Tag Archives: Baker Blinker^^++++@

June 27, 2025 · 2:24 pm

00470303 (6666 posts, 666 pages — coincidence?)

“And so that’s how it all started, this story of FILE derived from TILE,” observing Nauty declared in his wise guy way. “We simply had to move Firey from 4th to 1st in this bottom group of 4 to spell out the word F-I-L-E with the first letters of their reordered names. F stands in for T because these are the 2 straight letters of the alphabet which can contain 7 sub-letters per the TILE game structure. The BFDI object-character colors here also match the 4 of TILE in red green blue yellow of course, although the individual letter to color correspondences are different from the game board. I could go on and on, but I’ll ask you the burning question that now presents itself up front and center alongside or even on top of repositioned Firey: What happened to the Dream Island all these characters were so fiercely battling over, often to their deaths? We know the answer to that too, given it presents itself as a constant in *our* world.”

“Constance,” I say to this, citing the name of the FILE sim that is also the name of the island in question.

“Correct,” he wheezes. “We should return but I’m not sure that’s possible given all else that’s happened in the meantime.” Since the demise of my attempted urban center there I dubbed Constantynople, I understood. Back toward the end of photo-novel 39 I believe. Checking….. checking….. Yes. 39. The island seems to have changed little in the intervening 2 or so years, indeed an aberration for such a large group of separately owned properties in the ever changing world that is Our Second Lyfe. It truly appears to represents some sort of sticky outie constant.


pin filled map of Constance Island with my former Constantynople at the top

“But we still have, let’s see, the rest of FILE,” I said, “the other 30 sims in this column that Constance more or less centers. Minus the hacked off 1 at the top.”


Constance Island in the middle of the 32>31 Nautilus continent “FILE” (purple column)

“Exactly centers including the hacked off 1 at the top,” furthers Nauty, knowing his continent better than me, since it is the same as his body in essence, pins stuck just there there there there, and so on and so forth. Constance is just a start. But also an end. “(The sim of) Ten Pages is 10 up from the bottom,” he continues with his FILE knowledge, “indicating that the 32 minus 1 (the top sim was wacked off in the retirement process), taken as a whole, are pages of a book, perhaps a chapter, perhaps more.”

“A section,” I say. But then I knew it had to be 2 if so.

“The… doorstep to the Temple of TILE was positioned right smack in the center of the 32 sim FILE,” he pinpoints while wheezing out.

Suddenly I knew what had to be done.

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June 3, 2025 · 8:56 am

00470114 (bulletproof)

“‘How can you not hear it?’ he might say to me in frustration. ‘Are you *deaf*?'”

“I say, ‘your work is an impenetrable sphere, reflections all around but not from itself.’ Here:”

“That’s a great story, baker b.,” Hucka said, looking at the mirror ball he pulled up on his monitor. “It really is. But I must buzz off elsewhere to use the old nomenclature.”

“Okay, alright. *Bye* I guess,” I say as I watch her — or him — fly away into the blue blue skies. Hucka D. the Bee showed up again after so long only to leave so quickly!

—–

“He thinks I’ve reverted to bee form, Marion. I, of course, haven’t.”

“No you *haven’t*,” expresses Marion Star Harding, taking all her womanhood in from top to bottom from his seat opposite her at the Welcome to Mimosa tavern, sign lost in the Great Wind Storm of ’02 (“The Great Blow”). No antennae even, now. “Why?” he had to ask.

“Oh, I don’t know. He’s trying so hard to understand the various creators lining up around him now, sees the parallels to them in himself; alternate paths.” I want to keep him productive, was the underlying meaning.

“You’re a fine woman,” Marion said to this. “Very fine. Now let’s walk over to the Rhino and see that comedy group again we so love.”

“You first,” she said with a sly smile.

“No, *you* this time, he he.”

“Alright.” And she got up, wondering if she had the hang of swinging her hips properly. Would this be the last vestige of her bee self and the awkward duck walk showing up? Turns out it wasn’t — she did fine. Very fine. Marion looked on in pleasure and happiness the whole 3 blocks over.

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June 3, 2025 · 6:47 am

00470113

“The 420 folder is getting too full, baker b.”

“Hucka!”

“In the exoskeleton!”

