Tag Archives: Baker Blinker^^+++@

what we know so far…

It’s called Soos Mountain Community, north central part of the Jeogeot mainland continent, Our Second Lyfe. Somoco for short.

Two ground galleries exist there for my collages: the Boos Gallery (or, now, “Boos in Soos” I suppose, ha) and, next door, the Red Umbrella. Details of each can be found on the collage page of this site.

https://bakerbloch.com/collages/

I’ve decided not to call this village Collagesity again because I don’t have the majority of my collages displayed there, unlike a true, classic version a la a Rubi (Heterocera) or a Fordham (Nautilus) location. Lacking are Falmouth, Gilatona-Lis, and Art 10×10 collage series, over 200 collages in total. Also I’m having challenges fitting in newer, post-Boos collages into a proper virtual gallery, all lumped together for now and labeled Bogota (2016-present). Unlike other series, Bogota works tend to act as supplements to the photo-novels instead of linking with each other inside independent series (or sub-series), although I’ve decided to divide them into such anyway, or make a stab at it. Since photo-novel 01, “Collagesity Winter 2015-2016”, the tone and intensity of the collages have shifted. I’m still exploring what this means long term: the progression of the novels, almost 36 in number now (!), doesn’t seem to be slowing down much at all. *It* is the new center moving forward, not collages, although this situation could change/revert. I’m also eyeing a return to audiovisual synchronicities in the future, another kind of collage revival. We’ll see.

Anyway, back to the name, Soos Mtn. is the dominant natural feature of the community so there’s that as well.

Who lives there? A chance that Karoz Blogger and his lovely wife and blog co-owner Baker Blinker will, although that’s a bit up in the air. I’m eyeing the Julia House strategically placed along the community’s only cascade/waterfall for a residence, something that was set up in Collagesity Fordham for that same purpose but not really fulfilled. Perhaps Karoz can regain the N there he lost somewhere along the way, turning it or transforming it into a Julian House, droop no more. Unlikely but still a probability.

Martian Mabel could return. Her old Scarlet Creative Sylvia House she loved so much has been rerezzed. Her crush on blog co-owner Baker Bloch could be revisited, her *Gravity Falls* origins reexamined, hmm.

https://bakerbloch.com/2017/01/24/47950/

Entrepreneur and noted art thief Herbert Gold and his accomplice-wife Lovey (April Mae Flowers) are quite likely to return. Their very interesting and unique Gothic-Deco House is all set up and ready to move back into, positioned below the Julia House and the falls we mentioned before. To review, they stole the collage “Humanvillians” from the Falmouth Gallery in 2019 and got in a lot of trouble because of it. They want to fully redeem themselves in the eyes of others.

Baker Blinker’s old Gloomy Gus residence is also back (directly above the Scarlet Creative Sylvian House). Wheeler’s place?

The Hole in the Wall bar has returned, present in every version of Collagesity down through the years as I recall.

The Red Door Church sits on the northern slope of the mountain. Seems to be a revival of the Ood religion going on within, what with the return of the clown sacrificial alter. Not sure about its opposite religion Fries with Cheese actually run by clowns; no presence yet in the community. Have they all been eradicated?

Then we have the 2 pillars of the community in the Blue Feather on the western side, in the lowest part of the land, and then the Soos Castle perched on the very top of the mount. We’ll examine those in more detail in a post coming up.


top to bottom: Soos Castle, Red Door Church, Falls Shack, Julia House, Gothic-Deco House


left to right: Gothic-Deco House, Gloomy Gus, Scarlet Creative Sylvia House, ML Gazebo 138, Hole in the Wall, Blue Feather


Boos and Red Umbrella collage galleries

(to be continued)

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more of Yellowmoon and the Ephant peninsula (while I’m here)…

The Ember Botanical Institute where Barry DeBoy met with Andy Warhole, Ant, and Harrison Jett back in photo-novel 21 to talk about art and some other stuff is still there. Strangely I find myself banned from the property. Description reads: “… dedicated to corvid murder survival training, Rothko appreciation, neuroaugmentation, and antifascist remote viewing.” Seems I’ll never find out more of the story of the place now.

