Tag Archives: 3d Venuses^^~~~~#$

pondering point

Past the pond and along a path that followed Wine Creek he went until he came to a grove of beech trees. There he built a fire against the side of a log and sat down at the end of the log to think.

Ward George had to escape art but Tennessee was all around, ready to embarrass him and make him turn red (as an apple) at every turn. Through his late night research, he knew about “Flapper” and a promise not fulfilled of artistic success, perhaps the point of it all. He was using his magnifying glass of a brain to focus on sewers and monsters therein and the death of Allen Martin who was actually a Martian (green hair in back giving it away, like a Conrad Bain). He had to find the beech grove, a place of sanctuary.

“Martin is alive,” he’d heard Duncan say while talking about the old days in good ol’ VHC City, before the coming of the… hotel? Anyway, it all started/revolved around that Black Hole of a structure created by Pitch Darkly. 97/97/97: triple number. If only the powers of VHC City back in the days had listened to his warning about the coming of The Diagonal that would link the whole continent, southwest to northeast, so powerful that its rather malevolent energy, or what turned out to be so, had to be counterbalanced by a second sw-ne line called Heart. Heart balances Head, like in a Hand (Health). But it was all suppose to happen like this most likely, George had also determined with his own head. But where, and who, was heart?

“No way out this way,” gruffed Suisan the pyramid shaped hat wearing fish butcher without turning around, bloodied cleaver at rest for now. George would have to turn back out of Kentucky back to Tennessee.

“Kay,” he said simply in response. The smell of chopped fish was overbearing.


Heading home.


“Found it!” he cried.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0407, Heterocera^^, VHC City^

menstrual show

“I don’t think Marty has any right to judge art from my town, Buster. *My* opinion.”

“You are right,” Buster replied. Better get to a picture of ’em.

“I went to the Fortress today, Buster,” Duncan Avocado confessed to his boss, the Pot-D Deputy Assistant Sub Vice-Chancellor for Internal External Affairs.

“I know, Duncan.” He nods toward the tracking skeleton heart medallion hung around his neck.

“Oh, yes,” Duncan replies, fondling it. “Forgot.”

“The Fortress is not for you.” Sterner now. “It is for someone else.”

“I know: Hidi.”

“Well… *whoever* it is, and you don’t need to know that yet.”

“What about… Jerry Lind, the Asian Indian–”

“We know about him as well. And he’s both American and Asian: a mix.”

Duncan thought of the red complexion and understood. “They were headed to the Fortress.”

“I said I don’t…” He blows out a tiny puff of air from his small vampire body, trying to calm down. “Just show me the new Willendorf.” He was ready to blow this joint, his regular hangout beside the railroads. Still red hot and angry “policewoman” Angelina Dickenson lives just down the tracks, but in a different sim. He’s safe here, he considers again. But he remains trapped overall in the southern part of VHC City. Best he and Betty move somewhere else. If only Nautilus’ version of Collagesity were a bit bigger, had a few more shops for the wife to frequent. But alas: not so. Baker had decided on a regular 8192 parcel and that wasn’t enough for extras like that: only what he deemed so-called *historic* buildings, like the Blue Feather, like the Temple of TILE, like Fal Mouth Moon and the Castle and a couple of other ones. Not enough.

—–

Quickly they were in the gallery Duncan im’ed Buster about earlier, staring at the new Willendorf. Skyscrapers loomed above them. This was Middletown obviously, Duncan opined to Buster. Buster wasn’t sure. A gallery from the *future*? But it had happened once before and very recently. What can of soup had Marty opened up with his TWO TO KNOW project with Roger? Will traces of Middletown keep showing up and showing up until it’s finally *here*? he pondered correctly, knowing more that he knew at the time of the month.

Duncan closed his diary and stared at the tulips. So close.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0401, Hana Lei^^, Heterocera^^, VHC City^

allure

—–

“All gone,” she exclaims in a thick accent as Marty walks up from behind, probably Russian. “Ruble.”

