Category Archives: 06
orange to orangeade
She’d finished washing her hands and had rejoined Edward and Arthur in the living room. “I don’t know what we’re going to do with her, boys,” they heard her say from the kitchen, knowing Dukie was still involved. Unseen. Sitting at the small table Shelley and Arthur or perhaps Shelley and Edward would dine at later. Or earlier. She had to choose, they knew: real or fiction? They, Al and John the Mind Reader sitting around that table for now, talked about the past, the *waste* of it all. Glad to be outta that hellish hole at least for a while. Hot as rot there. They came out to talk about TILE. In a slice of time so orange that everyone had forgotten it existed. All Orange, then.
“Well,” said resigned John to his boss across from him. “It’s right there in the introduction of the manifesto, the first paragraph as it were, although I don’t tell that to the Tilist conservatives of course. ‘Let’s make this shit happen’,” he quoted.
Al uncrossed his arms and started tapping the table nervously, pondering options. 561 paragraphs, 561 words in the *first* paragraph, the one not making up the introduction. *He* was conservative too; in a way, in a manner. He didn’t really like discussing his right leaning tendencies to liberal John, though. And he blocked it from his mind as well, knowing John could dig it out if not. All Orange did the trick. Neither here nor there. A pause between destinies.
“What do you think about the ‘perhaps sentence’?” he decided to say, staring directly into the visor glasses covering his blind eyes, trying to read any emotions he could resulting in the spoken words. Rephrased (and implied): What did liberal John think about Bart and Lisa’s addendums to the manifesto? He’d save discussion about the even more controversial, more obscure Zero Hero until later. Best to deal with the 1 through 8 currently, the visible compendium.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0605, Nautilus, Wild West
lazy boys
Things have happened in the sim of Hypolazy lately. Directly south of Constance and my Constantynople. Closest hit in (my map) Oracle, *only* hit really in any category, pop place or not, is Hypoluxo Florida, an incorporated town a little south of West Palm Beach. On a whim googled Hypoluxo + synchronicity and this came up at the top of the search results list: Reddit post mentioning Randonaut, a term I hadn’t heard of before and originating in the popular app called Randonautica. First the Reddit post (note the description of the find = Void)…
… then the wiki I quickly dug up about Randonautica:
https://randonauts.fandom.com/wiki/Randonauts_Wiki
RANDONAUTICA is the world’s first & only quantumly generated Create Your Own Adventure app. Randonauting is a way to turn the world around you into an adventure. Randonautica was created to send a Randonaut outside of their day-to-day routine by using a quantum random number generator to derive a coordinate to journey to.
Owl as their primary symbol, related to this odd synchronicity concerning an original contributor named Jamal who was running the Randonaut chatbot server in its early days…
https://randonauts.fandom.com/wiki/Owl_Synchronicity
Turning to the Oracle again, we have a hamlet called Owls Head NY with an alternate name of Ringville, which quickly and obviously — to me anyway — resonates with the owl ring of Twin Peaks, featured in a number of photo-novel related blog posts up to this point. Like here:
https://bakerbloch.com/2017/09/10/59694/
Twin Peaks derived owl ring as worn by character Nancy in photo-novel 05
AnyHOOT, back to Hypoluxo FL and the generated coordinates from the Reddit post. When visiting the mentioned lake through Google Earth Streetview, found this graffiti on a cinder block wall bordering it to the north. Crooked letters — KRMNL — mixed with straight — HYCTY. Blurring of letters N, Y and T here is caused by camera. Unsure if HYCTY refers to HYpoluxo the CiTY, but KRMNL obviously relates to criminal. A *crooked* criminal of otherwise *straight* Hypoluxo was responsible for this illegal act?
Besides being in Hypoluxo, the town that is, the marshy lake in question is also just south of Hypoluxo Road which starts at the east end of Hypoluxo and proceeds basically straight across Palm Beach County for almost 10 miles before ending near where the vast, central Florida swampland begins.
Curiously in googling Hypoluxo + graffiti, a defiled Dunkin’ Donuts also just off Hypolaxo Rd. came up at the top this time, which is also exactly west of the graffiti from the marsh-lake pictured above. The spray painted message here: “Dukie,” a cruder product in both name and execution, also found on a neighboring storage facility. Wanted by the police, the scoundrel. Crooked not straight indeed.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0604, Constantynople, Florida, Google Street View, Nautilus, Rank & File, Wild West
Galapagos?
