in a loving gesture that perhaps Brown within would appreciate most of all.

(to be continued)

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00400306

“The guy in the pineapple?” she said. “Yeah, I know him. Of him.”

We were back in the trailer of Serenity Lane, a neighbor not far off to the south. Marsha “Pink” Krakow ran out of cereal and was going door to door to see if anyone had a box of something — anything — to lend her this morning, being the addict she was. Serenity was first on the list, since she was the only green dot around. So maybe last on the list too. Marsha found it to be a very successful visit in more ways than one. Before she left with the box Serenity said she could even keep and that she was an addict herself in that department and that she already had one box of that particular brand so have at it, Marsha decided to stay put for a while and talk to the affable avatar of 16 years, old even for this area.

“How’s the 3-n-1 going?” Serenity started the post-cereal procurement conversation after laying down on the bed in what Marsha thought was a bit of a provocative pose. Is Serenity gay? she couldn’t help thinking. *No*, Marsha. Get your head out of the gutter for a change! She’s just a potential *friend*, which you need desperately (she kept thinking).

“Oh, it’s fine. I’ve found a boyfriend or decided on a boyfriend I guess is a better way to put it. Eddie D’Aigle, from even down south of you here. In Soggy Bottom, near the bottom of Big Sandy. I suppose at one time it was even soggy,” she tried to joke.

“Hmm,” she said. “Do you know Fred down there, then? Fred Mercury. Came to the sand and the sea to help his complexion.”

“I… don’t think so.”

“Anyway, you were telling me about the 3-n-1; how it’s going.”

“Great. Like I said, I have Edward–”

“So you’re dealing with the other two within. Who was it — Shelley of course, my cousin, or who *use* to be my cousin.”

“Still is,” Marsha “Pink” Krakow reinforced. “She’s still in there.” Marsha didn’t add that she just “escaped” last night and went on a bit of a wild spree, Brown in tow. “And Brown,” Marsha remembered to add.

“The… gasper, you described her. The 3rd. Gesturer. But not Jester,” Serenity attempted her own weak joke. They were getting along swell, Marsha thought here. A potential friend indeed.

“Right. The 3rd.”

I’m trying to remember when and how Marsha brought up Spongebub and the crop circles. Probably when she revealed what she was writing about to Serenity as they got even closer, but *not* one on top of the other. Yes, let’s go with that.

“So I sat back and looked at what I just wrote — trying to do it in the style of Shelley, you understand.”

“I understand.” Serenity had had her own big bowl of Kellogg’s Woot Loops about a 1/2 hour back, just before Marsha showed up. So she was happy to keep talking. Marsha, however, found her stomach starting to rumble. She didn’t have much longer before she needed to leave. Better be quick about it. Thus the talk about the writing, the core of the mystery, she felt. If Serenity understood this, then she checked off the biggest box in the friend application process.

“Bone to spaceship, obvious reference to 2001. Which made me start thinking about men.”

“Sure it did,” Serenity attempted to quip about the bone part.

“No, 2 men.”

“Even better!”

“*No* (huff!). It was an Apeman and then a Spaceman. I knew this to be true. Past and future combined into something not quite as good as either separately. But that wasn’t all. There were 2 other men on either side. I suppose I would be in the center, watching it all, as on a television show. Do… do you know of Spongebub, the square little fellow who lives under the water with mates Starr and Squid?”

And this is where we came in.

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00400305

We he awoke, Marsha “Pink” Krakow was no longer floating with him, having been replaced by Dogg. The dissonant chords of a distant electric guitar roused him. Then shortly joining in with the deranged strumming: drums. Marsha had found a new partner of sorts.

He checked his phone messages. “Be back when we’re finished practicing.” Then skip several lines: “I have a new band!” Well great, he thinks. A rival for her attention for certain now.

“Realous?” said the great dane behind him, reading over his shoulder.

“You bet!”

“Ret’s take a ralk and talk.”

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