Category Archives: **VIRTUAL SL

March 24, 2022 · 4:39 pm

00320216

Baker Bloch (and Baker Blinker) rescued Joey “The Venusian” Avatar from that Swamp Tree thingie over on Long Island and gave her a new assignment. Go back to Annaberg on the Jeogeot continent at the lip of famed Sunklands (yes, *that* Sunklands) and find Blue and Yellow and ask him some questions or just check in with him, see how he’s doing and what he’s been up to since we last saw him in part 1 of novel 30. We left him at the time of the rising sun, which, to us, the blog reader, mysteriously appeared as the word YELLOO with the YELL part being yellow and the OO part colored blue instead. The same image Marty saw, apparently for real this time (?), at another rooftop location in novel 26.

Now, in the present, Joey finds that he has something else blue and yellow to stare at from his caravan rooftop, still reading his Annaberg paper and catching up with the latest news. Ukraine, pheh. Bad juju over there…

… with a bunch of people involved for certain.

Perhaps that explains the no. 7 car running off the road and turning over just behind him here the other day, he thinks, maybe the day the war started.

The red and green balloon looms in the skies, visible to all residents at all times and reminding them of their loyalty to the 7 and the 6, not the 8 and the 5.

But the wise man with the blue eyes to match his overalls ponders the boys in the battlegrounds, growing up fast. But then growing young just as fast, 13 to 10 to 13 in an ever spinning wheel. Only 4 makes a complete and whole circle, he knows. The governments from all 4 corners of our world will have to understand that soon enough. For now, we remained perpetually trapped, as if in an Escher print.

In a related scenario, The Moon closely follows The Sun at this Annaberg carousel tucked in its nw corner, glad it’s no. 2 instead of no. 1. Best to hide in the shadows until this thing is over and not foolishly plummet down a falls and get directly involved. Right Joey?

And then, to end, Joey understands she must visit the Cave or the Cavern to catch up with the latest on Newt too. More soon, as I like to say.

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March 24, 2022 · 9:14 am

Fusion or thereabouts

“Over there is the Greek isle. And beyond it: Dub’s Jungle. They *know*. But, after all, this is a part of Nautilus too I suppose.”

He looks around at his tent site. “Wheeler?”

It’s so beautiful here, so compact, thinks Tom, still looking for Stan but allowing time to take pictures during the search too. Maybe Jim would know the whereabouts of Stan, since he is a friend of both. Tom doesn’t know Stan as well, but Stan owes him money. How much? one may ask. 5 dollars? 50 dollars? Enough to make a relative stranger go in search of him. Why did he owe him money? Jim knows Stan and Tom, or, to put it better, Tom knows Jim knows Stan (and visa versa). But he doesn’t know who Stan knows yet beyond the triangle, can’t see into the unknown. Because there lies Erik.

Actually Tom met Erik through Stan already and suspects that’s who he actually gave the money to. We don’t know the specifics, but that’s what I have so far.

A little help here, Hucka?

Nothing.

—–

Meanwhile, Erik cooks eggs and bacon in Manolis while Susie waits for more customers to approach. “Alright over there?” he calls to his cashier who he plans to fire in a couple of days if business doesn’t pick up. “Perfect,” she replies, and flashes him an appropriate symbol.

It’s just stuff like that he doesn’t like. He flips over the eggs and then perceives the quiet through the sizzle. Someone’s got to put Alvarado on the map! he thinks. Maybe he can devise some kind of fake murder story to draw in the tourists, something to spice up the appeal or broaden the knowledge of the place. He tries to come up with a name as the bacon is now done; slid off the skillet onto a waiting plate. Eggs: just a bit more. Eggs Benedict, he thinks, watching the white continue to set. Combines the name of a traitor with something symbolizing eyes, as if something is there to *look* for — or at. But then he forgets the insight until the next day, when a customer walks in with a camera still in hand and recognizes him.

“Erik?”

Erik turns. “Stan?”

“No: Tom.”

“Tom, right right. Stan’s friend.” He returns to his cooking. 5 customers in here right now, an onslaught for him. 4 eggs and 6 slices of bacon sizzling in one pan. It will be a tricky juggling project and he needs to concentrate. And Susie conveniently on lunch break, bah.

“That right.” Tom waits patiently, shuffles his feet. “How’s business?” he decides to ask in the awkward space, not hearing Erik offer anything about the money he’s owed, and the paying of it. 50 dollars. *No*: 500. 500 dollars. He said his business was doing badly and that’s why I, Tom in the moment, am asking about it, trying to jar his memory if he’s even forgotten about the loan. Maybe just avoiding the subject — probably. He decides to take a snapshot of Erik and put it on his blog with the caption “traitor” underneath it. Is that the right word? Tom decides it is. Erik eases two of the 4 eggs onto a plate. They appear to be eyes to Tom. I *see* who you are (!).

His body was found the next day in the bay, mission accomplished.

