Category Archives: Constantynople

the coming of the robots

1st: Robert Matthew. Or Matthew Robert, whichever. Like Shelley and her horse before him, came down from Beatrice, via a rowboat in his case but, later, some say a duck to match his yellow. Or a yellow horse, whatever. Anyway, here he is, arriving from the north. Invited by Constantynople Prime Minister Baker Bloch himself to solve some obvious town issues. Too much human stuff going on; it’s becoming a weakness, maybe even part of a curse. Like Robert’s old Soap swampland he fortunately sold to a gullible man from Mark Twain, Florida.

“Town hall, please.”

“Right, then left through the tree, hehe, huhu, hooo.”

He watched him walk away, then: “Did — did I do well, Tom?”

Reply in head.

“A white aggie, eh? Best one yet!”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0307, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390212

Not yet (*sip*).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0212, collages 2d, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File, Washington

00390211

“April May June passed so fast April Mae Flowers. Now it’s July…”

“And we’re resurrected, yes,” replied Herbert Glenn Gold’s wife of 47 (?) years. “Waiting for action. ‘Annnnnd…'” she attempts to joke like a director. “Remember what happened last time.”

“Um hmm,” Herbert murmured while nodding, wondering where his pudding is. How could he eat his pudding without his meat, though? Strange thought.

“So much promise over on the Jeogeot continent. So much disappointment. House *deleted* after, what was it, 1 month?”

“At that,” Herbert Gold replied, even a bit more disappointed than April Mae over the affair. Speaking of which; he should bring this up now, before we get too far into the story. “I saw Merry Hill Gouldbusk the other day. Supermarket,” he continued. “She had 2 apples and one banana and then excused herself to the cashier and got one orange and slotted it between the 2 foods before the whole thing was rung up, all the items in that order. She was trying to tell me something. She didn’t seem to recognize me, though. I was shocked.”

“Gold face still in place?” April Mae only asked with a little venom. She was use to such sidetracking. After 48 (48!) years you learn to put up with a lot. And fantasizing about a woman half your age is not at the top of the shit list, not any more.

“Yes. Red hair still too.” Herbert stopped here, thinking back, which April Mae spotted. Still worth a hundred dollars? she wanted to ask but held her tongue. Long time ago now. They had bigger worries now, like how to cope with growing old. They had to stick together on this one. She’d seen Mr. Platinum, she’d seen the future. They could not turn back the clock.

“When did you get so tall, dear?” she diverted. She looked right. “And where is our favorite painting on the wall, the Blue Panther? The one we stole from… oh, I can’t recall, hmph, I can’t recall them all.”

Herbert slouched down and then answered the second. “I believe the farmer boy is bringing it over later.”

“What farmer boy?”

Herbert reconsidered. “No, I think it was repossessed. By the Blue Panther and his, erm, agent. Back at the end of novel 36. They came huffing and puffing up the hill to the house. Hill House we wanted to name it. But not after Merry.”

“Of course not,” April Mae waved the idea off. She tried to remember the repossession.

—–

Later in his study he remembered it was a gardener and not a farmer that his wife had had an affair with.

Later on the john, April Mae remembered that the art was destroyed instead of repossessed.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0211, Apple's Orchard, Constantynople, Nautilus, NWES Island^, Rank & File

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Yet another pepper, a 3rd for the shirt and top covering up the exposed tank. Superseding the other two?

Big Stickout in MACAvity, another West Virginie resonance.

Meanwhile, the actual, non-merged Shelleys have started taking train rides with each other on another part of the FILE, but are kicked off before entering the water, marking passage into a different sim. Shelley, one of them, I suppose Shelley 01 which would be more appropriate, then spots a red pin on a map of Pickle 01 off the coast of the 1st Bellissaria continent, technically part of the continent itself since it was the first landmass to form there. Maybe this is our next lead, she thinks, clothes still a bit wet from the brief dunking. But she fared better than the one sitting more up front.

Pickle 01 and Pickle 02, then. Just like Shelleys 01 and 02, interesting. Also combining, and perhaps not in a good way as well.

A different location for Pickle 01’s red pin back in photo-novel 21 but too similar not to mean something, most likely.

