Tag Archives: Francis^*++%%

March 9, 2024 · 4:09 pm

00420301 (another VA neck)

Unable to write today he watched her from afar, wondering what she was waiting for. Hope she doesn’t abstract today, he thinks. Sometimes just doing nothing can set it in. Maybe I better go over there, talk to her, interact with her, check on her. Make sure she’s okay. Keep her mind occupied. Maybe talk about the past. And the future. But not the present. Never the present.

I wonder where this Shelley girl is, she ponders from the balcony like Juliet to his Romeo. She had an antipoison on hand just in case she made the same mistake as in the past. White Stone — check on it.

She smells the red roses and that makes her feel better. Arrive by sea and I’ll be waiting and watching, she ordered the girl who was actually a woman indeed. The Woman. Unless that’s Parasol.

Ah yes, that must be her pulling in there at the marina, she observes from her castle up on the hill. Better tell Amos I’ll be indisposed for a couple of hours.

(to be continued)

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March 8, 2024 · 10:47 pm

00420216 (original shock)

And this is where we came in.

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March 8, 2024 · 8:57 pm

gone bye bye

In this “Amazing Digital Circus” teaser, ringmaster Caine directly references Kane (Pixels) and his famed Back Room bacteria creature. Knew it.

And then there’s the abstracted Kaufmo clown character from the pilot, who some spell as Cofmo. Including me here. Poor Cofmo. But good guy (?) Caine takes care of the immediate danger for himself and his still intact circus employees by banishing the poor transmogrified creature to an underworld, underwater realm.

“Honey? Honey? Snap out of it again. Look at me look at me. Honey?”

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March 8, 2024 · 7:27 am

00420213

“King Rodney,” the Shadow spoke. He turned, confronted it.

“Me? I’m no king. I’m just a ruler of a country, democratic in nature. Now, anyways.”

“The Country of Morrow. Otherwise: Cofmo.”

“Well, yeah. That’s it. A country, not a kingdom.”

“But you train ants. I mean, you have ant warriors. In your fort — make that: forts.”

“Use to. When I was a kid I suppose. Now I’m they’re grown up. I have adult games to play.”

“So I’ve heard,” the Shadow spoke. A pause, then: “What year is it, ruler of Cofmo? I mean, can you sit in a diner with a white girl or even an Asian girl and get away with it? Can you listen to the Everly Brothers blaring from a jukebox? Or do you have to settle for Fats Domino?”

“I… don’t know. 1984 I guess. Last I checked. What time do *you* think it is? Shadow. My Shadow I’m supposing.”

“Correct. You are just confronting yourself. Because this is a dream. I know something that you need to know. About the abstracting.”

“The what?” And he woke up.

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March 7, 2024 · 4:37 pm

cyan dress, black hair: seems oh so familiar

“I’m afraid this is still 1961 guys. The little lady is going to have to sit elsewhere, hmm?”

“There. That’s better. What can I do you for today? Burgers?”

“No, nothing right now. We’ll order later when you have vegetables in salads,” commanded Wendy, appearing as if behind a shadow of a person instead of a real one.

“Suit yourself. My shift is over,” spoke Sarah. “Wanda will be over shortly to check on you. But I wouldn’t hold my breath on the vegetables. Have a nice day.” As she left with her tray of little burgers still untouched, Sarah glanced over at the space that would be a salad bar, currently occupied by a soda fountain and an ice cream counter. Sugar and especially meat would rule the day for a while, she knew. She’d worked in this here city long enough to understand that.

An Everly Brothers hit blared from the jukebox on the far side of the diner, perhaps “Cathy’s Clown”, their latest, as Wendy got down to business. “Soo… you said you know the whereabouts of the black man called Francis. Last seen here in Meat City.”

“The *negro* known as Francis,” rudely corrects Mathew, of a different color skin himself from the “norm”; obviously should have been more understanding of the situation. And why was he here with Susan in the first place?

Susan. Yes, that was her name.

(to be continued)

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January 10, 2023 · 1:14 pm

trunks

Shelley loves hanging around the beach. Arthur and she have such a great time night after night, day after day here… in Mortons Gap overall. She could see living here, staying here. A bit laggy, but they’re working on it, reducing shaders, draw distance, etc. Even minimizing screens, their view on the world, if needed. It wasn’t ideal. But — so pretty.


If she could just erase that full moon faux pas from her memory. What did Arthur do that night? she wondered for certainly not the first time. Because she’d found lipstick on his coat which wasn’t hers — she rarely uses it except when they hit the town. And the smell of lobsters. Or was it crabs? — she’d have to check the difference between the 2 later on when they walk down to the fisheries. Do it nice and subtle.

Nearby Arthur was building another one of his patented sand castles, complete with ants that he’d found on the vegetated dunes in back. He was trying to recreate the past. In truth, someone had put a spell on him. George/Musician most likely, if only from his dreams. He wanted to walk up to the real Ant Castle later that day, thus Shelley’s excuse to visit the fisheries kind of on the way. Ah heck, she’ll just ask him. Why does she care if he stayed with another woman that night. *She* was with a woman that night. Served her right. Painful, very painful, but… what was the right expression for it? Tit for tat, she decided. Or tit for tit — something.

