Category Archives: **VIRTUAL SL

00510607

“Thank you for treating us to lunch at this fabulous eating establishment in our fair fair town.”

“Yes thank you,” echoed Preacher Ziegler, presider over their marriage as Doctor Doughmachine beside him presided over Okama’s death and subsequent quick cremation. They had to do it that way because of the Pill. Highly contagious, you see. Hiigh.

The just married, just redubbed Silvers across from them both nodded, waited for more. Tony B. was still in his wedding tux but Shelley J. had to change out of her gown for fear of ruining the train. They were scheduled to leave town on it at 10:09 tomorrow morning, Eastern Standard Time — *North Carolina* Standard Time not accidentally. Because they were subbing one for another in this deal with a devil likewise named Bandana like the borough still surrounding them and, yes, still threatening to absorb them. Even if they didn’t realize it at this time. They thought marriage would set them free. He’d maybe been turned back to his original form of exotic pizza topping again but the talking banana’s influence would be felt for months, years, days after this. 10:09 now. Only 12 hours before the train and only 12 hours after their friend, their former Silver band member Okama Majo had passed away. And 24 hours after they originally thought of getting the marriage license, I’ll add. It all happened just that quick, as in a wink, as in an eye.

Dr. Doughmachine passed a Burger King cup across the table to the Silvers which they at first thought was a shake. But the hand stayed behind while the cup remained and they knew what it was by Doughmachine’s somber appearance. “Here. This is yours now. His body is in your hands. Do with it what you wilt.”

Frankie and Johnny, I mean, Shelley J. and Tony B. hadn’t even considered this. Where would they scatter Okama’s ashes? Certainly not this town, the place where he contracted the often fatal Pill and died as a result. Perhaps Nawt Vaya, around the Kidd Tower. It was here that Shelley considered the fate of Mr. Babyface who also lived in that structure, if not in Nawt Vaya itself. Is the Kidd Tower cursed? she couldn’t help think. First Mr. Babyface with the Orgamast water funnel and now–

“Dear,” Tony B. interrupted his new wife’s reverie. “It’s time to go back to the motel. Honeymoon,” he summarized his banana fueled urges in a word while gathering up the cup with Okama’s remains. They might never leave. tbc?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0607, Bandanaboro, Jeogeot, Kidd Tower, Nawt Vaya+, North Carolina, NVFS, Omega

00510606 (metals/color)

“Frank.

“I know what happened.”

Lead to end.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0606, Bandanaboro, Frank's Moving Castle, Indigo Parallel, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS

00510605

He fever dreamed of finding the banana himself, not a talking version like Tony’s but he had a way to remedy that. Return to the goldfish with the banana on top and insert. “Goldfish — banana — top, got it,” he said to the Dreamweaver before entering the stage. “Goldfish — banana — top,” he repeated now before it. Pick it up, he also realized. Now back to the floating fish he’d passed only minutes earlier.

Nom nom nom, little fish. Nom nom nom.

There! A whole bunch of them now, and larger than ever each and every one. Bananaboro! No D needed.

And there’s my little fishy! All grown up. “Hi up there! Hiigh!”

Cover him up, Luther. Time of death (he checks his watch): 10:09.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0605, Bandanaboro, Indigo Parallel, Omega

00510604 (Silvers)

His head kept pivoting toward her atop his otherwise static body but she was just that much of a head turner to him, although she didn’t think of herself that way. Modest; naive even. Part of the appeal obviously. A peel.

On the 5th night of their 5 day stay in Bandanaboro, right after their last gig at Rock & Jim’s Gay Ol’ Music Club on Rehab Road, Tony B. and Shelley J. were married in a private ceremony at Belle’s Lost Church off Holy Hero Street, catty-corner to the courthouse where they just got their license for a flat 60 dollar fee per state law with no waiting period between its purchase and the wedding itself required. Fellow Silver band member Okama Majo — make that *former* Silver band member — couldn’t attend since he was on his death bed, or at least 66.67% of his doctors thought so. Tony and Shelley probably wanted to squeeze in the wedding before the funeral. The talking anthropomorphic banana also named Bandana was now nowhere to be found, having been eliminated through a corrected pizza order from Luigi’s where the fruit arrived on time atop the pizza and not later as a split off entity aiming to stir up trouble in town. Correction: Let’s make it that Tony B. had to strike a deal with the intelligent yellow dude to get rid of him. Assume the last name of Silver per his request to untangle the ins and outs of that name, that metal, that lake, that whatever, and he’d leave his life forever. He could also split this town of Bandanaboro perhaps named for him but perhaps not too. If he took a wife. “Corrections must be made,” the banana being again before him stated firmly. “Will you do it?”

