Category Archives: Newtown

*******16

July 18, 2025 · 5:38 pm

00470407 (Mine, man)

She’d finished her shooting. She’d put back on her finest cashmere robe. This was the result, proudly hung in the hallway leading down to Newtown’s Ratskeller. Barry De Boy’s self proclaimed magnum opus “Toy Play Thing Mine”, part of his “Does This Look Square to You?” series, being exactly 814 x 814 pixels in resolution. And directly kin in this series to the similarly square foldup of the “Foxtrot” album cover by Genesis from ’73 we’ve just seen back in post 01 of this section, also associated with Shelley and the request by new SC librarian Miss Ouri for her to come out from under the lamp and “get big” before them, which she refused to do as was appropriate and logical and decent. ’73: a good year for progressive rock albums indeed. Magical. Spread out centerfold in that case here:

The corresponding folded out version of “Toy Play Thing Mine” has been lost to time, which is in all likelihood for the best as well. But we do have this from “Foxtrot” again, specifically the long and epic “Supper’s Ready” track from side 2, as a kind of indication to what is going on. Green-Gray perpetual war results here again…

We now know that that “Foxtrot” described location of a plateau full of green grass and green trees with Narcissus gazing lovingly at his reflection circles back to this:

And its slowly but surely increasing number of *toys*.

Careful with it. Carefull. Very precious it is. And perhaps fragile. One long gust of wind from the real world all around could eradicate the magic and the spell. Make sure the colors are out of sight as best as possible, white here included. Hide the growing toy avatar village of Flathardt on the edge of this green plateau well. Do not put stuff like blue roses more toward the makeshift path than runs through it all as a possible tipoff to its presence. This is enough of a blue rose case already without such a physical marking. Flatness like this at the head of a hill does not occur naturally. Keep that always in mind during visits and updates.

Now if only the daily mountain rains would stop, UUGH.

(to be continued)

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July 17, 2025 · 9:09 pm

00470406 (3:19)

SHORTLY…

Hmm, another owl’s beak along with a whole, attached owl, or a rendition thereof, he thinks. I wonder if Madge lives here? Maybe that’s why I involuntarily walked here after leaving the pharmacy. Those owl beaks sure have power (!). Couldn’t *wait* to nibble on one.

—–

But there was only ruins within. Madge, nor anyone else, dwelled in this spot in Newtown in the sim of Newt on the continent of Jeogeot, also the location of Newt’s “other” home of Nawt Vaya, the one he doesn’t hang around as much lately. He’s on too many trails here. But this one: dead end. Better get to the park and meet Wheeler, he thinks while looking around at the barren stone walls surrounding barren stone and grassy floors. Where one trail ends….

At the same time in space, Alfred Hitcher leaving the downtown grocer with actual soda also suddenly has the urge to visit the park. We know the soda will be gone by the time he gets there. Perhaps he drank it along the way; might explain the subsequent hallucinations. Teaming up with no good lie-about Fisherman Jim to fight for the right to own an imaginary island, humph. In his wildest dream! But that’s what the fold out part did to them, additional drug enhancement present or not. Power enough on its own. Remarkable.

(to be continued)

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July 17, 2025 · 8:51 pm

00470405

“What’s your name, handsome? I’m Madge.”

Was she talking to me? I thought she was looking at the pharmacist. But now the pharmacist is looking at me with raised eyebrows, triangle complete. She’s talking to you! he prompted. Because of course she’d already probably know the pharmacist’s name, both being residents of this here Newtown in all likelihood.

I thought quick. I didn’t want to say my name was Newt because that was the same as the sim, and then I’d have to go down that rabbit hole why they were the same and how I got my name from the sim, yada yada yada. So I made up one on the spot. Looking at the cash register in front of me, it all came together.

“Mark,” I said. “Mark, er, Pfennig.” Born January 1st, 1963 but I left that part out for her. The pharmacist eyed me suspiciously but said nothing. I think he might have even winked at me; yeah, let’s go with that.

“Mark. What a beautiful name,” she cooed, striking yet another provocative pose. The pharmacist rolled his eyes a bit here, let’s say.

“Madge is nice too,” I thought to reply back, not wanting to seem *too* rude. But of course I had no interest of that type in this woman. I have to be 5 years younger than you! (he thought vainly). And look 15 years younger (he kept going down that road).

“Why thank you, sweetie.” She then held out an arched hand palm down, apparently for me to either hold or maybe even kiss. Is this some kind of German custom I wasn’t aware of? I took the hand and shook it. Her face expressed disappointment, insult even. “Humph,” she uttered, her whole arm going limp, hand sliding out of my grasp.