“The Atom is part of the CHRO system, which is pronounced like Crow,” she begins. “Someone had to exhibit at the Red Arrow for all this to surface again. And then there’s the ROCKSTAR direction — always the ROCKSTAR direction now.” She paused to wipe some pollen from her mouth. Hucka D. Was he even a she now?? “You went back to Red Row, found nada. Not even the bird-dog conjunction. Something had shifted. Something had, indeed, been removed.”

“The dog.”

“Actually the bird but we can assume that means the dog. As in, the dog was never highlighted (by the bird) in the first place. Nothing to be removed. No Spider.” She paused. “You’ll figure it out,” she reassured, a seemingly innocuous statement that surprisingly irritated me.

“Can I see you? Can I see where we are?”

“The maps rise up to meet you,” she then stated.

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March 26, 2025 · 8:41 am

00460208 (Palm(er)’s View Way…)

… as in, stuck on Palm’s View Way several seconds after this provocative introductory view of Panam(a) Palmer in the Cyberpunk 2077 game. Could be a purposeful juxtaposition in the “1 Hour of Cyberpunk 2077 Fails” video here but probably not.

And may I remind, this is the girl V(al) the 1st person protagonist of C2077 is stuck on, while adopted internal soul twin Jonny Silverhhand prefers Judy Lexi over in Kabusie. Kabusie as in derived from caboose here too, come to think of it. Both girls attached to the word.

I put the Bakers family patch back in my pocket to end the game again before it even begins and move on…

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December 17, 2024 · 4:31 pm

00450216 (end (430 (words)))

“This would have probably been Fall 2015, or maybe even back to Spring 2015. But probably Fall 2015. Or even Winter 2015, or at least before the death of Bowie in Jan. 2016. This started several things. It, in a way, started the photo-novels themselves. Bowie *came* to Our Second Life and its Collagesity for a visit on his way to other destinations. This happened right after his death. He flirted with Baker Blinker, even propositioned her to go with him to the stars and leave Collagesity. This would have, of course, null and voided her relationship with Karoz Blogger (occurring just afterwards), so crucial not only to photo-novel 01 but all the photo-novels to come. They may *not* have come, you see.”

“I see.”

“Your double played a part in this. You synchronize further over the death of Bowie and the release of his last album, ‘Black Star’. Playing it right after Bowie’s death, you were amazed at its depth, how good the music was. You’d only known Bowie through his singles before this. Thus the can was opened to explore his oeuvre in a much more thorough way, which you did over the next several years. And your double went right along with you in a way, reliving his own appreciation of the Thin White Duke. After ‘Black Star’, you then moved to ‘The Next Day’, his previous album. As you told your double, there’s not a weak song on the album, which he agreed with. You also gave him a copy of ‘Black Star’ which he didn’t have. More synchronization. You were kind of moving as one. Or at least so you thought.”

“I thought?”

“Even at the start, you were not as synchronized as you thought at the time. You were a damaged soul by then. Your double represented a light in relative darkness, someone you connected to. You, in a way, in a strong way maybe, needed him more than he needed you. He had enough friends. Maybe he had *too* many friends, too many connections. You didn’t have enough, he had too many. And he had ambitions in the library, desired to be a major player there, which finally worked out for him by the time of your retirement in 3/1/22. The date is significant. It represents a place you separate from the double, are born *away* from him and back into your own sphere. You are on your own after that, just in terms of male friends. You thought you could continue that friendship beyond the library. But a wall was built at 3/1. (Photo-novel) 31 — remember that.”

“I will.”

(to be continued)

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December 2, 2024 · 11:37 pm

00450111

“I need to have a talk with you, V. Panama’s not my type. I don’t *want* to sleep with her. I actually… have my eyes set on someone else.”

“Jonny. How long’s it been?” I say to the person inside of me, the person I’m wedded to as much as any soulmate lover. We’re not lovers. We are One. “Roller coaster?” I tried to pinpointed.

“Yeah. Roller coaster. Had a fun day back there. Thought I’d end it while we were still on top.”

“Yeah, noticed you weren’t with me after we started careening down to the bottom again on that last big hill.”

“The biggest!”

“Yeah.”

“Good times.”

“Good times, Jonny. So… are you back?”

“Define: back.”

“Welll.”

“Just kidding, kid-o.” Jonny’s affectionate nickname for me, since he’s, I don’t know, like *150*. “Take the blue pill and let’s try that scene (from the last post) again. Let me take over. I want to demonstrate my point.”