And, moving to the western edge of the same ridge — in Motocyclone this time — Ant’s castle (Ant Castle) is still around, apparently, greatly enlarged and painted black now, like himself. Could be more stories awaiting us here…

Barry’s old art studio just down the hill from it remains intact as well, hmmm.

Wheeler could go back to the EB Institute if not me; same for Bracket. Heck, same for Hucka Doobie the Bee, Baker Blinker, etc. — any of the core avatars except myself, Baker Bloch.

And then there’s that interesting seaside Japanese town centered in Mortons Gully below the Motocyclone peak where we’ve already seen several blog characters (Golden Jim, Marty, The Mann, maybe others) milling about in.

Closest Oracle match for that here:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mortons_Gap,_Kentucky

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new bird

“You need perfection. You reach perfection. You pass perfection on the other side. Of course Wheeler Wilson was going to defeat (and assimilate) the new Tina Turner.”

“Tina Louise I believe,” said the fainter voice from the side, another Observer. “Like Mary Ann except beautifuller.”

“All-American still?” the first questioned the second. “Ρùℜ℘Îē?”

“That’s the key,” said the second.

“Heart of the matter,” reworded the first.

Resurrected Arthur Kill had finished retrieving the “Spider” from Tennessee but he was around for good thanks to the mop, with its silliness reinforcing its power. So they — Wheeler and he — decided to form a band, creating an alternate reality where “America the Beautiful” replaced the “Star Spangled Banner” as our country’s great national anthem. First gig: Towerboro or thereabouts, playing to an audience half blue half red. Now to split the two right down the middle, form a third. Wheeler kept wearing purple.

Wheeler kept wearing purple.

Wheeler kept wearing purple.

It worked. St. Francis Scott, the key, was hatched at the beginning of the 5th.


dramatization

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honest?

Where *are* they, Baker Blinker thinks from her position across the stream from the cemetery. Oh well. Guess I can use this opportunity to go to Sugar’s Shack, perhaps meet with others there and gather their stories for future posts. Let’s see, Lucy is gone and Zapppa is gone — *that’s* why he isn’t at the cemetery. He’s already dug up Franklin, he’s already found no body or nobody in the grave. Keep up, Baker Blinker! But there’s others around still. Vanessa and Tatiana or Tiana as she likes to shorten it. But that’s just more ouroboros again. Sugar’s at the center with Donald still (different from the Donald up in Towerboro). Venus, Mistress and Bluebird remain around, I’m sure. Ben and Benny: *yes*. That’s probably who I should be talking to, either or both together as one. Sugar’s Shack? Why not.

But Baker Blinker soon discovered that Sugar’s Shack was no longer at its former location in the center of Big Woods. Just like that, everything has shifted and thought-to-be established characters whisked away back into nothingness. Wheeler and Zapppa chose the right direction tonight, leaving the female Baker in an inferior position again. Dangit, she thinks, standing in the dewy wet grass before the new ruins. *Just* getting use to being the director again. *Wheeler*. She actually spat here, but only sitting Lincoln over there underneath the similarly new windmill acted as witness to this. He promises not to tell.

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00340215

‘There (!). At the corner of the cemetery. Just like you predicted.”

“Just like I *directed*,” corrected Baker Blinker. Back in the saddle as I said, mysterious incapacitating illness over. Zapppa it was, but with an extra p. We’ve seen him before.

He turns. They’ve seen him and that’s all he wanted. Now to find that grave which told him everything, how it begins, how it ends, all the stuff in the middle.

There were quite a few to examine…

… not even counting the 3 tombs marked Henderson, Williams, Bennett. Those don’t sound right to him, though.

But *this* could be it.

He starts digging.

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manor

“My turn next on the typewriter. I have ideas too.”

