And so we begin at the end, 561 steps from. Walking down, we’ve returned to the ONE but with nowhere to go but back up.
“NEXT!”
Tag Archives: Certain Death^*+
00480309 (future echo of 00470309)
Okay so let’s talk about the *original* Game of Life, the one that ends in RETIREMENT.
Well, as I’m calculating, if you retire at 62 or 63 and live to be 100, that’s more time spent *living* on the other side of the date subtract all the work work and then recovering from this work in your afterhours, needing more time to buy proper work clothes, and so on. And also assuming that you’re still pretty mobile at least some way into your 90s. In this scenario, it’s really more fitting to say the 2nd half of Life — beyond the Game — only starts when you retire and not just at some kind of so-called mid-life crisis or anything. And it doesn’t have to be mere slide and glide afterwards as some might put it, swift motion without aim toward the grave. It could be about a different motion, a different progression than you had when you work worked. And this is a problem I think a lot of people are confronted with upon leaving their job. 8-5 filled a lot of time. Maybe you had friends at work that will be hard to keep up with now unless, perhaps, they’re around the same age and have some of the same interests that you can share beyond it. What I’m saying is that the old energy needs to be put to new uses. Play with your freed up schedule; have *fun* with it. Think of time as also increasing in quality as well as quantity.
Speaking of gliders…
Constantynople, Constance
… let’s talk about Death now. The true end.
https://bakerbloch.wordpress.com/2025/07/02/00470309/
“No need to worry about a glider this time,” exudes the spirit-head that calls herself Phyllis, guessing what he was going to say.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0309, Constantynople, Nautilus
00470309 (Crooked)
“Right through there, boys. That, ahem, Secret Door takes you to the actual Dream Island you seek. Trust me. I’ve been there. My friend lives there. Almost certain she still lives. There.”
“Thanks bodiless lady!” exclaims Firey. “But what about–”
“No need to worry about a glider this time,” exudes the spirit-head that calls herself Phyllis, guessing what he was going to say. Mind reader, I presume. Among many other talents. “And Al and I will take care of the wreckage left down at the church. Won’t we Al?”
“Um, sure,” says Al, just offscreen to the right. With her steady stare toward him, he then realizes this is Phyllis’ prompt to go take care of it before service ends at the Church of Ood and the congregation within is let loose upon the world again, blood splattered Pitch, his wife Mary and the rest. “On it.” He takes his leave, jumping off the 2nd floor balcony and down to the ground to save time.
Her attention turns back to the boys. “Okay, a word of caution; I must be totally honest and up front with you — no choice, actually.” She thinks of truth demanding All Orange here on the other side of the island but much closer in psychic space. “If the time is 2011 or before when you arrive, then you’ll be provided comfortable accommodations by my friend in the guest house near the main house like we spoke about. But if by chance — just by chance — it’s 2012 or after, no structures will remain on the island and my friend will be gone and your trip might be in vain. I’m almost sure she’s there waiting for you. But I’m not *100* percent sure — again, just being up front with you about the transition.” Damn you, All Orange! she cusses internally.
“Oh,” says a suddenly less flamey Firey, his happy-as-hell enthusiasm for the exit just a second ago dampened by this news. And cool green Leafy’s formerly upturned mouth has become more of a flat line.
“W-well. If not 100 percent then *what* percent?” he asks. “About your friend being there and the trip being a success and all.”
Phyllis hesitates for a moment. “80?” she finally comes up with timidly, eyebrows raised.
Al leaps back up to the balcony and into the room. “Done,” he says to Phyllis. “Threw it over into the graveyard next door to be eaten and disposed of by the zombies when they awaken tonight.”
“Excellent job, Al. Well done. I’m, er, just being up front with the boys here about the odds of their success.”
“40?” says Al.
“No. *80*. 80, Al.”
Al heard otherwise but… that stare again. He dare not counter her.
“Alright, okay. We’re still good,” says Firey. “We’ll take our chances. After all, we know *this* isn’t the Dream Island we seek now.”
Phyllis shakes her head which is all of her. “No Dream,” she says with her mouth. But Leafy thinks he detects a forked tongue within now.
“I think we should stay, Firey,” he says. “Check, I don’t know, some other sources. Maybe the Church of Ood people she spoke about.”
“Those *FOOLS*?” Phyllis dismisses the proposition loudly. “I mean, ahem (timid laughter), those people know nothing, absolutely *no*-thing (more laughter). They still think there’s a God in the Air that controls all outcomes for everyone. Instead: everything is odds, chance, calculable to within an nth degree by a big brained soul like me. Like 80 percent (for the circumstances) here. Right Al?”
“Right Phyllis,” he quickly agrees this time, taking care not to look at the boys.
“So it’s settled,” she says. “The exit awaits. You can’t stay here after all.”
“Can’t stay,” quickly tacks on Al. But he’d certainly take even 40 percent odds to leave this blasted hellhole. And in fact that’s just what he plans to do. Follow the boys through the door, running as fast as possible behind them before being caught, whatever that might entail. Montana sounds great in comparison, 2011, 2012 or any other time.
Oh *God*. Phyllis is staring at him again. She *knows*.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0309, Constantynople, Goikyland, Nautilus
00430703
“Never forget. Our purpose is to secure and serve (soive), brothers and sisters. We’ve closed a portal but opened a dimension jumper. Be strong in our quest. Remember to sign and endorse your checks. Because coffee is more important than food itself because it provides food for thought. I’ve gone on long enough. I’ve provided you with enough clues to start your own search for the truth. Don’t listen to just me. Listen to your own thoughts, your own beliefs on the subject matter. Draw your own conclusions. Use the brain you were given. Rock* demands it, the Gods of the God himself or herself or itself. Anyway, good luck seekers. Baker B. outta here.”
