Suddenly he was underwater again, although still staring at The Sphere. This was the center of his submerged Alamo Sea town!
Like Jack before him, he found himself staring at himself…
… as he went inside.
Further…
And…
… gone.
“What just happened here??” cried the observer of the observer from his control room far above it all. Time to send in another.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0408, Blaine County, GTA, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, Nevada
Philip Strevor finds something inexplicable in the waters of the sea. How could I have missed this before? he thinks in his diving suit while gawking around at what appeared to be a sunken town of alien design.
He sensed it even projected a bit above the water’s surface. *Everyone* should know about this.
Philip wakes up.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0405, Blaine County, GTA, Jeogeot, Nautilus, Nawt Vaya+, Rim Isles
With exactly 50% of the 1:04:58 length video named “Comfy Driving Around the Alamo Sea” behind us and exactly 50% to go, we find this statement by the maker at 32:29, saying he estimates there’s a 50/50 chance his car is still where he parked it up the hill several minutes back while he investigated a lighthouse down at the coast. And not derezzed like many vehicles when you leave them even for a short time in the GTA V game.
Btw, the car was still there. But there’s an equal chance it wouldn’t be according to him. Reality split. Fork in the road, as they say…
… where later in this same video, the maker, through his chosen avatar of Trevor, parks this same intact auto, a red Chevy El Camino as I’ve checked, to witness a crime being committed resulting in several shot people, perpetrators and cops alike. This is where he decided to peel off from the Alamo Sea loop and not complete what the title alluded would happen. *Around* the sea, it said. Okay, disappointment, but the guy was a freewheeler as he freely admitted a number of times in this and the other GTA V video he’s created that I found online. Anyway, *we* indeed intend to complete this loop, if on foot if not by car — which might be better anyway; can look at more details of the sea itself — through another video which hopefully stays truer to its very similar title. This one. We want to get an in-depth look at this Alamo Sea, dive into the subject matter as it were. I’ve honed into it as a place of special significance to this blog and attached photo-novels, 45 being the present number we’re on. What secrets does it hold underneath its gently waved water? and so forth. Circumnavigation first, though. *Hopefully*.
I’ll report back to you about my find or finds, if any.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0404, Blaine County, GTA, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+
“I figured we need to talk.”
“Mmmmm,” says Fern in return. “I know that was you talking since I was drinking my beer (!). So… what up? *Wendy*.”
“I’m still Wendy to you, huh.”
“Ever since Castletown, yeah. And, let’s see, you said you had information about the missing Lichen for me, I’m going to say. Part of our troupe after all.” She takes another swig. Blue Sky; pretty good. Hint of grapefruit, hint of raspberry, lots of hops.
“As you can see, my hair is blue. I’m not really Wendy here,” counters, um, I suppose this is Shelley, then. Shelley Johnston Struthers. Or Johnson.
“I see your hair.” Fern looks over. “I see your outfit. Crazy Blue both.” You’ve been taken over, she thinks. “What are your plans for this continent, this Nautilus, dearest? You’re here at the Scorpion Lake or whatever the locals call it — haven’t asked. Not yet anyway. Depends on if we’re staying. Are we? Staying?”
Shelley envisions walking around this inland sea of Nautilus, so full of arms they had to name it after an insect. Apparently. I knew it was suppose to be the Alamo Sea up in Grand Theft Auto V we were walking around but she became a distraction. Crazy Blue indeed. Will she keep the hair? Just found it by accident on the marketplace.
Fern: “We have to bridge the gap between you (points to Shelley in her yellow chair), and me (points to herself in the green chair). I think ‘Frank’s Moving Mountain’ was invoked. You can manifest that *here*, you know.”
Shelley was pondering what to say next when Fern got up.
Soon she found herself on a different parcel, walking away from the scene at the beach and its 4 chairs in a row. But not before one of those local giant crabs corrected her on the name Scorpion Lake, overhearing their conversation with his inner but still sensitive enough ears. “It’s *Starfish*. Starfish Sea,” he said proudly, having lived on its shores and in its water all his live long life.
