Illuminatus eyed the bluebird who’d just flown in on the window seal suspiciously with his most closed of 4 eyes.
“Harrison,” he muttered. “Harry.” He got up off the 256th most crazy thing in the sim and walked toward Centre again.
Category Archives: 0205
not what they seem
There are so many stories to tell about Corsica, as it’s turning out. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do an adequate job. How to match the potential of the continent??
Always the peaks not too far away, always surprising me with their appearance. Peakology to complement the already established Sinkology? It might be so.
I’ve hardly begun to scratch the surface. Better get back to Bena…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0205, Corsica, Southwest
Snowlands
While he was in this confined space with limited view, Herbert Gold liked to increase his draw distance so he could see the mountain. One day, not far down the road, he was going to climb that mountain.
Yes, this place for his house would work. April Mae should be arriving tomorrow from the Omega continent, vacation with gardener in tow *over*. Thank God. But he can’t speak much about that… because of Merry.
“Merry, Merry, Merry,” he lamented, looking at the computer screen again and contemplating when to dump the smoking gun *this* time.
A noise (a *plop*?). He opens the other door to his study.
But no wee ones here. He misses them. He’ll ask Baker Bloch if there’s any way possible to bring them back.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0205, Purden/Snowlands, Sansara
choice
“Believe me, if you go down this Breeze path you’ll never get out of here. Change your hair, change your life. The gold will go and you’ll never be the same. Trust me. I know.”
“My– my kingdom or queendom thinks me bananas for hanging out around mainland, let alone *here*. Bananas, I said (she nods up). That’s my attempt at a joke to lighten the mood.”
“It didn’t work,” the other responded. The one that had already succumbed to the Other Side. Humor, lame or unlame, was not allowed there. “I think you should go with that hole in the wall next. The cave. The owner will be proud and surprised she could rent the place. (Small) homeless camp right outside. Convenient to this, um, downtown. Guess you can call it a downtown. And this beach, for what it’s worth.”
“I’ll think about it, erm, Other Self. What did you say your name was?”
“You know my name.”
“Breeze,” Merry Gouldbusk pronounces while staring at her and realizing. “Me in the future.”
“Lucky you,” Future Breeze responds quickly. She had seen enough of the past for tonight.
—–
She went to see where she once lived. The cave or hole-in-the-wall existence didn’t help: she still succumbed. And it’s available again. Too bad time can’t loop back upon itself, she thought, or I could go back and change things. Make sure Merry never published those photos, took those shots. “The Rose and the Thorn” could be a good title for this story, pheh.
—–
“No, there’s something still missing, Merry. Tell you what, let’s do another experiment. Let’s lose the golden skin this time. Keep the girly hair, lose the skin.”
“You mean, just take it *off*?”
“Sure. Just temporary mind you.”
—-
“Yeahhh. That’s it. You go girl!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0205, Jeogeot, Neptune, NWES Island
truths
She wasn’t named for this gray scale alien. Instead: the gray scales of a fish to oppose the blue feathers of a bird. In toto: Grey Scale Kimball of the South pitted against Blue Feather Douglas of the North. Bird, sky, opposed by Fish, sea.
But in staring at the crop circle picture again hanging in the recently reconstructed House of Truth at the very center of Golden Sink, she’s beginning to think she *is* named for this famous, highly complex 2002 crop circle that miraculously appeared overnight in a field of wheat near Pitt, England (locally: Crabwood Farm). Both “grey scale”. Too coincidental.
http://www.cropcircleconnector.com/anasazi/wormholetechnology.html
Crabwood of August 15 was one of the most famous crop pictures in modern history, but no one could really understand its message. As shown in two pictures below, the schematic face of a “grey alien” was drawn within a large “rectangular box” that contained 60 horizontal lines, just as for an early “mechanical” TV image, chosen in the 1930’s because we use 60 Hz AC power. The variable width of each line then creates different “gray scales” (modern TV screens use far more lines to give better pictures):
Next, that rectangular box with an alien face was carefully aligned so that it would point at two, nearby TV-radio towers. This was as if to say: “Yes, our new crop picture is really meant to represent the TV image of a grey alien.” In other words, those crop artists can only see the alien “from a distance”, where the word “television” means of course “seeing over a distance”.