So Shelley 01 stays put at the map while Shelley 02 checks out the actual location on Pickle 01. Real time investigating we have here. Exciting! Let me just close up some windows before actually logging on the 2nd Shelley, the now basically duplicate to the first minus some secondary cosmetic attributes along with the use of more demos to save money in the process… Okay, that should be enough.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0208, Bellisaria, Constantynople, Nautilus, NORTH, Pickle 01, Pickle 02, Rank & File, Rim Isles, West Virginia

2 I’s 02

A backup is needed in case of failure. A top is duplicated. Kind of. Close as I could get.

She approached the bar after checking out the back (noticing the tank, etc.). “I’ll have what she’s having.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0207, Constantynople, Nautilus

X’s and

Mr. Babyface’s big mouth on his huge head forms an O. He realizes he’s been staring at perfection all this time, volcano at top, familiar green green Xilted and its now grassy fields at the bottom. All answers lie here.

Al temporarily staying over at the Temple of TILE until they get a true custodian of the place was thinking along the same lines. Paradise found. His itchy and scratchy down there has suddenly and, to him, miraculously cleared up, even though it appears to be exacerbated especially by heat and it’s now basically the middle of the summer. Subtract the bit o’ heartburn which he’s not worried about (he’ll adjust his meal again tonight to further pinpoint the issue), he realizes he hadn’t been this healthy in years. From this center of power combining present past future, he wonders what’s next for Shelley, for Arthur and Edward, for Mr. Babyface and whoever shows up to be his companion and sounding board for more Big E/Big Schwa theories in the Kidd Tower, perhaps old lover Greg Ogden (who can still change into green green Gregg Oden when provoked), or maybe nephew Peter Ladd, a cousin of Lamb’s Paul and thus from a different mother, even though they both call Babyface Uncle.

Mr. Babyface has the impression that Shelley and her boat boys will be moving out of the top of Kidd Tower soon, tired of the limited space there. Soon, then, his dining room and his staring chair will be backed by (the map of) Zebrasil not Xilted, as he moves out of W (lower) and X (upper) back to Y (lower) and Z (upper). That’s his hope.

In other locations, Mr. Z has dropped his backpack and its many masks collected over both real and virtual continents in the second floor of Crooked, determined to make it a home too, as well as a space to further the TILE study group he wishes to jump start here in town. The standing yellow ickle just below is sure to follow; another Lamb — and a needed 4th color to balance the other 3, red green blue. We’ll soon see.

But Mr. Z has a journey to make first. He additionally senses he must unite public north and private south into one to make Constantynople and Constance Island as a whole truly fulfilled; be made a *constant*. Myrtle Beech must be visited. And he needs to get the lowdown on the whereabouts of his own cousin Zimmy.

But I forget. Mary, the third member of Lamb to add to Peter (different from Peter Ladd) and Paul, is already here! And so is hubby Pitch Darkly. They’re established at Darkly Manor, their old home from Collagesity back in the days, back when it was set up right next door to the sacred Rubi Woods. Through a transparent upstairs wall they could stare directly into the many linden trees, the cypress 1’s and 2’s, the eucalyptuses, and, most mysterious of course but only occasionally, perhaps only that one time, Unch himself, the fabled 200th tree of the forest, the one that has the ability to uproot itself and go walking about the place. Being a Linden creation and thus supposedly permanent, the forest is still there. Just not Collagesity. The also sacred 97/97/97 spot that once united Collagesity directly with VHC City on the same continent of Heterocera is protected from alteration, i.e., terraforming from the outside, the thing which ruined the parallel 97/97/97 in VHC City, psychically uncoupling the 2 burgs.

And what of Shelley? *She* is from that same diagonal line crossing the continent, its very tip top in fact in Hooktip, a suburb of VHC City — 135/135/135. Another perfection, it seems. Mr. Babyface is huffing and puffing on his recently purchased Blue Pennant tobacco by way of Hana Lei which replaced inferior Red Dragon, still staring, still preparing in his mind. Won’t be long now.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0206, Constantynople, Heterocera, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Nautilus, Rank & File, Rubi^, Temple of TILE, VHC City^, Xilted

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In a cage underneath the bed he waits his turn as reality shifts back into fantasy, virtual playstuff and all. It was always going to be this way. Once they returned to the top. “How’s your novel going?” he said over, blue rose decorated suit back on. “I’m really sinking into this one,” she admitted to her hubby who was still gone a lot of the time, acting in Europe, Asia and Africa currently, Shakespeare being a world-wide phenomenon. “Sinking as… how?” “You know, really getting into character,” she replied. He rolled over, stared upward. If he’d kept rolling he would be looking right at the answer. “So you’re Jennifer Lane, the writer who *writes* Shelley. But to me you’re still Shelley, since I’m not in your books.” “Oh, you’re in them alright,” she said, which was truth. Just not the whole. 2-4 percent, like incomplete milk for a half baked, choco chip cookie. And so, on the 5th day… “Explain,” he ventured, pressing further tonight, kind of hearing the muffled cries of help from beneath him but still kind of not. He could sense an actor in peril.

