Category Archives: **VIRTUAL OT

February 8, 2025 · 9:10 am

00450613

Inside the fence now, wire cutters successfully employed to fulfill the dream duty needed. Let’s find out what’s in that building.

Definitely the Data Hall, good — the right place. Now to go deeper; more inside.

Internal passageway revealed by pulling this lever? Why not? Must see this through to the end since I’ve gotten this far. Alarm clock not set to go off until 9. 8:45 now. I have a bit of time left. But what’s time in a world like this that time’s forgotten? Not much.

Ahhh! A human! Sliding out from within those banks of computers; almost woke me up 7 minutes too early with his appearance but not quite. He speaks (!):

“Jack Shepherde’s not mad at me is he?” he begins cryptically enough. “I was just looking at the computers to see where all my favorite people went to. It’s been a long time since I read computer works, though, so I can’t figure out how to get their location out of the machine. I think it’s time for me to go home. Thank you for opening the door.”

And with that he glides past me in his slidey way with no steps required and down the passageway I came in through and out the front door as I followed him as best I could. I then went back to the room with the computers but the door was closed again, and immediately when I pulled down the lever like I did before, the alarm went off, RIIIIIING. I awoke in something of a sweat, knowing I didn’t have the information I needed. 9:01. Better get dressed for breakfast. Linda coming over at 9:30. Should take a shower too but it’ll be close. And at any rate, hair will be wet when she arrives because of no time to dry. Wet’s not good. Shower can wait. Slap on some deodorant, brush my teeth, drag a comb across my head and I’m good.

(to be continued)

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February 7, 2025 · 7:32 am

00450612

So we come to the point in our story where we have to ask: Are any of these various lines of seemingly disparate plots and sub-plots connected to some kind of central power source? Or do they all just dead end before reaching any said source? Well, I think Our Second Lyfe or My Second Lyfe still provides the juice to all this in a strong way. It may not be where I’m heading but it’s where I’m from, the photo-novels as a whole originate. So let’s put that in the middle, like a house a toddler or child might crawl or walk out of one day to find a brave new world outside full of fresh mystery and intrigue. After that, he’s kind of finished with the house or at least he thinks he is. Out There becomes the most important, like stepping through a door and leaving an old way of life behind. Crawling to walking to running… and then back to walking and then, finally, crawling (to the grave). So what is *outside*? And what are the levels of outside? When we reach a circle around this center where real cannot be distinguished from virtual, do we stop and take in the view?

Or do we just continue down the summit to the other side? Both I think. Let’s move forward. With wire cutters.

(to be continued)

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February 6, 2025 · 3:43 pm

00450611

An F near the highway outta here. Must stand for Fern. That’s me! And this is my game made for walking and traveling. Since a bus is more likely to be used than any other form of transport, I call it Fernbus. Or Ferncoach; haven’t finalized. Much like the game.

Another F in the same field. Maybe: Finished? As in, finished with this game. Just over there beyond that highway sign actually leading to nowhere, motoring cars falling like lemmings into the void sea just beyond.

A third F. France. *France*?? I playfully exclaim to myself in utter shock. But this was suppose to be the corner to The Netherlands from this here direction of Germany, golly gee whiz. Where’s Vaalserberg that I created this whole game to find Philip Strevor at and maybe Mikie and Frank Lynn along with him? Where’s one of the higher rises in the entire Dutch kingdom and the highest in The Netherlands itself where everything will reach a logical climax?

Oh well, I’ll just have to take a 500 KM trip north on another one of my many game buses to Aachen to recalibrate, maybe take in the Albrecht Durer exhibit celebrating the 500 year anniversary of his visit while I’m there. Wonder if he created the print “Melancholia” when staying in the low lands? No, I think (again, playfully with myself, because I actually knew the dates of everything, the trip, the print, the painting), that would have been pre-1521 and thus before the 1 year trip to Holland. Yes, that’s where he finished “St. Jerome in his Study” instead, one of his most famous paintings as “Melancholia” is to print.

—–

Windmills old and new entering the view. Getting close! Vaalserberg here we come.

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February 5, 2025 · 9:13 am

00450609

If I could get up on that high hill the alien bee just disappeared into, I might gain a better perspective on the whole game situation I’m stuck in. Maybe the bee thing is an indicator — ‘nother one.

It starts raining as I approach the summit, pheh. Now my feet are wet, my clothes are getting soaked. Not fun.

But I ultimately make it and peer over the top. The Data Hall: so far away!

Ahh, better. And now my feet aren’t wet, the clothes are dry. Less resolution has its place. But I clearly see the chain link fence now and know I’ll have to return another night in another dream, wire cutters in hand. Till then!

(to be continued)

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February 4, 2025 · 9:09 am

00450608

“Lester, can you hear me, Lester? I’m seeing 6’s and 9’s, just like back in grade school. Where am I, Lester?”

“Oh God, Lester! I’m falling!! Falling into a pit, AHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!” Splatt.

“Oh. That wasn’t so bad.” And Philip wakes up fully on his cushioning bed and remembers that he and Lexi have an important meeting with Princess Pinky Gumm at 10:15 over in Juho. Better not be late.

(to be continued)

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February 3, 2025 · 9:16 am

00450607 (to Vaalserberg!)

“So this is what it looks like inside one of these Sphere’s, huh,” Lester says with awe in his voice, amazed he could get a plane in this far. “Well boys,” he continues after admiring the glinty surroundings a bit more, “I guess we better get down to the business that brought us here.”

