Category Archives: 0112

00480112 (little Cindy Lou?… nah, I got nothing)

Who is this centerpoint character emerging from a blank black background with golden gloved fist extended? I don’t know but I’m going to try to find out as best I can building upon what limited knowledge of modern pop culture I have. Did I mention I’m getting rather old? Anywho, I know just later she stands before a wall of static and speaks her mind about control, YouTube Poop (YTP) remix style.

She is about authoritarianism and against what she called mindless audio/video manipulation — the “poop” of the genre most popular back in the 2000s and 2010s. But all poop comes from what we consume and that is the corporate controlled media landscape all around us in this example. I don’t think she would fair well in our new metropolis, ha.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0112

00470112

“Why are you back, Arthur?” she says after he sits down. “Is it to see the dog? We’ve been through this before. You’ve seen me feed the numbers into the computer to produce the Red Row. And then The Atom, and an (op art) example of what you can do with it. There’s nothing more to see here. Nada.” She had another client coming in at 11:45. It was 11:30. He said he’d show up at 11 to talk to her about something. He was late.

“I want to go back,” he just blurted out, knowing time was short. “I want to go to… Red Row.” He figured there was something more to it. Too many rows named red for one. A 2 fer 1 (!).

“The only thing you’ll see there is proof that nothing is left. The dog is ours.”

“So I can’t even see it now?” He wanted to make sure it wasn’t all a dream. But of course he had his money, extra feathering for his retirement nest. *Something* had been exchanged.

“No,” she put it bluntly. “Not until the reopening.”

The numbers laden dog remained hidden behind the secret bookcase door, a 6×4 mathematical puzzle-lesson with 20 positive results along with 4 negative outcomes at its center core. Just taken by itself.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0112, Cable Isle, Jeogeot, Tennessee, Towerboro

00460112

“Oh, and I also saw Hashima Island.”

“Where? Where??”

“No, silly. Not out *there*. In Japan. What’s out *there*?”

“Nothing I suppose,” Girtle replied to Wamshed, just back from an expensive, extensive trip to the Orient, with 3 continents taken in. But Hashima stood out for her. Ghost island. Bestie Girtle kept staring and staring above the pier just beyond the Night City Marina where they were eating breakfast and catching up with each other, thinking something would appear in the sun glared sky. Why would she think that? she wonders, and then returns her attention to her food and drink and conversation, thinking nothing more of the matter that day in April’s May.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0046, 0112, C2077, Heyworth

00450112 (associations)

After being left alone in the Badlands desert without a male to ogle them, our two Mary Anne and Ginger type girls decided to play a game within the game around a warming campfire to pass the time. After all, Lexi had been summoned and Panama was already there. Just around the corner. She could return. So she did. Sister act. Act 2 of 2 can wait. Still point in the middle.

“It was right around a campfire much like this that the legend of the Burning Man began,” started Panama, wise to desert ways being the nomad she was, an outcast of the city. “A man we only know as Edward D., dancing up a storm to summon… well…”

“Me?” Lexi guessed. It could be so, Panama thought, but she pretended not to hear her and continued. “Soon, very soon, others remembered a rock with a depiction of the scene, along with the glyph 01 + 02 – 03 = 00.” Lexi repeated it to make sure she heard right and Panama nodded. “It all added — and subtracted — up — and down — to zero.”

“Hmm,” said Lexi. “Burning Man,” she summarized.

“But wait, there’s more. If you go to this rock at 3 o’clock at night you’ll find him again. The Burning Man, burning away inside a fire much like this one. You smell the flesh searing right off of him. Or so they say. You can follow him, burning away like a fireball, streaking across the desert…

… then collapsing, the screams finally silent as the fire keeps consuming.”

“Wow,” says Lexi. “That was a good story.”

“Wait. There’s more. So move the clock back to daytime — return. There’s only a dummy there, not even charred. An Arasaka robot, a crash test dummy, or so it’s been described to me.”

“Uh *huh*.”

“And *that’s* the end.”

“Great. My turn now.” Lexi already had a follow-up and was eager to get at it. “City this time now obviously — where I’m from.”

“Right,” says Panama.

“But burning man again, but in a different way.”

“Oh?” says Panama. “How?”

“Penis burn. Or some say balls. Crotch malfunction. But — get this — Arasaka again. Interesting, eh?”

“Eh?” says Panama.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0112, Badlands, C2077, Small China

00440112

I’ve seen this band before. On Corsica. Group called Red Eye. Play King Crimson covers and who knows else. Genesis I believe here. Or is it Jethro Tull? Gentle Giant? Anyway, to the main part of the post…

Cpt. Planetary scanned his world maps for signs of trouble. All quiet on the western front. And eastern… and northern and southern, sides. Yes he has time now for Our Second Lyfe, saving that world as well.

But first, the business of Burger Shot in yet another virtual world, one of many we’re involved in now.

Aeriel drives past the scene, curious about the protesters indeed. “Just down the street a bit” uttered by Cpt. Planetary to his small group of loyalists toward the beginning of this here photo-novel turned out to be moving from present back into the past, V to IV and perhaps before to be more specific. But Aeriel is involved in her own adventure tonight. Heading toward the Big Ear of Bone Country and seeing if the Horns were back on the radar, one or maybe even both of them this time around.

There. In the distance. Listening.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0112, GTA, GTA old, Maebaleia/Satori, X-City^

00430112 (Crazy Blue)

“You know if you keep using that brain-daze, Edward my Eddie, you’ll never get out of Nightsity. You’ll be stuck here forever with your one girl and your one guy, unable to leave.”