So she gave him permission to come back into her life, to live in this place with them as well. Her lovely Edward, fresh from a dog park over in Pickle 02. Someone else was under the bed now. He stared at the answer. “Jem, is that you Jem?” He rolled over, all the way. “Oh it’s *you*.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0203, Constantynople, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Middleton^, Nautilus, Rank & File, Xilted

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Mr. Babyface is now downstairs in Kidd, having yielded the top 2 floors representing his old penthouse apt. to the new couple in town, the *owners* as it were (Arthur and Shelley). He’s also agreed to share the dining table of his upper floor with them, since their own upper floor is basically taken up with a bed. That’s fair, that’s fair, he ponders, puffing on Red Dragon this morning. Out of Blue Pennant, his favorite. Have to run up to West Virginie for a restock soon. But how to get there? Last time he had to go through Hana Lei, holding his nose all the time. Fairy poop, yeck! The worst kind, and they leave it all over the place, not believing in civilization and modern conveniences such as flush toilets and pressure showers. Thus the body odor added in to the rest of the smells, the poop, the pee. He *hates* going there. And yet… I suppose the band Lamb is still in all that mess somewhere. High as the sky; not figuring a way out yet. They have likely been totally assimilated, he reckons. Poor Paul, poor Peter and Mary. He may never see them again. His poor poor nephew (*sigh*). *Anyway*…

He continues to puff as he stares at the Big E on the now shared table, a ritual of sorts. He doesn’t know quite what to make of it still except that it’s perfect in its own way, and a worthy additional the TILE family of absolute glyphs. He stares at the green green sim of Xilted, thinking back to his own experiences there, 0202 as well and exactly 3 novels back. More perfection.

He met a soldier specifically named Chet, a veteran of the Trojan-Durexian War. He can’t recall the names of the other soldiers that were there at the outpost with him and then lover Greg (or Gregg) but he remembers Chet. “Grass, the usual,” Chet always use to say to him whenever he asks the ever pointing, gun toting soldier what he’s aiming at today from his lookout post. And Mr. Babyface would always pause in his activities of the day and stare out with him a bit here — into the green green hills of Xilted (now with grass!). Maybe they could be considered even… friends? What else did they talk about? The cow loving, fellow Trojan warrior now living in the Northern Hills of the original Bellissaria continent? Certainly a possibility, I’m guessing, although they could have become chums after this assignment was over given the whole perpetual war thing, but certainly before his own untimely, well, death. Chet died at the hands of a machete wielding enemy with more blood lust in his spirit. Kill or be killed, he learned too late. But perhaps he was right in doing so; rewards in heaven and so on. Mr. Babyface didn’t know about Chet’s death, I’m supposing. He’d only learn that later in this here photo-novel, 39 in a series of a lot. Maybe from Groover.

And how appropriate his table is now 3 floors down from the top of Kidd and thus displaying the Xilted sim on its side wall as well. At the top — his former upper floor again — Shelley has (XY*Z*) Zebrasil, very close to a volcano that had just gone off. Can he recover enough to go at it again the next day? You betcha! Yet another perfection and directly related. Little e to Big E, you see. TILE talk.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0202, Constantynople, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Middleton^, Nautilus, Rank & File, West Virginia, Xilted

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Weird she can see the lower tip of Beatrice from here, she thinks. Where she, in fact, comes from (novel 38; on a white horse). She checks the distance on the inworld map in her, um, mind. Over 200 meters away still, and her draw distance used here is only 64 to reduce lag in an urban area. She thinks again of Constantinople, the *real* thing, and her graphically talented, er, doppelganger. Here incarnated as Myrtle Beech out on the southern tip of *this* island. Another 200 meters or so in the opposite direction.