(to be continued)

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March 22, 2022 · 8:02 am

we know what will happen (this is part of Nautilus too)

Baker Bloch eats alone, Baker Blinker having excused herself to take her sub down to the beach. They’re apart again. When will the joining together occur once more? Soup’s getting cold. Better force yourself to take another bite. Spoon down… spoon up. There ya go (*slurp*).

—–

Later:

What’s he pointing to, Baker thinks while mimicking the gesture then following the indication.

Maybe this…

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March 22, 2022 · 2:10 am

newfound lands

Apologies to the reader: I couldn’t get a decent shot of Fern Wall or Fern Hole today. I certainly will return there and take additional photos on perhaps an overcast day, bringing out the colors more.

Moving on to Delta, then, just to the north, just up the cliff path following the River. In checking today, it kind of is a true delta, with the small stream at the head of it splitting into 2 smaller streams there, one proceeding down the southern side to the River, and the other following the northern border of the flat, triangular piece of land to same. So that’s North Branch, we’ll call it — and I guess this makes the feeder stream merely Branch to simplify — and South Branch, with River defining the 3rd side, or base, of the thing.

Below is a picture of a ruined tent near its center. Someone must have camped here for a while. Mystery Person. Or someone wanted to *indicate* that a person stayed here, hmm.

The Delta also contains several small trees (have to check what kind) with cow bones littered around their base. More symbols? Delta as location of the dead?

It just occurred to me that the site may have been manufactured. I’ll ponder on that strange idea further. The Delta may have been created, but perhaps not by man. Maybe humanoid but maybe not man.

Then it’s on to Mystery Cave this fair day, just north of Delta and visible from anywhere on its triangular territory. As I think I stated, I don’t believe this is a real cave, although I still haven’t examined the “mouth” (dark crevasse anyway) up close. Maybe tomorrow, slated to be another beautiful day in the NC mountains.

Appropriately, mysterious paths are found on the cliffs surrounding Mystery Cave, adding to the mystique of the location in general, Fern Hole/Wall, Delta, and Mystery Cave in toto. Oddly shaped trees, etc….

… with the etc. now including what appears to be a Monolith, again from the distance. I will also check this up close tomorrow, but on my hike today it clearly stuck out as peculiar. If it truly turns out to be worthy of the moniker Monolith then the person who camped on the Delta perhaps just turned into Erik. Or Eric. Or perhaps his son.

More soon.

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March 21, 2022 · 7:28 am

the process or result of joining two or more things together to form a single entity

He decided to kneel in front of the crucifix and pray for a plot to manifest before him. Or around him — couldn’t hurt. Wheeler, who seems to have reverted to Wendy, a thought of obsolete character she plays — red headed — is *trapped*, perhaps by pirates. On this continent. Nautilus. It seems we go 2 steps forward then 1 back. Or is it the other way around? Both (he realizes). Wheeler Wilson is also Wilson Wheeler. Black is White, in a yin yang fashion. FUSION. That’s where they took her, these pirates. I realized I had to send another agent out there. Let’s see, who we got (in the closet)? Joey “The Venusian” Avatar is still working on that case over at Long Island. Where are we on that? Must have a meeting of the agents to keep up to date with the most recent information. Then Dickie Doom — and Debbie Doom; Dickie recently met with Jennifer M. Friend on Alien Island which seems to be a mispelling of Allen Island — misspelling — just like in the Oracle. And the Oracle is kind of back (!), death knells premature.

Baker stands as they go off again outside. Death for others if not himself, he knows. What is this world coming to?

—–

They reconvene down at Manolis on this small Greek paradise isle, a restaurant specializing in soups and subs in no particular order. They talk after ordering, sub for Baker Blinker and, of course, soup for Baker Bloch to balance everything out. “Someone will have to get married — again,” he puts forth in the brainstorming event.

“Axis and Wheeler, pheh. We tried that. 2 steps back 1 step forward. Then 2 steps forward and one back.”

“Yeah I recall,” Baker Bloch responds, thinking of the inky black car that needed to be manifest at the time for traction. Ratmobile or something. Black and evil whatever. Tropp and Treelor never stood a chance. Tropp! Baker then thinks, and says the name aloud for the female version of his type, his kind.

“Possibility,” spoke Baker Blinker before him. “I’ve been in Wheeler’s shoes, you know. I understand what it feels to be trapped. You, as a man, just don’t understand.” She looked around the joint, and all the men with their open mouths eating food, their lip smacking. “Might as well be *all* pirates,” she summarized her feelings in the moment.

“You are me and I am you,” Baker said, and even reached across the table to hold her hands, look steady in her eyes. “You are a beautiful girl.”

“Why thank you (!)”. This cheered her up. Suddenly the mouths were far away. She was thin, very thin, but that was just her build. And tall. Thank you! she thought again in her head. I’m beautiful too, she realized. Just not what, er, Axis wanted. Axis? Tropp? They had to make a decision about the groom.

Baker Bloch briefly thinks that he and Blinks should get married instead, revisiting an old subject that she pushed in early days, before the realization that they were closer than husband and wife, closer than brother and sister. They were one. True fusion indeed (already). He let go of her hands as the brainstorming continued.