She swung down from the palm tree, walked over. “About ready to go?”

He was about to coronate the new king and queen of the ants after building their thrones. “5 more minutes,” he requested, herding the crowd in the right direction.

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October 1, 2021 · 8:50 am

the planet’s 3rd eye

“I recall now. I am your hairy… neighbor. To the North. Remember? Like Canada. Some called us friends. Like me. Remember? Not Arthur but me. We were sent here (to Mythos) together.”

I recalled. There was lots of pain in his direction, more than mine. The US of our A had it easier. A single child (functionally). A loving *father*. “You didn’t know,” he wanted to say to me now. “You were involved… in your own world.” I couldn’t argue. At least he didn’t declare war on me, like Cofmo. Ants, mechanical ants. My grasshoppers never had a chance. June bugs bombed but all were underground.

I know why my artist friend from Our Second Lyfe was named that. For this.

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November 13, 2020 · 2:37 am

meeting

“Excuse me, sir. I’m looking for the Shanty Club. Francis? You may know him. He’s kind of the owner I suppose.”

“Meat City,” Barry DeBoy metes out. “Just up the highway.”

“Oh,” Baker Bloch exclaimed. “Is this not Meat City? It’s across the highway from NWES.”

“Nope,” Barry reinforced. “Just because it’s across the highway doesn’t mean it’s part of the city, even though this is.” Barry says “city” with some satisfaction. After all, he was there at the vote. His art definitely helped sway the deal. “Go back to the highway. Go up. Look for the stumbling drunks and head right, and then another right past Big Dave’s garage then left. Tell Francis I said hello.”

“A friend?” Baker ventured, trying to remember all the twists and turns to get there.

“Let’s just say I don’t underestimate his *aunts* any more.”

“Oh.” Baker left the small trailer without understanding. Francis explained it to him later at the club.

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October 15, 2020 · 8:18 am

y not

Investigation of Diamondfyre’s Planet X parcel coinkydinkally led me to a sim called zzz, which I assume is last in an alphabetized list of such. I sit across a small lake from a dream version of myself we’ve seen once before in this here photo-novel (22 of 20), white rabbits on her side and a bear and a red capped snowman on mine. The bear is not pissing into the lake although it may appear that way from this angle, and he will probably be pissing in it soon enough given all the beer he’s been drinking with me. I might be too if it weren’t for the female cartoon squirrel Sandy soberly staring toward us on the opposite side.

Here let’s turn the camera a bit for the next photo so you can clearly see Francis (bear) is fishing just like me, and also view the roaring waterfall marking the source of the stream that flows into the lake. Source and Lake, then, just like in that game at the temple with all the tiles, starting with The River (here).

So we sit at the beginning of TILE in effect, or the end of the beginning. We have equated this River with the Amazon, and in at least one other post, the Mighty Mississippi of our US of A. But what we are building, in toto, is obviously the Earth around The River, perhaps square shaped like the box the game Carcassonne comes in but also perhaps not. Depends on if we’re happy or unhappy maybe.

I didn’t really notice how much Sandy Chic’s head is shaped like an acorn until I photographed her remotely from behind. Good one Spongebub Squaredpants creators. And good one MAPS creators, because we have this in KY.

Squib next to Sandy Gap next to Acorn also obviously represents another Spongebub character Squibward, because the expression “damp squid” is sometimes mistakenly phrased “damp squib,” like with some in the IT profession who are smart on technology but not as sharp with words. And we already know that SS’s Spore plays an important role in photo-novel 22. In fact, there he is again at a (non-horseshoe) curve in The River representing the Amazon and/or the Mississippi (or the Nile or the Yangtze or the fill in the blank). What could he be pondering with his computer wife Karen Y.?

Of course. Plan Z!

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September 25, 2020 · 9:08 am

suburb

Toothpick’s best friend from high school Mr. Z returns to his home of Meat City after extensive world travel. Note the masks on his pack representing every continent he’s visited. Fra- Fra- Francis tells him he’s can’t get in the club because he’s not a member but he says he just wants to use the phone and he won’t look at anything he isn’t suppose to. He remembers the pay phone from days gone by. He remembers (Fra- Fra-) Francis as well, the only black kid in his 5 child class who use to train ants to wage war in his playdough fort. Good days, good times. Francis remembers them too; he lets Mr. Z pass through after a stern warning. “Don’t look at the girls,” he requests almost under his breath. “They’ll remember. They’ll report me. Don’t look at them,” he repeats and then steps aside after a lengthy, glary stare. Mr. Z recalled that stare from his ant vs. wasp battles with Francis back in the days. The wasps never stood a chance. Mr. Z promises he won’t look at the girls. He knows something much worse than ants awaits if he does. Fra- Fra- Francis has evolved beyond his childhood times into something much more adult oriented.

—–

He couldn’t help himself. He glanced over while talking to Toothpick (aka Filbert — *not* to be confused with Filburt! (he’s different)) about his journey to the Eleph Trunk and finding Venus and Mars combined into one. “Oh God,” he then sputters into the receiver, “is that Aunt Fannie over there?” He looks away quickly but not fast enough. Aunt Fannie has eyes in the back as well. He recounts why she is so named as he hangs up the phone and scuttles out the door.

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