Category Archives: Xilted

00420612

It took a supreme effort for him to break away from the Big E or, alternately Big Schwa always sitting in the middle of his Aisle of Palms’ Kidd Tower dining table, ready for further examination and scrutiny. But he did it; returned to his hometown and his Bach/Reger/Kajiura played on a silver cello purchased in the Isle of Love. He played to his loving doll Mob (pronounced: Mobe), who listened with rapt attention as usual.

Good ol’ Mob. He misses her when he’s away… plus the cats big and small of course. And he just f-ing needed to get away from the band for a while. No Lag was pushing them in a classical direction, Shelley was pushing them in a rock direction, Don just wanted everyone to call hogs like him, like the kid he is. Be like me! he indicated all the time with his actions and speech. But bar manager Martha Lamb wanted him there as a kind of front man and bar owner Bull Dragon (or Dragon Bull; *not* Ball Dragon or Dragon Ball, though) went along with it, seeing the appreciative crowds. Maybe they’re getting *too* big, too popular, thought Okama not once but a considerable number of times in the last week as they did nightly gigs to growing audiences. Poor opening act Marsha “Pink” Krakow who wanted to be a Ball herself wasn’t hacking it, though. He felt sorry for her, was *envious* of her even. Furniture comedy, he speculated at the time, watching her perform only for the ogling Thompson Twins if anyone at all. Like Satie had his furniture music. “Pay no attention to us musicians,” the eclectic Frenchman spoke to audiences of his day, over 100 years ago, so far ahead of his time. He said to just enjoy the pieces of the art gallery they were playing at, and so on. And so it is with Marsha but in a kind of reverse way. “Just enjoy the musicians on the stage over there; pay no attention to me,” she seems to broadcast lately. A conceptual art comedy piece in the style of Kaufman or maybe Hicks. But certainly not like iconic 50s star Lucille Ball as she originally desired, one of the greatest of all female performers period. This was undesired art but maybe she’s seeing the irony of it. He’ll have another word with her about the whole, er, *concept* when he gets back. But he needs to stay here for at least a week to calm his nerves. He needs to stay away from the Kidd (Tower) and he needs to stay away from the kid (Don).

Knocks downstairs. Wendy has arrived at her destination. Confrontation time; brace yourself Okama!

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0042, 0612, Big Woods, Jeogeot, Kangerootown, Omega^^, Xilted

00420611 (“dozen”)

I’d just reached the chapter about Flying when the call came in (again). Brrng brngg, went the imaginary phone on the pretend desk downstairs, distracting me.

7 times. 8. “Will someone get that gall blasted phone!” I shouted through the floor at apparently no one. Who’s here with me? Shakespeare?

11; 12. “Will someone *please* WAKE UP down there and get that phone!!”

—–

Someone woke up downstairs, sauntered over, bedroom slippers lazily sliding over the marble checkerboard floor. The receiver of the phone is picked up, the ringing stops. Someone says “hallo?” into it at the same time Baker Bloch upstairs yells “Thaank — yoou!!”.

Mention of Antarctica from the other end. Both Antarctica and the Arctic actually, both poles. It was as if the voice slid down one and then up the other, back to his cozy fire to finish his book. At least that’s what Baker Bloch was imagining upstairs as he started chapter 13 for real.

—–

Evening comes to the hotel in Shamon and Baker has finished his book. No calls downstairs since the pole one, leaving him in peace instead of pieces. Poor Baker Bloch. But he remembers how to fly now. Spaced Ghost.

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00420610 (fire and nut (2 crackers))

He began doing some independent research on the subject, starting with Orgamast which led him here. “My you’re a tall one,” he said to his companion also staring out at the Korean Channel sim. “Why I barely come up to your Tropic of Cancer, hmm. Are you that tall so you can see the sim of Orgamast to our west better? Do you know of Big Schwa/Big E? Are you big because of *it*?” He halted this fantasy line of inquiry, knew he was, of course, talking to a dummy, a manikin all the time. Not real; not even an NPC really.

But boy was he happy about his view. Reminded him of his ex, the only woman who could have it multiple times that he knew about or was involved with. Eve was her name I believe. Unless it was Wilma — no, not Wilma. Jenny? Argent? Tina? Argent Tina, yes, silver like the moon and just as slippery. Barely remembered her name.

“Argent?” Okama Majo pronounced clearly below him to make sure he heard correctly. “Tina?”

“That’s right,” spoke the dummy who actually couldn’t do so.

“Hmm.” With his more limited range, Okama stared at the round, green hills before him and then beyond toward the sea, the channel itself. He decided to get a better view from that watchtower just outside the window, leave the stiff behind.

There. That’s better. But What The?

An invisible typewriter?

He finds the correct fingering through the highlighting red after inserting an imaginary piece of paper and begins to type a story about Argent Tina and how they did it, extending his draw distance between paragraphs so he could look at the intermittently erupting Ichelus Volcano visible to the northwest. Inspiration!