“I’m *not* bisexual if that’s what you mean,” he defended his actions, smooching heavily on the girl in a current scenario.

“I know. But your mate over there is, sitting alone right now, waiting his turn. His *turning*. Where do you think this is going, Ed?”

He stared over at patient Arthur beyond her shoulder. The acquiescent hubby.

“What do you recommend? Bartender?” She was a secondary source of alcohol for Edward, her Eddie in this town. After Lexi of course. Too bad she too doesn’t offer brain-daze services or perhaps she could give Lexi a run for her money. He likes Sarah. He likes her heart tattoo. And Lexi likes women and he can’t switch over like that. Then again, there’s always Panama for that. Where *was* Panama? He goes long stretches without even remembering who she is, forgets that she even exists on the fringes of Nightsity, waiting her turn. Patient like Arthur here. For now.

“Blue Moon Kentucky,” replied Sarah to this. “You’ve forgotten she even existed — *exists* still.”

“Blue Moon too!” realizes Edward aloud. What *else* has he ceased to recall?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0112, Badlands, C2077, Nightsity

00420112

“Come in, gentlemen. Welcome to The Truth.”

But then the man disappeared as they walked through the doors. Dead End.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0112, Google Street View

00410112

She was outside using the little girl’s room that had recently become the little girl’s *and* boy’s room, courtesy of her kidnapping of Biff. He acquired inner workings again so he needed to do such things. And he acquired back the bits that gave him other urges June formerly Jane could manipulate. And he wasn’t tone deaf any longer. In short, he was real when before he was mesh. He found he could even draw his Private Dick pistol when needed, if June hadn’t taken it from him. Where was it where was it? he said to himself while June was indisposed, looking under the bed, the chair, the table, the… wine. Ahh *wine*. Another thing he could enjoy now. He uncorks the recently opened bottle. He takes a sip. He takes another sip. He takes a swig. He takes 2, 3, 4. He turns the bottle over into his mouth like it is a funnel, leaves it there. Glug glug glug glug glug glug — GONE.

Smoothing out the ruffles in her olive green gown, June walks back into the cottage. Biff’s turn now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0112, Teepot^^

sounds like Serendipity (people call her Dip)

“Anyway, I thought you’d want to know about your cousin.”

“Thanks, Marsha. We haven’t really interacted with each other in years. But: ‘preciate the news.” She takes another drag off her cigarette, this Serenity Lane, related to Shelley Lane through their fathers who are brothers, she said.

“It’s not like she’s totally gone, though. She’s in here.” And Marsha pointed to her heart to indicate the inside nature of the other Lane now. “Actually she provided me with the (grown up) body during the conversion. The other one, a girl named Brown, provided the gestures and maybe the conscience of the conceived entity.”

“You,” spoke Serenity, still trying to wrap her brain around the concept. A three-in-one, she pondered. Another drag. That means…

“Yes, I’m Marsha ‘Pink’ Krakow still,” Marsha continued, “because of the hair, the hot pink clothes and shoes. But mainly the hair.” She tugged at it, indicating it wasn’t a wig and that it was a permanent part of the body now. Unlike before. Although she had an important add-on of similar tint. Some pigtails. She was waiting for that special someone to show the thing off to. She’s working on it by process of elimination, Arthur Kill (hubby to Shelley) already decided upon and sent away. Next up: Edward Daigle, the fantasy boyfriend inside the novels which were as real as the outside, one penetrating and interweaving with the other. She had a hard time telling them apart any more. But that was yesterday. Today is today. So odd she finds the 1st cousin of one of her 3 constituents in Big Sandy, and not far from the central Rocky Comfort atall, just over the sound from it. Maybe it’s the actual reason she came here. She’s finding many odd things about the region, starting with multiple giant bugs.

“How long have you been here? if you don’t mind me asking.”

“Not atall.” She put out the cigarette in the palm of her other hand and then used the same to count years, no sign of pain detected and no burn mark left. Magic, we can guess, which would continue. “One two three four five,” she said, indicating the fingers in order from thumb to pinkie on the somehow undamaged hand, then again: “six seven eight, let’s see, nine. Nine years.”

Marsha “Pink” Krakow knew the original continent of the Bellissaria complex was only formed 5 years ago. So either Serenity was lying or she was living in an alternate universe where time operated differently. Turns out it was the latter.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0112, Bellisaria, Sandfly

Permaglow

She went back the next day to meet him. She knew to sit far apart and she also wore a mask for extra protection. Many said he didn’t exist but she knew better. She felt the chills of reality pass through her almost daily.

“I can’t… stop glowing,” he said to her across the patio holding the 3 Meter Monument. “I *can’t*… stop *glowing*.”

But what to do for him? Marg was dead. Homer had lost his head. Lisa, yes. She must contact the sister, the author of the other, lesser treatise on the controversial “perhaps sentence”. Not the channeler/psychic Bart was but still the only hope, she knew. And, chance has it, they had a mutual friend, even though she still didn’t know that fact.

Back home:

“Tarnation, woman! TV dinners again?! Where you been all day girl!?” She, of course, couldn’t tell him, except that she’d been walking per usual. Cowboys never see the other side. “I’m going to stake you down with a rope,” he warned. “Just like a big, fat cow I am.” He was close to her face now, rage in his eyes, nose, mouth, everything. Her window of opportunity to help the boy was closing. She’d need allies, at least one. And he was very close as fortune would have it. Now to somehow bring them together, hmm.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0112, Ashton Village, Bellisaria, Pennsylvania, Pickle 02