To truly understand Mtn. Man we have to put ourselves in the middle of all the circles (All Circles, aka All Ears), in his place. The Orange Man descends to blue…
I believe he entered his original mountain, the start of it all… here.
And so shall we.
—–
“You didn’t even explain that the newest explored mountain, this Red Hill or Pink Peak or whatever — inside the 4th and largest circle — could be his *final* home.”
“I’ll get to that.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0508, Blue Mountain, City Park, Country Park, County Park, Google Street View, Red Hill
heading inside for more boos (part 2 I suppose)
—–
“We ended up at the exact same spot we began,” spoke Hucka D., suddenly finding herself back on the bed beside Barry. “Exactly the moment we decided to leave!”
Barry checked his pants but he was okay. This was no dream. Not really. Not any more than anything else they’ve experienced since this here photo-novel began, 37 in a series.
Then he forgot everything, the whole trip to Lordsburg/Shakespeare. It is as if the text at the bottom of the state never existed; no subtitles. Nor the top for that matter (Brilliant again). Only middle now. Barry DeBoy was on his own again, Hucka D. choosing not to take part in this reality. His mother as well. There was no reason for him to stay.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0301, Bogota, collages 2d, Google Street View, New Mexico, Willow Hill
When he shot out of the 1st to 2nd life portal known as Burro Alley, Santa Fe, New Mexico at 9:34 Mountain Time on Sunday, March 5th, 2023, he had a good idea this would be his last trip to reality reality. He’d prepared for this moment, said goodbye, in effect, to the virtual wife and kids — if it came to that. Because he didn’t intend to go back to playing second fiddle in a second life devoid of 3 of the 5 major senses, subtract psychic, which was in fact stronger over there. He cherished feeling the bumps in the brick pavement of the alley, loved the smell of fresh bread coming from the Burro Alley Cafe beside the stick laden burro statue at the entrance, reveled in the taste of their fish tacos for breakfast, dinner and sometimes lunch, if fish burritos, which he didn’t like as much, weren’t substituted on the menu.
—–
“The plot deepens.”
“Or thickens,” Hucka D. responds, taking another gander at the photo Barry’d produced from a facebook page on the ghost town. Can-can girls in Shakespeare, the past come to life. Both knew this was an important clue. They’d just produced the word “cancan” in a collage created by folding up the back of a 1923 German dance recital poster found in Hal’s saloon near the center of the resurrected village. Or altered village is perhaps a better way to put it, since both dead and alive versions are just as real as the other. Featured Isadora (or Isadore) Duncan and her daughter Irma, joined at the hip now through the collage fresh as a wet drink produced for a condemned bully whose throat was bone dry from defending himself and saying other locals had perpetrated much more heinous crimes. Didn’t work: hanged in the Grant Hotel Dining Room alongside a cattle rustler. Could have been Barry and Hucka’s fate as well except it wasn’t.
“And the Hills buried on a hill (above the town formerly known as Grant in a county formerly part of Grant). Don’t forget that — fits in with Grant Hill, who drinks sprite, both lemon and lime together to produce something not quite as good as either separately.”
“Another one to wet the whistle.”
“Yess.”
—–
The dog burrows deeper.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0211, Google Street View, Nautilus, New Mexico, NORTH, Slaashsides
They’d prepared 2 nooses for “folding f-cks” Barry and Hucka down at the dining hall of the Grant Hotel, named after the president and not visa versa. But that’s when the choppers arrived from the north, disrupting everything as stated. Johnny Cage was hiding amongst them, blending in as best he could, speed included. Around Silver City, Nikki (that’s it: Nikki; not Penny, not Wanda) slowed down enough to ride alongside him for a while, enough to strike up a friendship, enough to open doors for the potential of more. By Lordsburg, Johnny had made up quite a number of scenarios in his head, all involving Nikki and marriage, some with babies, some not. In some they just ride and ride off into the proverbial sunset, the wind in their hair and the moon at their backs. Others they use the top 5 gears of their 15 speed mountain bikes (which Nikki had bought in the meantime, ditching her motorized version) to climb the highest peaks of each of the 50 states, Florida and its puny 345 foot high Britton Hill included. “Well start with that,” he said in one version. “Just to get you acclimatized to mountain air, ha ha.” And then he laughed a bit in reality at his imagined joke. Nikki motoring to his side noticed. “What’s so funny, Johnny?” she asked, but before he could answer they were upon the sign. Shakespeare thata way, ghost town no more. The Void saw to that. He could feel it deep in his bones now, starting at his modified neck and working down. If he could just figure out a way to steal it outta here he’d be a rich rich man, set for life in whatever form it decides to take in his future. Babies? Sunsets? Mountains? One way to find out. They followed the choppers that managed to beat them down the now dusty road, beside the water tank with the town name emblazoned on its front.
As they passed, the LORD on it sank below the horizon with the rest, history come back to life.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0210, Google Street View, New Mexico
The Void had come to Mountainair in January 2008, drove right through the middle of the town *basically* unnoticed. Probably on a bike. Probably unmotorized so as to cut down on the attention. Barry found this out on his computer back at the hotel, only 2 blocks away from the passage. The Void was making a statement, he knew. Best to get out of town before “accidents” happen again. The Duck was presently gone but for how long?
“The bottom of the state,” he urged to Hucka Doobie that night. “That’s probably what it means.”
And indeed Shakespeare is to be found there. Hucka D. knew the area well.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0116, Google Street View, New Mexico
Slowly but surely, a past formed in the present, tiny Tintown revealed again. The tiny mountain in the background — a hill, really — being the link.
