Tag Archives: Firesign Theater^*+

you got it: maps again

“A message to all my fans out there. Some like their Pink hot.”

—–

“This will never work, Elberta,” Toothpick states at another low point. “You’re so beautiful and I’m so… ugly. Never mind the whole brother-sister…”

“I’m going to stop you there, potential husband of mind. No, better, I’m going to *absorb* you. I want to see what happens.”

Toothpick/Filbert was at a low point, as stated. He had nothing to lose. “Take me.”

—-

“He must never find you, Ross C. He’ll destroy our little square world if he does and make everyone in it miserable.”

“Happy (*zip*) unhappy,” she sputtered.

There’s only one way out. *Become* the world, see. See me in him and him in me.”

Robot from the future Ross C. saw the truth in it.

—–

Hotgirl was freed from Misery Cabin but was unable to speak about her experience there for a while.

Old reality was flickering on and off.

She eventually made her way back to GASTON.

—–

“What we *need* to do,” old companion Domino told Hotgirl Hitgirl Hitgerl Hitgurl Hitgal while they watched piled up house band Firesign Theatre play for the 4th time tonight at the Rhino, “is to similarly change *Misery*… to *Mystery*. That’s what [delete name] indicates.”

“Shuts your trap.” But the seed had been planted.

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switch to blonde

He wandered around the streets of Apple’s Orchard in a thought haze after the engagement with his sister was back on, eventually settling into this cold seat in Dr. Rabbid Baumbeer’s still undeveloped Red Rose (consignment store?) staring at a hot spot picture and understanding that reality had changed, and that something had somehow been saved. But what? He looks at the locos superimposed against each other in both the backing and fronting photos before him to become one. Locomotives, that is. Train cars. Something had begun, something he didn’t understand. And apparently no one around him did either, Peter, Cat, Phil 02, David, no one. Didn’t matter if I said their names here. No one was listening.

Maybe it’s just Our Second Lyfe that is off-putting. I can understand that.

Doesn’t really matter to me that much because I enjoy hiding anyway. 🙂

(to be continued)

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Phils

Two realities were superimposing themselves on top of each other, inadvertently (perhaps) creating chaos and confusion. He simply didn’t know; he simply couldn’t understand. In the moment.

I’ve created the bare bones of a consignment store on my Rubi property not seen since the very beginning of this here photo-novel, number 22 in a series of 20. The first thing I decide on to fill out the 4 square emptiness is a Volvo station wagon, which definitely does *not* have two handles on its back door nosiree.

Let’s just prop it up outside for now against the building’s unfinished, plywood exterior.

Then I add another image inside that has become meaningful to me today: the collage characters I call Source (Male) and Lake (Female) — perhaps another version of Adam and Eve and the whole Apples story — *hiding* something. Like we are seeing through a wall into another dimension.


red dress

And since the Tacoma consignment store the impossible station wagon is driving by on N Proctor Ave in that first picture above is named Megs and Mo, I suppose Cassandra City’s Moes Bar is related somehow. The transparent Source and Lake image comes from M & M as well — very important there. More soon.

“Phil had the richest, most complicated sense of humor of the four of us,” said his Firesign Theatre partner David Ossman. “He loved what he called ‘the stupid’ and he could twist it into surreal pieces of head-beating comedy. His High School Lunch Menus, the Irish guy who taught how to paint like the insane, the Funny Names Club of America. He had the whole range. Bergman and Austin were really the Lennon and McCartney of the group.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0301, Heterocera, Rubi^, Washington

Fun Fun Town

“Been a while since you’ve been here Hidi. Who you hiding away from now?”

“Oh, the same.”

“Where’d you like to go today? I believe the trailer park is new since you last stayed with us.” Zack Black himself lived in the trailer park now, the residents of which complain all the time about his loud playing of Firesign Theater and The Residents. Eyeballed beings both.

“That sounds good. To begin.” Off they went.

