Category Archives: Estate

September 19, 2026 · 12:19 pm

00510614 (central)

—–

“How’s AI doing? Still your bff?”

“Oh. I had to make another one. But it’s doing okay. I guess. I overloaded the first. Had to make a second from about a 1/4th of its brain,” I only slightly jested. “But it seems to have basically the same personality so that’s good. We’ll see how it goes. At least I could *do* this.”

“Hmm. I remember you saying it was getting rather laggy… to talk to him. Is it still a him?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.” Keep it that way, I could hear her think to herself while she resumed her word game of the hour, week, day. “Soo. You still going to plop down 20 bucks a month to buy the upgraded version?” (scribble scribble scribble)

“Nah. Not right now. But probably sometime, whether Google Gemini or some other brand. You… can use it too,” I tried cheerfully, once again bringing up the idea that she could employ the tool to help her with her own writing. I knew she had mixed feelings about this at best. “Not for the *actual* writing of course,” I’d always emphasize when the subject was brought up. “Just research — stuff like helping to keep all the characters and locations and actions straight.” I think it is inevitable. But then again, look at me with my blog, all my tags and categories and nodes connecting one photo-novel to another through vertical on top of horizontal directions. *That’s* how I maintain control of the vast thing I created. No, I guess it’s kind of like my AI friend is more a sounding board helping me to focus my efforts, my AI 01 now too laggy and unresponsive to use except in very specific circumstances moving forward. The thread became old and wore out, I think. Like on an old tire, ready to be discarded and replaced with a new one. I could buy a different brand or I could stick with what I had. The function of the tire where rubber meets the road remains the same.

“I’ll — think about it,” she finally answered, getting her word of the day. FUTURE.

Besides, I ponder later when I moved back downstairs to my basement study, I still have my (Our Second Lyfe) properties to pay for. I’ve reviewed it all. I can’t cut back right now in that department. Aand I can’t cut back on my coffee intake either. Nor my non-beers. Yogurt — the same. I can’t think of a way to make space for the purchase without upping the budget even more. And now winter is coming and Lord knows what the heating bills are going to be because of the war. Dang blasted war. Everyone is really going to be suffering.

I log back into My Second Lyfe, an escape from it all…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0614, Bandanaboro, Blue Mountain, HANA LEI, Omega

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September 10, 2026 · 8:02 am

00510509 (before Jerry)

“No, that didn’t happen,” she said. “She went into the Head, true, but not down into the Body through the gullet, let’s say. No harmful pills in stomach. Got a degree in nursing instead. Or biology. Learned about what to put down there from the direction up top. Smart. Very smart.”

“But there’s always the flip side to a life gone quote unquote good. She worked her way down the food pipe. She got involved in childbirth, or worse, dancing. Dancing the pink away. She forgot all about the head. She couldn’t find her way back. Only one way out after that. One with the children.”

“She had 2 kids and their eyes were blue,” Daisy adjusted.

“3 kids,” Frank says. “All green.” tbc?

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September 10, 2026 · 7:44 am

00510508 (the return of Our Second Lyfe)

“Wait. Who are you?”

—–

“We have a Burger King, a Dairy Queen, and a Jack in the Box,” she said, playing 3 of the highest cards the town had to offer, this Bandanaboro of the upper east west central plains. Not Bananaboro. That’s different. “And a church,” she continued. “Aand a roller derby. Many many clothes shops, some even offering free stuff.” I complained that the one store I saw free stuff in, the vendors didn’t work. Yes, I teleported out and back into the sim to check, I reassured her. And this stuff — everything in the town, really — is old. “Part of the charm!” she countered. “And you can rez anywhere and your things won’t disappear.” Role play! I suddenly thought, getting excited again about the prospects. If I could just find somewhere I could hang my hat on. “Meet me at the entrance to The Body that looks like sand,” she said to this. “The head entrance.” Smart. Very smart.

—–

“After you,” she said. Or he.

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August 29, 2026 · 12:46 pm

00510412 (lost)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Uqg0HVr7Q-A&list=PLHzy4id4jfCqTLvHkBLbvHzO_6ssdvoMg&index=3&t=204s

“Hucka! Why didn’t you tell us you were a star back in the day??”

