Category Archives: 0402

May 17, 2023 · 5:53 am

mistletoe doorway (heater presents again (6578 (Xmas mugs)))

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lynching_of_Bernice_Raspberry

Bernice Raspberry, also called Ed Lively, was a 23-year old African-American man who was murdered in Leakesville, Mississippi, on May 25, 1927.[1] Raspberry was arrested for an infraction in Leakesville, but then the sheriff was told he was wanted in nearby Bothwell for “alleged improper conduct with a white woman”. Raspberry was taken to Bothwell but then taken back to Leakesville, for safe keeping. A group of some 100 masked man took him from the jail, strung him to a tree, and shot him many times.[2]

https://bakerbloch.wordpress.com/2021/12/29/00300701/

“You!!??” they cried even louder, seeing before them now the white woman associated with raspberries who loves black. “What *is* this??!!” they demanded.

—-

Returning to the scene of the crime:

“Blue and yellow are overrated, Arthur. Red and green have redeeming qualities too, despite not being quite as perfect together.”

“Like us!” Arthur Kill emitted with this, and leaned over to take a drink.

“Which one is darker, which one is lighter?” said Shelley, also partaking of her own drink. “6 and 7. Very close indeed.”

“Soo… this is about TILE?”

“No, silly. It’s about a *kiss*.”

(to be continued)

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March 25, 2023 · 7:00 am

00370402 (party 02)

By the time Shelley and Edward had arrived, Sandman, as most called him, was on his 3rd rosé served by Rose. He missed a clear look of Shelley in the dying daylight, although he had an interesting face to face with Eddie, as he called him, later on. Before this, he started confessing to Rose about some of the situation. “Presents,” he began, shaking his head. “They were all in my mind.”

“There, there,” she said, then popped the cork again and hovered the bottle over his nearly empty glass. “Another?” He waved it off. “Better head home soon. Nothing to see here.”

But before he was able to get back to the boat, Edward, having separated from Shelley, stepped in-between. “Amos,” he said, using his first name instead of last, the only one I can think of to do so. Perhaps the only one who even knew what it was.

“Eddie,” he responded. So it had come to this.

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January 5, 2023 · 4:42 am

trance dance

Ted just liked to watch. He told his crooked blackbird on his shoulder to simmer down as the lights dimmed and the band took the stage. With the dancer. Light of His 2nd Lyfe. Why he was in Flamerider in the first place, although it was always nice to visit with his old friend Sissy. He pondered again a possible connection between her and another Sissy he knew over in Comma Islands, the one who lived on an actual top of one of Corsica’s famous standalone granite peaks instead of just below one — in the shadow of one — like here.

Then, surprising him, Sissy came out from behind the bar and crawled into the cage beside him, starting to gyrate herself to the beginning trance music. What was he thinking? There *was* no dancer onstage. Just here. His eyes had been opened. But to… what?

“Squawk!”

“Shhh, simmer down, I said.” But Blackey 02 had spotted it first. Another caged bird emerging from the shoe, a parrot it appeared from his angle, pink in color again. Like Sissy; the dancing had caused this.

The cage began to expand, soon filling up space itself.

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November 1, 2022 · 9:02 am

Spider

The town was rather a jumbled mess of buildings, but Shelley didn’t stay there long, taking the path of fellow Klancasterians Dixon One and Dixon Two before her and heading to Omega mountain country for purity, cleansing, or so they attempted. One came back but the other one (Two?) didn’t. We still don’t know which, thanks to the built-in ambiguity of these here photo-novels, 35 in a series of 35 so far. And last we saw of bride to one of ’em, Snowwhite Well, a mutual cousin, she was living with giant chickens over on the Maebaleia continent, as old as her Maw now — the Dixons’ Aunt — and just as aged of skin. She thought visiting monarch Greyscale Kimball was a tithe collector and was going to sic Gander, the biggest of the fowl, on her. But turns out they had a common love for reading, and a special fondness for the epic novel “Moby Prick”, so famous in that land where it was set, uniting the highest and lowest of classes in this case.

Point is, the Dixons were searching in these mountains for treasure that was right in front of them all along, smack dab in the middle of their hometown: Snowwhite Well herself, as she tried to explain to them in Vain (a suburb). Now, I don’t think Shelley is looking for treasure as well, at least this version of herself, but she found some anyway, in a tavern in Morgan about as Oriental and far away from the Occidental West as you can get. This was the Tesseract, this was the Hypercube.