But he wasn’t the only one doing so, it appears. Argent Tina herself, perhaps? Is that why the dummy is smiling? “She’s right *there*, in the fire, like the firecracker she is,” he might say to a tippy-toed Okama if the researching psychedelic artist hadn’t left his side so quickly. “Just ask. You don’t have to make up *anything*, he he.”

Ah yes. He remembers how they did it. Ray Davies style. If only the current Mrs. Dummy would see eye to eye with him on this as well. Oh well. There’s always memories.

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00420512

Pitch Darkly and especially (of course!) born fisherperson Mary Ball Darkly were so successful on their extended angling vacation that they had to rent a truck to bring the caught loot back home to Aisle of Palms. “Hope you brought your appetite back with you too,” issues Mary while staring at the smelly crates piled 3 high in its bed, knowing they had limited space in the manor’s freezers.

Now to get down to serious issues once more: the Ball situation. They were four weeks late getting back as it was. Too much fun! Couldn’t let it end despite the potential cost. It’s all virtual reality anyway, said Pitch to Mary after their huge haul at Fox Island (alternately Squirrel Island) in Endlessly Antipodal. So it was on to the Amazon Basin and piranhas/electric eels after that to finally get the cold of Walsh County ND out of their bones and blood, and then All Orange to finish up, a virtual fisherperson’s paradise as indicated by Mary’s knowledgeable friend Sandy Beech way way back in the days. Just got around to getting there. Sandy’s never wrong about these things, she knew. Best fry cook in the whole of Great Belt where he comes from, she’s heard from not one but several sources.

“Are you sure this is right, Mary? Fish in a *volcano*?”

“Emm, maybe I got the wrong color in that name. All Green?” she tested, burning through yet another line. “Brown?”

“Let’s go, Mary. Well have to rent a truck to get back our vast haul as is. We have enough.”

“Alright.”

“Plus the Ball situation; Baker wanted us back there a month ago.”

“I know I know.” Mary starts packing up the tackle…

… just in the nick of time as it turns out. *Great balls of fire* that was close to where they were standing! And more on the way. Get off that erupting mountain quick guys!

But, as we know, they got home okay, phew. Mary wasted no time in placing a call to so-called expert Sandy Beech.

“All *Blue*,” he erupted back when hearing the color she chose to remember in their by now long ago conversation about the place. “There’s no fish in a volcano!”

But, savant that she is, Mary still caught a couple.

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00420410

Miraculously, we have somehow reached the end of LSD Dream Emulator — day 365 — and its final cutscene video. A translucent, black and white Linen appears in front of a volcano and starts jiggling and vibrating (oscillating) as a red ball goes round and round…

… until the thing explodes.

Then the letter “I” forms over the top of the erupted mountain to emphasize that the Korean Channel is once again involved.

Because this is the I sim of Ichelus, also with an active volcano. Catty-corner to Orgamast, which we’ve already talked about. Can’t be chance in my opinion. End of LSD. Climax of thing.


Korean Channel with catty-corner Ichelus and Orgamast


Ichelus on the Big E

The clincher is here for me.

https://daily.redbullmusicacademy.com/2017/11/osamu-sato-interview

… the first thing I made when I decided to do a personal project was Alphabetical Orgasm, in which I designed an entire alphabet from A to Z, I created a series of images and then held a solo exhibition. Various parts of the media picked up on the project, and I did some more shows, so I found myself busy again, but the main thing for me was that I found my color. The biggest influence there goes back to the mixing of colors, the colors of Kyoto, that I learned while studying with the kimono designer that I spoke of before, as well as that techno feel, Constructivism and images are put together. All of that swirled together into Alphabet to produce something new and great in my mind. You can see it all on my homepage.

1998’s LSD Dream Emulator is a macrocosm of 1991’s Alphabetical Orgasm.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0042, 0410, Jeogeot, LSD, Xilted

00420409 (from the old blog)

To introduce: All 7 sims beginning with YEO in Our Second Lyfe are found on the Jeogeot continent. So let’s start the quote…

https://bakerblinker.wordpress.com/2010/01/09/chilbo-needs-korean-channel-needs-sunklands-needs-chilbo-reinforced/

The highest and lowest of the YEO sims are directly north and south of each other. This would be Yeolmae (north) and Yeongheungdo (south). Yeolmae almost touches northern coast of Jeogeot, just missing by less than 100 meters. Yeongheungdo *just* touches the southern coast of same, with its southeast corner barely extending into the ocean a couple of meters total.

On the below map [see former post], positions of these two north-south YEO sims are marked by an A scrabble tile (Yeolmae) and Z scrabble tile (Yeongheungdo). In-between we are able to exactly position the remaining 24 letter tiles of the English alphabet in order, since the two sims in question lie exactly 26 sims apart. In other words, 1 scrabble tile here fills the same space as 1 SL sim. To me, this relationship is meaningful, and equates the whole of Jeogeot (remember these two YEO sims basically mark the exact height of the continent along this vertical line) with our alphabet….