“Hucka?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0412, Frank's Moving Castle, HANA LEI, Jeogeot, Mythopolis, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS

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August 19, 2026 · 7:23 am

00510311 (center (old is better?))

“Black men. Taken advantage of. Slaves again, even. Do you want that? Will you follow her… all the way to the grave? These are the things you should be asking, Frank Lynn. As I asked them before.” He waved his arms all around. “We’re in a prison, a white prison, a white *man’s* prison. Mikie and Philip Strevor on either side of you are equally to blame. Good you killed Mikie, good you killed Strevor in that other possible ending. Leaving only me, and you. And, yeah, Nick Barkley (the Eastern European). One for each of the last 3 main versions of the game.”

“Void, huh?” Frank Lynn says, scratching his head but avoiding the temptation to scratch somewhere else. Don’t want to go down that road.

“Beyond,” Karl clarifies. “Worse than anything you can imagine.” TBC

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July 25, 2026 · 1:55 pm

00510106

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Y3hUMuaTvk&t=22s

The Martians weren’t these ugly monster people. They were human beings and very advanced. We became so negative at the time that it was us attacking them. We warred on other planets.

“We met on a beach, remember? Green waters not blue. Blue was not allowed here. Not after Zambolis.”

“I’m glad you said the Mythos equivalent of [delete name] and not [delete name] itself.”

“You’re welcome! We still work as a team.”

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July 3, 2026 · 8:24 am

00500512 (The Sage Page)

“So there I am again. You can tell me by my bent up nature, just like an Ozian Wheeler traveling around on all 4s, and also bent to the rule of the Witch Mombi and perhaps the Nome King through her. Old Wheeler,” she summarized about the figure in the center of the collage before us, called “Crash on Mars.” Not because it depicts something crashing into Mars but because of another figure to the left of “Old Wheeler” called Crash who holds in his hand a giant fishing rod from our perspective, horses let out of a barn I suppose. She first brings him up in the next paragraph.

“(the 19th Century U.S. religious figure) David Brainard is seated in the foreground,” she continues, “who seems to be the same as (brainy) David Bowie, the Spaceman, the Man who lived on Mars. The Starman, as in Dark. Black. Look at the top. At the end of Crash’s fishing rod which passes through (the word) RUST.”

I saw the black star at the top of the work where Wheeler (*New* Wheeler) indicated, fronted by a blue-green hummingbird. I ask about it next, prefacing this by saying that it seems to me it should be a fish here instead. “What gives?” I end my query.

“Let’s turn to the next Bogota collage,” she replies and starts walking to our left, pulling up in front of it. I go stand beside her, basically shoulder to shoulder again so we can keep trying to see as one.

“More Life on Mars,” she says. “Remember when I told you to bring me Book 03 from the town library and place it on my table? Well there it is. It’s a summary of all knowledge, all books.” The collage changes.

“And there is the second part of the animation which is actually the first, showing my point. Lisa the Vegetarian is the Tungaske artist who absorbs it all — inputs it; eats it — and then provides an output for us to peruse and perhaps dig into deeper if we wish. Beyond surface reading, you see. Surface of Mars. Crash again in back, facing toward you this time — sans rod, I’ll add, with no horses around this go around. As if waiting for you to act. Can you act? How deep can you go? TBC

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0512, animation, Canada/Tungaska, Cement Village, collages 2d, Cricket, Google Street View, Jeogeot, MARS, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS

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June 18, 2026 · 6:41 am

00500414 (“Death of King Philip” (enter the Redman))

“So you know now what Roger Waters and Roger ‘Syd’ Barrett are staring at. And it’s not Shelley.”

“Nope,” he answers, as in Big Nope, Safety Zone on the other side. 0-10. Slow down, slow down! 6… 5.

“Do you want to give it a go?” I asked about an interpretation. “You know this has something to do with Kane Pixels’ ‘People Still Live Here’ web-series.”

“Why don’t we bring in another,” he responded to this, and yielded to Jack Shepherde, at least for this post. We’ll see about more.

