Tag Archives: John Lemon^*~~!

rock’n 5 second commercial

Announcer: “Ono’s Octopus Balls…

… an avalanche of flavor!”

—–

“It’s great!” said character-husband John Lemon, glad to get back on the horse.

“Love the hand coming out from under a rock effect,” octopus ball recipe inventor extraordinaire Yoka Ono added.

“We’ll put it on after the 9 o’clock news,” said the network big wig behind them, not needing to look and instead studying his hand for warts. He could hear the success. “Test it out on the non-magical people first.”

“Fantastic.” John envisioned the money rolling in like batter covered spheres.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0404, Nautilus^^, Paper Soap, Wild West

more black and white

After visiting Blue-Yellow and attempting to watch his sun rise, I hop on a passing trolley and head downtown…

… soon reaching THE Cave. Or at least A Cave.

It strikes me that it would be wrong to keep calling this character Axis-Windmill in a town created by an actual German. So we’re going to go with a new one. Not reverting to Windmill Man — too easy. Bronze John looks on, trying to gauge, trying to help. He was so successful with the Beatles with an A naming.

The Beatles are such archetypes, penetrating many synchronicity systems.

All bands can be related to them. For example, Pink Floyd are the psychedelic Beatles, Firesign Theatre are the comic Beatles, and The Residents are the bizarro Beatles. Frank Zappa with his Mothers strongly reacted to them; the Rolling Stones…

I was told by fortuneteller Esmerelda a while back that the answers lie in a cave. In the related collage, cacophony musician Charles Ives pokes his head out sideways, wondering if he’ll have anything left to say. He’s sorry about Cowell, he speaks through the entrance, the mouth. He’s sorry about Connecticut and Danbury and the clashing of bands. Connecticut forgives, but he’ll have to make them laugh, make them suckers instead of seekers, and get small in the exchange. Thimble Islands’ General Tom Thumb might know, if he’s paying attention. Misery becomes Mystery (up to date).

I wonder about New York’s Central Park in the Dark, and the Unanswered Question. I think back to the Amazon jungle and the Indian who becomes a Spaceman, search fulfilled; “aliens” found — this would represent the end of the 4th. Concord (Sonata)… maybe that’s next. Oh, and Karl finding the waterfall (Rainbow) and reading the scrapbook and discovering a new ending, leading him to set aside the old life and the attached house and move on. I thought about Charles Ives today in perusing my table of tiles, wondering if I’ll get the chance to tell anyone about it besides the wife and a best friend. It’s pretty remarkable.

Here is where I’ll be reborn, or at least acquire a new name.

“Who are you?”

“Helmet Newton?” he or she answers as a question.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0030, 0110, Jeogeot^^, Sunklands^

Missing

“Beckett?” she wondered.

“Paul.”

“No. The sim. Missing Beckett.”

“Oh. Correct.”

—–

“Muse is a key word here,” she mused aloud later, perhaps for me but also others listening in, the prescient, the psychic. Like our damaged friend Kolya. There he is. Listening in.

“Hi big boy. I’m over here now.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0027, 0516, Europe, Lower Austra^, Nautilus^^, Upper Austra^, Wild West, Wonderland

allure

—–

“All gone,” she exclaims in a thick accent as Marty walks up from behind, probably Russian. “Ruble.”

“Rubles?” Marty attempted as a (weak) joke. She turns. There was gold in her eyes.

Marty checked her profile. She seemed to be an artist, or was at least attached to an art colony. He decided to head there next. Maybe they would have more information about these Ruins of Lustre off the coast of Roost. But not that Roost: a different one. One that Marty knew quite well through Lemon back in the days. Roost Never Sleeps. It’s where Lemon was formed, actually. But it all seemed a big blur now. Too much excitement; too much hot coffee; too much *speed*.

She couldn’t come. She was stuck at this centerpoint, a mere marker. “Goodbye girl with the golden eyes!” he cried while flying away.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0026, 0310, Nautilus^^, Rim Isles

identifying the issue

“*Two* Beetles instead of 3 down the road now, Mr. Archer.”

Peet Archer considered requesting, “Peet please,” again, but decided against it. Toddles had somehow shrunk down to her “normal” diminutive size during the trip into the heart of this fine Canadian hamlet, warm on an early spring day. “Who have we lost this time?”

“Lennon, it appears. Must be the same, yes, as Lemon. The lemon tree went missing from Springfeld, Mr. Archer. Shelbyvale stole.” Toddles needed to rest her wee mouth again. She put her thoughts into Archer’s brain, as she did sometimes when this happened.

“So *what* is the equivalent to Shelbyvale for our Picturetown here?” he said. They both peered down the alley with Mary York at the increasingly diminutive skateboarder, almost out of sight now. Might as well say he’s gone. There: he’s gone.

Earlier:

“All blocked up, Mr. Archer. Someone has sealed off the passage to the interior, ‘X’ed it out in effect.”

“We didn’t come soon enough,” he said for her. “We better check the 102 alley for changes as well.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0024, 0303, Canada, Canada/Picturetown, collages 2d

2(0)1

“Thanks for helping out, Charlene Brown.”

“I’m busy: but I’m here.”

“Okay, so there’s the two girls who must have seen Bart, yacking in front of the Giant Tiger painting. This would be catty-corner to you standing at the intersection of, let’s see, Main and Elizabeth. Bart should be skateboarding by you right this instant.”

“I see nothing.”

“So let’s just swing the camera around and… Charlene? Where’re you going? Come back!”

