Tag Archives: MURDOC

February 23, 2026 · 3:37 pm

00490412

Attracted by the smell of gunpowder and old rifle grease, Charles Anson pulls up to Rodentia’s Communal Amory and Workshop on his motorcycle, intent on going inside and buying a couple more weapons if he finds them adequate for his needs. But his attention then shifts next door to the BUFC sign. He’s seen that logo on a bucket of chicken his assistant Tony was eating on the set of one of his Gorillaz videos back in the days. BFC: close enough.

And a red motorcycle again ta boot, he recalls about the involved “Aries” shoot. He works with synchronicities and resonances in a malignant way this time (like a worm) to adjust his stream of thoughts toward this town fer sure. Noodle must be close.

Gorillaz singer 2-D wearing a red handkerchief mask at the end of “Aries”, warning everyone to be safe during the COVID pandemic. This is obviously suppose to represent Chet, or at least his golden throated singing side. The lead guitar side remains with Noodle. (TBC)

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February 21, 2026 · 7:49 am

00490411 (worm)

“Well, here we are. Spirit House. Whatever will we find inside?”

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February 21, 2026 · 7:49 am

00490410

“For Scissorrun©? It all started right here, in Rodentia.

“Walk By Night.”

“Cool. I remember walking by there at night, wondering how a place that small could have a band that large. I recall.”

“Many a night I sat here at the bar, staring at that upside down cross, and asking, ‘why why why?'”

“Because of the band being too big for such a small place thing,” I said.

“Upside down from what I anticipated, yeah. I wondered why Satan and his 666 powers had let me down so much. After all, there was the whole selling of the soul to him.”

So that’s in this story as well, I think. But I knew there was more.

“To cover up the cracks that were forming all over the place in Our Second Lyfe,” he went on. “To make it… perpetual.”

Oh, so there’s that too, I think

“Have you been around back? Have you seen the graffiti, the picture, round back of the place? Yeah, you’d think: *You* did that. To make your story come more in line with that of Gorillaz. But, no, it was there in the first place. Along with this upside down cross. This is the place.” TBC

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February 18, 2026 · 8:04 am

00490407

I seemingly had sort of finished my analysis of Indigo Parallel. I brought [Dandelion] out of that world into this one via connector Indigo Ridge. Funtastic. A base on an alien world where the mother/father planet’s rings flip every so often, just enough to remind one this is all a simulation. *Reality* is a simulation — no escape. The man inside the spacesuit seems to agree. He eyes me from afar.

—–

“Did you get the idea of the perpetual Santa outfit from Gorillaz?”

“No, they got it from me,” he joked. “Besides, it’s not Santa, it’s just Christmas, period. I stayed there. Gorillaz and its Murdoc didn’t.”

“Interesting. Soo, Santa is also Satan.”

“You said it. Not me.”

“666. Cracks coverup.”

No answer. (TBC)

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January 14, 2026 · 7:36 am

00490201 (Dixie (begin again (the red line continues)))

The Mother this time. On the opposite side of the Pineapple.

“Welcome home, Sonny, ” she said again.

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January 13, 2026 · 2:26 pm

00490115

I kick the can further down the road, see R Y B “Goth” aliens riding atop a green UFO picking up not a basketball but a man, it appears. Beamed. Jack Beamed. Father we can assume.

The buck stops there, end of a (red) line, end of a life. The green man removes his head to pay respects. Zappa was not to be engaged for the great uncle and his great nephew during this time, so is gray hidden behind green. Never mind that’s actually Ringo Starr standing in for Frank Zappa from “200 Motels”. One and the same (again).

A miniature Baker Bloch looks at 7 stones piled one on top of one on top of one, expanded from an original four. Tiny red and blue animated robots are stuck on either side, unable to approach each other and become one. Dixie.

Let’s begin again. Hands…

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January 11, 2026 · 9:06 pm

00490113 (AR*T*?)

Entering a Population Place…

… called yatt if you didn’t know any better. 319 people according to this sign. Relevant too.

Central church hadn’t changed/fixed its sign (“JESUS  S ALIVE AND WELL”)…

… in at least a year and a half. Another missing letter, like from *W*yatt.

