Category Archives: Jeogeot

October 1, 2019 · 6:08 am

New WES

“It’s the first megaburg on the (Jeogeot) continent since WES, reportedly. And they’re trying to bring back at least *sections* of the old into the new. Red is there, for example. Red shirt; red head.”

“Merry Gouldbusk, then.”

“Um. Sure. But in this incarnation she likes to go by Breeze.”

“What incarnation? (pause) And what *sex* is she?”

“Answer me!”

“If you touch one place I am a man. If another: a woman. It is as yet undecided, then.”

“Thank you for answering me, er, Breeze.”

“You’re welcome.” *click*

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0201, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot, Marwood, NWES Island

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September 30, 2019 · 6:26 am

Fi 02

I wonder what all this reference to Metal means around here?

Oh well. Time to clean the bathroom again. I’ll show The Man About Time I’m worth my weight in… *something*.

—–

“I will find you, my friend. I will find you and set you free. I understand a little something about being trapped in the head.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0117, Collagesity Fordham-, Jeogeot, Nautilus, West End

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September 30, 2019 · 5:50 am

Fi 01

Dadada Again (!). And I can buy for nothing. Yes, Herbert Gold must stay in this West End for a spell. Try to reconcile with the present wife but, if not, there’s always red. Redshirt red, redhair red. Something red. 4th.

How exciting! West End still has magic, probably due to the lingering effects of WES. From beyond the grave.

—–

“Don’t you think WES could be Joplin, Hucka D.?”

“Could be, baker b.”

—–

Rentals? ponders Herbert Gold, spotting the sign while heading back from the road’s terminus. Sounds intriguing. Maybe April Mae will like it better here than that box in Dewey.

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September 30, 2019 · 4:35 am

on the border

Herbert Gold sat at the terminus of West End Road just before dawn and started his first painting ever, simply entitled “Gold”. Afterwards he gets the strong sense of being boxed in again and realizes he has to end it with April Mae. Wife #4 on the way. He has an inclination to go with a redhead this time. Younger. Red. We’ll see what happens.

This statue commemorates the discovery of sculpted prims in ’06. Found in the prim mines of Heterocera, sculpted prims were immediately recognized as a new category of prim that would change the face of Second Life forever. This statue is dedicated to the brave Moles who delved into the pixelated crust of Heterocera Atoll in order to bring forth these valuable prims.

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September 29, 2019 · 6:42 am

flagged

He had to get it over with. It should have been done yesterday. Danny had to come to Dewey to live. For good. That’s why the names are in his county.

Just right over there.

Better, hrmph, hop to it.

—–

—–

“I don’t know what to say, Man About Time.”

“Jim K., please,” The Man About Time requested about his name. “Call me Jim.”

“Well, whatever, this is a wonderful gift. Thank you!”

“And, as you can see, we’ve copied both your American and Florida flag from the trailer to here. Much more room. And Greyhound Imperial Town is right next door. Hear they have a nice art museum you can clean up. I know you like art.” Not quite enough to save your Fal Mouth Moon job, though, The Man About Time thinks to himself here. Tronesisia’s orders: Danny had to go. The Humanvillians had jumped off the confines of 2-dimensional art and come alive. Herbert and April Mae Humanvillian, ugh. Denizens directly from Mammoth Cave (Kentucky Town) to an art gallery near you. They’ll be in for a while. Hope they like their new neighbor.

—–

“This is *ridiculously* small,” complained a totally pissed off April Mae to her husband. “This door won’t even *fully shut*.”

But Herbert Gold was strangely taking all the upheaval quite calmly. Time for a change, he thought but didn’t speak aloud. I’m tired of servants and groundskeepers. We’ll be better off here. He was beginning to dwell on his exes again. And a new one possibly coming up soon.

Oh, and he didn’t die. Tronesisia brought him back to life. Guess that cheers him up a bit too.

And that’s how the Humanvillians came to Dewey. Soon they would explore the whole West End peninsula, all the way to Sentinel at its coastal terminus. Much more interesting in the days when megaburg WES was around, the musical birthplace of the band Love The Three and its Marty, Lemon and George Harris’ Son. Destined they were for great, star studded things, once Ingor was added.


Ingor “Redman” Ratts in WES, c.2007


Now where *are* they?

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September 28, 2019 · 6:47 am

Tin (double)

“Ahh, I found it. The place Roger Pine Ridge was born. Dewey.”

—–

“Tronesisia.”

“In the nuts and bolts!”

“Did I choose well? Did I do right?”

“You are leaning slightly more toward fame than obscurity but (the margin) is acceptable. Your *doppleganger* is balancing you by leaning toward the opposite. You may approach.”

The sweating Man About Time moved forward then bowed.

“I have *so* much to ask (!).”

