Tag Archives: Baker Bloch^*++++@

December 11, 2019 · 5:41 am

point

I was putting up birdhouses today on my new property, too lazy to even change out of my Purple (and) Bear costume. Maybe that *was* my identity here, though. *I* am the Purple (and) Bear. Perhaps I own both this place (Sanctuary Point, after the sim plus the location description) and the old quarry. Or maybe the old quarry is where I come from. In the past. Where the mist got me. Maybe mist with a “y”; maybe capitalized but maybe not. Maybe the mist doesn’t like you capitalizing it in writing. Maybe it exacts its toll even a bit more if you do so. I must be careful. But yet — what could be wronger than the curse I’m presently under! A purple bear! Banished from my circle of friends. Confined to an old quarry and, now, a neighboring peninsular point far far away from a societal center. It’s out here away from the capital that Rosehaven’s *myst*eries are fully revealed; uncloaked. I must be vigilant for more changes.

“Hello!”

The piping voice, sounding of helium, was far far away yet somehow quite near. I looked around — no one here.

“Hell-o, hell-oooo!”

I then spotted him in the giant live oak tree, the centerpiece of the property actually. Beside the birdhouse I had just set up on one of its massive, sprawling limbs.

“Hel-loo!”

It took him a short while to start forming actual sentences and just stop chirping greetings (maybe the creature was part bird?) but I eventually got out that he thought the house he sat beside was too small for his needs. Or the rest of his clan. The wee ones.

The next time he showed up he brought along architectural drawings. Turns out this was his land as well as mine, or so he claimed.

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December 10, 2019 · 10:52 am

Rosehavien! Rosehavenite?

“It had to be done, Hucka Doobie. To keep the league of Axis away.”

“Or keep them closer to your vest,” responded the bee-person, perhaps my bestest friend inworld now that Baker Blinker is away so much. “It’s a beautiful spot. Right next to the old quarry. Of course this was all planned out.”

“Of course.”

“Now you can monitor what the Purple and the Bear do in their secret lair. Not that you’re *spying* or anything.”

“Of course not (!)”

“Are you?”

“No, because it will be me in that secret lair and me alone.”

Hucka Doobie looked across at me (in character) and then toward the hideout.

“Good deal,” she ended.

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November 19, 2019 · 8:03 am

meeting

He was playing a white piano in Black Dragon, waiting for Axis. Well he was *pecking* at the thing, since Baker Bloch is quite the non-musician. “I can’t even play John Lennon’s ‘Imagine’ on this,” Baker lamented aloud, non-talented hands finally lifted from the keyboards. “Better get over to Spunky’s”.

—–

“Have we met before?” Baker Bloch asks after sitting down with Axis at Spunky’s. The wine had just arrived. Merlot for both.

“Sure we have, Baker Bloch. You played the piano for me.”

Baker Bloch stared at him, knowing he was confusing him with someone else. But he was too embarrased to talk about his lack of musical abilities right now, especially after the white piano fiasco. He *dreams* he can play the piano quite well. Why not in reality? he’s asked himself more than once. Not even “Imagine”.

“Y-you must be confusing me with someone else,” he offered after a pause. *Pitch* can play the piano. Has Axis met Pitch?

“As you wish,” the black clad man with the red crossed chess returned, allowing the matter to drop. In his reality, black moves first in chest. Baker has indeed met Axis (novel 15; toward the end) but doesn’t recall. What he *did* note here is that their voices are strangely synchronized — same tone, same mannerisms. He also doesn’t recall that Axis is already married in that reality. To Teebestia, the open heart woman from, let’s see, novel 5 I believe. Yes, the one set almost exclusively in Olde Lapara Towne, also mentioned recently in this here blog, um, this here photo-novel (16).

“Well anyway, congrats on the marriage old chap!” Baker raises his glass, and Axis reciprocates. They don’t clink because that could end the dream. “Good that we’ve met and discussed things. I’ve grown quite fond of Wheeler down through the years now. We had a rocky start, being competitors for the ownership of Collagesity originally, but now we’ve learned to share. Part for me, see, and part for her. And, I suppose, now part for you as her partner. Will you be living in Collagesity? Maybe at the Julia House? My friend Karoz Blogger will not be returning it doesn’t seem. He was slated to live there.”

“That could happen,” Axis matched Baker, almost at mate. Black opening first makes all the difference. He can add the “N” at the end to finish.

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November 18, 2019 · 7:01 am

besties

Baker Bloch was working alone tonight. The marriage of Wheeler was throwing him off his game, he felt. How could this be? He was trying to figure out how to organize all the Gaston posts into a separate page, a separate site even. He must be careful. Randolph with an additional name of Cross of all things. 2 doors down from Axis. 2 doors down from…

The door to the almost finished coffee shop in the central part of NWES opened. “Thought you might need some company tonight.” Hucka Doobie, Baker thought, rather disappointed that he couldn’t hide from the other core avatars completely. Ever. They were a family bound together in this virtual space and time, perhaps beyond. “Hi Hucka,” he offered as graciously as manageable. “Have a seat. Have some coffee. On the house.”