Suddenly he was there, staring at The Void.
Not as big as he thought it’d be. Not really big enough to crawl into, even. His mind settled on the club. Shakespear’s, he found out.
“Hucka D.,” he said when awakening. “You were right.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0112, Google Street View, New Mexico, Pennsylvania
So here it is, thought Barry DeBoy, out of the hotel and its Duck and back on the plains, thankfully. To find the actual Void.
“On your right!” shouts passing biker Johnny Cage. But there was only left. Collision. KaBAMM!
Mission accomplished well enough, as he checked. Johnny will be able to afford pheasant tonight. Barry: back to Duck.
—–
“It hurts soo bad, Hucka Doobie.”
“There, there,” she consoled, reaching over and patting his remaining good arm. “The doctor said it will take days, even months.”
“Must… get… back, ahh.” He collapses in pain. Hucka D. knew The Void could wait. But she had to stay with him now fer sure. She looks over. That darn quacker! I’ve got to do something about it once and for all.
There was always… Maw.
—–
She picked up the receiver of the green phone, dialed all the numbers except 4.
“Hallo?”
Turns out she was just downstairs, what are the odds?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0111, Google Street View, Maebaleia/Satori, New Mexico, Pipersville/Sink X
I’m not sure what the new story will be but I’m pretty certain it will involve The Void, the place before birth, after death. The satchel contains secrets in its pages.
Nearby Baker Bloch stares into the water. Tough to tell if he is asleep or not. In a way he has to be — we all do. To even exist on this plain of reality. He dons the red cap of an artist again.
43 bucks should cover it for this wannabe cowboy of the plains.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0103, Bogota, collages 2d, Google Street View, Jeogeot, Middleton, Midlands, New Mexico, Willow Hill
Clifton “Carbon Glow” Mahoney taking a well deserved rest at Gloomy Gus after a busy day working on the train and railroad. He’d figured it out. The last *key* was removing the cave front and replacing it with this suspiciously rectangular piece of rock positioned at the top of the town’s cascade, a leftover mistake of residents at the time…
rock before the move
.. because this was obviously the old front of the tunnel that the train passed through beneath the 7th and final spire of Castle Soos, also known as Soos Mountain Castle, or Somoca, not to be confused with the Soos Mountain Community, instead abbreviated Somoco. Anyway, once he figured this out and did the switcheroo, the train slotted perfectly into the hole, spinning keytop on the locomotive fitting comfortably beneath the top now, which the shorter cave didn’t allow. Check it out.
Another thing he had to do to make it all work was to shrink the miniature train found in storage behind the castle (more sloppiness!) from Tiny back to Teensie, an even smaller, original, pre-Robolution version, the one that allowed for proper portal hopping, he felt. He wouldn’t go to Oklahoma next time, even though that was just a dream. Or if he did, he’d know it wasn’t in error this go around. Something about dunes last night. Check here:
https://www.onlyinyourstate.com/oklahoma/sinister-beaver-dunes-park-ok/
That’s not the first time we’ve brought up Beaver formerly Beaver City Oklahoma in this here blog and attached photo-novels. More soon (stay tuned!).
The view entering the downtown area from the west was… dramatic. Mr. Back, sorry, *Dr.* Back directed us to a smok’n bar and grill he claimed he owned, where we could finally get our dogs and rejuvenate. We’d been saved from leftover gravy and jam and whatnot by a mystery shooter.
It’s actually here we encounter Ashley. And Clyde, Big Loop complete. Because Clyde correspondingly brought Steelton back to Goldsboro, saving us a trip. We meet in the middle, which is nowhere. He’d just killed our Uncle Roy, who was ankle deep from the top down in the steel stealing crinimal matrix. He was even eating Roy’s leftovers he stole from his fridge just before we showed up, on a break between dough rolling. “Roller,” he said about his profession. “Rock’n it,” he added, which I assumed meant he was good at his job. He then beat the roller mercilessly against the dough a couple of times, smoothing out some rough spots I supposed. But, gazing into those steely eyes, I could see him doing the same with the inevitable bumps on someone’s head, the ones they use for soothsaying in phrenology. Clyde didn’t believe in any psychic bullshit. He was down to earth, meat and potatoes, what you see is what you get. He could have been a good mechanic if he wasn’t a better killer.
“I have a question,” W. said from the side, playing my wife Wanda Wannabe in the current scenario. Mother of 11 year old Tommy and 6 1/2 year old Junior, the “wee one” they called him because he always seemed to need to. “Junior, we *just* left the bathrooms at the service station,” was a common utterance during trips in the Wannabe car, being repaired with 2 wheels removed to bring it back down to the normal 4. Back saw to that — felt guilty for shooting them in the first place. Or have Bobby Carter the mill boy do it. Cousin of Clyde, I believe. All in the Family. Speaking of which…
“Wait… me now. What’s the connection between Goldsboro PA and Mortons Gap KY?”
“Well… Back,” I answered with some confidence. “And Place.”
“Place of eating or place of worship?”
It was here I realized the name of the bar and grill we were sitting at was M and J. But it was also described as a place of grace: “M & J’s Place of Grace.” Do they worship food? Anyway, this was 2 places at once we were in. I knew Firesign Theatre was involved again, because we also weren’t anywhere atall, neither here nor there.
Gunslinger Bobby Carter walked into the establishment. We all knew who this was now. He went up to Clyde and kissed him full on the lips, a new and different twist to the old kissing cousins trope.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0036, 0303, Corsica, Google Street View, Kentucky, Northwest, Pennsylvania
Sunklands 