“Of course (type type type pause type type pause type type type type bell sound/carriage return).”

“I’ll just keep filing my nails till you’re finished (type type type).” Mistress was patient. But she also didn’t have all night. Or did she?

“Did (type type type) you realize that Mistress is very close to Mattress?”

“I sat on it all night,” Mistress returned matter of factly. “Waiting on Bluebird, the sad sad girl.” One hand done. Perfection. “Very close indeed I was at the time,” she said while admiring her work.

“No no (type type). I mean the word.” Venus didn’t realize Mistress was trying to tell a joke. Maybe she should have thought of a better one. “Switch out the a with the i, switch the s with a t: the same, then.”

“Oh. Suppose (type type type). Is that what you’re writing? I’ve focused so much on my nails now that I can’t see that far. Tell me what the newest is for Bluebird, for Sugar Town, for the rest of the Big Woods.”

“New name, yes. Big Woods (bell sound/carriage return).” Venus lifts her hands from the keys, leans back.

“Funny how it’s not really that big,” interjects Mistress. “But it seems *huge* on the ground.”

“Labyrinthine,” reinforces Venus. “Just like, erm…”

“Baker?”

“Wheeler I think.”

Pause. “Are we saying who we are now?” asks Mistress, serious this time. Totally serial.

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White Tree Village

—–

“She comes and sits by this stream every day on those rocks over there, the dreamer. Should we reveal ourselves?”

“Not yet,” directs Baker Blinker, back in the saddle after a day of rest.

“How’re you feeling, by the way?”

“Better.”

“Good to lay off the sugar every now and then anyway.”

“I suppose.” She coughs softly. “Bit of angina still,” Baker Blinker admits.

“Oh.” Wheeler Wilson peers over at her, like it might be the last time they see each other, which is, of course, ridiculous. They have too much in the world to do. Like jointly direct and produce this theatrical extravaganza. White Tree Village. Act II, Scene 1.

“We better move on down the stream. Might be something happening at the cemetery tonight.”

“Idea,” counters Wheeler Wilson, raising her finger to make a point. “Why don’t we send Bluebird instead. Bluebird of Sadness.”

“Awww,” emits Baker Blinker with a pout at this new idea reversing the happiness one.

“We could have Venus and Mistress already there, maybe digging up graves for something.”

“Jewelry?” poses Baker Blinker. “Something incriminating?”

“They’re lesbians of course. Like Tiana and Vanessa, our stars from Act I.”

“Co-stars,” says Baker.

“But Tiana and Vanessa,” continues inspired Wheeler Wilson, “are not really lovers but friends at the bottom of it. Things just *happen*.”

Baker Blinker stares over at Wheeler Wilson. They sure do, both think at the same time.

“We better get into costume, then.” Wheeler sees her emit another small cough. “You *sure* you’re up to this?”

“Okay,” says Baker Blinker, which is only half an answer since she was choking a little at the same time. She knocks her hand softly against her chest. “It will be all right,” she says to Wheeler but also to herself.

“Maybe it’s the caffeine this time more than the sugar.”

(to be continued)

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00340208

Before the shooting day, Wheeler explained to Sugar her motivation for running her shack out in the center of nowhere. “It’s about the citizens and denizens of these woods,” she indicated, “the fresh pies you can harvest from the pecan and apple and cherry trees about this time of year and how pleased they are that you can bring such joy into their otherwise rather empty lives by filling them with your, erm, lovingly prepared food.”

“I think I get it,” she says in her not near as deep enough voice. Wheeler tells her she needs to change it before Donald shows up and the cameras switch on. “How’s this,” she tried again almost an octave lower.

“Better. Keep practicing. We have an hour.”