Basketball at head of pool across st. from this church *has* been picked up (“changed/fixed”) in the intervening year and a half.

Hmm, picked up basketball representing head along side of street again…

Let’s see where this takes us next!

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March 27, 2023 · 8:40 am

fidgety (blue pill (party 11))

He was trying to stay in the present and read about horses in a row but his mind kept going back to Evelyn. Evelyn Hart. She was the center of his world; the love of his life. His name? I’m picking up on Murdochh, yess, a Middletown moniker. The plot thickens more, like a vanilla shake turning chocolate and beyond. This man was a link.

If only the toys would stay still enough for a proper portrait (dramatization).


“Stay. *Still*.”

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February 16, 2023 · 11:56 pm

Wooboostoock (Baltimore)

The 2 parts of the letter appeared before him, as if by magic. “Abra-” ended the first page and “-cadabra” began the next. Baker has much to ponder.

—–

He landed just out of sight with his out-of-place swimming trunks and beachy attitude. Arthur Kill, still confused over his role, still confused over who he *is*. Arthur? Kill van Kull, a much tamer cousin? Or, dare he speak the name, Lemont. Lemont Sanford. The overseer, the one who controls. Not him, though. Not yet. But he has to choose a cousin in the meantime. Else: this keeps happening.

—–

“*Not* here. Not on my watch,” speaks bartender Zane Tar, holding out a stop hand. “We know about the castle.”

“You *do*?” But Arthur knew he had to move on. These were military people at the bottom of it, good at digging out information. This was, in essence, an extension of Rose Heaven, where his user had gotten in so much trouble looking for the fabled Murdochh Castle of Loch Ness. “It was all a misunderstanding,” he’d said in his head to them, the collective, so many times now, a defense set on repeat.

“Actually,” he decided to say, “I’m just looking for a child named Archie,” and then took his leave. He would keep them hanging this way. Because Archie would lead them right back to “East Lynne” and confuse the heck out of them, for at least a while, until they could get their bearings. He’d check back later to see what they’d come up with in the meantime.

—–

“See you later, Clyde.”

“Good day, sir.” The policeman made a note about the HUD being missing this time. Cousin? he pondered, probably also reading his mind. Military people, pheh. But he’d try to use all that to his advantage… we’ll see.

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January 4, 2021 · 3:20 pm

Great White North

Hunter symbolically caged up on his wee island, ready to be let loose upon the world again. “Where’s that castle. where’s that castle, where’s that castle?” he yelps anxiously while leaking within, so much so that his front leaning feet are a bit submerged in water now. “2 feet, 2 feet, 2 feet!” he continued, more anxious than ever to leave this wet spot.

—–

Tech Support: “Have you tried turning it off and on again.”

“Oh… there it goes. Now… about installing Adobe Photoshop…”

—–

This tie smells so GOOD. I still can’t believe there’s 5 people inside there. And now… the bowtie. That’s 3 more!”

“Right,” answers Jeffrie Phillips to his on again off again girlfriend and sometimes wife Audrey, back for a picture or 3. “Best of both words, Pot-D and Pan-Z. The 3 to 5 ratio indicates a female to male polarity, but the, er, *spirits* within can be of either male or female persuation. It’s more an energy thing. An abstract concept.”

“Sooo fascinating.” Audrey looks around the area, sees only the gnome continuing to get tech advice from the owl. They seem engrossed in what they’re doing. She sneaks a kiss, hoping for more. A kiss on the tie, like she’s smooching 6 instead of just the one. And then she moves up to the bowtie (*smack*). 9 now! And then to her true and real lover’s lips even farther north, just over the edge (of the collar). She keeps pecking and pecking while talking about Canada. “If we move to Picturetown (*smooch*), we can take all of them (*smack*) with us and not have to worry (*kiss*) about the coming swamp monster.”

“I’m not scared of water monsters,” replied Jeffrie Phillips, wondering which direction Murdoch’s castle was from where they sat. But then he remembered all he had to do was follow the yelps of (quickly submerging?) Hunter nearby.

Hunter will save them. Hunter will save us all. He was trained for this moment in history. If he can just get off that wee island of his.

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