Now in one lower corner of that rectangular box, the crop artists also drew a “spiral disc” which contained an elaborate, ASCII-coded binary message as shown. I have omitted all concerns for punctuation or capitalization here, for increased clarity, especially since the last five bits of an ASCII code give one of 26 letters in the English alphabet.
In summary, the crop artists sent us a brief “computer recorded message” on CD or DVD, to accompany their TV-type image of a grey alien. Was Crabwood really alien-made? Many investigators thought so then, and continue to think so now….
And then there’s *Maebaleia’s* Crabwoo, she ponders further, another rectangular box (2 side-by-side, square shaped sims) whose northwest corner just touched the eastern edge of the Blue Feather Sea.
Original capital of the North before its decline and eventual death circa AL 1812-1814. Ur home of Blue Feather Douglas who derived his her name from the sea. Her arch-enemy. Her… sister? Doppleganger? Is he even a she? We’ll most likely find out soon enough.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0015, 0205, Georgia, Golden Sink, Maebaleia/Satori, Maine
psychopath
“So what do you think?”
“Nice. Elements of TILE. This will do. For a while,” she tacked on.
“Of course.” Big Wanda shifted her sturdy legs. “You know you didn’t have to shoot that girl. She wasn’t doing anything but doing her job.”
“I know.” Little Oakley Annie waved her heavily used revolver in the air with this. “I just didn’t like the way she talked. Too nasal.”
“You shot her in the *nose*. You didn’t have to do that.”
“She lived. In fact, she’s right over there at the coffee shop. She came with me. We made up while you’ve been away scouting for a new place. I bought her a new nose. Plastic. New place; new nose.”
Recalling the awful scene, a surprised Big Wanda looked away from Lake Como, searching for the pot peddling girl they’d met in Rethymno behind them. No luck. Instead, Little Oakley Annie and her gun pointed kind of toward her own nose dominated the view. “You do believe me?”
“Umm. Of course, Little Oakley… Annie.”
“Because if you *didn’t*…” Annie positioned her gun more threateningly, the face obviously a target now.
“Of course I believe you,” Big Wanda reinforced, starting to sweat.
Little Oakley Annie then threw herself back on the rainbow colored recliner, laughing. “Because I didn’t… she’s dead.”
Big Wanda gathered her legs under her again. “Oh.”
“Yeah, that face was pizza after I got finished with it. Which reminds me… I’m starved. Any place to eat around here? I’ve had enough coffee.”
Obviously, thought Big Wanda, but dare not say it aloud at this moment. Must remember not to buy LOA any 4 shot expressos again. Nor talk in a nasal way in any shape or form. Talk through the mouth, talk through the mouth, talk through the mouth…
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0014, 0205, Horsa, Maebaleia/Satori
art
“Hmm. I should catch up with the deported Roger Pine Ridge over in Iris tonight.”
—–
“It’s bigger than your apartment in Collagesity, Roger,” Mmmmmm Grassy Noll attempted to pursuade. “Better views probably. You can see all the way to the Moth Temple if you squint.”
“I don’t want to squint,” replied Roger Pine Ridge levelly. “I want my eyes wide open all the time.” He looked at the surrealist painting that came with the apartment; indicated it to Grassy. “And what’s *this* suppose to be?”
“It’s a Dali.”
“That’s not a Dali,” Roger Pine Ridge quickly corrected. “I know Dali. This isn’t one of his.”
“Sure it is,” countered Grassy. “Here, let me just click through the paintings. It’s a set of 4. 4 Dali’s. Surely you recognize the famous melted watches painting.”
“Yeah, that’s one of his. The butterfly ship is not,” insisted Roger Pine Ridge. “Wanna make a bet?”