Co-pharmacist or perhaps pharmacist assistant Gerald (Geralt?) comes to the counter with a prepared bag. Stephan (pharmacist at the counter) slid it toward Madge. “Here’s your, um, *soda*, dear.”

“Soda, yes,” she said, grabbing it with the same hand I tried to shake and then giving me a look that told me this wasn’t in any way soda. “Owl’s beaks,” she whispered to me while pivoting from the counter. “For the nighttimesss,” she hissed, then locked onto my eyes for a second while tilting her head before moving toward the door, old yet still effective hips in full swing. I couldn’t help marvel at the scene.

“So what can I do you for?” asked Stephan. “The same?”

“Yeah,” I admitted when finally turning around.

(to be continued)

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July 13, 2025 · 9:10 pm

00470404 (another manifestation)

She had to take Ice Cube’s and, by default, Eraser’s spot in the contest since she effectively eliminated both at once in that scene with the crusher from several posts back (“Apple!, Orange!, Banana!,” SPLATT). But it took some time for her to wake up from this comfy red white and blue US of A tinted picnic blanket and remember all this, YAWN. The prepared Playboy magazine with the girl representing naked truth about to be revealed from beneath another blanket helped. Pure glinty, ruby red it was now. Like her. All she had to do was fully wake up and take a gander inside. Because this was actually her new paired teammate Bookie, here for the cause.

“WOW-za. That’s ME??” she says to him after opening to his Center. Then she unfolds to see even more….

Wheeler and Newt soon join them in the gawking, Alfred and Jim too after the latter stops fishing and fulfills the requirement for no rules breaking from a teammate. Our teams are forming. What other characters will be paired together in this here Town of Newt to continue the Battle, this Newt-Town: Newtown? Like New York except different, since that was Section 02 and this is Section 04. Harmonized none-the-less, I feel. Not planned, though. Just happened. I won’t say hmm again but it is implied.

(to be continued)

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July 11, 2025 · 2:56 pm

00470403 (benchmurk)

Rules freak Alfred Hitcher looked over at Fisherman Jim with fire in his eyes and boiling blood in his body. *No* fishing, he seethed, and was about to move toward him and tell him so in person, right up in front of his face, maybe yanking the rod right out of his hands and throwing it in the pond, then dumping whatever fish he’s already caught into the water right behind it.

Prompted by on again off again hubby Newt already at the scene, she landed right between the two, noted the similar color. Both murky now, she said to herself. Murk Lake, she quickly decided on a new joined name for the former two. Not Clear to the left, Black to the right any more. One lake, one pond. Different (!). She looked around for Newt. There you are!

Noticing her on the bridge now, Alfred’s attention suddenly shifted from Jim to Wheeler. Where’d *she* come from? He tried to think of a rule she was breaking by just manifesting out of thin air on a walking board between the 2 once differently hued bodies of water but couldn’t come up with one, despite sensing that at least one indeed was being violated here somehow. The rules he loved to separate black and clear had also turned murky in this particular case. Hmm again.

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July 11, 2025 · 9:06 am

00470402

Driving Norris and riding Pietmond arrive in town, running over Germans right and left with their ramming, bamming van, bam bam bam! (ram ram ram!)  But they were all zombies, they justified the killings, kill or be killed being their current team motto. Something was afoul here, they quickly and correctly deduced by sniffing in the air once inside the city gate. Denmark? Close!

“I figured it out,” said Pietmond to Norris, not worrying so much about the driving and ramming and thus with more time on his hands to think and ponder and study. “The ones with the old fashion helmets are zombies, and the ones with the newer headwear are actual people. I can tell it by their eyes. Better avoid those ones from here on out.”

“Right!” But a newer headgeared one was right in front of him when he said this and was run over anyway, oops. “Starting… NOW,” Norris said just afterwards, perhaps even with a smile as he keeps driving forward at a still pretty high rate of speed into the heart of the situation. The rest of the teams should be arriving soon.

(to be continued)

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May 24, 2023 · 3:49 pm

00380414

Good fishing in Black Lake, she’d always heard. At least before the Big Split, as some people ’round these parts call it.

