Category Archives: 0610

00420610 (fire and nut (2 crackers))

He began doing some independent research on the subject, starting with Orgamast which led him here. “My you’re a tall one,” he said to his companion also staring out at the Korean Channel sim. “Why I barely come up to your Tropic of Cancer, hmm. Are you that tall so you can see the sim of Orgamast to our west better? Do you know of Big Schwa/Big E? Are you big because of *it*?” He halted this fantasy line of inquiry, knew he was, of course, talking to a dummy, a manikin all the time. Not real; not even an NPC really.

But boy was he happy about his view. Reminded him of his ex, the only woman who could have it multiple times that he knew about or was involved with. Eve was her name I believe. Unless it was Wilma — no, not Wilma. Jenny? Argent? Tina? Argent Tina, yes, silver like the moon and just as slippery. Barely remembered her name.

“Argent?” Okama Majo pronounced clearly below him to make sure he heard correctly. “Tina?”

“That’s right,” spoke the dummy who actually couldn’t do so.

“Hmm.” With his more limited range, Okama stared at the round, green hills before him and then beyond toward the sea, the channel itself. He decided to get a better view from that watchtower just outside the window, leave the stiff behind.

There. That’s better. But What The?

An invisible typewriter?

He finds the correct fingering through the highlighting red after inserting an imaginary piece of paper and begins to type a story about Argent Tina and how they did it, extending his draw distance between paragraphs so he could look at the intermittently erupting Ichelus Volcano visible to the northwest. Inspiration!

But he wasn’t the only one doing so, it appears. Argent Tina herself, perhaps? Is that why the dummy is smiling? “She’s right *there*, in the fire, like the firecracker she is,” he might say to a tippy-toed Okama if the researching psychedelic artist hadn’t left his side so quickly. “Just ask. You don’t have to make up *anything*, he he.”

Ah yes. He remembers how they did it. Ray Davies style. If only the current Mrs. Dummy would see eye to eye with him on this as well. Oh well. There’s always memories.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0042, 0610, Jeogeot, Xilted

00410610

Stuck in the mud, Arthur has finished his journey around the map of Our Red Dead Redemption 02, which took 5 1/2 hours time for him but much longer for me the author of this here blog, working my way through the chronicling Youtube video piece by piece, bit by bit over a 3 week period.  Side note: Arthur = Author?

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9pTT6867XJ4

Very curiously, here he looks directly at the site of another journey’s end. Right over there beside the smaller of two dead trees sticking up out of the water, with Arthur’s head smack between them in the above screen capture. Again this is precisely at the end of our 5 1/2 hour video.

We can zoom in on the location through another Youtube video created by Mr. Boss, an expert on the subject of All Things RDR2.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0isUThnBpjo

It’s a smaller wrecked boat with a partial human skeleton inside and, beside it, what’s identified by the game as a Broken Pirate Sword which you can take and then use to slash and cut your way through various close-up troubles you might subsequently encounter in-world if you wish.

Building up my own mythology, I have some theories about this. I believe the bones and sword here belonged to Jim Randolph the Bastard Pirate talked about several posts back. In this scenario, he survived the initial crash of his Humpty Dumpty ship on the Red Dead planet, then used this smaller boat to make his way up to these fairly nearby islands, not quite reaching the town of St. Dennis and potential safety (seen across the water in the first photo above) but almost. So close. Instead he seems to have succumbed to wounds already inflicted in the ship crash or else those coming afterwards, perhaps via an attack from one of the many local alligators laying about. There might also have been brain trauma involved, since he left behind his tricorn hat and also Aged Pirate Rum back in the ship. *No* pirate in his right mind would do this. Unless… hmm, maybe he didn’t *want* to be seen as a pirate. Maybe he was intending to enter St. Dennis in *disguise*. Many possibilities arise from this.

A map to end. Islets of Langerhans anyone?

And of course ribs as in rib cage are involved again.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0041, 0610, RDR2

00400610

“I try to meet our new, ahem, students at least once but I hope in our case we encounter each other again and again, Ms…”

“Krakow,” spoke Marsha to Dr. Paul Mouse, head of the organization and secretly working for Head, often known as Perch.

“Yes, Marsha Krakow, hmm. And with an additional name if I remember correctly. One only friends can say.”

“Correct, Dr. Paul… what was it?”

“Mouse,” said Paul Mouse.

“No. A middle name.” She smiled wryly.

“Oh yes — clever. I’ll give you mine and you’ll divulge yours. Well, mine is [delete name].”

“Never heard of that. Well mine is Pink, spelled like the color and not the cologne.”

“Not p-n-k, then. I remember from when my wife got me some a couple of Christmas’ ago. Still sitting on the shelf above the medicine cabinet, unused.”

“But other people swear by it. Man of your,” not age, she thought — *distinction*, “*distinction,*” she said aloud, “– might be handy is all I’m saying.”

“So you believe in its love potion powers. You are a true P-nkie.”

