Basically like clockwork, Earie passes Jiff’s abode a couple minutes beyond total darkness. 7:30 tonight, but winter is coming and the days are getting shorter. Tomorrow he should pass at approximately 7:29, the next day 7:28, and so on until time turns around or he leaves the sim. One day Jiff will follow the punk to see where he goes, but right now he needs to get some sleep. Jiff’s usually in bed by about 8 and rises around 6. Sometimes he even sees Earie pass the other way. Then it’s off to work at the Gaston-Berry Police Station as staff psychiatrist. A new and troubled male inmate has just arrived who goes by the name of Wilson. Pretty face, though. Maybe that’s the screw’s turn, Jiff ponders, knowing other information. Maybe this town demands too much from its citizens.
Tag Archives: Jiff
“I have it pulled up over here on the Blue Feather tivi screen,” Hucka Doobie messaged to Baker Bloch.
“Come over here instead,” he messaged back. “Context. I’ll offer you a teleport.”
“Alright,” Hucka Doobie messaged in turn.
“Peculiar room,” said Hucka Doobie, looking around. “Narrow.”
“It’s the GHHI Room. Don’t ask me what that means. Yet.”
“Something to do with the 4 empty sims at the Jeogeot infohub I’m assuming, where trees are ferns. I know the initials.”
“Yeah,” admitted Baker. “So here it is. Here.”
Hucka Doobie turns around and immediately jumps into an examination.
“Your aim is different from Peter SoSo’s. He’s focused on fulfilling the train line. Your own attention veers off to the right here, toward the forgotten waterfall. Aim Falls, we can call it. The Ickles, the two green beings in the collage — one at the bottom of the stairs with what appears to be Jiff (?) and the other to his right, directly below the falls — are aiding you. Yes, I’m getting it. Jiff is also an Ickle, but of a different species. Round head instead of cubic. Multiple expressions; five total. But color sticks… there must be 3 species: red, green, blue. Combined they form pitch perfect expression, a whiteness to douse the black away. Heaven over Earth. Man over woman even, perhaps.” He stops there.
“Well, there’s those little red people to the bottom right, Hucka,” Baker Bloch chipped in. “Right behind and around the wastebasket filled with Rocky’s discarded drafts for his second novel. Maybe they sprang out of the refuge.”
“Refugees,” uttered Hucka Doobie. “Whatever happened to ‘G’? Ginger, wasn’t it? Or was it Tina?”
“If you mean the tender of the bar across the road, she appears to be gone. 4th citizen not here any more.”
“Missing again,” ponders Hucka Doobie. He scans the collage one last time. “Well, it’s pretty obvious. You must aim toward the falls, find out about the 3 Ickle species, and go from there. Jiff must be real again in this novel and have the ability to manifest. The green cubic hulks Rocky also writes about and then discards are obviously Ickle representations as well. He knows them and they know him. So: location location location. 3 of ’em. 3-n-1. ‘Nother one.”
“My line. But: thanks!”
In related news…
… Peter SoSo was resting on a bench near End of the Line after a particularly difficult day of working on the Lapara train system: trying to smooth out some pesky car turns and pondering what to do with The Void, as everyone seemed to like calling the pitch dark link between the town’s upper and lower realms. He then fell sleep and dreamed that a second, somewhat smaller top hat appeared on top of his own, and then a fishbowl with two clownfish atop that.
He woke with a start, suddenly understanding how to fulfill the train system. It involved pitch perfect balance.
But the realization would take time. Luckily he was a patient mer-man.
Old Mabel took a break from studying about The Beetles upstairs at The Table to hang with Jiff again. “Did you know John Lemon hated the sound of his own voice and asked his producer to smother it with ketchup?” she asked at one point.
“No I didn’t know that,” Jiff replied in his high pitched, wavering voice from the vase he put in place yesterday. “My turn in the chair again.”
“Why don’t we just sit together.” She was feeling more comfortable around him all the time. Peculiar: she doesn’t usually take to people like this. But there was something familiar about Jiff the Minoan, who could be both man or woman by the way, depending on the week.
“Alright,” he agreed, and joined Old Mabel in the blue retro seat. “Ahh,” he exclaimed as his little body sank back into the upholstery.
“There. That’s better,” said Old Mabel. “Best we both sit in this comfy chair, eh?” The proximity seemed familiar again — what was it about Jiff? Certainly not a physical attraction.
Seeming to pick up on Old Mabel’s thinking, Jiff said in a playful manner: “You couldn’t possibly fall for another refuge half your size?” His eyes gained a devious twinkle.
“No. I’m already taken, if not exactly in the present. Baker Bloch is my friend in the here and now but soon to be more, I feel. We will eventually become man and wife. I sense this. I *see* this.”
“Oh,” Jiff simply said back, expression changed.
“Here, let me brush your hair again,” Old Mabel then spoke, trying to smooth over the awkward moment. “Such beautiful hair. You say this is a traditional Minoan style? Tell me about your people again — if it’s not too painful.”