“Oh, okay,” said Fern, logging it into her computer of a brain while continuing to head up to green beyond lower yellow.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0403, Blaine County, GTA, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File
“Eat Jack Sheepe power you loser!”
—–
“When I started mowing down pedestrians with my souped up riding lawn mower made from discarded plane parts, I knew I had to change or else face the consequences, like felony charges. That’s when I decided to become a leader rather than a follower. Else the pent up anger would keep resurfacing. I had to find my true potential.”
“Good, Jack. Good to get this out. We’re making so much progress today.”
“Well thanks, Clyde. Nice to see my big bucks I’m forking out to you are finally paying off, ha ha.”
“Riight. So let’s go back to the beginning (again). The vineyard. When did you return?”
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0509, Blaine County, GTA
“My first real gig as an owner of a business actually came through the vineyard. I bought out the O’Neill Brother’s crop dusting business when 2/3rds of them died in that unfortunate fire which destroyed their family home, including the only 2 of the 3 who could actually fly a plane. Like me. Only later did I learn the true culprit behind the tragedy.”
“So… you knew how to fly a plane?”
“Yeah. Learned it from my 2 uncles growing up in Wrightsville Beach, North Carolina.”
“Interesting.”
“Isn’t it? Anyway, Martha — the owner of the vineyard at the time — said to come by every week to douse the vines with a special herbal pesticide she concocted herself, just like those O’Neill brothers did before me, and be sure to leave by 3, or else take a break at 2:45 and don’t resume until 3:15. Else — and the first time she mentioned this she made a throat slitting gesture with her hand and mouth, which of course I took as death. 3 o’clock — death; keep that in mind. But at the time I just took all of this as part of the peculiarities of the old woman and didn’t believe the stuff she was telling me. After all, she had a special recipe for pesticides, you see — a weird-o. But I still didn’t fly at 3. No use taking any chances, I figured. She later revealed that 3 o’clock at night would be bad for me too but didn’t mention it at first because she knew I’d only fly the plane during the day.”
“Why did you call yourself Jack Sheepe in those days?” he asked, thinking of the hanger and its sign. “Instead of Jack Shepherde, like you are now — like the LOST guy? But, let me guess: because you view yourself as a *leader* now, and not a follower. You changed the name to show this.”
“Correct. Do you even need me here? Sounds like you could have done this interview by yourself (!).”
“No, I need you here,” he says with no humor. “Now. Let’s talk about the move to the big city, how that came about.”
“First there was a detour. Through Christianity.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0508, Blaine County, GTA, Oregon
He was wealthy beyond anything he could have dreamed of now but he couldn’t help but keep thinking of his humble origins in that vineyard over in the hills north of Lost Sanos, before he became, as it were, LOST in the hustle and bustle of the city’s mean streets. Capitalism, greed took over. Lust for power. Money. A simple video editor of GTA V he was back then. First camera. Couldn’t even figure out how to add his own speech in for the longest time. But then the talking started, and it never ended. Deal after deal after deal, making his way to the top of the pyramid, stepping on the heads of his competitors along the way. Smushing down everything beneath him that needed to be dealt with in his path like accrued sedimentary layers of mud and preserved skeletons. He didn’t feel like he was standing on the shoulders of giants to get to this point. He *was* the giant, towering above the land of man, tall as Atlas. A man and also a whole world. In his head. He could see the circumference, could navigate the surface like a modern day Magellan to all ports of call here there and there to collect favors, debts, even bribes if necessary to keep the collective going forward. But more and more lately he yearned for that old, delicious glass of Pinot noir, his favorite, while staring into the tiled fountain from his favorite seat on the patio, and wondering how to actually produce sound from his lips. Ah, the good old days.