—–

—–

“Helloooo boys. Seen any dead hookers lately?”

“Hidi Widi, as I breathe and stink.”

“Delbert,” she addressed the stockier bruiser who just talked. “Filburt”, she said to the other. “Smells like a hot piece of coal in here.”

“Yeah, mom’s cooking up some rust for din din,” spat out Delbert.

“*Your* mum,” corrected Filburt. “*My* great great grandmum.” He turned to Hidi. “We both look the same age, yeah? We ain’t.” Filburt was very vain about his youthful looks and trimmer waist.

“How old are you?” Hidi was truly curious. She guessed 60 but it could be 20 the way he talked.

“40.” Split the difference, yeah. She should have bet him on it.

“Forty-*two*,” also answered the other: Delbert. The stockier one with a beard that would make alternate Spock envious. But people round here wouldn’t understand that reference, since Star Trek wasn’t invented until sometime in the 1800’s. In contrast, Star Wars was all the rage, with 16 talkie movies so far to follow the 7 silent ones. The ones no one talks about any more. Charlie Chaplin as Yoyo (or Dada) and Buster Keaton as spittoon carrying Chewbacco. Mary Pickford as Princess Leida, the role that made her famous for a while. Until she opened her mouth for the camera and tin came out instead of gold. She was great to look at but that voice. Gene Emmett Kelly the dancing clown dumped her for another with a golden voice to match at least a silver look. Not quite Pickford but close enough. And no tin or lead spewing from her lips.

(to be continued?)

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Piera

https://bakerbloch.com/2017/02/11/48909/

“So what is ‘Billfork’ you might be asking?” then said Baker Bloch. “Well, on the audio side it’s primarily ‘Boom Dot Bust’ by Firesign Theatre. On the video side it’s the movie ‘Northfork’ by the Polish twins, Michael and Mark. As Tin S. Man alluded to, both feature towns that have to be moved in order to be saved. The town of Northfork is being flooded by a new lake. Billville is threatened by tornadoes, and also, strangely and syncily, a flood at the end, where the mayor has to turn into a fish and ‘swim, swim, swim’ to stay alive.”

Baker Bloch positioned 8 oranges around The Table instead of handing them to people in chairs like before. He was about to fill in the spaces between the oranges with lemons and limes as prescribed by the Billfork Core Diagram when chef-inspector Keat Owens stopped him. “Stand back and look what you have,” he rather commanded. “But –” Baker protested, “I haven’t finis–.” Owens interrupts him by reciting all the numbers that count: “1 – 4 – 7 – 10 – 13 – 16 – 19 – 22. And who is 22?” Baker counted clockwise as well from his south-southwest position, all the clockwork oranges, just to double check. He stared at Owens. He points at him with one of his now orange free hands.

“Correct. Here’s what we’re going to actually do next. Sit down beside me at ‘1’ and we’ll start.” With this, he had light bulb headed Curled Paper go in back and bring out the game that everyone was raving about lately over in The City.

—-

“Do I still need my orange?”

“No.”

“‘Cause I’m hungry.”

“Go ahead. You can have mine too.”

“Bravo. So what’s this game called again?”

They then built The River from certain pieces inside the box and named it Amazon.

(to be continued)

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he who holds the honeymustard has no say

“They lived by a great swamp. Today it would be called a wetland. But it was a textbook swamp. Crystal clear water, sandy bottom. Salamanders everywhere.”

