Category Archives: 05

August 29, 2020 · 9:52 am

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“Ahem, I am looking for the purple girl,” Sandy Beech announced to the 2nd floor of the Great Marwood Tower in general, a duplicate of our Parisian Eiffel in scale if not in size. An older lady in a flowery black dress at the bakery counter turned to him and cleared her throat as well. “*Ahem*, young man.”

“Yes?” Sandy inquired. “You know something? I’m talking about the Blue Berry Girl,” he clarified. Of course he didn’t add that The Twins were looking for her. No one needs to know that here… none of these bots who, despite being unreal, still have eyes to see and ears to hear. They know things. He’s learned that down through the months existing in this place. And Marwood is thick with them. That’s their raison d’etre, apparently.

“I know something. But it, uhum, will cost (*cough*).” She took another deep drag of her Winston cigarette, her last. But she had a Marlboro pack ready in the top of her left white stocking, stretching it beyond needed elasticity. Oh well, she’d could always sell the damaged goods down at the Cub Run thrift shop in Apple’s Orchard (Apple’s Orchard?) for another carton or two; they weren’t particular about what they take in. Or maybe some sweets of some kind. Maybe rum cake — killing two birds with one stone as it were. Satisfying two vices at once. “Young man,” she prompted, ready to get the sale on. “Are you still there young man?”

“Of course I’m here,” Sandy shot back bitterly. Stupid bots, he thinks inwardly. Always questioning whether you’re real or not or here or not. I suppose it’s a defense mechanism built into their kind.

“I –“. But she broke down here and forgot what she was doing. The next carton beckoned. She pulled up the dress from her stockinged legs and retrieved. Sandy turned away, having seen enough old in his days of taking care of Ma-ma and Aunty Jenn. Sandy gave up in that direction. He decided she was just leading him on.

“Like what you see?” The older woman then spoke toward bakery attendant Betty John Hammock and confidently declared, “he likes what he sees,” making her nod. Stupid bots.

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August 28, 2020 · 9:02 am

Zero

And to think this was almost her home. She stands up after getting rid of slimly taller blue and slightly shorter red at once. This was not a vein and artery situation topped by topping gold and/or yellow. Plant is in the temple. *The* Plant. He touches Carrcassonnee and both (olive) green (entities) come to life. Fantastic! But what of her? Blue Berry Girl, or Blue Berry Wannabe Girl? Baker Bloch said he would stop by later after he made a decision. But the Baker Bloch that showed up was not himself but another. Another core. You could tell by the somewhat iridescent hat, I’ve heard. And so it is.

He emerged from the house instead. “Hi doll.” Oh boy.

—–

“Of course it was Axis in the house,” Baker Bloch said to fellow core avatar Hucka Doobie later. “He’s married to Wheeler after all — that still applies.” Hucka Doobie let him speak further. “His name is Blackey after all. Black like a swastika.” Careful, Hucka Doobie thinks but doesn’t say aloud. He was entering Constance Blueberry territory again with his consideration of dark against light. She looks into Baker Bloch’s eyes. Baker realizes he’s stumbling and bumbling once more. After all, Hucka herself was a strong black woman and not a Bee any longer. Or a man. She’d tied a bow on all that existence and stored it away for later study. Perhaps at Xmas.

(to be continued)

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August 28, 2020 · 8:03 am

Sunklands Institute

“Aren’t you a little light to be a Blue Berry Girl?” Sandy quickly tried to backpedal the comment. “I mean, the *blue* and all.” He looked away from her crossed arms and her stare. He didn’t want to seem racist, but had stumbled into a big pile of awkwardness. Constance, sensing this, tried to lighten the mood.

“I knew what you meant.”

“I know you did, I know you did.” He was back to his confident self after the bumble. Should he ask her out on a date? Too soon? He thought again of his quest for the alchemical endpoint of All Blue, turned to All Orange for the purposes of this here blog. Started as a child when he saw the perfectly round, orange-like navel in a box. We covered that in photo-novel 10. And better make that a navel orange back in that sentence before last. In a fruit box.

“If you don’t want me, you can leave me.”

He leaned forward, switching gears. “Try the other one, Wheeler. If you don’t mind. She’s going to show up sooner than later. Best to test it out now.”

