“I was hit by a bullet, Frank! Not hit by a car.”
Frank moves up behind him, stares at the image frozen on the screen too, in the exact center (again) of one of his many Youtube poop videos he’d been watching since the return. It could be that he can’t send him back down to the land of the living after all, he thinks. Mouse just keeps reappearing here; time loop. Center: something about center.
And the whole man-woman polarity he’s running away from so hard in his mind. He must embrace!
“Psst,” Wheeler whispers over to Carolin after commenting on the 2 Coopers. “What’s Spongeberg doing here?”
“Oh,” said Carolin, looking over at the couch where he was sitting, just biding his time it seems. “I was going to use him in this particular scene instead of you. Then I thought since we were talking about your name and all and your prominent role as chief female in the blog, I’d just have you enter instead.”
“Oh. Well, what’s he still doing here?”
“Oh, umm, well. Umm… I guess he must still be pertinent,” she realizes. “He’s, er, a resident of this area after all, along with that being his last name. “Spongeberg Resident!” she calls over, jolting him awake from his micro-nap. “I’ve decided to have you in this scene after all. Come over here and join Wheeler and me. I assume you know Wheeler.”
“Everyone knows Wheeler,” he said distantly but moving closer in his cool, sauntering way after managing to get up from the couch. “Especially me.” He was upon them.
“Hi Wheeler.”
Carolin waves for her.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0215, Lower Austra^, Nautilus
What’s going on here? artist Barry De Boy w/ glowing red tie wondered about the meeting in the wee woods. Pirate treasure? he picked up. Islets of Langerhans?
He then notices it moving toward the group from between the legs of the nearby elephant giraffe. Dali Tiger. Was he dreaming? He must be dreaming. But in pinching himself he doesn’t wake up. Finished with the legs, the dream tiger was upon him, AAHHHHH!
With a start, Barry, sans tie now, woke up on the couch in his new Jeolla rental perched atop a scenic cliff. Wendy, still in a pure white dress instead of her usual striped one, was already kind of awake on a nearby chair, having sort of observed him through the night. She’d been summoned but had arrived late. Barry was already asleep by the time she showed up. She didn’t think it wise to rouse him. She wanted to see what would happen. Would he put the tie on again? Would he have one of those Dali dreams?
Turns out it was so.
“So let’s start with the doppelganger, the green one.”
“Fern.”
“Welll.”
—–
“We first have to get to rhythm and pitch. Opposites. Remove pitch and you still have rhythm. Remove rhythm and you still have pitch. Keyboards (which I play) are pitch. Drums (which he plays) are rhythm.”
“Okay. Good start.”
“These are the musical differences, stark right up front. But then dig just a little deeper and you have similarities within these differences. The Kinks represented the first bonding point, before Bowie.”
“Right.”
“And we liked the same albums by The Kinks. Unlike the guy who worked for Norwegian.”
“Yes, he liked ‘Arthur’ and ‘Muswell Hillbillies.’ You liked ‘Village Green Preservation Society’ and ‘Lola Vs. Powerman’. These albums all line up 4 in a row from ’68 to ’71 (their ‘golden years’, along with ‘Face to Face’ from ’67), subtract the ’70 soundtrack ‘Percy,’ which was considered a more minor work.”
“Right. And my doppelganger also liked ‘Village’ and ‘Lola’. And he expressed difficulty getting into ‘Arthur’ without my prompting. *I* had difficulty getting into ‘Arthur.’ And as I recall we both really dug ‘Village.’ Hard to say they made a better album, although I perhaps like some of the individual songs more on ‘Lola’ than any on ‘Village.’ ‘Village’ is, in a way, a perfect rock album. Better than ‘Sgt. Pepper’s’ I would venture.”
“Yes, so that was kind of an original link. Now you must ask: why? Why the mutual attraction to The Kinks and even the same albums, unlike that dude who worked for Norwegian?”
“The guy who worked for Norwegian represented a contrast. To instead show the similarities between my doppelganger and myself, and how it could be different. We *speak* very easily.”
“Yes, so we have a foothold. Now move to Bowie (and others).”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0215, Nautilus, Upper Austra^
“Of course I knew Cary, of course I knew Madison,” she says more to her audience beyond the 4th wall than the actual person in the room with her. “One was the former sidekick of world famous musician Jonny Silverhhand of Sunamai, now fronting his own almost as famous band. One was the future mayor of the whole of frigg’n Nightsity itself. But how do they fuse… here in Kabusie?” She turns back to the window, staring at it as if she can see through the blinds — not blinded. “What secrets are you holding in your narrow alleys, your… canals and notwhat? Channels, something.” She blows out cigarette smoke toward it, as if trying to obscure the secrets even more.
“Well. I’m glad we cleared *that* up,” I said, watching the smoke dissipate into the blinds and the light between them.
“Yees. But you’re here for your assignment of course. Wondering when we’d ever get around to it.”
“Well…”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0044, 0215, Blue Feather Sea^, C2077, Kabusie, Maebaleia/Satori, Nightsity, X-City^
The generally accepted rule is pink for the boys, and blue for the girls. The reason is that pink, being a more decided and stronger color, is more suitable for the boy, while blue, which is more delicate and dainty, is prettier for the girl.