—–

I’ll sit in here and read until Hucka Doobie finishes her pie.

—–

“What is that thumping noise, Baker Bloch?” queries his bee-friend after the bathroom break, after the pie. Maybe his best friend now that Baker Blinker spends so much time in Chilbo, away from *Collagesity* (Collagesity! Yay!).

“Must be coming from the apartments directly above us. The Foxxy I believe it’s called — yes, checking remotely: The Foxxy. The primary owner and creator of the town was working on those at the same time I was working here, directly below. He contacted me via im about another matter — rental one — and I told him I was directly below him at the moment, which he didn’t know.”

“You have to be careful about contacting the outside. Outside our family of avatars, I mean.”

“I know. You’re right of course. But this is the *guy* who also created the duplicate Faux Rhino over in Gaston. I so so wanted to talk to him about it — why the duplication, so forth. It was so tempting.”

“Just that,” Hucka Doobie reinforced in her warning. “Another temptation.” She looks over at the shrine again, just outside the cafe at the terminus of a small, dead end hallway. Baker notices and starts to explain a bit more.

“Lu Ellen Hutchison is becoming a town hero, at least in certain parts. The place, NWES, is split down the middle, just like a certain US of A our joint user lives in up in the so called Real World. Real Life.”

“I know,” opines Hucka Doobie. “So cliche.”

Baker blows out some air, then continues. “Anti-gay, anti-immigrants, anti-whatever. Negative forces, Hucka Doobie. Save the unborn fetuses who are less than 3 months old but kill off all the old people in the world. It’s backwards. It’s *madness*.”

“Yes,” agrees Hucka Doobie, then glances at the shrine again. “Madness.”

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November 16, 2019 · 9:59 am

blue red yellow DEAD

“So here it is all mapped out, Hucka. The murder. *The* Murder. The ‘crime scene’: here. This building. Upstairs I mean. Not downstairs — *here* here. Up there here.”

“The ‘murdered’ is Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer, yes,” speaks Hucka Doobie, trying to speed things along. Much to analyze and absorb tonight.

“Then next is the ‘motive’,” continues Baker Bloch in a line. “Peepee, the person –er, creature murdered in the first place. The start of a chain reaction.”

“Cool.” Hucka Doobie moves to the next line down. “Then the ‘#1 suspected’ — the murderer of *Rabbid*, is, um, Lu Ellen? Did I get that name right?”

“Lu Ellen Hutchinson, yes. Or maybe Hutchison without the (first) ‘n’. I’ll have to check.”

“But Lu Ellen (for the first name),” Hucka Doobie attempts to firmly establish.

“Yes.”

“Moving on, then, is ‘clue # 1’, which is provided by synchronicity investigator Alice L. Farrowheart. We also know now that this person sometimes goes by Lilly.”

“No, I never said that,” defends Baker Bloch. You must be confused, yes, with Alice Frame. Another Alice F. — perhaps interesting.”

“Okay, I’ll trust you with that,” offers up Hucka Doobie. “But this is from the Red Umbrella, specifically a Sam Parr collage from the Red Umbrella. Specifically specifically Sam Parr 04. This is a marriage. Who is getting married? Well…”

“Wheeler. Wheeler is getting married.” Baker Bloch is referring to information shared with Hucka Doobie earlier as they drank coffee at Spunky’s in Southside. Surprising news!

“The married woman — Wheeler or not — is then throwing a frog toward a green man who is removing his own head in ‘clue # 2’. This is the next collage in Sam Parr — Sam Parr 05, part 1 of a diptych.”

“Part 1 of 2, yes,” elaborates Baker Bloch (unnecessarily).

“So in summary — for now — the just married gal throws a frog at a man and turns him green and removes his head. This is her father Peepee, murdered by Bullfrog. But it is *also*…”

“Bullfrog,” completes Baker Bloch. I don’t think it can get any clearer than that.

“Nope. I agree. The rabbit is obviously the frog.”

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November 14, 2019 · 8:06 am

the state of Collagesity…

… is good. Healthy, even.  Mr. Babyface is back at Perch reading his voluminous newspapers at 15 till 3, thinking along these same lines while puffing on his oh-so-smooth Red Dragon tobacco. Night this time: PM. He has that freedom now the head is back where it belongs.

Yes, Perch is back in Carrcassonnee’s nogg’n, but she isn’t quite “fixed” yet per se. The Man About Time and others are working on it. A second one-eyed monster has been purchased on the marketplace as a potential translator, perhaps even — dare I? — a — no, can’t say it. Carrcassonnee rules! But: a little buddy, yes. Frank?