If only he could find his fountain pens he could write down the halcyon beginnings, but big bucks blocked the way once more in the form of an attache case full of dough here, lid raised so he could gaze in on his most recently acquired booty. And he also wondered why he converted his laptop into such.
“Gertrude!” he called on the intercom to his underling secretary, one of the beaten down, one of the ones trying to escape the pressure of the city and return to country origins in her own northern arcadia of the early 21st Century, Morro Bay I believe it is called, a place Jack also knew about; where they met, actually. “Bring me a computer in here pronto and, let’s see, let’s make it a 62 inch monitor this time.” Big screen needed for a big view of the world, he rationalized. His world. F- the pens, f- the fountain, *f-* the vineyard. His thoughts had returned to the normal ones.
—-
“Do you want me to remove the attache case to make more room for you?” she asked after bringing it in and setting it up, gazing down on his now even more crowded desk and also wondering why he converted his laptop into such.
“No I’m not finished staring at it,” he said brusquely, barely acknowledging her presence all the time. Return to normal as I said. She left without more words.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0507, Blaine County, GTA
Q: Tell us a little about yourself. And how you got involved in the Mysteries.
A: Well, my name is Tom Morrow Jack Shepherde, and, yes, that’s like the LOST guy. Except with an extra e on the end, the 9th to complete the 3 and the 6.
Q: Cool.
A: Yeah, that’s part of the Mysteries too as it turns out.
Q: Nice.
A: So, you know, I came up here to the vineyard because I like the nice view from the hills. Figured I could, er, practice my video techniques in this cool setting.
Q: Nifty.
A: And then people, you know, my online GTA buddies, told me about the vine and that I should check it out. So I did. Just over there (he points). You can just insert that picture I took here if you wish.
Q: I will.
A: And, um, as you can see from this next photo — please insert again — I also found out that the vine glows at night, which my friends *didn’t* tell me about.
Then I found the ring nearby which was *also* glowing; just down there on a, um, culvert at the bottom of the vineyard (he points again).
Q: Tell us more about the ring.
A: Well, er, I connected it — eventually — to a marriage, like as in a marriage that took place at the vineyard. That was the symbolism that Rock* put in here. Or at least that’s what everyone — my friends again, my online chooms — were telling me. Then I started to have my doubts. I started thinking that the marriage in the vineyard was *my* marriage, as if I was the one getting married here. But not to someone else as in a human — not really. Instead: to the vineyard itself, the wine and so forth. And, ahem, Viney.
Q: Viney?
A: Ah, you know. (he lowers his voice as if this is just a secret between me and him) The vine.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0506, Blaine County, GTA
I was almost halfway through my tour of the vineyard when I spotted it crazily dangling above an attached plant.
Then less than a minute later the plane crashed, BOOOM!
I rushed to the scene…
… only to find an empty cockpit bent up like an old tin can. But where was the pilot? I scanned the grounds from my position for signs of a parachute. None spotted.
Then I went back to the main house and found this tile thingy and knew one was somehow related to the other. Channeling, I realized later. Because I wasn’t the only one who’d made the association. More on that soon.
Despite the oddities, I decided to finished exploring the vineyard to complete my video. “How about that plane crash, huh?” I asked a passing worker in an upper field.
“Happens all the time,” he responded in a Hispanic accent without stopping, surprising me. Initially. Then I followed this up with, “And the vine!” as he was walking away, halting him in his tracks.
He reversed course, venom in his eyes. “What — do you know — about *Viney*?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0044, 0207, Blaine County, GTA
He came here…
… in a boat. He was looking for someone. A woman both 3 and 1. Is this truly the right location? But the lightning strike knows, he remembers.
Into the setting sun he continues. Like a caboose on a train going round a dark mountain it is, soon to disappear out of man’s sight only to emerge the next day. Roundabout. 8 sided even, like the I Ching. The endless revolution of black vs. white. Lists. Into Liszt. We continue…
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0501, Blaine County, C2077, GTA, Kabusie
