Category Archives: 0202

impressionable

“There’s nothing in the church birth registry about a Paul Duck, Snowbob. Or any kind of duck atall. Looks like we’ve wasted our time here.”

But Snowbob thinks otherwise. He’s figured out who his *real* parents are.

They’re the same as his children.

(to be continued of course)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0202, Wendy-Ontario

00330202

In a place run by cats, there were always a lot of naptimes to get the information he needed. Like the actual scoop on the Poop Pool, as it was called locally, at least behind closed doors, often in the middle of the night when a faint whiff of the former smell could be caught by those who’re perceptive. Deputy here had been out since about 8 now, hugging her little froggie toy until the wee hours of the morning. Eddy Daigle, cousin to our Edward Daigle already met in part one and originally sharing the same name, sniffed the air. Faint but perceptible. He hit delete on the sheriff’s computer and the file about it was permanently gone, as if the problem never existed. Much like Edward from his name, revised and revamped to the more colloquial Eddy after 5th grade when he also switched first and last names to hide the connection even more. “Daigle, Eddy” he liked to be called after that, 2 steps or functions away. And he was from Montana, not Louisiana or Maine or, especially, Illinois. Unlike that John L. Brown we’ve yet to come across in the current novel but who played a part in the last one, small but effective, like a rat silently and stealthily tearing away at the insulation in your walls, leaving you eventually laid bare to the elements. John L. Brown was a bad one, and deserved to be behind the bars of this here law enforcement establishment.

Uh oh. Deputy’s rolled over and lost her grip on her little, favorite toy. Sheriff’s snores on the couch over there are getting a little shallower and further apart, REMs decreased. Soon dreaming will be over for the fellows, Eddy knew. But he still couldn’t find the second file he wanted. Best to pack it up, come back tomorrow. Or after, actually, the next town animal banquet when the ferocious gazelles would bring more fresh kill from the beaches and the water. Snorklers this week. Could even be some deep sea divers mixed in next. That would put them even more under for his clandestine night operations; would allow him to get more work done, dig deeper.

“Daigle, Eddy” knew he wasn’t kosher and that saved him many times from being on the wrong side of one of these feasts. 9 times he had been saved in fact, making him part cat himself. Thank you great great grandma on my father’s side! He licked his hand softly as he does instinctively every now and then and shuts the laptop off and heads home.

No one in the cell right now except a member of the Bad Katz Gang, who was turning her back to the illegal nature of his visit. He hoped to change that soon.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0202, ENIGMA, Nautilus, North, Wild West

retired, 2nd foothold (between black and white)

“So here we are again. Water. Mask. But you hear me clear as a belle.”

“So pretty here,” Baker Bloch deflects, emphasizing the so so much he shows up. “Oh… hello.”

“Hello,” Peter Soso says cheerfully to his side, just glad to be a part of the action again.

“Always someone between us, Baker Bloch,” she says in response to the manifestation. “And look. Now Prissy has arrived. Just because I said *that*.”

“Hello,” Prissy says daintily in her octave higher register. Both arrivals merpeople, both in love. Unlike Baker and Wheeler who are faking it at best. Instead (for them), a Prime Minister-Queen relationship, with no King involved. Unless Axis-Tropp counts. And I suppose he does, at least up to two.

“We’re back to square one,” Wheeler who is not a mermaid exudes, joined feet a false narrative. Likewise for the male Baker. “257.”

“We’re just off the coast of Alien Island and that is something to hold onto,” he says. “We’re on another lead. We’re still in the Wild–”

“Don’t say it,” she requests, thinking of Adam. And his own Eve. She postulates: Baker took over. About 2016 or 2017. About the time of the first third photo-novel. Passed the baton. That’s perhaps the only reason why we’re *here*, at this far point in The Pattern. On the Shoulders of Giants, she also ponders. Time to give something back.

“Someone else approaches,” topmost Prissy says, her head strangely merged with the surrounding kelp, weed in sea talk.

Just later:

“It looks like, sir,” Peter proclaims, “that you are still trapped in black, at least a byte.”

He took my hat! Baker thinks instead of correcting him with “bit.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0032, 0202, Alien Island, Long Islands, Nautilus, Wild West

Silver King revisit

“If we keep focusing on Nautilus I think we’ll be okay, W. The link with Iowa.”

“Successful,” concludes the other. She seemed happy for a change. Or at least happier. Maybe the change of scenery did her good.

—–

“Where to, Hucka? Post, Texas?”

“Next post for sure, ha. Have you peed yet?”

“Forgot, sorry.”

“Get on back in there, then.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0031, 0202, Bay City/Nova Albion^, Crisp Sea, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Sansara, Wild West

resemblance 02

Baker Bloch comes back to study it, knowing he was summoned.