She turned away from it at first, not believing her eyes. It was dressed up like a circus dog and set inside a display cage. The 4 repeating numbers over his or her head had been removed. Why would Roberts do this? she thought. She had to get in contact with Arthur again somehow, make that Lemont somehow. She was not on The Cross but she was still trapped, East becoming West and North becoming South every other day and every other week respectively, as she soon found out. She had jumped from the fire back into the frying pan but it remained hot as hell in here. Then she began to hear them, soft and sloow. “Two.” “One.” “Three.” “Zero.” A human-like feminine voice, surprising her, with a bit of a hiss in it, like a serpent. No barking or yelping detected. Then it started again. “Two.” “One.” “Zero.” “Three.” A bit of a break and then again: “Two.” “Three.” “One.” “Zero.” And again and again. She had to listen to them all, the 24 permutations of those 4 cursed numbers. She finally turned after it was over, sweat dripping off her body, making her long shirt-blouse wet at the stomach, neck and back.

“What *are* you?”

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August 21, 2022 · 9:31 am

afternoon

She stared and stared but she couldn’t wish a day gone to return. Munday it is, Munday it remains. Like hamster. Hers should be coming soon.

She overhears some of the conversation from a couple of tables over; her purpose for being here. Something about channeling. Something about triangles.

—–

He walked into Slice, waiting for the mathematician. “Duck, please,” he tried at the counter. “No Duck: chicken,” said the Slice employee, a Mrs. Wiggins I believe. She didn’t even mention the hamster. She knew he wasn’t here for food and had to repel him that way. For emphasis she made the number 5 appear in one of her hands, a sign of non-acceptance or non-compliance. Stop, in other words. We don’t dispense that crap here.

“Barry?” Marsha “Pink” Krakow called over from Eyela’s former seat. She was finished with her hamster and sucking her teeth as inconspicuously as possible. The channeling/triangle couple had gone. She had absorbed again.

“… Mom? What… are you… doing here?”

Well you ordered a mathematician, she thought but didn’t say aloud. She should be at church and he should be at work. But they weren’t.

—-

“I’m just going to check that calculation with my phone, Mom. Hold on…

“Damn.” She’s good! he realized. This could work.

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June 19, 2022 · 10:15 am

sports trivia

“OK, Tom, we’re ready to roll again,” he hears in his ear PRESS.

Tom the bartender is recording. Should be OK and it was. Geronimo, Slick, Olive. Then: *himself*; and he was careful not to mention his real name to Eyela and Newt. Yes he clearly heard the word Tom followed by Kite. Then again several sentences later to the west, Watson this time being the follow up word. Two famous golfers named Tom, he realized after a pause. “Kite probably means drugs,” he later relayed to his boss after Eyela and Newt had left the club, “as in ‘high as a…’ (he was good with wordplay). Watson points to something deeper, blacker even. I’ll check on that.” He removes the recording device from his shirt UNPRESS.

U.S. President Jimmy Carter grew up at Archery on his family’s farm from age four, in 1928, until he left for college in 1941.[3] In Carter’s time, the population consisted of approximately 25 black families and 2 white families, namely the Watsons and Carters.[5] President Carter recalled in 1976 that Bishop Johnson was “the best-educated, most famous, the most widely traveled, and the richest member of the community”.[9] The Carter family remained at Archery until 1949; ownership of the Carter property was transferred to the National Park Service in 1994.[10]

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April 5, 2022 · 8:08 am

00320402

The first thing to be destroyed in the dismantling of Fordham’s Collagesity was the 128 meter long spaceship of skybox 03, intended to be used to pack up Collagesity itself in just this very event. It remains clunky and unpractical for its purpose. Gone after saving to inventory.

Baker also deletes the skybox 03 base cubes, including the teleporter needed to reach it, and drops down to skybox 02. More painful here: Baker is quite attached to this aerial town centered by the golden calf that is Claudette: the grassy arena where Peter Ladd performed his lame comic routine to an audience of his Uncle Babyface and perhaps others; the abbreviated Kidd Tower on the other side of town that acts as the residential unit; and then…

Baker Bloch can’t do it. Not tonight at least. He has several more to decide. The clunky spaceship was an easy choice. Now it gets more difficult when we move closer to the ground.

And then, heading down to skybox 01, there’s the problem of the Nautilus map and its over 100 strategically placed pins now. My idea: to transfer all this to the “Iowan hypercube” displayed in my GoogleEarth file (Oracle) but it hasn’t been successfully accomplished yet.