Why was Ruby here? I thought she was heading to Wally in Wallytown, I can hear the reader express. Confusing enough! But we decided to place her here in Newt, in Annaberg taking up the whole sim of Newt, because the wall had been sort of torn down in Wallytown, formerly interior trees exposed to the harsh light of reality, spirits within perhaps removed to some more spiritual plane of existence. The Wall has been demystified, and the town had changed along with it. No more California over there, Nevada over here. No more Green Monsters to worry about, stashed away in a dark inside ready to pounce on unsuspected passerbys. All that was in the past. Capitalism, the worrying about bits and baubles, was front and center now. So Ruby felt the place worthless to her and her own peculiar dilemmas and issues and moved on. Black vs. Clear represented a more updated version of all that. So we slotted her into the Newt history, which is kind of overlapped with Osse-motor’s history now, thanks to Jimmy Dieselengine, or so she understood. Help me! I heard Ruby cry. Help us! I cried in turn. Bring your ice cream outfit and ice cream eyes over here! Set yourself down at a convenient place, use your observing eyes to *see*.


Fisher Island’s Wallytown with now exposed trees

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May 24, 2023 · 10:44 am

00380413

“My card, sir.” And then he took his leave. When the matre d asked who to say left it while he was walking away, he just shot back: “Someone very smart; say it was from Albert EINSTEIN.” “Very well, sir,” Edvin replied. The stranger made a turn up the stairs past the site of the future Barry De Boy painting and was out of sight if not out of mind. Even though Edvin thought he might be. Odd, he kept thinking, staring at it. How can odds be evens? And was there an s cut off at the end? But Osse-Motor. That spelt trouble. Christopher’s more visible brother Jimmy lost a mansion because of it. Perhaps several. Forty lost an eye.

One hour later, Eight was with town gossip and bigot Rag Doll instead of counterpart Eighty, wasting time instead of making hay. Deadly time. Edvin moved toward them with the redeeming card. “Someone left this for you,” he said, extending it. Eight took, read. “Albert Einstein?” she questioned, looking top left. “Throw it away,” Rag Doll opposite her suggested after quickly grabbing and reading  it herself, knowing the name. “Worthless. Nonsensical.” She knew what Osse-Motor meant better than anyone in town. Dang, she could lose her *own* house if Eight (or Eighty) took this seriously. An eye!

(to be continued)

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May 22, 2023 · 4:44 pm

observation point

Important SODA representative Christopher “Sound of Music” Piper knew Eighty and Eight could get to the bottom of this Black vs. Clear, sight vs. sightless thing. If they could keep straight which is which and who equals ten and who equals one. They keep multiplying on top of each other, passing through each other in effect. Odd if it wasn’t even. It represented his top priority about the village: keeping these guys on the straight and narrow, up and up.

And, oh yeah, bringing all the old war zombies back to life. They have wrongs to right too!

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May 22, 2023 · 7:00 am

00380411 (turning)

“I don’t know why they renamed this part of the lake Clear. ‘Bout as black as the other part as far as my eye can tell.” Eighty knew Forty couldn’t see with the other one so no need to correct the singular. Another victim of the war, let’s say.

“Meddling, pure meddling,” she replied. “Boredom maybe. The more things change the more they stay the same.”

“Amen to that.”

They kept staring at the still pretty murky water, despite the acquired name. Eighty spotted the octopus again, reminding her she had to meet her counterpart Eight at the town ratskeller. She excused herself from this wonderful but ultimately fruitless conversation. Her last uttered sentence here says it all. Black split up with a dam to make Black and Clear but it doesn’t matter. Everyone can *see* what’s happening, even half-sighted Forty here, Eighty’s wannabe boyfriend but only part of the way there so far. And, spoiler alert, it doesn’t get better for him moving forward. Because she’s got an extra 8 on top of the one she already has. Sometimes they forget which is which.

—–

“I forgot you were coming,” Eight admits. “Sometimes I…”

“… forget which is which yeah yeah yeah.”

“You too?”

“Me too,” Eighty reciprocates. She has to ask why to a lot of things to help remember the y, the letter that makes all the difference. Why split Black Lake with a dam that was formerly just a footpath bridge to create Black and Clear? Stuff like that. She stays outside most of the time because of it. Eight: usually here… in the relative dark. Sometimes sitting with Rag Doll instead of “sister” Eighty. Which is how turning Alessandra remembers the scene, finished studying the newest work of boy-like genius Barry De Boy. Men, she thinks. So full of themselves. She’ll stick with bathing suit clad Shelley, however imaginary she is… no one else can see; black instead of clear.

“Welcome back Miss Aless,” Edvin the matre d spoke up to her, like a page to a queen. Table for one as usual?”

She wanted to say, “make it two tonight,” but knew she couldn’t. Busboy Peterson had starting clearing her regular spot as soon as she showed up on the stairs, studying that painting from the future. Almost done.

(to be continued)

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