“I’ll do better than that,” Wheeler currently playing the role of Constance Blueberry said back to Baker Bloch currently playing the role of character-actor Sandy Beech.

So just for the record, here we have two core avatars interacting with each other so no need for that collaging effect I spoke about earlier. This is Baker Bloch, this is Wheeler. Not 2 characters of Baker Bloch or 2 characters of Wheeler, etc. On with the show…

(to be continued)

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August 27, 2020 · 8:03 am

bow

She hesitated in front of the golden phone. She just couldn’t go through with it. She picks up the receiver, dials the number, all of ’em, including the last one, the 1 that will put her in 0. Rings. Sandy answers.

“You’ve changed your mind,” he guessed correctly.

“Yeah, ahem. It’s a lot of money.”

“But…?”

“But… my friends need me over at the other set.” She glances their way again. King Winnifried Orange smiles back. Clown Renaldo O’Donnell, back turned to Wendy at the moment, smiles at him. There was a warm feeling all around. She’d never had better working mates. All were in costume, all were consummate professionals. She couldn’t leave “Burger Wars.” This was not even to mention (director) Chip Wassleboro! They were having an affair behind his 2 wive’s backs.

“Wendy,” stated character-actor Sandy Beech, straightforward if nervous. Uncharacteristic. The Twins were staring at him with murder in their eyes. “You *signed* — a *contract*; *they*” — and he turns again to dare to lock eyes with them for a second — “are not *amused* by this. I’m looking straight at them, Wendy. You don’t want to *cross* them. Do you know what I mean, do you understand what I’m saying? Put – on – the dress. The other one.”

“I can’t do it, Sandy,” Wendy reiterates, knowing this must remain a Wendy City and not progress beyond. Her left white stocking was drooping annoyingly down her thigh. $19.19 she paid for them. And they hadn’t even lasted beyond the month. What was the name of that store? Oh right. Cub Run. The place she accidentally met Sandy again that day the 1st hurricane was forecast. Then taking the cursed money and donning the bloodied dress at the elevation of the second beyond tropical storm. Because this was not just a Wendy City but also a Second City. Second Lyfe City. *The* City. She knew it all ended here, the 1 into the 0. She might as well be Wend-… Wend-… oh, she couldn’t do it; what was she thinking. Of course she’ll take the money. King Orange looked over again  — another smile. She smiled back but weaker this time, breaking down. The Twins were just too strong a force to reckon with.

—–

“Thank *Gods*,” Sandy exclaimed while slamming down the receiver and getting the results he wanted.

(to be continued?)

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August 26, 2020 · 8:43 am

fire in the road fire in the road!

“Why are you telling *me* all this, Baker Bloch, he he?”

“Well, because…”

“I’m a Bee? I’m no longer a Bee in any way, shape, form. I don’t even have the antennae any more. Here,” and Hucka Doobie tilts the top of her head toward Baker and pats it. “Nothing.”

“You’re from Mammoth Cave, right?”

“No. Never said that.”

“I think you did.”

Hucka Doobie shakes her antennae-less head and crosses her arms over her red plaid vest.

“Where, then?”

She uncrosses her arms. She crosses her arms. She stares.

“Aahhh. So it was *you* that tied the bow on that building… shed. Whatever.”

“Maybe.” It was a more definitive answer than Mammoth Cave. I decided to press.

“How old are you, Hucka Doobie? 108?”

Shaking again this time. I figured former host Charles Nelson Blinkerton would have been about that age. Had he lived. Boy, hadn’t thought about *him* in a long time. And Hucka Doobie use to *be* him. A him. Took a while, I suppose, for all the hormones to work their way out, alongside (and parallel with) the bee stuff it seems. I decided to press even further. I asked about a man-bee fusion.

But Hucka Doobie was gone. She didn’t fly away, but just took flight. She’d made her point I suppose. Center Point.

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August 26, 2020 · 7:41 am

X

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cub_Run,_Kentucky

Cub Run is an unincorporated community in Hart County, Kentucky, United States. It was also known as The Crossroads….

The [Chicago] indie rock band Eleventh Dream Day recorded their 1991 album “Lived to Tell” in a tobacco barn on the Niland’s farm in Cub Run.[3]

http://www.comedyminusone.com/releases/new-moodio/

In the fall of 1991 Eleventh Dream Day was at the crossroads.