Seems like, to me, as I ponder this further, that Collagesity has at least another month to live. I’ll renew my membership on a month to month basis. Subtracting the rental connecting the two parts of Collagesity — the main 8 and the now disattached 9th representing the Temple of TILE and its grounds — frees up 15 dollars a month, reducing the total cost from 50 to 35. New decision date: early May, when novel 32 should wrap up. Synchronization remains important.

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January 28, 2022 · 9:35 am

when the levy breaks

“When did you get the new tattoo?” he asked over to me from his own blanket, lotion finished for now.

“Oh I don’t know,” I nonchalantly replied. “About 15 minutes ago I guess.” I was applying blog time here, because I’d only recently decided to expose the thing. TILE Manifesto. I knew where this was heading… kind of.

I felt Ted’s eyes look across me toward the elephant ride on the mainland beach. Corsica is a looong continent, I heard him say in his head, thanks to Fern’s temporary spell. He also said he’d give it a 10. She was pleased. No need to redo the legs any more. But to the information I *really* need.

“Ted,” I said. “Ted Bear.”

“Yes?” He rolled back and stared into the blue and white umbrella but he was still smiling. Always the smile now. He was dreaming happy things. Like more lotion.

“I know you’ve told me about Jenny and how she freed up Baker Bloch so he could go to that pyramid in de skies. Jenny is… prudish.”

“Yeah, she doesn’t like what I’m doing on this islet. She wanted Baker away from that.”

But to the thoughts. What is he really thinking? She scans but no luck. He was back on her. Pondering the back. The orange and violet would have to wait, zebra’s eyes X-ed out for now. Probably all for the best, she thinks, and starts to apply again. Next post!

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December 2, 2021 · 7:04 am

Wild West

He kept looking toward the window beside the door at me instead of the action in the ring. In the ring.

“New around here?” asked Lichen Roosevelt, tending bar in this here town until her big break as a singer comes, national anthems being her specialty.

Axis-Windmill kind of looks toward her, kind of doesn’t. “We’ve met many times before, Marilyn,” he deadpans.

Marilyn? she thinks. Hadn’t heard *that* name in a long time. “Well… can’t recall. Many, huh?” She keeps wiping the wine glass in her hand, although it’s perfectly transparent now. She looks through it at him, watching his distorted steely eyes move here and there, sometimes toward the door, sometimes at her, sometimes in-between. But not at the action. Another lift, another slam to the canvas for Joey. Poor Joey Avatar. Looks like a rain of pain coming tonight. How did *she* get into this mess?

“That’s right,” he finally answered Lichen. He walks toward the door. He opens the door, telling me to come in and join him. He indicates the tables to his right. We sit down, no words between us. We watch Lichen tend bar. The action in the ring (in the ring) wraps up. Victor Eugenia O’Neill moves toward the bar, decided what kind of drink to order for Joey to make up for breaking a couple of her nails tonight. Usually: so gentle, so careful. Must have been the full moon, she reckons. Grasshopper should do it, extra mint.

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October 13, 2021 · 7:41 am

Hooktip again 01

He was in a new place, highlighted by purple. Mushrooms all around.

He wakes up. “Witch dream,” he mutters, looking over.

“The cat dreams, you dream,” she says, already involved in her morning reading. Not good today. The Sun. No Moon in sight. “See? Itchy also stirs below you at the same time. I’m sorry: *Scratchy*. Do you remember Scratchy?”

I sit up, trying to remember how I got here. True, I was walking toward the place, then…”

“Trying to recall?” she guessed correctly. “I had to bring you here to replace Duncan. Duncan doesn’t need to return to these woods. His karma is done with it, George (ward) too — Buster be damned.”

I sat up more, straightened out my spine to aid my aching neck. That couch — not what I would have chosen to sleep on. Thanks witch! My day starts out not well. “Buster… Damm?” I reply, trying to get my bearings.

“Yeah, um, Tussock — his home of course — right next door. We’re in Hooktip. In the woods. I have a house here as well, but I keep cracking all the mirrors there. Forest is better when I’m in these kind of states. I seem to have the worse luck lately. And *here*…” she points down toward the cards. “The *Sun* of all things, the *opposite* of what I desire.”

“The Who?” I say back.

The witch, who is of course a new advancement of Alysha, even further beyond child now, looks over. Precisely what I would have said in your position, she realizes. They are one. And she also understands the reading is for him, not her. “How’s your neck?” she asks after turning over the next card. Maybe there’s hope for this day after all.

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