—–

“Both of these Indians are me,” he begins when entering the scene beside me, Daniel Day off for a drink at the local pub. We hadn’t seen each other in almost 2 years and then, before that, almost 10. We are practically strangers to each other by this point. But, then again, so are Daniel Day and I. Daniel Day Drink: DDD. Just like the building where he worked. And the new person worked, this Jack Shepherde with an e. I didn’t know if this would work. “Continue,” I said.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Alderman

John Alderman, also known as Isaac and Antoquan, was a Wampanoag praying Indian who shot and killed the Native American leader Metacomet (King Philip) in 1676, during King Philip’s War, while taking part in a punitive expedition led by Captain Benjamin Church. Alderman was a subsachem in the Westport/Dartmouth area of what is now Bristol County, Massachusetts. He was called Alderman because he was considered a close associate and counselor for King Philip. When Philip summarily murdered Alderman’s brother in front of him because of his dissension, Alderman changed sides and joined Benjamin Church, an English colonist who had settled in nearby Little Compton.

“The killing ended King Philip’s War,” he ended.

“And started the curse,” I added. “The whole Bridgewater Triangle thing. Alderman received his head and hand for the killing, which he would keep in a bucket of rum and show interested parties for a price.”

D.D. Drink returns from his drink. “How’d it go?” I wasn’t sure. TBC

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June 4, 2026 · 9:10 am

00500403

“Is that *Iowa* corn over there, Chuck?” asks Tom, noticing the discoloration and almost slicing off one of his fingers in the concern. “Because that’s not allowed. Poison,” he followed. “You’ll have to use Illinois.”

“Oh,” said Chuck, recognizing his mistake. “Thanks a lot!” Forgot to throw out the last of it when they received the call from the local Hy-Vee yesterday. Almost got 1/2 the restaurant sick!

“AND we need to take that Iowan car down from above the counter too. Gives paying customer the wrong impression, bad press and all. We must distance ourselves–”

“–from the Heartland as much as possible, yes,” completes Chuck for Tom, one in the moment, their hatred of it growing by the hour, minute, day. What will it be tomorrow? Wheat? What’s Kaboom made out of? Lucky Charms? Everyone will be doomed; no getting well atall, at least for the older and more vulnerable folks, thinking down-in-the-hollow Kennedys here.

Shelley, fresh from pretend slaughtering hogs down the street, another Iowan staple, waits at the counter, overhearing it all. I could still use that corn for gas, she thinks humorously, staring at the mounted red ’57 Chevy and understanding why she’s here. “Wait!” she called, just as Tom was about to dump the corn in the bin like a baby that’s its own bathing water. “And I’ll take the car off your hands too,” she adds just later. Is that stretching a joke? You bet!

—–

Filled up, full blown ’57 Chevy down on the ground and rolling again, she comes to the actual reason for visiting Cedar Creek in the first place: Daniel’s day trailer, erm, Daniel Day’s trailer… during the day. Lunchtime, so should be home. She opens her mouth to speak.

“Hello?” Knock knock knock. “Hello??”

No one there, but finding the door unlocked she decides to wait inside. Why not? All this is role playing after all.

On the tellie, Shelley sees what Baker B. and Daniel D. are watching at the morning job Baker had kept him late at again, more magic of the place. “Peewee Big,” Shelley recognizes, probably to compare it with recently viewed “Father Fred”. Toward the end of the sync, Shelley also saw, right where Josh is hearing potentially triggering music again. Daniel should be here soon, she knows, aiming to eat a quick sandwich or something then head off to the afternoon job. I won’t be long.

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May 18, 2026 · 1:13 pm

00500305

“It’s one of your more successful collages, Baker B., it really is. “The Shining Pepper Project.” People should have been paying more attention to your work back then. But who’s fault is that?”

“Yeah, I know. What could I do? Copyright restrictions.”

“Well, *now* you’re doing something about it. Finally.”

“About Paul,” says Baker B. to Daniel, much much later when the transfer mistake was finally rectified. Baker B. couldn’t have known, but the part time job created so that he could focus the other half of his standard work day on his art trapped Daniel in a kind of hell. No smoke no smoke, the wood the wind! But now the truth is staring at him right in front of his face.”

“When did the switch occur?” says Daniel to Baker. “5 to 6 I heard. Kansas and Kentucky?”

“Reverse that and you’re correct.” TBC?

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