—–
—–
Tag Archives: BUTTON
00480614
Afterwards she provided more details about her father. Finally. “He lived on top of a mountain but not that one, the one we talked about before.”
“Okay,” I said, thinking of my own mountain, my own castle here. I don’t live on top — not yet anyway; working my way up there with the positioning of this bed behind the eyes at the top of the spiral staircase; just for more privacy on this special special occasion (!) But instead more in the middle where the great majority of my things are still, like my notebooks, like my piano. Just behind the mouth and that gall darn big tongue sticking out from within. The one Philip likes to take his wee-wee’s off of between games of High Speed, ha. Hmm, wee-wee again. Pee pee, I restated in my mind, to match Daisy’s progression of the phrase in moving from real to virtual back in ’12, she revealed.
“They torn down his *house*, Frank,” she just blurted out. “It was awful. Just because he was a rich white man in a poor black country-state working on stuff they couldn’t understand.”
“I’m sorry about that,” I decided to say.
“So am I. He built a much smaller, much more modest house to live in after that but they just torn that one down too, the ‘stuff’ being the problem and not the money he made off of it. Not really… at the core. He had no choice but to leave. Off this world, actually, to a second one initially thought to be far far away indeed, unobtainable to reach in distance of space. He sank all the remainder of his money into the endeavor.”
“Off – world?” I didn’t know where this was going. Was she insinuating that her father was an astronaut? Actually flew into space on a rocket ship? “What could he have… I mean, what did he do to–”
“–incite the people to such anger, such destruction?” she finished his fumbling question. “He was head of a startup company developing AI.”
“Artificial – intelligence?”
“Yes. And they, the townspeople surrounding him on all sides east west north south, believed it to be an evil spirit, a rare, *dark* orisha they called it. Because it threated the whole world, the survival of the human species itself. Or so they were told.”
She became silent here, like a mute button was automatically activated on her flat top head. And so it was. tbc
00470511 (Big Apples)
We’re in the original Amsterdam this time, not the New one over in America also known or more commonly known as New York (, New York). Famed Red Light District: not quite what I was expecting (!). Where are the XXX signs, the scantily dressed prostitutes lining the streets, distracting all our thoughts and motions? And, most importantly and more broadly, where was that gall darn golden auto that was suppose to be here waiting for me?
I’ve searched everywhere, every street, alleyway and side path. I’m beginning to think it was STOLEN, Grand Theft Auto style. One gap replaces the other?
Abruptly switching back from day to night, I reinsert the entrance to the library into the gap in an attempt to make things right again. Was I wrong to press the button? Did that cause all *this*? And did I really even press it in the first place? These questions haunt me to this day.
Or not…. Whatever: goodbye Red, Yellow, Green, Blue. I’m certain I’ll meet one or two or three or all 4 of you in another day in another light. See ya then. Be safe. And… thank you. For being my friend in that time.
Ahh, *there* you are. It worked!
32
I’d moved on. The library that use to be in this place: no more. A gap instead. 31 increased by 1.
All because I pressed the button.
Or not.
I sometimes dream about the Blue Boy. Or someone like him. Verbally abusive, but not really on purpose or intentionally. Just part of the overall dense atmosphere. Yes, dense. Bad juju I suppose. Like Earth itself in a way, in a manner; one blue thing becomes the other and visa versa; interpenetrating. I nibble around on the periphery now. I think he understands.
I call them out and they back off. All is well.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0509
31
“Go ahead. Press it. It’s okay; I’m okay with it now. You’ll be fiiiinne.
“I just wanted to tell you that.
“Go ahead. Presss itt. I’m… okay with it now.
“Go ahead.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0508
00470211 (brick)
“You’ve got to hide me, Roberts. Behind the secret wall with the dog. My girlfriend Tessa’s trying to kill me again!”
“Again?” questions Roberts, then uses her own magical 3rd eye to discover the truth. “Ahh. *Overlap*. Again — right.”
“Right?”
“Well. If you go back there there’s a fair chance he’ll absorb you, the 20 right and the 4 left, which are all wrong.”
“20 right and 4 left, er, wrong, yeah. Got it.”
