Category Archives: New Island

show i can all

Old Reading Man and Little Reading Light were the first to arrive, and, big surprise, each whipped out a book from their deep pockets and began reading.

What LRL was scanning had more to tell. St. Croix’s Diamond Keturah, but the Keturah was missing. A seismic activity earlier in the day had temporarily erased it from the island’s map. But the name would return soon enough. Such things always do.

Later, Biker Jones and Ranger Johns guarded the entrance to the meeting room, keeping out riff raff like the “reading twins” as they jokingly called them. “This is an *action* room,” they said to Old Reading Man and Little Reading Light after arriving, and told them to remain sitting in their seats and just keeping on doing what they’re doing and stay out of it.

Meeting room. Action galore. Tronesisia led the charge, but many more straggled in between 7:47 and 8:01, with Carrcassonnee the last to arrive, saying she’ll just, “squeeze her big butt in against the wall over here,” as she put it. So: Carrcassonnee lives!

Others present, going counterclockwise from Tronesisia: (floating) Wyn Galbraithe from Lapara, Cardboard Derek Jones (no relation to doorman Biker Jones that I know of), Redbot, Old Man Baby…

…. and then, continuing to circle around, Carrcassonnee, whom we’ve spoken about, then, er, I guess that’s Doogie Martin (?), then Grey Seal who just wallowed out of the nearby sea to join in, then Furry Karl (another resurrection?!), and then a figure most commonly called Pietmond Boy in the blog, I believe.

Let’s pause here before continuing the character introductions to gander at two art pieces on the wall, the first hung directly behind the seated Pietmond Boy. It might be familiar to regular blog readers, being, at the base, the same as the famous painting “My First Sermon” by John Everett Millais, mentioned in Martin Gardner’s “The Annotated Alice” as probable direct inspiration for Tenniel’s illustration of Alice riding in a train in chapter 3 of “Through the Looking Glass”.

But there’s some twists here. Parts of what appears to be *another* picture bleed through around the edges in mysterious, blobby patches. We see the image of several ducks — or at least their heads — just behind or beyond the seated girl, for instance.

And then on the opposite side of the door from this, a now sideways Bunneh 02 and his egg and candle holding cushion cover up what appears to be another figure, perhaps from a bathing beauty poster, say, like in a mechanic’s garage.

Then continuing our introductions, we have Ben Thar (Mr. Bean cutout, actually) beside the Bunneh 02 art, then Bluebot (counterpart to Redbot across the room), then Second Lyfe founder Philip Linden standing behind Tronesisia in the corner, and lastly Ross C., another robot who may be a servant or some equivalent to the central Tronesisia.

Out in the hallway, yet another robot, named Claude — a golden hued gezzer made in ’25 — attempted to do the unspeakable to same just before the meeting (about 7:47). To excuse him *just* a bit, he *does* remember Tronesisia from Bennington when she was a mere pleasurebot and not the important and distinguished Collagesity novel character she’s known as today. But at any rate — and very justly of course — he was then promptly banned from the Meeting Room by Tronesisa who obviously spurred his advances. Get to reading the Collagesity graphic novels, Claude! Tronesisia has come a long long way from where she use to be back in those dark days.

Claude was only there because his perpetually smoking and toking brother Punky was acting as receptionist for the gathering out on the front porch. Claude had to drive his sibling around since he lost his feet in that rabbit tossing accident in ’92.

Punky was also known for his womanizing ways, and, similar to his brother, made little to no attempts at hiding it. Many times they had fought over the same “floozy dame”, as they sometimes termed them.

In yet another room of the house, Original Eve (still macabrely clutching her dead child Oliver), Pigpen from the Grateful Dead, and couch sitting Norris/Harry waited for their chance to join in. It never came.

Nor did it for the 3d Venuses who just showed up at 8:15 with *way* too many friends and were barred from these kind of meetings for life.

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Filed under *Second Life, collage, New Island

greenborn in white carrot red/all i can show

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Filed under *Second Life, New Island

form in back

“You’ve gone too far this time, husband of mine. And you better get home — you’re changing over again.”

“So can I keep it?”

—–

“I recognized him immediately, The Bill.”

“Bill will do. We’ll think about the royal appellation later.”

“Okay. But it was definitely Smelly Santy. You remember — from the Mission. The eggs, Bill. They must have killed him (!). The Bennington experiments.”

“Nasty place. Even I would admit that.”

“And then you would meet another Bunneh on your way here. Bunneh 01 and Bunneh 02, then. Maybe it happened the same night even.”

“It did,” assured Bill.

“Baker Blinker thinks it may even be this Leeman or Leemon who designed the other New Island. I almost said ‘more real’ but caught myself.”

“Right. Both New Islands are equally real. And there’s a third we haven’t talked about.”

“Russian,” Baker Bloch stated, ignoring mention of the third for now. “Before independence, his New Island was Russian territory. I’ve been reading the relocation guide. I believe the place is as real as Australia, as New Zealand.”