I was waiting for someone wearing a trench coat but instead got Biff Carter, with only a vest. It was a nice vest, though, very retroactive and film noir-ish in a Ray Chandler type of way. I knew the man sometimes inhabiting Biff was a fan, just as *I* was a fan of the man sometimes inhabiting the man. I need to keep READing (his stuff). Honeypot — Pooh pulling. Red Umbrella: Pooh is holding in a corner as far away from centre as possible. The purple and yellow honey pot in a blue cart; noisily bouncing along the grainy, rough-hewed sidewalk of a town also in the Middle of it all. Middletown, US of A, with the Green (City) on one farside and the Gray(s) on another. Farside — another relation to the man inside the man. Fox Island. Swamp — Swamp Fox. It was all coming together. Or completely falling apart — I knew it was one or the other but didn’t know which yet. Biff Carter slid into the booth again, starting over. This was take 21. Director Bob Waffleburg was a perfectionist like his hero Stanley K. but not Stanley Kowalski. He’s different.

“I was — expecting someone else.”

“I know you were, I know you were,” he said. Biff Carter tended to repeat everything twice. At least on this take. He was tired of takes. He was ready to go home to his lovely wife Rowanda and play with his kids Sven and Duplexitous of 7 and 5 years old respectively. Duplexitous especially had skills in reading and math, although Sven was a wiz on the tracks and fields. They all mattered to him greatly. But filming paid for their swanky educations and star studded outfits and costumes. He needed to keep acting. Or at least accin, to use a Jim Jarmusch term. He makes a mental note to return to the Centerville concept and explore it more. But to the acting (or accin).

“I was told something about a trench coat. Did you forget?” Sandy Beech was *acting* offscript now. Bob told him to improvise when the moment felt right. Bob Waffleburg trusted his lead actor in this way. The 35 year old former used car salesman *using* Biff Carter for his arms and legs and torso and head and other bits right now was a bit more of an unknown. *He* was holding them back this time, not Alice Frame playing Wendy O’Donnell or something. Wait, it was Wendy something but not O’Donnell. Not yet — they hadn’t shot those scenes. That was her acting partner in that other film we’re trying to lure her away from. The one with all the Popeyes gathering together to gawk at the splashy, stormy sea. “Burger Wars” was a working name, and involved Alice Frame’s Wendy caught in a love triangle between King Winnifried Orange and Clown Renaldo O’Donnell. Then the hurricanes hit, and, yes, I said hurri*canes*, because there were two at once. (“Burger Wars” director) Chip Wassleboro tended to repeat as well when he got tired. And he wrote that part of the script about 2:01 in the morning before last Wednesday’s Monday’s Tuesday. So it was Thursday.

Then Sugar O’Cotton showed up, 10 minutes late. “Mind if I slide in?” she squeaked to now booth mate Pervimus Rex while doing just that. Pervimus couldn’t reply anyway since he wasn’t real.

“You know these spots on my blouse might look like blood stains but they’re really ketchup.” Still no answer.

(to be continued?)

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Apple’s Orchard

She glanced past Harrison Jett through the window. “You know, I thought that was Bigfoot out there for the longest time. But it’s not. It’s a man — carrying a woman. The woman looks like 2 arms.”

Harrison Jett also looked out, not impressed. After all, he was a man fused with a woman as well. He was the real deal, the Real McCoy. He told this to Charlene the punk, then asked her how the heck she got *here*. Last he’d heard, she was in Gaston.

“Well, Barry X. Vampire — *sorry* — *Jeffrie Phillips* got tired of me and separated his place from my place. Yeah, I was in Gaston for a while. Yeah I saw Firesign Theatre perform there, a house band at the Rhino. But then I started hanging around Randolph the Pirate; hanging around that Dark Peak of the two, the one without the topping Christ.

“I believe he’s called Jim in some realms,” offered Harrison about the bastard buccaneer while sipping on his mysterious Xplicit drink. She had a parallel drink, held in the opposite hand. Male and female, once more. They should clink and get it over with.

She had to ask. “Those — apples. Are they real?”

Harrison Jett looked down. Were they?

(to be continued)

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new Diagonal 02

200 200: another threshold.

180 180.

But Hucka must *really* get over to Harrison’s before the night is done. Daylight in a little over an hour. Magic opening closed!

144 144. Maybe I better call Baker over here instead.

145 145 and 144 144 respectively.