Not the Robert Johnson meet-the-devil crossroads (although they may have been willing to negotiate if they could have found those crossroads), but a juncture where break-it seemed more inevitable than make-it in the dichotomy.

Who is at The Crossroads? And is that a… guitar??

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

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August 25, 2020 · 8:04 am

new again!

After publishing for real, I add categories (essentially: locations) and tags (essentially: characters) as needed. I’ll just do it again in this new post (“new again!”) to illustrate. Then if the reader desires, they can check back and look at the history of a particular location, a particular character. Here’s what we have for Andy Warhole, for example:

https://bakerbloch.com/tag/andy-warhole/

From this you can see that the last post he was in before “new!”, published a couple of weeks ago and called “customers”, also contained the same characters: Hilter, Marilyn, add in Gabby Truth this time. So let’s just, for fun, check Gabby’s past posts:

https://bakerbloch.com/tag/gabby-truth/

Ahh, you see? He also has a history with these particular characters, stretching back to photo-novel 14 and his time in Toppsity on the Maebaleia/Satori continent while living there with his brother Amos, who was, let’s see, about a month and a 1/2 back, declared dead due to repeated self ignitions, 7 to be specific as I’m checking.

https://bakerbloch.com/tag/amos-truth/

A sad tale. Gabby still lives in Cassandra City

https://bakerbloch.com/category/virtual/maebaleia-satori/cassandra-city/

to the south of Toppsity

https://bakerbloch.com/category/virtual/maebaleia-satori/toppsity/

and last time I checked (“customers” again) was working in my Moe’s tavern there as a soothsayer, using tarot cards, 8 ball, and roshambo together to create the most effective vortex of timely prognostications. He told Hilter recently that he was already chancellor of Germany even though it was only 1919, another time and space and collage confusion. He dispensed timely if watered down wisdom to Andy Warhole about his art career and the impending doom he sees. Casey One Hole, one a-hole of a guy. We should get back to him.

https://bakerbloch.com/tag/casey-the-alien-casey-one-hole/

And what of Gabby and Amos’ seldom seen brother Keith B., hmm?

https://bakerbloch.com/tag/keith-b/

So much to keep up with these days.

(to be continued)

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August 25, 2020 · 7:03 am

new!

The buffet was already laid out on the serving table at The Cones, my latest local eating and drinking establishment but this time for core avatars only, where they can let down their hair and be themselves and mingle amongst their other selves without the need for masks and separate identities. Take silhouetted Andy Warhole here on the upper deck, waiting for his date Marilyn to show up. But actually they were one core avatar and each knew the other knew this. In the moment. So while he waited, he was actually waiting for the single user of both, the single core used by this user, to simply change his costume to Marilyn’s, switch chairs, and then combine snapshots of each into one composite photo to make it seem the two were on a date. This happens over and over in the outside world, with little recognition by the avatars themselves. But here, at Sunklands Institute in the great Iris waterlands — swamp some derisively call it, like Roger Pine Ridge back in the days — separation could be relaxed and examined more from a distance, a perspective. Photo-novel 13, in fact, is all about getting back to core — that could be a subtitle.

The sun had just set when Warhole switched chairs and the collaging process mentioned above took place.

“Marilyn, so glad to see me, ahem, you again.”

“It’s purrr-fect here,” she cooed while staring out at the spot where the sun had just set, seeing no aftereffects commonly known as twilight, or the refraction and scattering of the sun’s rays caused by the atmosphere. Strange — this wouldn’t happen in the real world. Real Life. She decided to ask about this.

After Andy Warhole uttered the almost obligatory 5 or 6 repeats of her name, all in the same monotone, he responded properly. “No this isn’t real for certain, this — *world*.” But not being very philosophical he had no more to say about this. The DJ for the night showed up, and he mumbled, “About time.” It was Hilter, Chancellor of all of Germany by this point in time but not the all encompassing evil dude we know and despise by a slightly different name. So: 1939. Twenty years after the publication of the infamous Red Book.