“Frank?” Nothing yet. The Man About Time will try again tomorrow.


The Man About Time playing Carl Nielsen’s “Commotio” for Frank and Carrcassonnee.

What about Wheeler, then, remembering that she took over control of Collagesity late 2016 in a political coupe which seemingly has been reversed with the at least partial reinstatement of Carrcassonnee, the deity she deposed?

She’s okay with it all. But decisions must be made about the Blue Feather. Is this still Wheeler’s “palace” or is it a place owned equally by all the Blue Feather club, which also includes Baker Bloch, Baker Blinker, Hucka Doobie, Karoz Blogger, and the rest of the core avatars? Not just Wheeler: all. Is this what’s happening?

Wheeler and Baker Bloch, the 2 owners of the land the town is situated upon, don’t know yet.


“We don’t know.”

But one thing for sure now is that Collagesity has returned. The town has a true center with the tower bearing its name, a default landmark for all those who enter from the outside.

“Hmph,” voiced visiting Alice Farrowheart from over at NWES (which we’ll return to very shortly). “I wanted to go to the Red Umbrella but instead I land here.” She turns. “Oh, I understand. This is the place where you get to *all* the galleries. Not just one: all.”

“And what about this museum?”

Yes, what about that museum, visiting Alice Farrowheart from over at NWES?

It’s a subject for another day.

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November 11, 2019 · 7:44 am

return of the Dawg Pound?

“… nice view of Carrcassonnee’s new, blooming tree over at the Temple of TILE. I think this could be our new spot, Other Baker.” He woofed down another delicious piece of Raggedy Ann’s pizza with this. “This — um so good — this new pizza item is the *best*, Baker Blinker.” He takes yet another bite, and talks, still with his mouth pretty full. “Ginger, yum (*chomp*). Just a hint of ginger.”

“How about that table over there, though,” suggests similarly woofing Baker Blinker, not as convinced this was their new spot at Perch. “Better view.” She was at least polite enough to stop eating when she talked.

Baker Bloch glanced over after swallowing. “Too near the door to the place. You know I don’t like sitting in front of the door. *Everyone* can look out on us.” He returns to the pizza and the devouring of it. “Besides (*cut*), Mr. Babyface is over there right now (*bite*).”

“Mr. Babyface has *been* over there. What’s he doing with all those newspapers?”

Baker Blinker’s been glancing over here, thinks Mr. Babyface, paused in his reading. She may report me to the maitre de, gasp, who may tell the owner. Maybe even Perch himself, who sees *everything* anyway.

Oh wait, he suddenly realized, playfully fooling himself. Perch is back in (Carrcassonnee’s) head — not mounted up there above the door any more. Grease stain left behind covered up by a big clock. Oh well. Guess there’s no one around to monitor my voluminous newspaper reading today. Maybe I’ll order another cup of coffee around, say, 3:30-ish.

At 25 after 3, Mr. Babyface spots the odd conjunction that would influence the rest of his life. An ad for a football camp featuring Leroy Kelly, and just below, an ad originating from Steamboat Springs, Colorado.

Steamboat Kelly, he ruminates after reading one then the other. The famous running back who replaced (best running back ever) Jim Brown but also made a (smaller) name for himself. Sat on the bench and bided his time — good for him. Patience pays off.

Trouble was, there was never a *Steamboat* Kelly. Only Leroy — sans nickname. Mr. Babyface had entered an alternate universe where up could be down and Cleveland Browns players, former and present, could be manipulated by a higher power.

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November 2, 2019 · 7:59 am

7 Stones no more (!)

“Senor Green Jeans is a cousin,” states Gene “Mossman” Fade in that oh so grating voice of his after I told him about Alice Farrowheart and granddaughter Toddles’ recent encounter at the Neptune Pool in NWES. If only it were an octave higher Baker Bloch may be able to tolerate the gutty gravelliness for suitable periods of socializing. But I suppose that would mean he’d have to be *Jean* Fade instead of Gene, a girl instead of a boy. Hmm: I wonder, then, if Senor Green Jeans is a girl? But he must get out of here soon. Very much so.

“What does this mean for the town, this name change back to Collagesity?” Gene continued, wondering how it would affect the business at his small bar on Northside.

“It gives it a center,” Baker spoke, the male one that is (there’s also Baker Blinker, of course, the anima to his animus). “We have a tower now. Have you gotten down to that side of town tonight to see? Everyone is gathering. Looks like an instantaneous party, complete with a bonfire. All our friends will be there.” Time’s up. Baker can’t take any more of the voice. He gets up to leave. “See you there hopefully?” he throws back while walking away, rapider and rapider.