“And then you’ll take the red one,” I said, reinforcing the pact we made before. Blue on my side, red on Jonny’s side to return control back to me. He’d been proven a reliable ally on this arrangement.

“Sure, sure. Just like before, chum.” He even gently punches me on the shoulder to reinforce the partnership, the unity of cause. I don’t feel any punch of course, all this being just virtual hallucination.

“Now?”

“Now. Before the inspiration is lost.”

I had a couple of bluesies handy in my back pocket. I pull one out. “Okay. Here goes (swallow).”

—–

For a moment, she appeared in their midst, naked as a jailbird, even bringing a bit of Kabusie canal water along with her which pooled down below her feet. I thought it was a mirage at first, but then I stared at the tattoos, remembered what they said and represented to her, the roses, the firetruck, the spiderweb, that *cat*. No mirage this Lexi Alvocado was — straight out of the city and into the desert, Panama nowhere to be Scene. Tattoos like that don’t lie.

I could feel myself stirring down there. I wasn’t sure I wanted to lose control again this time. Which of course — doofus — V or Val heard, being One with me. What gives? he says way down there, but aware of the stirrings not his own, the thoughts. Okay okay, I say back in my head to the other part of myself. I’ve proven my point. Take the red pill, he pleads. Get out of there before it’s too late. But what do you think? I say back. Beautiful isn’t she. Better than Panama, eh? So go with Lexi. We’ll get along *so* much better later. Take – the red — *pill*, he insisted from within. Okay alright, I say. I had two in my back pocket as well. Wait… one. Always forget how that works. I pull it out, I swallow. Yeah, before it’s too late. The arrangement, etc. etc.

The pill begins working its magic. She acquires her regular garb to stem the stirrings, cut them off even. She was Jonny’s type, I said in my head while making my way back to the surface. But she wasn’t *my* type.

—–

Then *I*, baker b. of the Baker Family of Our Second Lyfe avatars, took over. Neither one, the Mary Anne and Ginger of Cyberpunk 2077 as we could call them, were my types. I put the patch back in my pocket to end the game before it even began.

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August 27, 2024 · 5:30 am

00440107 (Plutonians)

“I have seen many things in the forest,” she explained to me. “I have seen a giant stone hand with an eye representing the place where I came. But not where I’m going.”

“Our Second Lyfe,” I pinpointed. “Or better, *Their* Second Lyfe.”

“Forest of Kahruval at least,” she said to my observation. “This was different. This was Kerchal. A full sim chocked to the brim with pines of several different varieties. No grass, unlike the Rubi Woods found later. But not devoid of other vegetation, which is my next item on my list.”

“Go ahead, then,” I encouraged.

“So one day, after being involved in the forest for a while, I chanced upon two bushes and wondered about the old expression of not seeing them because the trees of the forest took the focus. *This* is where I’m going, I realized. Toward the bushes.”

“Um hmm,” I said, trying to adjust to this new focus as well. I saw — the overlap. Bakers’ Island. This is Baker Blinker, with Baker Bloch soon to come along as well. Bakers in the plural, then. Salvation.

“And then we have the treehouse. Where I opened the eye with the (alphabet) map. But that was within another forest. Or so I thought.

“Everything became white.”

“But this was actually after the arrival of the aliens,” I said. “They build the treehouse. In *those* woods.”

“That’s what changed after the whiteness,” admitted Wendy who was playing the role of Baker Blinker currently. Or maybe it was visa versa — another reversal. “The aliens came first. Two bushes; two ships. Not one.

“The other (find) was a made up reality. *I’m* made up.”

“Because you’re actually Wendy. Not Baker Blinker,” I said. The alien she described before, a big white cup with a pink straw that took control, was obviously her, probably arrived from the future — say, 8 1/2 years later. Not a true alien, at least in her mind. But I knew better. Because of the pink.

“Like I said, there were two of them. Not one. They *built* the treehouse. Everything was backwards from what I remembered. The treehouse came last not first,” she reinforced. “They *built* it,” she couldn’t help but say again.

So should I tell her that both realities are true? Too soon?