“It’s like I said before,” he started, quickly getting over the disappointment and remembering who he *really* was. Deep inside. “The portal opened up and we came through. Demos, I mean, *demons* were already there. Holiday demons mainly. Satan Santa and Snowmanster. Cookie the Crumbler. Mean dudes. But we outnumbered them, by a great margin. More and more of us poured through. Eventually a truce was made — Unch the Walky Tree wrote up the contract. The line between Rubi and Minoa was drawn.”
“What happened to the Rubi demons?” Old Mabel then asked. But Jiff was looking at the Blue Feather’s front door, mouth agape.
“What’s wrong?” She stared with Jiff toward the door.
“Nothing. Just thought I saw something pass by. Couldn’t be, though.”
“Who or what do you think it was?”
“Hold on,” he said and walked to the door, then peered down Old Cannon Road toward the woods. Just as he suspected.
He crossed the line again.
The next day gave us the first official or at least semi-official meeting of The Table. Present were Wheeler, Baker Bloch, Tin S. Man or Dr. Blood, The Librarian, Curled Paper, Hucka Doobie, and then Old Mabel subbing in for a sick Salad Bar Jack. More was wrong with the famous Mmmmmm than he let on, however. Baker Bloch also seemed to stand in for Karoz Blogger, although no mention was made of that during the gathering.
Wheeler called the meeting to order at 7pm sharp. Following clockwise introductions ’round The Table, eyes turned to Baker Bloch, who attempted to give a brief and to-the-point review of their joint user baker b.’s audiovisual synchronicity “3 Friends of Belleville.”
“It’s much like ‘Dark Side of the Rainbow’,” he started, to which Wheeler quickly injected that they would look at that most famous of audiovisual synchs directly afterwards. “On the audio side, it’s simply the first 3 songs or tracks of Gentle Giant’s 1972 concept album ‘3 Friends’, unaltered in respect to playing time and order but with small breaks between filled in by other music. This would be several of the Erik Satie pieces most of us listened to last night (‘Sports and Divertissments’).”
“Is this 1972 BL or AL?” asked Old Mabel, who had studied all night in preparation for the gathering and was eager to make a strong showing.
“Neither,” answered Baker Bloch. “Remember we’re dealing with the Real World and its Real Time now. So this is 1972 A*D*, which stands for ‘After Death’, that is, after the death of our lord and savior Jesus Christ.”
“Never heard of him,” said Wheeler, trying to move the meeting on. “Old Mabel — and the rest — please refrain from asking questions until Baker finishes his report. Continue Baker… so I know these 3 tracks or songs from this Friendly Giant group are overlaid atop the movie ‘3 Friends.'”
“No,” corrected Baker. “The *Gentle* Giant *album* is named ‘3 Friends.’ The overlapped movie is ‘The Triplets of Belleville,’ an animation released several decades afterwards. A decade being 10 solar years,” he immediately tacked on, seeing more confused faces. Old Mabel wanted to ask about the relationship between these 3 friends on the audio side and the triplets on the visual side but held her tongue.
“The Satie pieces from (‘Sports and Divertissments’) also come in a particular order in the synch, but not 1-2-3, like the Gentle Giant tracks. Instead the pattern is 8-14-2, which, if you’ll notice, forms a *triangle* — another 3 or triplet — of numbers 6 apart.”
“These are the shocks,” injected Wheeler again, breaking her own stated request.
“Yes, I suppose so,” answers Baker.
“Which we’ll also talk about in ‘Dark Side of the Rainbow’. So I think that’s a good segue from one to the other. Anything else Baker Bloch?”
“I suppose not.” He straightened the numerous sheets of his report on The Table and placed them back in his black attache case.
“666, eh,” then states Wheeler reflectively as she searches for the appropriate Youtube video on the meeting screen. “Again.”
Exactly 4 minutes after the start of “Dark Side of the Rainbow”, a sepia toned Dorothy in the 1939 classic “The Wizard of Oz” fell off a pigpen fence while talking to farmhand Zeke about courage, timed exactly with the end of the first track off Pink Floyd’s seminal “Dark Side of the Moon” album (“Speak to Me/ Breathe”).
“This is not just *a* fall but *The Fall*, Baker Bloch explained afterwards, pausing the video here. “This is where true synchronicity kicks in. We are now witnessing something different; not from around here but from elsewhere.”
“Satan?” offers Wheeler.
“Biblically speaking,” answers Baker Bloch. “But this is resolved, it appears, in a later synch called ‘Quadrospirited’ and the beginning of (not TIDE but) TILE. Another song exactly 4 minutes long is involved. A song called ‘Four Minutes’ itself by a member of Pink Floyd again.”
“Oh dear, I need to run,” says Wheeler out of the blue, looking at the clock on the wall. “Nautilus seas and Doreena and Yvonne and such. Baker Bloch, if you would, please wrap up the meeting and then gather everyone downstairs to meet Jiff the Minoan, fresh from the woods. He’ll take over from here. Ta ta once more!”
She vanishes. Baker Bloch looks around The Table at the others, seeing a mixture of confusion and boredom. “Should we continue?” he offers.
“Nah,” states a yawning Hucka Doobie. “Let’s go meet this Jiff creature and get it over with.”