“A ship out there, dearest. Two of ’em!”
“Have you been eating carrots for lunch again, love?” Sam Port stared into the horizon, couldn’t see anything. The phone rings in Tisha’s pocket. Pulling it out and seeing the caller, she didn’t want to answer but knew she had to.
“Hello? Baker?”
——-
“Just stay under the umbrella. He says there’s too many characters in this here photo-novel already and wait for the next one to expose ourselves.”
“Fair enough.” Astronaut Sam Port had patience. He’d waited 2 years for these ships to come rescue him from this always room temperature, never rainy island on the equator of Our Second Lyfe. Paradise, but also mix in some hell because of the imprisonment thing. Tisha was a fine reward for his efforts but he was ready to go home. Junior would be, I guess, 15 1/2 by now. Exactly. Tisha elbows his ribs, reminding him that he needs to stop thinking and that we need to end the post. But he couldn’t. Tisha had to pull the plug herself. Took her a while to find it (too obvious).
So in the meantime, he was able to recalled arriving here in his own ship, fast sinking in the waves due to that underwater meteorite hit he took back at the cape. First solo flight by man, some say wrongly. Fellow named Glen was first, but it wasn’t advertised as widely as his own. Suspicious in retrospect. He was made out to be a star. Maybe it was his rugged good looks in contrast to Glen’s smooth, unattractive surface. Almost featureless, some said. Like the Orb’s 3rd album.
“Still looking, dear,” Tisha called beyond camera range now. “Just try to switch *off*.” No luck. Unlike Myrtle, he didn’t have that type of button on his belly. Or anywhere else for that matter.
I could have died there, he kept ruminating. I *should* have died there. Would save me a lot of grief and pain later. Two ships, he thought, still straining to see them from his flowery umbrella spot. Two more of my kind, ready to join me, he knew. Because he then realized they were goners as well once they stepped foot on this place. The realm of Lemon, not Lime. Not any longer. Philip Linden had no control here.
He wanted to warn. He wanted to wave them off, send up a blue flare for danger ahead or something. But he still couldn’t see. Maybe Tisha was wrong. Maybe she didn’t have carrots for lunch. Could be just some sort of reflection off the tails of the ever-passing killer whale sharks.
“Found it dear!” she now gurglingly shouted underwater somewhere. “Phone all the time!” If he could see her in front of him she would be blushing. And then (*press*) they were gone, ships and all. If they were ever there in the first place.
(*not* to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0603, Maebaleia/Satori
Kidd Tower 01
He was washing the car with roommate Devil Dave in Wendy when he got the call.
“You get it.”
“No, I’ll get it.” Typical, playful pals. Karoz answers the phone ringing in the front seat. He forgot to roll up the side window and it was ringing wet but so apparently not damaged. Wife Baker Blinker was on the other end. He’d forgotten he was married. “Come… *home*,” she said with defiant voice. He knew he was in trouble. “Chilbo?” he asked for some reason. It had been their home for I suppose 5 years. Why would it change now?
“No. We have a new home.” He knew somehow! Maybe it was just the oddity of the call. Baker Blinker hadn’t phoned him in, what was it, *2* years? He’d forgotten he tied the knot. He told Devil Dave all this after receiving the rest of the information and hanging up.
“Summer,” DD replied, still playful wiping the front of the La voiture de Grand-père they’d been bumming around in for 3 months. “You moved here at the beginning of summer. You last talked to Baker Blinker in spring, May I suppose. Not 2 years.”
“Oh.” He recalled now. But bad timing with the car wash. He’d have to drive it through the ocean and get it all salty to reach where Baker Blinker indicated was their new home. Place called Constantynople —island-state up in Nautilus, she said. Strange pronunciation, he thought. He also realized the irony that they were going to be residents of the place, “Constan*ti*nople” being the best known hit of the bizarro group known as The Residents. First track off “Duck Stab/Buster and Glen”, also their greatest album. He knew it well through the audiovisual synch “Waits 4 No One”. Wheeler (Wheeler!) use to play it quite a lot on the TV. Back in the days. Got him in a lot of trouble that one afternoon. Had the sound up too loud — may have even been “Constantinople” playing; more irony if so. Baker Blinker approached unheard, opened the door of the bungalow, witnessed what was inside. Nothing *too* bad, but Karoz had his legs propped up on Wheeler’s lap. She knew. He wasn’t allowed to enter the wrestling ring again for maybe about 3 months after that, maybe more.