“Rubles?” Marty attempted as a (weak) joke. She turns. There was gold in her eyes.

Marty checked her profile. She seemed to be an artist, or was at least attached to an art colony. He decided to head there next. Maybe they would have more information about these Ruins of Lustre off the coast of Roost. But not that Roost: a different one. One that Marty knew quite well through Lemon back in the days. Roost Never Sleeps. It’s where Lemon was formed, actually. But it all seemed a big blur now. Too much excitement; too much hot coffee; too much *speed*.

She couldn’t come. She was stuck at this centerpoint, a mere marker. “Goodbye girl with the golden eyes!” he cried while flying away.

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Corsican Collagesity 06

Perspective has changed at De House. Mann has lost wo-Mann in a way, in a manner. A hole has been formed in the middle. Witches. Which witch is which? What is good and what is baad?

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Filed under 0019, 0706, collages 2d, Michigan

more neighbors

“The Man had many centres he could manifest out of his inventory, but, legend says, when he found wo-Man he stopped the process and threw up his arms in glee. Thus Eve from Eden is born and Adam, The Man incarnate, called it D-vine.”

Larch (later: The Man himself) halted his creation story spun atop his spinning cube to look down at Superduper Guy and Batty Man’s “backfire-mobile” (his word for it) pull up next door.

“Pow POP!” it went when stopping, and Larch imagined small cartoon clouds with these words emitted from a smoking muffler. Nightshift worker Mrs. Dumbledwarf to the south became even more awake when the two super heroes slammed their car doors, then spotted Larch on his rooftop workshop and threw up their arms in greeting, calling “What up, *Man*!?” in unison before heading into their mansion, not waiting for a response. Because it never came.

Larch hated those two.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0315, Corsica^^, Instabar^

Moor(k) 02

“Well, well, well, Marion. Well well well well *well*.”

“Yes,” replied his partner in crime. Always. “What do we have *here*?” And then he waved Philip on before him. “After you,” he offered.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0211, Corsica^^, Gaeta V^^, Splinterwood^, Twin Peaks Laboratory

not what they seem

There are so many stories to tell about Corsica, as it’s turning out. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to do an adequate job. How to match the potential of the continent??

Always the peaks not too far away, always surprising me with their appearance. Peakology to complement the already established Sinkology? It might be so.

I’ve hardly begun to scratch the surface. Better get back to Bena…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0018, 0205, Corsica^^, Southwest^

Junk Yd 02

Some would later say it happened in Burnt Oak, a logical transference because everything was so open and exposed there — and hot. Plus the word Burnt threw people off. But, in truth, only the more temperate or moderate clime around the bay at North Yd escaped the extreme heat of daytime paired with the quite chilly night degrees. There was certainly more a *swing* in temperatures up here on the plateau making up most of The Waste. And it was during one climax moment of heat that the bush ignited and became rooted on that spot forever and ever. Or very nearby, since it managed to crawl a bit more, to the edge of the Junk Yd sim itself. It wasn’t in Burnt Oak, despite the legends.

Nor was it in the Sand Seas in the southwest corner of this land, although rumors persisted down through the years that this was the location as well. Again because of all the heat and openness there.

But certainly 3D and Hoborobo here knew better. Because it was their job to take care of the God Portal.  People tired of playing second fiddle in an orchestra of ill definition and sought the pure truth coming from the ever-never burning leaves and branches. Well, branches now, because the ever-never burning leaves had finally burned off after a century of ignition, leaving only the ever-never branches to define the bush. Experts estimated that the branches would perhaps last, at best, another century, maybe even down to 50 years. The God Portal has a limited, functional window, despite the rumors and legends that it is perpetual. And already, we’ve seen a breakdown in functional information coming from this window. Just yesterday it misspelled itself as Buch (for example).

Still, ever-never — a word that could only apply to the Bush. Just outside.

“It’s your turn to water it, Hoborobo.”