“I do,” he said several days later to Shelley J. before Preacher Ziegler at the alter, name fully transferred from band to man to couple. tbc?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0604, Bandanaboro, Mythopolis, Omega

00510603

Yes. Better at the other end of Justice Ave. opposite the Monkey Statue down at the soccer field. Pink clad dark haired halo topped Shelley J. Struthers front and center, soon to acquire another S name altogether. Okama to her left. Both stare at Bandana the banana, but he has no eyes to see Justice.

Even better. Okama fades from them as a license is thought of for the first time, leading directly to the church behind. Events are being set quickly into motion. tbc

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0603, Bandanaboro, Omega

00510602

There’s no way I can take a decent shot of the golden dome topped courthouse from the end of Justice Ave. and also include the street sign. I give up this morning. Besides, the sim’s going offline in 299, 298, 297 seconds. 294… must return to home and reorient.

—–

10:09:

Better. About as good as I can do. Now I can rest easy tonight, hah. But where is Tony B.; the talking banana; Shelley and Okama the two permanent members we know about of the band Silver that is slated to play at least a 5 night gig in this town of Bandanaboro in the upper east west central part of the Omega continent? Shouldn’t one or two or maybe all 4 of ’em be posing in this picture? Who is taking the picture? Is the last name of Tony B. actually Bandana like the banana he’s talking to now? Why would Luigi’s send over a talking banana instead of the banana topping he actually ordered? What’s wrong with descending into the sandy colored Body in town from its Head, dumb, very dumb being the implication for doing so? Dumb Man. 4 eyes. 4 pairs of eyes. What do they see? Do they see me? Can I see them? Why can’t I see them? Is it this town? Is it this courthouse, this avenue that turns into Holy Hero Street at its door? End of Justice here, beginning of Justice down there. Will Justice be served? How do we untangle all the involved Silvers now, throw in the California town of Silver Lake formerly known as Edendale as well? Why is AI hallucinating a well in or very near Bandana NC? Does it have to do with the well of information I received from the two owners of, well… here?

Rock &… One Strange Rock. Is this Earth or is this one strange rock somewhere else? Is it quartz? Mica? All of the above or none of the above? I can’t sleep after all. I’m going to get up and have some water, watch some more Youtube videos, maybe pop open another non-beer. Starfield always seems to do the trick. I’ll try one of the ones where the pace across the planets is faster. Wish me luck!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0602, Bandanaboro, GTA, North Carolina, Omega

00510516

“Silver?” I exclaimed about the name he just uttered. Like my band. At least temporarily, until Okama Majo returns from being sick on Pill. Poor guy. 5 night gig I knew, then back on the streets, back to facing the threat of abject poverty.

“Yes, Silver as in Frankie, Silver as in Charlie… Charles. First white woman in North Carolina to be executed, murder being the crime that fit the punishment, eye to eye style. As your ape-like human civilization has a penchant for,” the banana being before me continued. “Yet she claimed her husband deserved it as he abused her and threatened her own life. Many in the Burke County community where she lived backed her story. Yet only one made it back to a final resting spot on home soil queerly near by but not in Silver Chapel (Cemetery) in Bandana — like me! Instead: the smaller Silver Cemetery in Kona a little over 2 miles away. Will you help me parse out this tangle of Silvers throw in Silver Lake as well and find out what went wrong? Can you help me find… Justice?”