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March 20, 2022 · 2:24 pm

pointer

2 galleries spotted near each other in the now huge Belliseria landmass otherwise pretty berift of such according to the SL Galleries inworld map.

Visited one to left. No gallery. I’ll provide a picture with interface. Suppose to be, according to the map again, Shakti Studio, located on 152224 Rollingstone Parkway. Notice through the About Land dialog box I opened up that the property is owned by an avatar originally known as lifeisahard.rhode, with crucifix like crosses in her changed name.

The gallery near it, an actual one this time presently featuring the duo calling themselves Insane Focus, is the location we just visited 2 posts back with the wall of ferns, etc.

More soon…

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March 19, 2022 · 12:42 pm

00320209

Tomorrow I head again to Fern Wall, Delta, and Mystery Cave, which is not really a cave unless you were, say, shorter than high grass. Report soon.

filed under: Get Out!

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March 19, 2022 · 11:43 am

insane focus?

“I haven’t forgot about you,” Baker Bloch reassured Baker Blinker as they play a strange duet, uninhibited by time and space. “It’s just…”

“… things have become complicated, I know,” she finishes for him, still on the same page.

They share a memory.

Boss’ seat can’t be sat upon. Ferns harvested from a larger wall and merged together into a smaller one.

Duo. Wallonia. https://modemworld.me/2021/08/21/get-out-in-second-life/ http://virtualinsanitysl.blogspot.com/2011/11/insanefocus-exhibition.html

In Hrosskell below Erik beside Leif, Baker Blinker stands.

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March 18, 2022 · 7:52 am

starting over a second (life) time

That day I dreamed I was a red headed (instead of red dressed) girl named Wendy waiting on Carter to come save me from my heavily treed island-prison, I want to call it. Instead all I got were pirates, who carted me around the continent like some kind of cargo to be put on display. Nautilus still, but I don’t remember Lorsters Worst coming into play. Maybe I avoided the absolute bottom of it. Lucky dream self. Keep on dreaming, Elisa, for it’s time to work in an hour, I said to myself while eating my Toasty O’s for breakfast which functioned as supper for most. They’re up to 9 sided now, which I think officially, undeniably qualifies for the running-out-of ideas/going-too-far territory. I wipe the bit of  crumbs from my bathrobe while standing and move to the closet to retrieve my dress, thinking of red again.

Just then, back in the dream, Wendy sees a shark fin in the water beside the pirate ship pulling in, and takes it as a sign that the worst is yet to come, pheh. Blue, black and red bearded men jump out of the ship as one.

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March 16, 2022 · 8:16 am

cities

On her break, she liked to come to this park in the middle of it all to read her latest red book, this Lorsters Worst lady of the night. No sex in the book, since she needed to get away from all that which surrounded her like stardust glitter. Here: good solid plants. Earth. Grounded, she was. But break’s about over and the man with the big blue RAM truck with the souped up engine she didn’t quite understand the workings of had just killed his current adversary, the one who kidnapped his Damsel in Distress who was the same as his wife. These were no swingers. Really. That phony lifestyle got them in trouble but there was no sex involved in their interactions with the Charlotte club. Why would he allow that? she thinks for the character, the retired policeman who was now a private dick. That would be his, ahem, *unit* thinking for him, which needed to remain private.

—–

I think back to when I met the guy, in a Cassandra City establishment called Big Dick’s Halfway Inn.

He sat in relative darkness in the corner of the lobby, waiting for me it seemed. Probably was. I was an older man at the time, which means the same age as currently down to the month, day, minute. I asked him if he was the name on the establishment. He scooted forward, removed his crossed hands and revealed himself, said he was that in the flesh. I turned away, having seen enough. Biff Carter was his name. I remember that clearly. I also recall the hotel was full that evening, and I ended up sleeping in the chair opposite him in the lobby. He removed himself sometime — I don’t recollect when. Gabby (clerk) returned about midnight from his looong long lunch break, as he called it (another break!), woke me up, and after gabbing quite a bit about unrelated topics said I couldn’t stay here. Then he recognized me from the band — we were playing at Shenanigans at the time — and changed his mind, said it was okay instead. He later wrote me, after I had acquired much greater fame and also fortune, that he regretted that night with all his soul. Should have kicked someone out and given you their room, he said, but still didn’t say who.

Actually, now I’m recalling an earlier incarnation, involving another red door ta boot. Wendell “Biff” Carter yes. Just retired from the police force, check (after the Oakley Annie debacle: see case-file 37-QZ). Returned to the force briefly when former fellow cop Philburt got sick on pill, but the debacle that caused him trouble in the first place resurfaced in an unexpected guise (Orkley Andy: see follow-up case-file 38-AP). It was as if he was circling back on himself in an endless loop. He needed to break out. Buying half of a small hotel in the Queen City of the South seemed a recipe for success. But then came the swingers.

Could have been recently deceased Jer Ronamy from Starfish Lake Gabby wanted to kick out but I’m not entirely sure. Have to check the old hotel registers sometime if possible.

(to be continued)

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