—–

7 o’clock. Donald is preparing pancakes and muffins wearing only a thong; his duck costume hadn’t come back from the cleaners yet. Ace the Gopher was assigned to run over there and check on its status. Yet the cameras were rolling. “We can add the costume to this particular scene post-production,” explained CGI specialist Forrest Ferment. “The cost will be low as long as he stays perfectly still or almost so.” As the scene basically demanded, lucky for them. Sugar had just popped several of her freshly plucked pies into the pre-heated oven and took the opportunity for a break. This is where the dialog begins. Donald to her side was engrossed in recipe reading. “Stay that way,” guest director Wheeler said, filling in for a sick Baker. “Just cut the 2 places where you whisk and beat.” Baker would not be happy later when she reviewed the day’s reels in her bed. “Movement,” she complained. “Keep the eye engaged and moving. That’s what the whisking is there for, that’s what the beating is in place for.” Then Donald’s costume shows up from Clyde’s and everything is back to normal. Time for the denizens and citizens of these here woods to wake up and smell the coffee, namely Sugar’s patented cinnamon recipe with a dash of nutmeg and a pinch of coconut. Nostrils flare, bedroom slippers are slipped on. Soon all will be here, ready for their pancakes and whatnot. Center of Woods stirs to life.

(to be continued)

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00340204

“What are we looking for here, *partner*?”

“You’ll see,” standing Wheeler responded to sitting Baker Blinker. Or should I say, Flip responded to Magika. Because both were Beans in the moment, thanks to their “matching” hair. Wheeler/Flip kept hiding her bad eye to the camera behind a wooden pole of the ruins they were in, what some erroneously deemed brown to pair with a mismatched blue in a classic case of heterochromia. Actually the affliction she suffered from was anisocoria, or an enlarged pupil, making one eye appear darker than the other.

The graveyard across the rushing stream showed no signs of activity. “W-who are we looking for?” asked Baker Blinker again, rephrasing the question from What. “Zappa? I’ve heard that Zappa is around.”

“Maybe,” responded Wheeler. “We’ll see.” She knew the woods were labyrinthine and cryptic for a reason. Labyrinth, eh? That was the first real clue she belonged here, back in Jeogeot and away from Ontario for a spell. Baker Bloch remained asleep and unable to participate. Thus the presence of the Other Baker, perhaps, the female one.

“I want you to think long and hard about the red and the green, Baker Blinker,” said Wheeler Wilson to her side as she shifted her weight from one leg to the other, which also switched observing eyes. Time to see in the dark now.

(to be continued)

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Table Room (cutting down to size)

“Take *that*… *pixy*. Think you can come onto *my* territory and steal –”

“What’s ya doing?” Baker Bloch walking in. Wheeler thought he was out exploring Nautilus this afternoon per usual. No: staying home instead; hanging out in another tower of the castle, unseen until now. “Rain,” he rationalized to Wheeler after catching her by surprise. Pixy! He makes a note to check that out later. “In the forecast all day,” he says without sitting. Better to stand at this awkward moment for a quicker escape.

“And the rumblings, yeah,” she said, also seeing the occasional lightning in the air and trying to keep confidence in her voice. A rare off day for Our Second Lyfe. She shouldn’t have taken the risk. Now she has to explain.

“Sooo. Who’s this again? Pixley was it (internal snicker)?”

—-

A *rival*, he pondered later, returning to his tower-for-the-day. Something to do with Greenleaf, she said. The rock village. Pretty eyes, though. And I guess the rest was built around that. Nice something else as well. Said she came from a magical place called Pettry Bottom, not far from Red Dragon that is the same as Blue Pennant in the past. Must have something to do with Helen, then. And 3.16, she said. The *others* are gaining power. What *others*?

“I took her over to smaller Hooterville out of the big city glare and then beat the pulp out of her,” she also excused herself, buying into my joke and eating an orange. Hmmm.

In retrospect I think of Baker Blinker and what happened to her via Karoz, history sort of repeating itself.

Wheeler remains a force to be reckoned with. “Pixley” knows that now. Might as well pit a top-of-her-game Tina Louise against a wannabe Mary Ann Summers. Relevant.

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