So finding this Jeogeot-alphabet relationship, I started playing around with inserting tiles in other places around the continent. My first thoughts were that perhaps the 5 remaining YEO sims (of 7 total) represent the 5 letters that only have 1 scrabble tile assigned to them due to their relative lack of use in writing in comparison with the others (j, k, q, x, and z). However, in experimenting further I fairly soon discovered what must be the most interesting additional relationship: the fact that the names of the 30 sims of the Korean Channel begin with all but *4* of the alphabet letters, these being c, t, v, and y. If we subtract the two sims lying outside the main 14×2 column making up this channel — the very similarly named Darcy’s Cove and Darcy’s Harbor — the weirdness is even tightened a bit more, since the same 22 letters appear out of *28* chances now.

I’ve simply listed out these 28 sims in alphabetic order at the end of this post to further illustrate the oddity [see former post again]….

And so we’re caught up a bit with the back story. To the present once more…

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00420408

“Oh no! Look out Linen!”

“Behind you!”

They gave Okama Majo a cheap high-rise apartment in town so that he could rehearsed with his new band easier. Name still pending. Don wants to call it “Sueeey!” — totally predictable, still being a kid at heart and mind and all and not thinking of others that much while living in his own self-centric universe. Classically trained guitarist No Lag V is leaning toward “Gas Solid Liquid Plasma,”, with her as Gas and, as she said, the others will figure out their own state of matter over time. And then Shelly inserted her own name into the discussion: “The Dream Emulators”. Okama? Let’s actually give Okama “The Dream Emulators” suggestion and leave Shelley’s for later. Currently she’s off in her own dream world over on the western part of the Jeogeot continent, spending time with imaginary boyfriend Eddy D’Aigle instead of hubby Arthur, who may be out of town himself acting again. Shakespeare never sleeps.

He knew he shouldn’t do it but Okama is searching old tenant Mr. Babyface’s Internet history for clues about his nature. What led him to take that small boat so close to that Korean Channel funnel, obviously marked on the map, and get sucked in, never, it seems, to return to the land of the living? Soon — too soon probably — he comes across Babyface’s theories about an alphabet hidden in a column of sims on the eastern side of the continent, the opposite part from where Shelley currently is; she’s just that off-base. Okama is the one we should stay with…

—–

“Orgamast?!” he shouted, spotting the name of the “O” sim in the Korean Channel and realizing it was so close to Orgasm (‘nother one!). Let’s back up…

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00420202

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.

*Wait*.

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00410302

She put away the guitars and got serious. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she practiced, not having an audience yet. It was only 5 in the afternoon and her gig wasn’t until 8. She’d have to eat first of course; make it a past participle before the actual playing began. At the same time, the audience should begin dining on sole food, that particular fish being the catch of the day here in Portuguese Hill village formerly of Illinois, US of A. Where they found *her*. “Ladies and gentleman, simmer down,” she continued imaging the applause coming her way after the song “Rockaway Beach,” a crowd favorite as usual. “I have an announcement to make.”

—–

“Your painting looks very pretty over there, dearest. I see you haven’t used any green yet. That’s good. Stay away from green. And oil. Stick to watercolors.”

“Of course my dear. Those times are in the past.” She apparently couldn’t see the bit of green he used in the couple of village trees from this distance — good. This made him think of Mr Babyface, his old flame. Lost at sea in a craft of too small design. At least he went doing what he loved. Sucked up by a rare water funnel in that area, they said. Glug glug glug, he imagined. Glug glug glug — GONE. The boat was later thrown up on the shore of Kenfield but the short man with the large face was no longer with it, fishing off the port side, fishing off the starboard side, fishing off the bow, the stern. He loved fishing in all its positions. He’d eat his sole later on in honor of him, he decided.

“Did you like my speech at the end? Too serious?”

Yeah, past and also present lover Greg Ogden had reservations about all that. “Don’t you, I mean, what if a member of the Portuguese navy is part of your audience? Gets back to headquarters, say. You could be in trouble (!).”

“I said what I had to say, though. Atlantis is rising in that part of the Azores. All the locals know it, the *government* knows it. They just want to cover it up, the hierarchy. The locals won’t stand up to them either, at least publicly. *Someone* has to take a stance. Might as well be me. I have a platform.” She briefly indicated the stage behind her. The former cover band cover girl now striking out on her own with strikingly original compositions popping forth right and left, backwards and forward. The announcement fits right in with all that, he realized. Unique, he summarized it in a word. Like a perfectly square pyramid perfectly aligned with the 4 cardinal directions, waiting to be revealed in all its past and also present glory.

“*And* — I think we should announce the news of our re-engagement if you don’t mind; make that public as well. Hand in hand.” She takes his hand from beneath the table, holds it tight. The double announcement was a go.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0041, 0302, Hana Lei^^, Illinois, Jeogeot, Middleton^, Xilted

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, 0039, 0206, Constantynople, Heterocera, Jeogeot, Nautilus, Rank & File, Rubi^, VHC City^, Xilted