She moves to the opposite window of the upper floor of her new (!) apartment, important furniture purchase finished. It all revolves around, well, the central affair which is not an affair atall. She smiles at the irony. She can continue with her romance novel 39 and keep the marriage to Arthur intact. She can have her cake and eat it too. She came here, in effect, in 2 boats at once. But what really was this island she now exists on with her others? Constants? Close enough.

Arthur will be home soon from job hunting. Better get back to the interwebs and do some more research before he arrives (she decides). Hogs the whole living room with his applications and such. Great views, but — drawback — small apt. Barely room for the bed upstairs. And what about a kitchen? She’s *not* sharing an oven and a fridge with that big headed dude downstairs (!).

Strange, she think while staring from the couch now (*not* new). The entire Smipsons family shows up at the bottom of the store’s page but no sign of Al or Sarah’s avatar, hmm. Oh, she realizes. No adult content here; she’s not signed in to the Marketplace. And Al and Sarah are certainly adults now after what happened at the Homeless Union last night, away from Cowboy’s still drunk presence. Who cares if he chokes on his own vomit, Sarah thinks while packing her duffle bag for an overnight stay, looking down on him writhing about on the stained bed, murmuring something about Wanda and Gloria giving him 2 rides between snores and incoherent utterances. I bet they did, she thinks with vile, harking back to that afternoon and the beach and the lateness of his appearance and his *appearance* when he arrives. Drunk off his tits. “I bet they did,” she hisses aloud before stomping out, thinking this is at *least* a 2 night absence now. Maybe forever; probably so.

Back to the family…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0201, Ashton Village, Bellisaria, Constantynople, Kidd Tower, Nautilus, Rank & File

lazy boys

Things have happened in the sim of Hypolazy lately. Directly south of Constance and my Constantynople. Closest hit in (my map) Oracle, *only* hit really in any category, pop place or not, is Hypoluxo Florida, an incorporated town a little south of West Palm Beach. On a whim googled Hypoluxo + synchronicity and this came up at the top of the search results list: Reddit post mentioning Randonaut, a term I hadn’t heard of before and originating in the popular app called Randonautica. First the Reddit post (note the description of the find = Void)…

https://www.reddit.com/r/randonaut_reports/comments/iafpql/randonaut_trip_report_from_hypoluxo_florida/

… then the wiki I quickly dug up about Randonautica:

https://randonauts.fandom.com/wiki/Randonauts_Wiki

RANDONAUTICA is the world’s first & only quantumly generated Create Your Own Adventure app. Randonauting is a way to turn the world around you into an adventure. Randonautica was created to send a Randonaut outside of their day-to-day routine by using a quantum random number generator to derive a coordinate to journey to.

Owl as their primary symbol, related to this odd synchronicity concerning an original contributor named Jamal who was running the Randonaut chatbot server in its early days…

https://randonauts.fandom.com/wiki/Owl_Synchronicity

Turning to the Oracle again, we have a hamlet called Owls Head NY with an alternate name of Ringville, which quickly and obviously — to me anyway — resonates with the owl ring of Twin Peaks, featured in a number of photo-novel related blog posts up to this point. Like here:

https://bakerbloch.com/2017/09/10/59694/


Twin Peaks derived owl ring as worn by character Nancy in photo-novel 05

AnyHOOT, back to Hypoluxo FL and the generated coordinates from the Reddit post. When visiting the mentioned lake through Google Earth Streetview, found this graffiti on a cinder block wall bordering it to the north. Crooked letters — KRMNL — mixed with straight — HYCTY. Blurring of letters N, Y and T here is caused by camera. Unsure if HYCTY refers to HYpoluxo the CiTY, but KRMNL obviously relates to criminal. A *crooked* criminal of otherwise *straight* Hypoluxo was responsible for this illegal act?

Besides being in Hypoluxo, the town that is, the marshy lake in question is also just south of Hypoluxo Road which starts at the east end of Hypoluxo and proceeds basically straight across Palm Beach County for almost 10 miles before ending near where the vast, central Florida swampland begins.

Curiously in googling Hypoluxo + graffiti, a defiled Dunkin’ Donuts also just off Hypolaxo Rd. came up at the top this time, which is also exactly west of the graffiti from the marsh-lake pictured above. The spray painted message here: “Dukie,” a cruder product in both name and execution, also found on a neighboring storage facility. Wanted by the police, the scoundrel. Crooked not straight indeed.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0604, Constantynople, Florida, Google Street View, Nautilus, Rank & File, Wild West