“What do you think it is, W.?”

“You know what it is,” she replied, still beyond the frame. Probably Wheeler don’t you think? Maybe not.

“Oracle,” he answered. Both were thinking, of course, of Carrcassonnee. She’s returned (!).

“You put the eye in there,” she stated, ready to move beyond the veil, “and you’ll *see*.”

I wonder additionally if this is Borneo. Borneo to Delphos, actually. “Whadaya think, Blackey?” he says to his bird on his shoulder, the same size from this angle as the blackbird in the background more in the center of the beach, highlighting its name. Staring up as well, Blackey thinks hard. He knows it has something to do with TILE.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0202, Nautilus, Southwestern

really big shoe tonight

“We bagged him,” Gotham remembered later. “Green as the grass we just smoked.” He was both right and wrong, as he often is. The vision, the hallucination, was real enough. He just couldn’t pin down Time and Space amid all the Options. “I… remember… looking down at him.”

“Those eyes, yes,” Man About Time agreed, having experienced kind of the same thing. Sort of parallel visions, at least for about 20 or so seconds, just enough to finish the joint, pliers extracted from a green, yellow, and red pouch between them just earlier. Gotham always came prepared. He had to. Else: chaos; lost in The Abyss. He didn’t want to go there again until it was unavoidable, like every night upon falling asleep. 20 or so seconds was all it took, the last toke for both of ’em. Indeed: they had bagged one.

Dare they go see if their joint vision had produced reality?

“He’s in that tent. I know he is.”

“Nah,” countered Gotham. “You’re an inexperienced toker. You don’t understand how it works.”

—–

“Told you.”

“Look! At your foot.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0029, 0202, Chilbo^, Corsica, Instabar^, Jeogeot, Maebaleia/Satori, X-City^

spheres and cubes (still at center 02)

Original parents had plans for the Nautilus continent still. Diagonal.

And sneaking up on people.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0028, 0202, Nautilus, North, Upper Austra^

halo for horns (4:20)

He sat in the Master House, contemplating how to get from here (Metropolis; pretty nice, pretty big; kinda sensual in an open sort of way) to there (Superduper City; huge/labyrinthian; filled with secret places of full-on sensual desire). He had plans; made paintings even, although he doesn’t really consider himself an artist and has no training in the field. He’s just that excited about the subject; will investigate any avenue of possibilities. The Oracle had revealed his path of destiny, especially in Virginia or thereabouts. Middletown. He had a name. Now he just had to make the megalopolis. He had a beginning, a toehold. But to create a Superduper City he must forge a Superduper Man to be at the heart of all things. He’s working on that as well. He’d sent the bug long ago to effect a weakness, an Achilles Heel. If only he could track down that renegade Martian angel angle that could ruin everything. On it (once more).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0202, Metropolis, Nautilus, Upper Austra^

3 cores and a dummy

The train was 2 full and so that’s how they all met. Jerry, also named Harry; the nice Indian man Hidi the hamburger woman started to date afterwards — the proximity was just too close in there; and lastly but not leastly, Kolya, the damaged one. All we needed was Alysha to walk in and take a seat opposite them, but that was for later. In the here and now, we have the 7 merging into the 6, secret smile discretely packed away like a traveling trunk for boys.

“I knew he was damaged and we shouldn’t touch so I turned the other way.”

“Toward… Jerry,” I guessed. I figured the red complexioned Indian dude might be named Jerry as well. Jerry Lind perhaps, compliment to Jenny.

W thought back to that important time and place. They were traveling at a breath-taking speed, destination unknown, perhaps to New Delhi and Delhi and thereabouts again but maybe not. The white tiles flew by outside, almost at a blur’s pace; opposite of turtle or snail. We were in Wallytown I knew that. W didn’t seem to be able to really leave, now she’d met Jerry Lind (we’ll keep calling him). Giant for a day and maybe giant forever. If Wallytown had its way.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0202, Omega^^, Wallytown/Fishers Island^

topic at hand

“Get it?” she asked. “It’s (a) trapped *rock*, then a picture full of rocks, a rotating one. Rocks.” She held out her hand which was balled into a fist. “Now you try,” she requested while snickering. Let’s see, I thought, rock beats scissors? Or was it paper — no, paper covers rock. Which one would I choose? Do I let her win, or lose? “The paper is one,” she says into my mind, short term product (curse?) of another spell. “The rock is zero, and the scissors are two.” She molds her still outstretched hand into the appropriate symbols while saying this. “Who do you know that is a 102?” Me, I realized. “What about the quartz?” I tried to deflect, but which led directly back to rock.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0025, 0202, Canada, Canada/Picturetown, Maebaleia/Satori, Outer Islands