Actually I have to bring in another core avatar to play Hilter, since Baker Bloch doesn’t have that costume or what’s more commonly called, in Our Second Lyfe terms, an “outfit”. So Bracket Jupiter is logged on since he does — two core avatars here are logged on simultaneously, which is common and even necessary in my work. He takes his position while I make another collage of Marilyn and Andy in the background. I add facelights to both to help highlight their position. Hilter waits calmly for it to be over before starting his first tune. And what would that tune be, you might ask? 1939… lemme check. INSERT PHOTO HERE

I believe it was Pink Floyd’s “On the Run” combined with Judy Garland’s “Over the Rainbow,” but difficult to say definitively because of the confusing effects of yet another collage.

(to be continued)

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August 24, 2020 · 5:26 pm

he who holds the honeymustard has no say

“They lived by a great swamp. Today it would be called a wetland. But it was a textbook swamp. Crystal clear water, sandy bottom. Salamanders everywhere.”

I was waiting for someone wearing a trench coat but instead got Biff Carter, with only a vest. It was a nice vest, though, very retroactive and film noir-ish in a Ray Chandler type of way. I knew the man sometimes inhabiting Biff was a fan, just as *I* was a fan of the man sometimes inhabiting the man. I need to keep READing (his stuff). Honeypot — Pooh pulling. Red Umbrella: Pooh is holding in a corner as far away from centre as possible. The purple and yellow honey pot in a blue cart; noisily bouncing along the grainy, rough-hewed sidewalk of a town also in the Middle of it all. Middletown, US of A, with the Green (City) on one farside and the Gray(s) on another. Farside — another relation to the man inside the man. Fox Island. Swamp — Swamp Fox. It was all coming together. Or completely falling apart — I knew it was one or the other but didn’t know which yet. Biff Carter slid into the booth again, starting over. This was take 21. Director Bob Waffleburg was a perfectionist like his hero Stanley K. but not Stanley Kowalski. He’s different.

“I was — expecting someone else.”

“I know you were, I know you were,” he said. Biff Carter tended to repeat everything twice. At least on this take. He was tired of takes. He was ready to go home to his lovely wife Rowanda and play with his kids Sven and Duplexitous of 7 and 5 years old respectively. Duplexitous especially had skills in reading and math, although Sven was a wiz on the tracks and fields. They all mattered to him greatly. But filming paid for their swanky educations and star studded outfits and costumes. He needed to keep acting. Or at least accin, to use a Jim Jarmusch term. He makes a mental note to return to the Centerville concept and explore it more. But to the acting (or accin).

“I was told something about a trench coat. Did you forget?” Sandy Beech was *acting* offscript now. Bob told him to improvise when the moment felt right. Bob Waffleburg trusted his lead actor in this way. The 35 year old former used car salesman *using* Biff Carter for his arms and legs and torso and head and other bits right now was a bit more of an unknown. *He* was holding them back this time, not Alice Frame playing Wendy O’Donnell or something. Wait, it was Wendy something but not O’Donnell. Not yet — they hadn’t shot those scenes. That was her acting partner in that other film we’re trying to lure her away from. The one with all the Popeyes gathering together to gawk at the splashy, stormy sea. “Burger Wars” was a working name, and involved Alice Frame’s Wendy caught in a love triangle between King Winnifried Orange and Clown Renaldo O’Donnell. Then the hurricanes hit, and, yes, I said hurri*canes*, because there were two at once. (“Burger Wars” director) Chip Wassleboro tended to repeat as well when he got tired. And he wrote that part of the script about 2:01 in the morning before last Wednesday’s Monday’s Tuesday. So it was Thursday.

Then Sugar O’Cotton showed up, 10 minutes late. “Mind if I slide in?” she squeaked to now booth mate Pervimus Rex while doing just that. Pervimus couldn’t reply anyway since he wasn’t real.

“You know these spots on my blouse might look like blood stains but they’re really ketchup.” Still no answer.

(to be continued?)

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August 24, 2020 · 9:45 am

upstairs

“50 thousand lindens. *50* *1000*…”

“I heard you,” Wendy spat back. “W-why would I want to give up my chance for stardom in this Popeye film and put all my marbles *here*? I’ve *been* here. I worked with Bob Waffleburg before — *we* did.”

“Just put on the dress and we’ll see,” encouraged Sandy Wannabe, still not fully character-actor Sandy Beech but getting there.

Wendy was thinking she *has* on a dress — but she complies. It was a lot of money.

—–

*There*.

“Hmm. Needs more blood,” he opines, fully transformed now with the sight. Inwardly he was thinking: this looked good! They were about ready to get down to some serious business.

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