–Ladies Home Journal, 1918
“One question, brother of mine. Why does it have to be blue?”
“Because pink doesn’t work,” answered left horned Jer to right horned Benny. Opposite in so many other ways too. “I tried it with Evelyn. You know what happened to Evelyn.”
“Sure I do. She turned into a boy.”
“Did you know,” said Jer, “that in the early part of the last century the colors were reversed and that pink belonged to boys and blue to girls?”
“Sure. We know that *now*.”
“After Evelyn, yeah.”
“After Evelyn,” echoes Jer’s weight challenged brother. But he doesn’t seem to mind. He can have all the girls he wants anyway, thanks to the power.
“If we want to get back to 1919, this is the way to do it. 1 after the 909.”
“Word.”
1 year earlier:
“W–what happened to the Hills, Jer?”
“We’ve *failed*.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0215, Hana Lei^^, Nightsity
In this “Amazing Digital Circus” teaser, ringmaster Caine directly references Kane (Pixels) and his famed Back Room bacteria creature. Knew it.
And then there’s the abstracted Kaufmo clown character from the pilot, who some spell as Cofmo. Including me here. Poor Cofmo. But good guy (?) Caine takes care of the immediate danger for himself and his still intact circus employees by banishing the poor transmogrified creature to an underworld, underwater realm.
“Honey? Honey? Snap out of it again. Look at me look at me. Honey?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0042, 0215, ADC, Back Rooms, Hana Lei^^
“There. That was me, Alice. A wolf caught in the bright headlights.” CHANGE
Lazy girl Marsha “Pink” Krakow had seen and heard and felt and tasted and touched enough in Paper-Soap. Back to Cass City to wrap this section up, she said in her mind. Just after she finishes nomming down this delicious sewer popcorn.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0041, 0215, Paper Soap, Soap
“Hurry, dear. Hurry back to the 2n1 trailer before it’s too late!”
And so Eddie unstuck her golden VW from the drift once more with his golden shovel and they drove away, leaving Edward behind to his own devices. Grilling was not a specialty so he’ll miss that aspect of their partnership. But he’ll manage. He has Wanda as a backup after all.
*Tessa* (sorry!).
—–
“You know we’ll have to say we’re cousins to keep living here on such low rent and all.”
“Fine with me,” and she finished peeling her banana and began to munch.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0215, Bellisaria, Omega^^, Sandfly, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^
He was wore out from surfing so he decided to re-energize a bit. Banana should do it. “Just one?” asked Gloria to the request, now working at Hana Lei. “All I need,” he replied in his nasal, boy-ish voice. With his small frame he could make it go far. No need to over-weigh himself. “Help yourself, then,” she said, indicating the bowl full of fruit beside him. “Thanks.”
“Couldn’t help noticing your moves out there me laddie,” said the anthropomorphic turtle beside him, deciding between apples. Ah heck, he thinks, an orange will do, and orders one from Gloria. “No no no, changed my mind, ” he then said as Gloria indicated the bowl again. “I’ll have what he’s having.” “Same place,” she said, hand still extended toward the bowl. “I… don’t want to run you out of them. No, I’ll take an orange.” She turned with this, tired of dealing with him. It was like this every day for the experienced surfer. So good on the waves, so bad on the food. Maybe his ability to choose well runs out when he sits back down here, she rationalized at one point. Thus the reason for the bowl in the first place, actually. He helps himself.
After the selection (orange, no banana, no *apple*; but which one?), he returns his attention to the boy and the spotted talent. “Lessons?” he queries between bites… of something. I believe I detect crunching so probably one of those apples.
“You mean, have I *taken* lessons? In surfing?”
“Yeah. You have talent. If it’s natural then more power to you.” Say my name, he thought. Just say my name.
“Nah, no lessons.” Another noiseless bite from the lad. “I think lessons would just… *ruin* it for me.”
“The talent,” the turtle replied.
“Yeah.” More peeling and another bite. “I learned that quite a ways back. Wrote a treatise and my, um, mentor marked it all up with red. Top to bottom, mind you. Then she changed hair color from red to blue and it all went away, all the corrections. ‘Perfect already,’ she said, scooting the suddenly unmarked manuscript back to me from across the table. So I’m a natural at things — that’s what she said.” Special, he added to himself. Special special.
“Newton’s the name,” the turtle-man said, and extended his apple-less hand to the kid, who shook it. “Newton Jasper, like the liquor. Except backwards.”
“Jasper… Newton?”
Bingo, he thought, and changed directions, facing out to the sea again. His true home — this was just a stop between dives. “Some call me Jack,” he said. “Friends call me Jack. Tell you what, you call me Jack from now on. Eh?”
“Jack,” the yellow *rapscallion* amended, also turning. He’d been here before. And, there, he was starting to glow again. Just looking at them continue to roll in.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” the turtle said, noticing too.
“Sure am!” And they were both at it again, remainder of the fruits tossed aside during the running from land to water.
“Cowabunga!” the turtle shouted as he jumped on his board.”
“Hey, don’t eat my shorts!” the likewise surfing boy responded to this. And so it continues…
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0215, Hana Lei^^
Sunklands 