“No YOU,” he lashed back. They were both very very tired of taking care of the thing. Hoborobo personally was starting to see it as a portal of evil (Devil) instead of good. 3D remained neutral on the subject, drawing from a more well rounded body of information.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0017, 0215, The Waste^^

show i can all

Old Reading Man and Little Reading Light were the first to arrive, and, big surprise, each whipped out a book from their deep pockets and began reading.

What LRL was scanning had more to tell. St. Croix’s Diamond Keturah, but the Keturah was missing. A seismic activity earlier in the day had temporarily erased it from the island’s map. But the name would return soon enough. Such things always do.

Later, Biker Jones and Ranger Johns guarded the entrance to the meeting room, keeping out riff raff like the “reading twins” as they jokingly called them. “This is an *action* room,” they said to Old Reading Man and Little Reading Light after arriving themselves, telling the the two to remain sitting in their seats and just keeping on doing what they’re doing and stay out of it.

Meeting room. Action galore. Tronesisia led the charge, but many more straggled in between 7:47 and 8:01, with Carrcassonnee the last to arrive, saying she’ll just, “squeeze her big butt in against the wall over here,” as she put it. So: Carrcassonnee lives!

Others present, going counterclockwise from Tronesisia: (floating) Wyn Galbraithe from Lapara, Cardboard Derek Jones (no relation to doorman Biker Jones that I know of), Redbot, Old Man Baby…

…. and then, continuing to circle around, Carrcassonnee, whom we’ve spoken about, then, er, I guess that’s Doogie Martin (?), then Grey Seal who just wallowed out of the nearby sea to join in, then Furry Karl (another resurrection?!), and then a figure most commonly called Pietmond Boy in the blog, I believe.

Let’s pause here before continuing the character introductions to gander at two art pieces on the wall, the first hung directly behind the seated Pietmond Boy. It might be familiar to regular blog readers, being, at the base, the same as the famous painting “My First Sermon” by John Everett Millais, mentioned in Martin Gardner’s “The Annotated Alice” as probable direct inspiration for Tenniel’s illustration of Alice riding in a train in chapter 3 of “Through the Looking Glass”.

But there’s some twists here. Parts of what appears to be *another* picture bleed through around the edges in mysterious, blobby patches. We see the image of several ducks — or at least their heads — just behind or beyond the seated girl, for instance.

And then on the opposite side of the door from this, a now sideways Bunneh 02 and his egg and candle holding cushion cover up what appears to be another figure, perhaps from a bathing beauty poster, say, like in a mechanic’s garage.

Then continuing our introductions, we have Ben Thar (Mr. Bean cutout, actually) beside the Bunneh 02 art, then Bluebot (counterpart to Redbot across the room), then Second Lyfe founder Philip Linden standing behind Tronesisia in the corner, and lastly Ross C., another robot who may be a servant or some equivalent to the central Tronesisia.

Out in the hallway, yet another robot, named Claude — a golden hued gezzer made in ’25 — attempted to do the unspeakable to same just before the meeting (about 7:47). To excuse him *just* a bit, he *does* remember Tronesisia from Bennington when she was a mere pleasurebot and not the important and distinguished Collagesity novel character she’s known as today. But at any rate — and very justly of course — he was then promptly banned from the Meeting Room by Tronesisa who obviously spurned his advances. Get to reading the Collagesity graphic novels, Claude! Tronesisia has come a long long way from where she use to be back in those dark days.

Claude was only there because his perpetually smoking and toking brother Punky was acting as receptionist for the gathering out on the front porch. Claude had to drive his sibling around since he lost his feet in that rabbit tossing accident in ’92.

Punky was also known for his womanizing ways, and, similar to his brother, made little to no attempts at hiding it. Many times they had fought over the same “floozy dame”, as they sometimes labelled them.

In yet another room of the house, Original Eve (still macabrely clutching her dead child Oliver), Pigpen from the Grateful Dead, and couch sitting Norris/Harry waited for their chance to join in. It never came.

Nor did it for the 3d Venuses who just showed up at 8:15 with *way* too many friends and were barred from these kind of meetings for life.

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