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

June 18, 2023 · 1:35 am

00380615

One last look around…

… before heading inside the pyramid again.

“He left the marbles and globes, Hucka. Spheres all.

“The bees are gone, I assume — he covered their formerly very active hole with rocks. He was planning a fire pit before I came along. No more threats there.”

“No.”

“*There* you are.”

“This was important,” she explained, leaving out the, “unlike most of your chattering.” Thanks, Hucka!

“So… should I return the toys?”

“Dot dot dot,” she answered. I knew what she meant.

But did I *really* know what she meant?

Thing is, there was another toy at Aloha and it wasn’t my own. Singular, unlike my many. Toy. Was he embarrassed? The Son of God, the founder of a potential religion like Xianity, with *that*? It was a bizarre sight. I couldn’t figure out what it was, yet all my toys were all around it that I had to pick up and gather together for moving. I couldn’t miss it; it stuck out, see. It was lying in the sun, soaking in the sun. Siren. Muse, even. You make do with what you have to. You are all alone in the woods. Time to bring back Thomasina, the pyramid itself.

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June 16, 2023 · 4:53 pm

00380613

“So here it is, Hucka. The FILE. 32 sims lined up in a row — column, actually — running all the way across the 32 x 32 sim grid designated as the Nautilus continent. But I believe you’re going to tell me we should count starting at the bottom this time.

(no answer)

“FILE, Hucka Doobie (Baker Bloch continued). You’re going to tell me this is a 32 page file, one for each of the inclusive sims. 1-16, part 1 of 2 as it were, ends in Constance. 17-32 ends with a blank page, a missing piece of the file. The 32nd page is either missing or blank (he reinforces). Here’s the primary link for this idea: The page for (the sim of) Ten Pages is 10 pages into the hypothetical report, again reading from the bottom up instead of top down. The 9th page then would be READux. This conjunction seems to emphasize that we’re suppose to read the pages of the file in order to understand the content. Obvious.

(to be continued)

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June 13, 2023 · 8:23 am

00380607

“4 of 5 letters the same at the top. And crooked again, just like with the graffiti in, what was it, Hypolazy?”

“Hypoluxo,” she answered. “Hypoluxo, Florida. The randonaut’s intent was to find a remote place. Graffiti artists generally work in remote places, thus proving the synchronicity right there. The coordinates he summoned fulfilled his desire.”

“Cool. But the glyph — even the J fits in here, since the only other letter in it that tilts the exact same way is R. Switch out similarly turning J and and one of the 2 Rs, your choice, and you have the same 5 letters: KRMNL again. L for the R now to finish, if we assume it all rotates around and ending can loop back to beginning.”

“Truth,” she said. “This glyph is very important. TILE.”

“Of course,” I returned. “Same four colors, same (sub-) letters in the colors. Just in terms of KRMNL, the adjusted top row, MNR are blue and KL are green.”

“Nice.” Exhale. “Now what about the straight letters? HYCTY?” I didn’t have an answer.

—–

Interpreting Hucka Doobie (thanks Hucka!) later indicated that the J can be switched with the R of the same column — JASPR — simply by shifting the whole thing down one letter, assuming an infinite repeat of the 5×5 glyph in all directions again. This discussion naturally led back to Nautilus. Through Naughtilus, oddly enough, catty-corner to the Piccolo sim which the owner of Jasper Falls in the pivotal sim of Jasper featured in the next post calls his actual home. We teleport an investigating team down.

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June 2, 2023 · 11:08 pm

“Doorpick”

“User,” he said, pointing. He knew who I was. Did I? Am I still Baker Bloch in the game we play that is Our Second Lyfe? Is that my primary avatar still?

Anyway, thanks to Pearl Grey for including this work in her most recent Wanderlust Art Truck show! Pearl’s blog here:

https://millionhappyendings.wordpress.com/

And you can teleport directly to the exhibit here:

http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Ashenlave/199/61/63

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June 2, 2023 · 5:12 pm

fishy

“So how long you going to keep up this ruse? *Pitch*.”

“As long as it takes,” he replies generically, shifting his long legs nervously again. “Do (he indicates behind him), do these *people* have to follow you everywhere you go?”