I finally spot the pink dress wearing punk again just beyond the Rosehaven Yarn Shop, about to walk under the Regent Theatre marquee. But she’s way ahead of where she should be. Where’s she going?

“I see him Baker Bloch!” she suddenly exclaimed as I pull back beside her at Main and York.

Three Beatles were crossing the road in front of me and I knew this was a special, sacred spot.

“And that’s how Bart Smipson travels between Picturetown and NWES City,” I write in a letter later to Hucka Doobie. “Through that alley with the 102 graffiti. He’s indicating how he does it!” I sign my name with love and stick it in an envelope addressed to the White Palace.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0023, 0603, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, Canada/Picturetown, collages 2d, NWES Island^

The Tall Walk

“I tell ya, Hucka. If I could just find a nice, understanding city to settle down in (like Cassandra City), I might just give up Collagesity here. You wouldn’t mind, would you?”

Hucka Doobie, walking beside Baker Bloch straight into the setting moon as well, pauses before answering, knowing the truth ahead of time like she often does. “I’d — give each equal weight.”

The moon gone, they were passing underneath Perch now. The head was still absent above them at the main entrance to the restaurant, revealing the clock beneath that brought back sane time to this virtual village of mine, me as baker b., or Baker Bloch, animus, and Baker Blinker, anima, combined. Instead: Carrcassonnee possesses it again, just like in the beginning, the great 3n1. But is she yet fully activated? What about new sidekick Frank who replaced former sidekick Spider? Where is *Spider*, then?

“Thinking of the past?” Hucka Doobie spoke over, seeing the glazed, dead eyes again. “The future inside the past?”

“Maybe.” I was a bit defensive of her prescient presence (present?) sometimes. We walked further, past Mossman’s bar, past funny feet John Lemon. We seemed to be heading out of town. But where?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0020, 0607, Corsica^^, Urqhart^

Corsican Collagesity 02

For their second “date”, Marty took Hucka Doobie to a remote coffee shop in the sky on a parcel bordering his own over in eastern Urqhart. “Bring your mac,” he warned. “It’s always pouring rain there.”

—–

“It really is raining quite hard here,” spoke Hucka Doobie, staring out.

On his part, Marty wasn’t looking at the rain.

—–

“I think he likes me (!),” she exclaimed later to Baker Bloch back at the Perch restaurant in Collagesity one sim over.

“Oh, come on, Hucka,” said one of her two oldest friends in this world, along with female counterpart Baker Blinker. They go back over a decade now. “You know he’s probably still married to Linda Halsey. And he lusts after that Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child. And he’s had an affair with Audrey, even after causing the death of her husband Jeffrie Phillips before deciding to resurrect him at her urging. In other words: he plays the fields.”

“Strawberry Fields,” responds the wise bee person. “Lemon is back as well (!). I get to meet him on our next, er, get together.”

“Still afraid to commit to calling it a date, I see.”

Hucka Doobie knew Marty and herself didn’t have a real future as a couple. She was just trying to get under Baker Bloch’s skin, see how he felt about the whole situation. I guess it seems to be working? she queried herself while staring into his cold, dead eyes, looking for signs of life.

—–

“Well?” asks Hucka Doobie after an hour. “Where is he, Marty? You said he’d meet us at Perch.” Marty still wasn’t paying attention, staring down from Hucka’s eyes. “Oh I don’t know. Probably picking up more eggs for Yoko or something.”

Lemon’s foot enters the door…

… shortly followed by his body. “Hell-o hell-o hell-o”.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0702, Corsica^^, Urqhart^

introductions

She had come to see the band but they were away. Well, Jim A. was *permanently* away, replaced by this mysterious Jim B. who was 20 years younger. And what about herself? Also 20 years displaced. It was 20 years ago today (etc.).

The Band; a make-believe one inside a real one. But the make-believe one had come to overshadow the real, like a Virtual Reality within Reality Reality begins to take over and work its powers outside in as well as inside out. Glove.

Satan.


“Hell-o hell-o hell-o.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0015, 0505, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X^

section’s end

“Personally I don’t like to look at the thing,” she spoke, facing way from the map. “But there it is. The Maebaleia blue galleries of lore. Notice — and I’m not going to turn around for this — that Cassandra City near Bluestocking is closest to The Moon here.”

“I know,” cooed the staring Heart Queen, thinking back to the previously examined map on the second floor of the House of Truth. “Barracuda. Just like in ‘Moby Prick’. Gypsies. Karoz! I’m remembering. He was there!”

“He has been disguised as (similarly blue-green) Tealy for the current run of Collagesity photo-novels,” admitted Grey Scale. “Waiting to reveal himself.”

“Now’s the time!” requested the queen.

“Not quite yet,” tempered Grey Scale, who was still in charge despite the niceties. The Heart Queen, like Chesteria before her, was learning when to keep in line; bend her own will. “Don’t cross Grey Scale,” urged Chesteria as newly appointed executive advisor. “She knows what she’s doing. Despite the purse.” They both had a laugh about the yellow handbag after that — so unfashionable, both agreed. Doesn’t really go with any of her earrings, for example.

“Then… when?”

“We have to determine the identity of Tillie, the accomplice. She may be Baker Blinker, the wife in Our Second Lyfe. Or she may be…”

“Wilson?”

“Very close.” Grey Scale turned to the Heart Queen. “Very close.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0015, 0317, Golden Sink^, Maebaleia/Satori^^