“India,” Bill added. “Indonesia.”

“But not any more real than, um, our New Island.”

“No, not really. Because we, you and I and anyone else who cares, can *go* to our New Island. Physically for us; virtually for our users.”

“But one is latched onto the other. They are — not two plants from one seed. What (expression) am I looking for?”

“They are like babies from the same mom. Which begs the question: who is mom?”

“Mum,” Dwayne speaks in sync from the side. “We’re so sorry. The chef has burnt the tuna. Would you like to substitute perch for the entree?”

“Perch, perch, perch,” complains The Bill, back in form. “Perch at Perch, go get the perch at Perch. The perch is the best dish at Perch. Always pushing the perch. Well…” and she sends a riveting stare at Sidechick Corea’s brother, formerly out of a job and down on his luck in Heroin Town, “serve me the tuna, burnt or not. Serve!”

Dwayne scurries back to the kitchen, retrieves the burnt item, then tells the chef to pack it in — he’s done cook’n too. We’ll catch up with the chef’s story (Money 4 Nothing) later, for he would get his revenge.

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Filed under *Second Life, New Island, Rubi

bunnehs

“Baker Blinker. Come here. Quick!”

—–

“Just because I have the ring doesn’t mean I necessarily have to go back to Collagesity and be queen. Does it?”

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Filed under *Second Life, Iris, New Island

Roses Pencilvania

“A SPHEROID BEING, Robot! Just in front of Ruby’s BLUE ROSE Dune! TOP SECRET STUFF, right Robot?!”

“I guess so,” his mechanical friend and neighbor replies. “It *was*.”

“Like LAURA from ‘The Return’! Like BILL!”

An awkward pause ensued. Robot Derak Jones was hesitant to correct Eraserhead Man played by the great David Lynch on the name of perhaps his most infamous creation. Eventually one of the cameramen spoke up.

“BOB!!” Eraserhead Man then echoed around a good majority of central New Island. “How could I FORGET THAT?!  Played by the LATE GREAT FRANK SILVA! THANK YOU, JIM!” he shouted toward the cameraman. He then faced Robot again. “I’m now going to TURN UP MY HEARING AID so we can SPEAK IN PRIVATE!”

“All right.”

“REMEMBER,” he said before adjusting the dial, “speak at a WHISPER from now on!”


Sidenote: Eraserhead Man’s new palm trees seen in the background.

—–

“But that Eraserhead Man was halfway wrong about the situation. The sphere being lies *between* the two dunes, one red and the other blue. Both roses of course. We need to talk with whoever lives in that high castle in the background. He or she could have seen what happened.”

“Well…” says Annie to her faux niece Ruby. “*He’s* right behind you.” Ruby whirls. Axis waves innocently from the table.

—–

“If only we could hear what they’re talking about right now.”

“Hold on,” Axis then offers. “I’ll rewind it and then turn up the sound.”

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Filed under *Second Life, New Island

centerpiece

Martian Mabel so desired to remain Queen of Collagesity on “Earth”, but she knew she had other responsibilities for now. New Island would stay an always perceived/felt aberration, to her and others, unless she came here and helped resolve the whole situation. This morning she invited closest confidant and former Mission resident Turchin McGurchin over for counsel; her right hand man in many ways. The Mission project had been aborted and Precious Snowflake’s Rainbow Sphere files moved to a safer location.

“Roger Pine Ridge represents a problem,” Mabel continues. “He’s looking for them.”

Turchin McGurchin tears off another piece of his cheese croissant and gobbles it up quickly, like someone else would do it for him if he didn’t act fast. Mission training in effect here. “Roger is useless,” he then says, mouth still full and chewing away at too big a chunk for its space. “Our joint user Baker B. had to move the whole Sunklands operation from Ink, Arkansas to Ink, Missouri because of him, but to no avail. He tried pushing him into the big sink there — no good again. He unwisely gave away a server to Sunklands Ink in Marked Tree, Arkansas and now needs it back. The Reality Module of the blog is currently inoperable. Not even Dr. I.C. Yourinsides can help.

“But we’ll need her later.” Mable pauses, looks over at Annie’s nudes displayed in Swanson’s Art Gallery next door to her right. Turchin follows her stare. “We’ll have to cut them out of the picture.”

“Which one?” the grizzly old man ponders. “You mean Annie’s pictures as a whole? You mean the *bits*?”

Mabel reconsiders. “Yes,” she finally speaks.

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Filed under *Second Life, New Island

no narrow escape

Dr. I.C. Yourinsides knew that this narrow boat would never make it off the wide New Island beach. The magnetic attraction of the place had snared another one.

For the moment, Tessa laid the blame somewhere else. “Oh no, Grandpa. What have you gone and done *now*?”

Sh-t, he thinks from the back. Can’t steer this thing worth a lick!

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Filed under *Second Life, New Island