“School’s closed anyway, library shut down,” said Devil Dave in resignation, car wash given up. He hated to lose his friend, his won over ally, but the future calls. Literally. Karoz Blogger wasn’t a bachelor. His days at Crabwoo U. were long gone. This had to be all a dream. Wake up, he said to himself. Wake up! And he did.
Karoz remained in the dream, though. Sans Dave, he now prepared to waterproof the car for his journey. He wasn’t going to leave Wendy without it, planes and trains not being an option here.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0602, Constantynople, Kidd Tower, Nautilus, Rank & File, Wendy-Ontario-, Wild West
more walls
My Constantynople is essentially walled off on all sides from the land. People — residents — especially island residents probably, just want their privacy or maintain their autonomy and not really interact with neighbors. It’s a shame, though. But… it’s also something I can work with since I still have access to the big hunk of the involved parcels, including all immediate neighbors. Even building rights on most. A little strange. So I’ll definitely remain situated here for a while, especially given the resonance. New character Myrtle Beech, name taken directly from a parcel on the south side of the island (opposite the northern Constantynople), is also kind of a stand in for another avatar I’ve just learned about, and the person behind the avatar, which I’m still studying. A lot of material to go through (!). Old in Our Second Lyfe like me. Difficult to relay what I’ve been uncovering: consonance and dissonance both. Very deep — more soon on all that hopefully as I sort out the still incoming information. But that’s another reason I’m staying put for a while. Even the name Constantynople has something to do with her. It’s on the surface and then it runs deeper, all the way down to the Abyss (another island location — middle this time).
I will progress forward understanding the resonance and the connection between all island residences, if only unconsciously in the main. I will honor the dead memorialized here. I will respect those who want to remain private. We’ll track it all through the map in CROOKED — as I’m currently calling the odd Moard Ling gazebo sort of at the center of it all now. Yes, we have a map. We can build up from that.
One change from before. What I labelled “dance island” on this map in the last section actually has a name according to its parcel description, as I’ve subsequently found out: Tiki Beach. This is also where the reader first encounters the island. Here:
https://bakerbloch.com/2023/05/28/00380503/
We have circled back to the beginning. We did not understand the significance of the Bali belly dancer (statue) at the time. We are better aligned now. This seems to be Myrtle again, just returned to her south island home. All is in place for the next act.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0601, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File, Wild West
Nautilus/North/Rooster’s Peninsula
“Someone’s knocking at the door… Dorr.”
“Oh it’s probably just Shelley again. Ignore it this time. I don’t feel like walking down all those stairs again.”
“I hear ya.”
Dorr looks at her ordinary nails, at least compared to her companion Iss’ Edward Scissorhands like ones. She was thinking of her appearance from the last time. Crazy Blue outfit my ass. Drunk off her tits obviously.
“Maybe…” attempts Iss. “Maybe she really owns the place, like she said. Maybe… you should give it back to her. I’ve read the blog.”
“So have I,” shot Dorr back. She decides to end the suspense. She looks remotely at the visitor far far below, Azure a barrier between her and the inside.
But it wasn’t Shelley this time. Instead: Horns, Left and Right. What gives? she thinks. The Red Devil. Very unexpected!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0615, Nautilus, NORTH, Rooster's Peninsula
sides (sandwich?)
“My Mama doesn’t like the way I crucify the Lord in vain. Defend yourself, you and your Crazy Blue.”
She lowered her arms. She went to a place earmarked for such a discussion. Still on the BIONaz Gulch-Nightsity line (of sims) — in this case Dottieback. She checked the whole line last night, just hopping around on it randomly, spotting a potential structure and then beaming in. Worked in BIONaz Gulch’s Fantasyland (pictured above), in Othello’s Nightsity. Maybe it can work again. The “city” here has to develop a bit to make it useful, though, she thinks from her position of power, standing above the line instead of being absorbed. Crucified Christ indeed.
Changing back into her standard garb, she stared at the lines on her screen. Nautilus once more. Continental centerpiece. She smiled at the insights.
Yes this will work, she said, suddenly planning a party down at her new beach house, Edward included. She hasn’t given up on him. Omega. Arthur Kill will come to understand the difference between novel and reality. Takes two to know.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0613, Long Islands, Nautilus, NIGHTSITY, Upper Austra, Wild West
Sunklands 