END OF “SUNKLANDS 2024 MIDDLE”!
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0703, GTA
00430501 (Island Boy)
He came here…
… in a boat. He was looking for someone. A woman both 3 and 1. Is this truly the right location? But the lightning strike knows, he remembers.
Into the setting sun he continues. Like a caboose on a train going round a dark mountain it is, soon to disappear out of man’s sight only to emerge the next day. Roundabout. 8 sided even, like the I Ching. The endless revolution of black vs. white. Lists. Into Liszt. We continue…
00430413 (The End?)
“Arroyo is a dead end,” Fern said to me through her dreams last night. “You’re going to have to swing back and forth wildly across Nightsity like a wobbly pendulum in order to approach the issue from all angles. Only then can you understand the city, but it will not be solved in this one photo-novel. Our Second Lyfe is dead.” That’s what she said. There’s no going back. She told me where to swing next. Lightning strike while crossing into Kabuki. But I can’t call it that, I suppose. Got in trouble with Arroyo from the locals. Fern already has a place there, a business, but won’t tell me specifics. Her gal pal Lichen is probably around too. And I was indicated they still have the list. Both of ’em, which are actually one of ’em. Black and White together. Here’s the strike. Took a bit of effort to catch the quick thing.
Fern is an ascended master for sure, beyond me in most ways except comedy. That part belongs to Lichen. And perhaps there we can find the spark that might kindle back my love of Our Second Lyfe. Because it’s certainly still there. Through Wendy, the third. But for now, in this post, we must acknowledge the death on some level; move on. Fern has fused with [Certain Death] on the search for the All Seeing Eye. Both share the golden gun that guides them through dream after dream after dream, like entering rooms in an endless mansion. For him, though, it started in a different game, on a highly neglected “third” summit called Gordon. Lighting strike again. We’ve seen this before.
Back to entering, err, *Kabusie*.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0413, Arroyo, C2077, GTA, Kabusie, NIGHTSITY, Washington
00430407 (Wait)
“Did you check for bugs?” Fast food vendor Lana knew that Wanda didn’t mean insects in her chicken and fries. Spyware again of course. Everyone in town thought she was crazy whereas in actuality she was the only sane one amongst them. Except for Larry who’s heard it all too now (fish).
Page danced with her girl at the Dizzy Lizzy and thought about Wendy and the removal of alpha again. Gap in her knowledge, she knew. Zula might help. STOP
GO?
00430406 (Mt. Gordon Mysteries)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1YzgnITHBHA
I’m in.
—–
In other news:
Found a rare 4-some in C2077! Hardest to see is weeing on the truck more in the background. The other 3 identical red white and blue punks are dancing up a storm in front of it with a couple of others. Happy Independence Day again I suppose!
00430401 (“Alphanumerica”)
I came here…
… in a boat.
Cool! though Frank Lynn while encountering this object just beyond the edge of the faux sea and its partially sunk vessel. Maybe this is what my lost spool table has turned into. A model for a whole mountain of mystery! This made him even more excited to meet the creator.
He approached the truck not 20 yards away now that doubled as living quarters for the man both 10 and 85 at once. The one he would model, in his own manner, the character of Wayne Bruce upon later on. Builder of a whole city but derived from a mountain. This one.
“Mr Knight?” he called, not wanting to knock on the door or wall of the thing out of respect. “Yo, Mr. Knight. Big fan here. Just want a word if I could, dawg.”
Frank waited and waited. He heard sounds within. Someone was there (!). Being recreated as it turned out. Overt religious messages were fading from the truck as well as the mtn. behind. Everything was becoming alien oriented, JESUS, for example, being reconstructed as 6EQUJ5, “Love is Universal” turning into “Life is Universal”. Would he approve?
No. Mr. Night without the K emerged from the back, more devil than saint.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0043, 0401, Art 10x10, California, collages 2d, Greenup, GTA
WOW
“Do you not know me yet, Fern? I am the one you’re trying to forget.”
Fern wakes up, remembers everything.
—–
“Yellow Jack is where Philip Strevor turned back into Trevor Philips and resumed his Id role in the Grand Theft Auto game V,” explained Fern to Lichen later as the sun rose over her shoulder again. “Miss Janet was the key, and refusing to provide him service and saying he was still banned from the joint. He remembered his drug company, recalled his home in Sandy Shores. He was reassimilated, Lichen. Frank Lynn became the lead man after that, although we didn’t know it at the time. Frank Lynn, through Morro Bay, points to Nightsity. Did I explain the Morro Bay link yet?”
“I — I don’t think so, Fern.” Straw still not twirling. Still.
“But I have a new theory, Lichen my dearest,” she said, avoiding the temptation to spoon another pepper snake and mint ladder into her mouth swimming in what little was left of the now discolored milk in the bowl before her because of all the dissolved flavoring, the last of their kind. She wanted to speak as clear as a bell so that Lichen knew what was going down. “Aliens — now I believe it all points to the hippy egg camp outside of Sandy Shores and not Sandy Shores or Trevor or his trailer or business directly. A man named Night made it all — can’t be coincidence. But not with a K; with an N: the K person would not approve of equating his precious lord and savior Jesus with heretical aliens, you see.”
“I — see?”
“No, you don’t see, Lichen. But you will.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0043, 0312, Castle Town+, GTA, Omega
Sunklands 