“That leaves you with 5/6ths odds of your self surviving. I’m just telling you the risks up front.”
As an answer, Arthur Kill lays his own 6 shooter on Roberts’ desk, part of the deal. He’s desperate. He’s seen the Oracle map of New York into New Jersey, south into north. He knows he doesn’t stand a chance against *her*. These are certainly better odds than the Mexican standoff he’s facing otherwise. That damn eye (!). The only way to beat it is to find another eye. Thus: Roberts here.
Roberts inspects the gun and sees that it is the correct one. She presses a button under her desk. The door opens, Spider revealed to him once more. 2130, etc…
“You are free to enter, Arthur Stanford Kill.” She keeps staring at him intensely. He faced life and death if he didn’t do this but he also faces it here, just not with the odds stacked totally against him. Can he stay positive and not descend into negativity? That’s the ultimate question. His survival still depends on it.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0211, Cable Isle, Jeogeot, New York, Towerboro
00400614
Once Mouse started blowing up stuff in the sim he couldn’t quite seem to stop. “There, that’s gone,” he said, pushing the red button in his secret monitor room atop the Charles Village Anti-Omega Rehabilitation Center and remotely watching the incinerator snow globe explode. “Gone gone gone,” he continued, blowing up the forest cemetery, the Chthulu possessed skyscrapers, the Millbank Mortuary and Mental Asylum in rapid order, including patient 00 in the latter, drugged with darts in his eyes and formaldehyde in his veins and arteries. He finds the final target on a screen, trigger happy cane again hovering above red. Haunted Trailer Park Welcome Center. Once he blows this up… oh, he forgot the cabin more in the center, the one where Rock found his true calling with the revealing of a middle name Roll. Is rocking “Roll” Ramby still playing within, unable to unglue himself from the old upright piano, former spider occupants all scurried away to other parts of the structure? Do Toddles, Vain and Artery Boyy, Alice Farrowheart remain as well, ears and eyes and brains hypnotized by the brand new style of keyboard banging music?
Rock stopped his frantic playing mid-bang. “I sense something.”
Then just in the nick of time, arrow shooting municipal agent Prontus Archereus barges into the monitor room. “Hold it right there Mouse!” he commands in a mysteriously strong, masculine voice for such a crudely drawn cartoon. The doctor freezes, fearful that another arrow might take out his cane.
“I’ll… cooperate.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0040, 0614, Omega^^, Urbane Blue/Fishers Island^
reset
The present had been opened, plain lavender box inside the first, soon to have a big red button attached to it which also meant nothing. No Thing. The toys, having done their part, could move back from end to beginning. Aloha (we’re not finished with it (!)).
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0405, Blue Mountain, City Park
00370403 (party 03)
“There’s only one present left, Amos,” he continued. “*The* present.”
“I see.” He didn’t look away from Edward’s eyes. He spotted it in his peripheral vision, which was good enough. Red and green, he viewed. Rectangular. Life itself. Just under the front seat board. Right where he would sit when he got back in. Right between his legs it would be.
“It’s time to open the box, Amos. Everyone else has taken what they needed, which is everything. Leaving you nothing. Open the box.”
Sandman now knew that the lone box in the boat was empty. The Void, then. Could be another empty box inside the first but that would be it.
“You’ve had your fun,” Edward added. No mention of Shelley here because Amos T. Sandman didn’t know Shelley G. Struthers, wouldn’t know her from Eve beside Adam.
“It’s time for me to leave, Eddie.”
“It sure is,” Edward shot back.
“Well… step aside please.”
“I will. On one condition.”
Deep breath. “Okayy…”
“That you take that empty box over there back to your empty shell of a sim and deposit it where you can’t get to it. Also: put a big red button on it, like you’d find on New Mexican police intercoms. Make it look important even if it isn’t. Can you do this for me? Amos?”
Sandman wanted to tell Eddie to stop calling him that but bit his tongue. He had to see this through as smoothly as possible. Else: sunken boat, he knew, he gathered. No more presents at all. Time erased, even, along with attached-at-the-hip Space. End of existence. Just that important.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0037, 0403, Lower Austra^, Nautilus, Wild West
Sunklands 