“The Eightyeights? Of course. You know that.” She paused, thinking about what to say next. “Bad luck to stare at the ocean this time of day, though, they believe. Have to face away. Like the bear.”

“Ted?” He dares to glance back in its direction, centered in the sandy passageway that runs between the two halves of Sunklands Institute.

Another pause. “We can call him that. Or her.”

“What’s with this Tiki curse anyway?… riddling the town. Saddling it.”

Wheeler paused longer this time and decided not to even answer Baker Bloch, currently disguised as thought-to-be obsolete VHC City originating vampire Pitch Darkly. Married to Mary instead of Wheeler. The reason for his being.

“You can’t keep postponing the inevitable,” she said after staring into the hateful ocean for a while, bright in the fairy blue light. The light of the Devil, some say. 10:01. The Eightyeights couldn’t handle it, thus the turning. Wheeler was, in contrast, soaking it all in. Pitch was just glancing all around, shifting his feet and legs and arms. And glowing eyes. “You’ll wake up next to Mary one morning, perhaps one much like this one, and realize she’s just a symbol of something bigger. ‘Mary me,’ I said so long ago that I can’t recall where and how.”

“Boston?” Pitch said, and then corrected himself. “No, not Boston.”

“Not Miami,” Wheeler also offered. They both sat there, trying to remember the circumstances surrounding the event. It was also the day he met Mary; he did recall that. Reel reel reeling them in. Just like now.

“Caught another one!” she cried gleefully just over at the newly placed dock.

“Wonderful dear! A *whopper* this time!” he observed.

“Just like your story,” Wheeler hissed over through folded hands.

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June 1, 2023 · 2:49 pm

Vowells

And so they were wedded that June. Something about substance over style in the vows. Something about quantity over quality. Substance and quantity over style and quality? Something was wrong here, really wrong. What does this wedding have to do with Constantynople, our newly minted darling of the blog? And why do we have the returned, purple gowned Wheeler in Alpha with Baker Bloch? Marriage of convenience? Let’s back up, have them eat those words for now…

We are at the end of 32, sliding into 33. Wheeler wasn’t joking. She’d won the Tic-tac-toe game fair and square. “We will be married to each other and also the town,” he now recalled about what she said at the grated white table in Ontario above the completed board, food shunted aside for the moment. Town, he contemplated. Wrong one. *Really* wrong one. He was falling into a pit, deep and dark and dank and dingy. 4D. No returning to kaput Ontario to the scene of the crime. We’d have to resolve this situation elsewhere. He lost his hat.

Someone stirred in the blue and yellow glowing teepee.

Fall over, Pitch Darkly stepped out of his dark (etc.) house and into the blinding white light. “Hey you blippity bleep bleep kids stop playing around with that statue!” he cried from the porch.

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May 9, 2023 · 10:49 am

Iowa (Gully Gee!)

It was a Warm Morning when the object crashed into the future site of itself. Early May I believe. THUD!!! The noise attracted the attention of a sore backed nearby hiker, walking in a different dimension but still able to hear because of the loudness. And then the straight line was manufactured backwards for close to a football field in length over 01 02 03 04 gullies. Alvin Straight. Motocyclone. Cylinder Rodman. We continued…


Warm Morning Crash Site: turn here!

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May 6, 2023 · 3:50 pm

Bakers… and Wheeler

I think we have a new candidate for an alchemical experiment going wrong that you originally assigned to Bart Smipson here in photo-novel 09.” They were in the past. Which was also the present.

“Lemongrab, yes. I’ve heard,” the female Baker replies to the male Baker. She reads the blog even if she hadn’t appeared in it for a while. “Sink into Sunklands”. It’s taped to her bathroom mirror so she’ll remember at night. Just before bed. She understands they, the Baker family of avatars and friends, are struggling to establish Lemon Free State in the middle of Nautilus. Thus Lemongrab, who here goes by Mike. And Lemongrab 2 is his now female (?) mate Pat. Both found quickly on the Our Second Lyfe marketplace through a search for complete avatars using keyword “Duke.”

“Does that make you Princess Bubblegum?” He pivots his head, takes her overarching pinkness in. “You always wanted to be a mother, Baker Blinker. You always wanted… *boys*.”