—–

Baker was too late for the party, although the bonfire was still smoldering. Police office Jeffry Tanner (yes, yet another cousin), making his nightly rounds, puts it completely out with a special spray made out of anti-tabasco sauce.

But, in the background, we can see the tower, so high from this angle it’s a little hard to make out the “Collagesity” sign.

And even more has happened in town. A certain, special special deity has bloomed new life. Or visa versa. Details soon!

Welcome back Collagesity!

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October 28, 2019 · 8:06 am

i.c. planets 02

“In this diptych, Richard Pryor, rescued by Superman from rock, i.e., ignorance or *wildness*, is a prior, as in a more primitive, past life version. I say this as a strong, black woman in the present, mind you.”

“Of course.”

“Shake’s straw is colored oppositely and bends the opposite way as Superman’s powerful, rescuing arm. He is a Master, but not in a good way. Like in the past. Like in the South.”

“I see.”

“*Now*, Baker Bloch. What has this to do with *Neptune*, the unseen, the unspoken even? West is east. Yellow eyes…”

“Hucka Doobie,” admitted Baker Bloch. “My heart’s really not into this tonight. Can we go somewhere else and talk? I feel like all these collages are closing in on me tonight. There’s too much there.”

“Too much information, eh? Okay. We can simplify. Where do you want to go?”

—–

“The alleyway behind the travel agency,” Hucka Doobie answers herself.

“Karoz ain’t coming back Hucka,” started Baker Bloch again, sad this evening. About Karoz. About Baker Blinker along with him. The anima to his animus, after all. Virtually speaking.

“Well — then let him stay in Chilbo. You can still have 7 Stones.”

“*I* can’t have both.”

“Then, let’s say, create a duplicate. A duplicate temple to mirror his own.”

“That’s already been done.”

“Oh.”

“Wheeler owns the land. She could swap her (2048 parcel) in 7 Stones for this (1780 in Chilbo).”

“Maybe you should talk to her about this as well.” Hucka Doobie looks around at the alley. Seedy. “And what of NWES? That is a second, big factor now in simply staying on Jeogeot; not returning to Nautilus fully. I’ll go with whatever you decide. I’ll stay with you whatever.”

“Thank you, Hucka. Nice to know.”

—-

The next day, they returned to the collage. “Flying Superman rescuing the Pryor — prior — then, is not the Master but the Liberator, in his true, white fashion. He recognizes the inversion in color: Aquaman, seen to his north. An understanding is made of both the sky *and* the seas. This is Neptune. This is the ability to see.”

“Icy planets.”

“I *see* planets, yes. First Uranus, if you look just right. Then Neptune if you look just right with a telescope. It all telescopes out.”

“Ending with Pluto.”

“Not any more.”

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October 28, 2019 · 6:06 am

greens

“What is this suppose to be again, Karoz?”

“It’s called ‘Dance #12,’ and it’s beautiful. I love everything about Chilbo, Baker Bloch,” the alien green being reinforced. “I feel like I am home here.”

“So you’ve said.” Baker didn’t think he was going to budge Karoz’s feelings today. Nor any day perhaps. Maybe this *was* home to him. But what of 7 Stones, then, and the duplicate temple there? It’s time to start pondering — the end?

“Let’s go see it once more,” Karoz requested to his old friend. They’ve been together for over 10 years now, Real Life time. And all those stepping stone years perhaps lead to this moment, this decision. To stay in Chilbo forever or attempt to reintegrate he and his wife Baker Blinker back into a self contained village populated only by alts. Collagesity I mean there, and, now, its replacement, 7 Stones, a chip off the old block.

—–

“Marvelous, eh? Like it was suppose to be there. All along.”

Baker admitted to himself that the temple looked good up there on its perch, overlooking the town. “You know they didn’t want us here, Karoz,” explained his friend, his family. “They thought the collages — too derivative.”

“That’s just your fears.”

“No, I think it’s true. Fleep wanted me here; tried to encourage me. But forces behind the scene persuaded her otherwise, or just overruled her. Perhaps on this and a lot of other matters as well. You have power struggles in a town like this, not solely ruled by alts and their characters.”

“I understand that.” Karoz gazed up the hill, inspired. “But we can change that. We don’t emphasize the collages. We emphasize the philosophy *behind* the collages.”

Was it as simple as that? the male Baker pondered. And where was Baker Blinker today? What was *her* current ruling on the subject? Baker Bloch guessed that she’s going along with Karoz, as usual in the end. She bends her will to his. At least about all this TILE stuff: temples, colleges, etc.

“Okay, let’s go see what you’ve got so far, Karoz.” I through Baker Bloch have accepted the idea of letting go.

“*Swell,” and he dashed up the green, green slope with this. Like a man of 30 instead of the 60 he is.

I admittedly had a hard time keeping up.

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