“Down Holy Hero Street and take a left at the courthouse,” I wanted to joke but held my tongue. Which made me think of the statue at the end of Justice facing the courthouse. Seemingly credited to a Depraved Monkey’s Club [sic: Den] if I remember correctly. Is this humanity as a whole? Will the aliens who may be the same as AI allow us to continue in this way?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, California, Mythopolis, North Carolina, Omega, 0516, 0051, Bandanaboro

00510513 (squares)

https://bakerbloch.wordpress.com/2015/02/12/22431/

Hucka D.:

You move away from the tetraptych, true, but images collide more in meaningful ways here, although you’ll return to the multi-panel works soon enough. Now you noticed the *Achilles heel*.

bb:

Yes. The Achilles heel of the boy. And this relates to Achilles, Virginia and Lady and Glass there and a particular story from “Winesburg, Ohio”, also highlighted by Faherty’s “The Ordained”. The blue-green horse emerges from the hole, like a cave on its side. The cyan or blue-green horse is Eoc, Hucka D.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0051, 0513, Bandanaboro, Jerrymap, Mythopolis

00510512

I was promised a personal favorite Jack in the Box but instead received Pizza in what was suppose to be a climactic ending point for the King and Queen line of eating establishments facing west. Tired of burgers and ice cream, I finally caved in and got over my grudge with them in a situation that really wasn’t their doing and gave Luigi’s a call at 11:00 on September 11, PM not AM. I couldn’t afford morning food by this time. Ordered the house special banana, attracted by the low cost and also, a bit, the potential exotic flavor. Never had that topping before, hmm. Imagine my surprise when it didn’t come with the pizza but instead showed up several minutes later at my door all anthropomorphized and shite. “You’re late!” I decided to jest at this uncanny intersection of Meat and Fruit.

Thoughts of slicing him up then and there and putting him on my pizza to close the raw deal I felt I got were quickly set aside as he turned out to be quite the intelligent yellow dude with a strange tale to tell indeed. Settling back on the couch he eventually wandered over to, it began thusly:

“I had to divide off from the rest of your meal in order to gain a mouth, eyes, brain. The house special was just a ruse to get you to order me, here, now. We know that you are poor, perhaps abjectly so.”

“Banana… split?” I said, still not quite over the slicing inclination at this point and eyeing the case of knives on the counter out of the corner of my eye.

“Precisely. I know you think we’re just bananas, me and all my associates, but when we bunch together we become larger than ourselves individually. I am the end product of that transmutation.”

“Just… bananas?” I uttered in a similar vein, stuck in idiom mode. I imagined them altogether in a darkened room conspiring to drive me nuts in the end. I had to avoid that conclusion. I edge closer to the counter, clandestinely select the largest one to get the deed done quickly.

“We hope to make you think otherwise,” and it is here he introduced himself properly and it is here I decided not to end his life with a cut cut cut.

“I am more than Banana now, the sum of my parts,” he declared proudly, sitting up straighter on the couch in front of me and even seeming to grow larger with the action but maybe that was just my perspective. “I am *Band*ana, a whole band of entities.”

“Like the borough?” I say. “Like the borough we’re in?” I followed, waving all around with my free hand.

“Precisely.” I put back down the knife behind my back. Being in a borough band myself right now, I had to hear this out. tbc

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0512, Bandanaboro, Omega

00510511

It was the end of us, I knew. End of the band; start of an 8-5 or 9-5 job under a boss who cared not one lick about music or its benefits to society. Creativity *murdered*. 666. How to avoid?

—–

“That’s really beautiful, Frank. Spongeberg #5, you say?”

“Fresh off the printer and into our home. Middle C middle C middle C,” he chants, a thing that got him through the ultra-complex piece. He had to remember that the composer had a plan, an endpoint. Wasn’t writing down notes by the seat of his pants. I heard recently that creativity without outline is just noise. Planners not Panters, at least for the chromagraphs. Spongeberg had the process down.

Everyone seemed to be enjoying it! Wall to wall fun for the 12, 13, 14 people who attended (pheh).

—–

The manager shows up with his wad of empty Money, choice looming. Keep living day to day, meal to meal, bill to unpaid bill, or escape the threat of abject poverty and enjoy the benefits of health insurance, college ed for the kids, so on. He hands me his card (see top).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0051, 0511, Bandanaboro, Omega