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August 9, 2024 · 6:30 am

00430610

“So as you can see very clearly in the next photo, Ring Lady’s, let’s see, *right* eye begins to form in the middle of the upper central guy’s forehead, obviously scrubbed clean by Kubrick to emphasize this very transition. I’m amazed more Shining researchers haven’t found it.”

“And now we think this woman is a Ryder?” Wheeler to his right tries to clarify in her own head. “As in Winona?”

“Correct,” answers Baker Bloch, the male Baker at the head of the Table, head visible only from the hat up in this angle. The female Baker (Blinker) couldn’t make it — head cold. But Newt was here to his left if with no visible head. And so was huge, green headed Grassy sitting across from Baker. He’d just finished his talk about Kabusi in the Cyberpunk 2077 game platform, and how it leads to Soos. Leading to this.

“Do you think *Winona* knows about this? Perhaps through Rolling Stone?”

“Maybe,” says Baker to Wheeler. “She’s a bright little girl.”

“So the woman, this ring woman, in the Shining’s ending photograph… is…”

“Ryder, yes. The same.”

And clearly with the ring that becomes Jack’s left eye, she noted in the 3rd photo Baker shared for further explanation. Glowing as if radioactive. And apparently it was. Uranium for Uranus.

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July 29, 2024 · 6:45 am

00430602 (shining)

Baker Bloch stares at Ring Lady in Falmouth collage 07 and decides he must call a town meeting before things progress further. He *rings* up Wheeler, she rings up Hucka who still isn’t really talking to the male Baker. He rings up Newt which is kind of himself — in the same room. He rings up Baker Blinker his original female counterpart and still is in ways. And last: Grassy, representative of all things toys. How exciting to be getting the cores back together, chatting with each other again.

“Status report, Wheeler,” he requests to his right from his seat of power at the Blue Feather Table. “How’s daughter Shelley doing over in Heterocera?”

“Hooktip, right,” Wheeler clarifies. “Well, she’s going back her roots. And, no, before you say it it’s not brunette.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” says Baker Bloch, serious for tonight’s meeting. Tonight’s important important meeting. Because all of Collagesity Aisle of Palms is at stake.

“Newt. To my left. Hi, first.”

“Hi.”

“We haven’t talked in a while.”

“Since Friday.”

“A year ago, yes.”

“Approximately.”

“How’s *your* daughter doing? Jennifer isn’t it?”

“Shelley,” answers Newt the same as Wheeler. For it is their child. We went over that in novels 34 and also 35. And some in 36-39 as well. Before the Big Change in 40. When Newt points this out, talk shifts to this change.

“40 is where I started reading Dolores Cannon and her Convoluted Universe series,” begins Baker on this new theme. “40 is where, through (the conduit of) Bellissaria, things started to head offworld. And then Aisle of Palms was founded (in 41). Current base; for 1/2 year now. About the last time we talked, Newt.”

“Approximately,” he said again. But what’s time in a town like this?

“So this brings us to the question: What if we just head offworld *permanently*? Exist in Youtube videos about Grand Theft Auto, Red Dead Redemption, and Cyberpunk 2077? Before getting a better computer and purchasing all those games and being able to walk inside them with an actual avatar, mind you. That could take another year. Years. Newt, we may not be talking with each other again until after that decision is made.”

“Fine,” he answered, knowing it didn’t matter in the long run. Baker was him and he was Baker. *All* were Baker. Besides Wheeler, besides Hucka, besides Baker Blinker, Grassy and some other cores. But mainly Wheeler. She was the new female to Baker’s male, the queen to his prime minister (of Aisle of Palms). He holds the power but she holds the jewels. They must be a balance. Newt doesn’t really play a role in this except as an exteriorization of Baker, a way for Wheeler to have a husband and so have Shelley as her child. Married to Arthur Kill still, yes (novel 35), but flirting around with Edward Daigle (37-43). Can the horses keep moving together in the same direction?

(to be continued)

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May 14, 2024 · 3:00 pm

Seven (Dan sim)

Here I sit and think about my outstanding pinkness.

How did it come about? Well, it was *stolen*. From Baker Blinker. Way back in the day. Model 1.0 you could call it. Now I am considered to be a savior of some sort. The white horse leads, the black horse steers.

I came here…

… in a boat.

But not that one.

Maybe here I can get away from testers Fern and Lichen. Be my own body in my own person. That’s the hope.

Mama T. and calf will help me.

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