“Look at me,” Marsha spoke about her appearance. “I use to sell it. I had a hot pink car before I traded it for a yellow. Got tired of seeing putrid yellow-green as an aftereffect all over the road on sunnier days.” So for the first time we understand the color.

“Interesting. But do you *really* believe–”

“That is for me to know and you to find out.” Could she wield her considerable powers over *him*? This is what her mother feared, why she was put into that totally colorless black and white cow costume and forced to forget. Venus power. All this, she realized, all this organization must be about her.

He realized he was staring at her uncomfortably. He pretended to organize his files about her before him, shuffled Pink on top again from the bottom. This was no time to bring up the 3-n-1 and the presence of Shelley Johnston Struthers (I was right!) and Frankie Brown Beige (or Beige Brown!) within as well. Pink on the surface; Pink she is. If only Marsha to him still, not counting as a friend. Yet.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0040, 0610, Omega^^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^

without shorts he points

“(The whole sim) is probably called River because of the chocolate one in the Wonky Willa part.”

“Willy Wonka,” Shelley dutifully corrected. She understood Wonka. She just didn’t know about the chocolate factory and River until the return home from the beech “staycation” of her user Chet and his mate Phyllis (happy dogs!), the former who we’ve yet to see in this here photo-novel. Shelley thus only knows him by name. But I have an avatar in waiting…

“And then the Once Upon a Time part is 1000 meters below this river, the rooms I and my *best* mate Tammy live in,” Marsha continues. She goes over and hugs Tammy sitting on the next cube over, so glad she was that both are now alive, potential murderer, *former* murderer Tom Banks far below, cord cut as I said. No reaching them up here. First it was Brown and then Pink in that order, but no more. Story Room history has been altered. She sits back down between her 2 best mates, 1st to the right and 2nd to the left, tears in her eyes, tears of joy. Safe at New Home. She knows their proper order now. But there was more on this upper level yet to be dealt with. They needed an escape like they needed a hole in the wall. So he made one.

Tammy spotted it first, producing yet another gasp.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0039, 0610, River

00380610

They switched horns with each other, Ben with Jerry, becoming Benny and Jer again. Jer gets up after the transformation, says he has to check on his bars, even the Zero, even the Nine. Beyond the visible compendium. Larry would not be happy. Or Lawrence.

—–

The scene is set. The return of Thomasina Boyy.

—–

“You’re nervous aren’t you?” the old woman beside me on the waiting bench spoke. “Why don’t you feed the pigeons to take your mind off your worries. Steven will be back soon.”

I checked but no animation in the bench that would allow such. And laying on her lap, another one of the few options, seemed inappropriate, although I *was* sleepy. The end must be near. Yes, down there, unseen to me in the moment. Because she was me.

I thought of the visible compendium again, the 1 through 8. Jer, left horn in place again, becomes the owner of bars, Kedas and others. He wanted me to don the Crazy Blue and perform the cancan, old fashion style. How dare he (!). I’d slap him if he were here beside me instead of this old woman. I wanted to get a name. So I decided to bring up the lack of that animation she spoke about.

“You call me Grammy,” I finally got out of her. I recall her from the Newt pharmacy, striking provocative pose after provocative pose for the apothecary in an attempt to get SODA. Most likely why she’s here, and it turns out one in particular did the trick. Call it her cancan moment.

—–

His break over, Steven returned to playing the guitar across from us, entertainment and also a needed distraction. The policeman guarding the gate to the inner sanctum, Tank I believe, mysteriously clapped in slow motion to the beat, about 1 per every 4 to 5 measures, I reckoned. It’d been 1/2 an hour already, maybe, yes, 45 minutes (as I checked my watch). Ten till 2 now. At least the meeting didn’t take place in the cursed fairy blue light of middle late morning. Else I might be doomed, designated for Hell and Devil alike. Hellville. Joining the Hills, or at least Grant. But Mike is trying to save them by roping my parents into the story, of all people. “Lemon!” he said earlier, stuffing that one in Mama Wheeler’s mouth. “Lime!” he then said, doing the same with Daddy Newt (named for the sim and not visa versa). “Speak!!!” he then shrilled after telling his own tale, but the fruits were still in their mouths. He removed them, causing the cascade of words we talked about before which still didn’t satisfy him. Guess what he uttered next.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0038, 0610, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File, Rim Isles

Tyrone

No azure door here, Hucka, but a reflection of a door across the road, garage in that case. Interesting patterning.

And almost across the road from that: an anomaly. Doesn’t clear up using any angle of view.

Then looking the opposite direction: ladder boy, we’ll call him, someone who seems to have unusually short legs for his stature, the opposite of what a basketball player might possess. Illusion, as it turns out from other directions, but perhaps still meaningful given all else. His head overlaps the ladder’s bottom rung. Dressed in Azure. Are we suppose to climb further in order to find the true door? (no answer) Or are we suppose to look sideways from what we are doing? (no answer) Maybe some combo of Heaven and Hell we’re looking for, hmm.