“Let’s brighten the place up a little bit first…”

—–

“We should have given it back,” Herbert Gold reinforced to his wife. “The object was obviously set on the wrong permissions. I *told* you at the time.”

“I just thought it was… *fate*(!),” April Mae tried to defend about the stolen art.

“Like the rare atlas that you could have stolen from that library because it was already checked out to someone else, hmph.”

“Y-yes.(!)” She couldn’t pass up another opportunity.

But now they were in *trouble*(!!).

—–

“This is like you and Madame Silver, Herbert Gold,” Tronesisia spoke behind him, referring to one of his exes. “But you had the decency to move beyond her. Question, though: is she silver, or actually — perhaps — *tin*?”

Similarly sweating Herbert Gold, who knew he was in hot water, expressed relief that Tronesisia didn’t say platinum.

“Oh yeah,” Tronesisia corrected with a small laugh. “Pla*tin*um. That’s what I meant, ha.”

Oh boy.

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September 22, 2019 · 7:29 am

for my dopplegangers

“In looking back — in line with the Blackstar Event — I really, truly think at least an aspect of David Bowie entered Collagesity right after his death, stayed a spell, and then left after flirting with my female counterpart Baker Blinker.”

“I *know* who Baker Blinker is,” countered Merry Gouldbusk, softly playing a Bach piece currently as background music. One of the “Goldberg Variations” I might assume.

The male Baker, Baker Bloch, continued. “This would be January 2016, as told in the first Collagesity photo-novel.”

“Yes. ‘Blackstar’. Amazing album. I know of what you speak.”

“He also said he was there to read one specific book called ‘Blood Curdling Tells of the Rubi Woods’…

“….formerly ‘Blood Curdling Tales of the Rubi Woods’, ha…”

“… about the hauntings of an old forest bordering Collagesity immediately to the west. Through it he learned of a legendary creature called the Tinbaby. At the end of his stay, he used the power of the Tinbaby in the woods, which can somehow fold up space seemingly, to leave Collagesity and continue his journey through the afterlife. Also afterwards, the woods had to temporarily be erased — purified — because, I believe, Bowie had to become fully separated from the Tinbaby, which was also the same as Dr. Blood or the Ozian Tinman, who shows up next.”

“The woods had to be purified,” spoke wise Merry Gouldbusk, “because David Bowie had to move on, yes. Had to move on from Baker Blinker primarily. Because…”

“… that was Karoz’s girl. Destiny they were to be married. Right in the center of novel 1.”

“But… you go.”

“But the Tinbaby — it never hit me to associate this with a tin can.”

“Tin Machine,” Merry Gouldbusk finished, and then switched from Bach to a different metal after picking up a guitar. “Goodbye Mr. Ed.”

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April 23, 2019 · 7:56 am

new

There’s someone fairer, e’en got more art
So rest in pieces, ’cause you’s got to depart
I’ll miss you more than you can ‘magine
I’ll miss the woods
I’ll miss my home

—–

I see’s it!

A way out.

—–

Not stuck any more.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0013, 0601, Collagesity Fordham-, Jeogeot, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Noru, Rubi

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April 22, 2019 · 8:53 am

continue

Who am I?

Who was sitting opposite me?

I am here. But not here. There. Better get there.

—–

The grass has changed. Trees. I look to the distance and see…

Unsure.

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April 1, 2019 · 8:59 am

no room

Karoz spoke over to the meditating Baker Blinker. “The Oracle Tree is broken, yes, but it’s still good to be back.”

“Chilbo. Without the ‘l'”

Few souls reach the top of the Oracle Tree. It was planted obscurely, in a small backwater of the Metaverse, with its uppermost branches hidden in the clouds, across a narrow path that’s easy to tumble off for the uninitiated traveler.

But now that you’ve arrived, relax a moment, ponder the blueness of the sky or the twinkle of the stars, and think about the view.

Perhaps you’re looking for a bit of wisdom from the Tree. It has such a promising name after all. “The Oracle Tree,” one thinks, “It must have something to say.”

But it doesn’t. It’s a figment of someone’s imagination, left behind as a monument to creativity, exploration, wonder, and fancy. A whimsical flower perched atop, I wish I could see it flutter in my imaginary breeze. Yes, someone came along to this spot and planted The Oracle Tree, and left us no bits of wisdom at all.

Though perhaps that isn’t true either. Perhaps there is wisdom in the expression of our imaginations, our flights of fancy, our whim. Tinkering and messing about to make our dreams visible, to ourselves and to others. Perhaps make them more real in this world and the next.

That’s the wisdom I’ve taken from the Oracle Tree, and I pass it on to you, traveler. Build something wonderful for the next person to find.

Safe journeys through the Metaverse. It’s certainly a curious place.

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