“No no no, Walter,” he says, watching one of his two hired goons move toward the fake loot. “Remember what we talked about, fog for brains. Just ignore those shiny, weighty, but, in the end, worthless bricks of AU. That’s just fool’s gold. Might as well be ordinary rocks compared to what we’re *really* after.”

“And — du-huh — what’s that again, boss?” asked even more ignorant Jason from behind, dressed up like a bug exterminator with Walter for a reason. A multi-armed reason. All had extra arms for one thing, as in fire. But that was all part of the ruse, the subterfuge, the diversion.

“Just leave that to me,” Lester answered cryptically (again), finding the right way forward. “Through here, yes. This must be the passageway to the climax we seek,” he said almost religiously. “Prepare yourself for fire.”

Lester punches the correct #s into the keypad that opens the sliding door. Arms drawn, they head inside — further inside.

In a parallel dimension, Philip The Other walks with them, Gus still perched on his shoulder and suddenly burning brighter than ever, ow ow ow! (pop pop pop!) But shouldn’t be long now. Just that final rise over there.

(to be continued)

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January 30, 2025 · 7:23 am

00450603

Persimmon. A seed that grew into a tree. A tree whittled down to make a club. Woods (Tiger).

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wood_(golf)

Woods are so called because, traditionally, they had a club head that was made from hardwood, generally persimmon,[1] but modern clubs have heads made from metal, for example titanium, or composite materials, such as carbon fiber

Persimmon can also be whittled down to >sim< (Juho). Or in this case, visa versa.

In another, completely different game, a Woodman working for Tyger (Claws (gang)) with an actual last name of Forrest.

https://cyberpunk.fandom.com/wiki/Oswald_Forrest

Just some random, scattered association, but maybe soon to be more.

https://golfweek.usatoday.com/story/sports/golf/2014/08/20/tiger-woods-golf-equipment-nike-golf-irons/76971654007/

Woods: I’m part of the older generation that grew up playing with balata balls, and part of the last generation that played persimmon.

(to be continued?)

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January 24, 2025 · 7:41 pm

00450516

“Quick, driver. To Vaalserberg. And hurry!”

—–

It was just a glimpse of green through the trees, but for the first time in his long journey across The Netherlands he found he had a legitimate rise in front of him.

The about 15 minutes later he climbed a rock face to get a much better view. Marvelous!

Yes, he was wise to jump off that bridge into the canal back there to avoid going home, he thinks while surveying the countryside before him, Lester and Mikie’s hard efforts be damned. And soon afterwards, he’d found that little fire in the road that couldn’t logically be there, also a first in his journey, and potentially much more important. He felt like a modern day Prometheus bringing humanity a gift from the beyond, proof of its existence and his own sojourn there.

Passing another kind of impossibility in this world, he imagines it riding on his shoulder to his final destination, the place of triple and perhaps even quadruple contact. And so it came to be.

NEXT PREVIOUS HOME

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January 23, 2025 · 10:59 pm

00450515 (grand theft auto)

Is that a red white and blue flag of The Netherlands up there? Philip thinks while passing, not use to such decorations in his journey.

At the same “time,” Fern, after having created her own, more limited Earth simulator along with her own bus for travelling through such, leaves Arnhem in the eastern part of The Netherlands, destined for Amsterdam more towards its west-center, a 98 KM trip. At Amsterdam she plans to take a specially rigged up gold car to the Ells Bridge and beyond, hoping to catch up with Philip before he reaches Vaalserberg at the SE end of the country. It will be a close race, she knows. That’s why she created her own simulator at a 1:10 scale compared to Earth instead of the 1:1 scale to same for Microsoft Flight Simulator. She’ll need the time saved, she figured.

—–

*Not* copper, she knew.

*Not* silver just up the road, which she also passes by.

But, dang, where’s the gold one that’s also suppose to be here? Has it already been *use*? She gasps. It’s already been used! she understands and starts recalibrating her goals and outcomes accordingly in her vast brain.

(to be continued)

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January 23, 2025 · 4:23 pm

00450514

“I’ve been struggling to complete this piece for a long while. Could it be you’re the assistant Jack Shepherde promised? I was beginning to think he’d forgotten. Let’s test your artistic eye. Where should my last portion of lime green paint go?”

—–

“I ordered my feets to stop moving but it probably was just an illusion caused by the higher ups, the powers that be. I was still in control by them, not of them. Not yet. And probably never will given what happened when I laid down on that green green patch of grass that so attracted me. I had to lay there, commanded to again, I suppose. I intended just to rest my eyes and body for a second…

“… which turned out to be another hour, the same period of time I spent on that Dry Rock back in, where was it — not Windytown but the town before that. A couple of towns ago. Anyway, I’ve told you the result. Was my period at hard Dry Rock negated by this square of soft, cushiony green, I have to ask?

“Then, after another hour — the place I would be, say, if I didn’t take that long nap, hmmm — I found the plane that I *didn’t* crash. I began to think I wasn’t alone in this netherworld after all. Lime green as I still was, I began to fear The Other.”

“Thank you very much for this information, Philip,” I said, seeing sweat bead on his forehead again. Time to stop for today. Maybe tomorrow we’ll continue. Day 3? I’m not sure if there is such a thing but we’ll see.

(to be continued)

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