“Not *those* kind of boys,” she shot back.

“Oh sure you do. You were jealous of Wheeler from the beginning.” He knew to let the matter drop after that. They’d been through the transference a 1000 times now, reviewed every aspect. In the early days of such analysis Baker Blinker was trying to assert herself as the queen ruler again, with Baker Bloch by her ever-side as Prime Minister. Like in the UK as opposed to the US, which had just gone to hell. Wheeler, early on again, was kind of like 2016 Trump happening at the same time, the new ruler, the wannabe *dictator* — obvious to them if not a big chunk of the country still surrounding their safe patch of virtual irreality up in the main world. Where Mike and Pat originally come from in Missouri, North Carolina and Tennessee respectively. This was all fate.

And she’s still married to original “king” Karoz Blogger — that hadn’t changed, despite all the other stuff that has occurred since they tied the knot in photo-novel 02 and originally started dating in 01. It seems to be one constant of the blog and attached photo-novels. Perhaps the ultimate one. The ability of two to manifest at once and live and interact together as husband and wife. Then: Wheeler.

—–

She ditched the remainder of the crazy blue outfit, made the scars in her face deeper and more off-putting to fit into this world better.

“Last Drop, good,” she said, staring at the the sign of the place on the edge of the Fissure, which some call the Fracture just to be ornery about established protocol. “I have a place to eavesdrop on new gossip.” In particular, she was looking for Jed, who now seems to go by John (the Mind Reader) or perhaps Incognito, obvious enough nod to a disguise, a covering up of an origin rooted in one of those complicated North-South type disputes. And *Stitches.* “Ted,” she mouths his own new name aloud while thinking about all this.

“Yes?”

She twirls in her tracks.

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May 3, 2023 · 3:13 pm

shallow water

It was so cold in here you could see your breath. But people didn’t mind. Celebrities in the audience!

“Good morning afternoon evening everybody!” Her standard opening line. “Welcome to the klub that’s going to put Kedas back on the map!” And then the requisite plug. “Brought to you by Sprite lemon-lime drink. The drink soo clean…” and here she paused to pull one of their sodas from her dress somewhere and chug. She retreats the can from her mouth, aaahs loudly, then: “…Grant *Hill* recommends it!” Cheers from the audience. Grant Hill is in attendance. He makes eye contact with me from where he’s sitting across the reflected green floor. Just briefly, enough to make me know he’s aware of what’s going on, if only in an unconscious way right now. Two Hills, PHEH, he may be saying internally. If he could only turn over the blueprint to his life he could see.

—–

“Dreaming again on that plank, Ted.”

“Just leave her this time. No need to tell Al.”

“I agree.”

“Got us into a lot of trouble before.”

“I remember.”

“Lot of paperwork.”

“I recall.”

“Anyway. Why don’t you enter her mind and see what’s going on.” So John the Mind Reader did. After a pause:

“Soo, what’s happening?”

“Apparently,” John surmised, “the past. Or a version thereof.”

“In-teresting.” They both had changed their minds about Al. The uppity higher up needed to be informed of this. New development!

(to be continued)

—–

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May 2, 2023 · 11:24 am

going round the bend

Under a spell, a parade of words began to flow from their now unblocked mouths. Newt first. How he got his name. “Right *here*,” he said. Wheeler’s turn. She was Queen to Baker’s Prime Minister but this was not Baker; Baker was not the father of Shelley. “Unacceptable!!!” shrilled the fruit headed Mike, still at the center of it all, holding the lemon and lime in each hand, ready to stuff them back in if needed. And he did. He could get information through other means. He sent in Pat. They high foured each other while passing. Pat would get to the bottom of this, Mike thought. Female influence. Darker origins. Almost Knight but not quite. Getting there, though. He went out of the Cavern to have a smoke under the starless, moon filled sky. Or was it skies? A skiier pair of skis rider-less bike whizzed by, expertly weaving through the tall flowers and small trees despite no apparent guider. A man walked up as it faded in the distance: glasses, professor looking. “I let it go. I let *everything* go. And yet, as you see, it still knows the way home.”

The bike rode into the rising sun. Mike’s lemon head went away. They were talking man to man, human to human. Knight was over.

(to be continued)

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