“I tell you what. If that ain’t a Dali then I’ll talk Baker Bloch into sending you back to Collagesity and ending your sentence here in your ‘swamp village’ once and for all.”
—–
2 days later:
“Ahhh. Good to be home.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0013, 0205, Iris, Rubi
lesson learned
“He must have come here after walking across the bridge, Sidechick Corea. Hi Sammie!”
“Sammie seems to want us to go inside, Magus Ellen,” observes the younger man.
“Dog’s tale, yess.”
“We better change into something else.”
“What *you* got?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0012, 0205, Rose Heaven-
centr-AL
Being the super tree genius genus she-he is, Core-Alena quickly found the secret way to The Basin and its Dead Sea already traversed by players Cloe Price, Eraserhead Man, and others. But the gun toting, glossy green avatar had to be ditched in the process. And a name had been decided upon: Alfred or Alfreda Mobile — Al for short. Sometimes in caps, depending on if you’re yelling (Where’s that Mustered?).
However, it took him-her another *5 years* to find a way back to Virtual from Reality inside the game. A straightaway on Foothill Drive just outside Kamas UT, another shout out. 1800 miles from AL where Mobile started. Marion and Francis equidistantly n-s of of the quaint, tourist town were of course the keys. Swamp Fox; Hidden Village. Virtual itself, or at least the Omega continent, the one that counts right now. Rhode made sure of that. Rhode Rhoad Road.
Driving up and down the connecting straightaway (known from here on just as The Straight), Reality to left, *potential* Virtual to right, Core-Alena understood that not one but several trees could act as a portal. All probably did. For example, what looks like a willow at 2013 Foothill Drive…
… and certainly this queer, leany evergreen at 1890.
Core-Alena just decides to pull in and try it tonight. Being a tree her-himself, it would be easy to pull back out. As long as The Straight is not too far. All trees know each other.
Ahh, yes. Home again! And this strip of land obviously acts as one of those Between Places she-he’s learned about.
But Core-Alena ends up using the 3rd spotted tree portal at 1719 for the final transition — a duo this time — because he-she can take the car this way, which seems essential. Just before Foothill Drive bends away from the portal line on the north side, unlinking Virtual and Reality. Just in the nick of time, in other words.
And soon to be in the middle of it all again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0205, Alabama, Google Street View, The Straight, Utah
inheritance
“Beautiful. Isn’t it?” Tin Tin spoke of his beloved river forest, the one he even claims to have been conceived in (!). He pointed upwards from his position. “One of many merged tree types here. I need to make a count of them; survey the woods.” Perhaps you could help me, Young Ruby, he thought silently to himself. Might we possibly make a Tin Tin II here (hehe)??
Ruby certainly liked the trees but didn’t think Tin Tin’s self named Glinda measured up as a whole to the Rubi Woods. Not even close. No leafy grass for one thing. No mysterious inundations all over the place for another. No, this is not worth an intense study if you asked her at this present moment. And then there was the problem of what lies all around it. This was a hole, a void, in the center of a cacophonic symphony of energy. But, true, it *was* energy, she thought. Unlike the old continents now. Our Second Lyfe is certainly not what it use to be. And she can now point to a particular date: July 1, 2009. Working on 10 years ago. Utopia and the resulting chaos-freedom split asunder. Apples in one basket, oranges in another. Or perhaps lemons and limes in this case. These fruit cases, umm…
“Let’s go back to my spot on the river,” Tin Tin shouts up, snapping Ruby out of her reverie. “Have a picnic or something.” But Ruby argued they should return to her — *their* house in the democratic empire. “It’s all very close,” she then compromised. “We can come back most any time.”
And talk about and work on that Tin Tin II, he machinated inwardly. Pleasant images indeed.
Here they are walking past The Spot. Tin Tin glances down, wondering if Ruby might change her mind about that picnic. But too soon, he then decided, and walks without talk for a while.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0010, 0205, Ruby's Empire/Fishers Island
Sunklands 