Then in going to a handy realty site called redfin.com, we find the actual Azure Door for the house… and in digging deeper we find the residence is owned by a Door. Actually Dorr but close enough.

A personal business of some kind this was suppose to be, but no more info than that in my searchings.

Through the same site we can check out the place via drone video, taking it in from every angle like a 3d cubist painting. The blurred house in Google Streetview across the way turns out to be quite ordinary looking. Wonder why that occurred? We can guess: substitution.

As we keep flying around, we spot the Horns coming around the corner of Woo and Crab Wood and Chuck in their Real Life silver(-blue) truck rented in Silver City. Once again they’ve been expected.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0037, 0610, Google Street View, Illinois, New Mexico

Tiny no more

Making his way through the profusion of lettuce, tomatoes, and peppers in the community garden, avatar Clifton “Carbon Glow” Mahoney, fully transferred over from Baker Bloch and accepting of that new role, enters the cave system from the hole directly below the 7th and last spire of Castle Soos. Probably goes to Kentucky, Real Life, he’s thinking. Pretty sure. Hence the name: Mammoth, changed over at the tail end of the 2nd Robolution, the Panhandle Year some call it.

He switches on the light.

“Adventures in Tintown Part 4b of Tin”

“Oklahoma?!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0036, 0610, Jeogeot, Kentucky, Middleton^, Missouri, Oklahoma, Towerboro

A way out (Back to Nautilus)

“I know this man!” says Martell Mandell out loud. She couldn’t help it. “Fieldon!” she tacked on, thinking about 300, thinking about a lot of other stuff. Like time and space shifts. She begins to prepare for telling her alien boss, Abbey Abdominator, about the discovery. “We *must* investigate,” he says back to her in a daydream. Hopefully her imagination turns out to be correct.

—–

“There! Told you!”

“Just because it’s a New Jersey substation of Nautilus and just because he likes to wear grey doesn’t mean he’s the same guy, Martell,” says Abs back to her upon seeing the “proving,” remotely taken photo in his mind. “I’m Grey. If I were standing in front of, say, a New Jersey welcome sign would you also think I was Harry, hmm? Besides, he denied he was Harry — said he was instead Jerry. I read the report you sent me. I’m not that detached from my position here at Star Team Interplanetary.”

—–

“If only Collagesity were still around,” she lamented while they looked at another photo she’d found in the Archive, hope waning.

“If only we could follow this probable route still up Highway 13 and down Highway 14 around and around…”

“Wizard,” says Abs to this. “Cube.” Her world turned inside out. And the Grey was the Man on top. Superior. *Not* a humbug.

“Look around, Martell. Where do you think you are? They are appearing all over the place. We have a way to go back *now*.”

“The… Void?” she answered, hallucinating the past. Shirley?

Still sharing her pictures, Abbey sensed a discrepancy between red-violet and yellow-green. These were not the same cubes. “No. Not The Void, Martell. I’ve changed my mind. We’ll go back to Nautilus… Jersey. But in that special way like we did before. And heading in backwards just for kicks.” Maybe that will solve the discrepancy I sense, he says to himself.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0035, 0610, Illinois, New Jersey, Omega^^, Southern

Nowhere Too

A mysterious pit, a waterfall, a cave behind another waterfall. Just routine type finds from another clear hiking day for ol’ Baker B (see captions).


Mysterious 20′ deep and 20′ diameter circular pit I ran across in nowheresville (about 4400′ elevation on an uninhabited mtn.). A lot of work for no clear function! Tough to take a good picture of — have to see it in person to appreciate.


Fairly big waterfall, perhaps 50′ high, and the first clearly legit one I’ve found in this state park. Stream’s name is Mine.


Smaller waterfall, but with quite bizarre little cave directly behind it. Not sure how far it goes back; gives the appearance of a “portal”. Interesting rocks leading up to the falls and cave, almost acting like an aisle to it.


Stream that goes nowhere in nowheresville.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0034, 0610, Blue Mountain

00330610

The bees attacked from below. A mud dauber threatened from above. The toys agreed to stay perfectly still until I returned to keep down damage, but what could have been an event so special and wondrous turned out to be quite disastrous. Aloha (village name) seems to mean goodbye as quickly as it does hello. Looks like we’ll have to regroup and move again, pheh. Unless… no, can’t do that. Must respect the woods and the denizens already there. Like spoon snake. Like *hisser*. But the day was not without its casualties. Eye for an eye? NO… can’t go down that road. Just no.

Lisa Smipson the Vegetarian front and center…

… certainly a bright spot of the day.

Casualties.

Casualties too.

What could have been. A town centre. Silver Surfer reclaiming the glory of a Blue Mountain thought to be over and done with.

Joker is wrongly imprisoned for the deeds. Bees! he cried behind the bars. Wasps! And it turns out he was right.

Aloha: the whole shebang.

Rock that was thought to be sheltering, pheh. PHEH.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0033, 0610, Blue Mountain, City Park