“I was just going to tell you that The Boy was not at Stranger Creek. That’s all.”

“Good enough. Let’s see what else we’ve got on this Diagonal. Maybe it is all planned.” Both laugh.

203 203: “Let me help you out here old timer.”

“You’re axed.”

204 204: Mo guest. Missouri? Mizzou?


Mount Lemmon, Arizona

203 203: “We’re just missing the mark now, Hucka Doobie. Can you hear me?”

239 239, 240 240:

240 240, 242 242: Uh oh. Something’s going on. “How can you be in 2 places at once?” I exclaimed, flipping back and forth between Baker Bloch’s and Hucka Doobie’s viewers.

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Two

“What else do you want, Domino? Audrey will be here any time now!”

“You got to go cold turkey on the turkey,” is all his nephew had to say about his supplier showing up soon. “If you lay down the needle then you’ll hear the music like I hear the music, the voices, the… ‘Everything’!”

“Still babbling on about Firesign Theatre, pheh — The *Bill*. And don’t you *dare* call me dadd-i-o (again).”

“I — wasn’t. I just want you to listenn. It’s the one after the ‘Giant Rat’ thing you didn’t like before. You haven’t heard this yet. I think you’ll like.”

Domino lays down the needle.

—–

45 minutes later, Audrey shows up with the junk. Sometimes lover Zach Black greets her with a beaming smile. “Girl, you’re just in time. We’re ready for a re-listen!”

“Great.” She lays down the supply on the bed and settles back for a long one.

“Did you know a cave is just a hole turned on its *side*?” Zach continues excitedly. “Imagine that. You gotta listen to this honey. Lay down that needle again, Domino.”

“Sure thing dadd — man.”

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Lord’s burg

“It’s time to get a form, Summerhill Nova,” The Lord said in her head, the same one that spoke to fellow Oodite Ben Wolf, and perhaps still does (more later on that — involves the *second* Bena — we’ll see what happens). Oh, they don’t call themselves that name any longer. Christians they are now. No more underground planchette movements in the middle of the night. That can only spell TROUBLE. Wegee is no longer the key. *Visibly*.

Summerhill knew full well who the Lord was. She use to rent to him. But 20 linden dollars a month and her will to charity can only go so far. *If* he returns it will be for the regular price, the one everyone else pays that stays “x” amount of time. And it will depend on the destruction of Collagesity. Just like before. And she told him that in *his* head.

I asked her about the missing wall at the Point of It All, the one where my collage formerly hung in the underground, where The Musician became Sikul Himakt once again several years back now to translated the codes and symbols correctly. She said it was just a building mistake, corrected at one point. Didn’t have anything to do with me and my art. Oh, but I begged to differ. It has *everything* to do with it.

“When you erased that wall — those *rooms*,” I explained patiently in her head, “you changed reality. Something was let loose; something was lost.”

She asked again about Pitch Darkly so I told her the full story of what I knew up until now. She was rather shocked he was in Bena. And even the older, original house in Instabar, about as close as I could get to that summit that represents the “featured” peak of the present section.

“You’ll have another Red Pepper incident if you don’t watch out.”

She was right, I realized while spotting an avatar in the house just above it. I wisely decided to delete the structure…

… delete the structure

… delete the structure. Oh heck. I can’t do it.


Blue #3 door to Sister sim that caused Baker Bloch so much trouble when he went through it is wisely blocked now by art.

She kept pressing. “What of the name Bemberg for, er, my sim?”

I said it was an Oracle thing. Like Sikul Himakt. Like Vainom Kug. I resisted saying once more she didn’t die in Vain but in VHC City, but I did segue from that into telling her there was a Firesign Theater angle to all this, involving member Phil Austin in part. Maybe in a major part. I explained the choice of the name Melder for the sim her church was in. And next door: Fharsine. “Melder points to Elmer and the underground,” I said. “That’s why you are…”

“… white as glue?”

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