Tag Archives: NODAL

October 3, 2025 · 2:03 pm

00480301 (“An Averaj’e Day”)

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=iz7OIOXfkMM

“Tell us a little about yourself, Peppre?” I asked after she changed into her day clothes, always hot pink in the mix.

“OMGosh, where to stort! I’m a 28 year old man-woman — emphasus on WO-man! — who lives in a house on the edge of Wubble — Wubble, so RAD! — and drives a teen-ie ti-ny yellow bog! See?!”

“Yes, beautiful vehicle, Peppre, wide yet short from this angle. And I know from the phone call that you’re going to pick up your friend Sunsalt and head to the mall.”

“OMGolly not TODAY Miss Molly. I’m headed for another dear froend of mine, Bugnet, who owns Funcy Ass Fwok. I’m going to get me a hot!”

“Hat, yes. But I understand you have no money, Peppre. You spent it all for those bronze statues of naked men surrounding your pool out back and at other various locations around the property.”

“OMG IDC. But first I’m going to spon some whalies in the moll’s parking lot! That’ll teach you to not have any specials today on hots J.C. Ponney!”

“Very impressive. And you didn’t even hurt anyone in the process.”

“OMG, NooooOooo. Always look ot my sorroundn’gs. NOT a killer cor. Just a cor to kill for, haha. See whot I just did thar?!”

“Well, I have to ask you this Peppre, since it’s a subject of the current photo-novel that we’re in. What do you think of the present war against trans people by the right? And black people and gay people and people of color in general and homeless people and people without children and people who do not believe that Jesus H. F. Christ is the f-ing lord and savior of our country damn you and will save you from the eternal hellfire of the grave? Especially someone like *you*!”

But I pointed at nothing since Peppre had already broken into Bugnet’s store and stolen her hat and was indeed heading back to the mall. Guess she changed her mind.

Better run and catch up with her.

(to be continued)

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September 10, 2025 · 8:32 am

00480113

“I guess it was inevitable you show up.” He pauses as he looks over at his oft-times wife, now a ratcatcher complete with backpack cage with a couple of rats in it already. But not of the right kind.

“Yeah, I was attracted by the literal version but disappointed. No one home.”


Earlier: *Knock knock knock.* “Hello?! Anybody here?!”

“Soo now… an actual hole,” said Newt. Both stared over at it, Ratcatcher (aka Wheeler) with her useless rat catching devices for the job and Newt with his useless fishing rod apparently, just slung under his shoulder for looks by the look of it.

—–

She waved goodbye to him but he was already gone. Too laggy for him to stay logged on too while she entered. But not the fault of the sim. Probably my modem or something. Router. Anyway… inside.

—–

Eventually she found CENTER.

And directly above — still at center, mind you — a pawn shop named Escape with a browser named not Rat but Mouse. Doctor too.

That might be it, she thinks while panning up and peering into it.

“How much for this red dress here?” Mouse asks Wanda the shop attendant, pointing toward the object with his cane to indicate desire per usual.

In synchronicity, she then spots a blood stained hand poking out from a split bag of trash.

(to be continued)

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September 8, 2025 · 2:26 pm

00480111 (Rodentia!)

I don’t think there’s any mixing of words here. This place represents anti-establishment and anti-authority to the hilt! Witness this statue of a beheaded king straddling the corners of 4 sims, a centerpoint of focus. We must begin here to understand all else in the pretty huge metropolis which not only includes most of these 4 sims but spreads over a lot of 2 more as well. Much much larger than The Burg featured in section 03 from photo-novel 45; much larger than Nawt Vaya’s Juho, or Sunklands bordering Newtown, or even west coast NWES City probably, which I’ve considered the largest city of the Jeogeot continent until this point. We the Baker Family have our work cut out exploring this place and resolving its internal story. Might take a large part of a whole photo-novel this time instead of just a section. Maybe a whole one? Several? One way to find out — leap in again!


How did they know I was a stranger? thinks Wheeler.

(to be continued)

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September 7, 2025 · 6:54 am

00480107 (front, and back too)

“I got my first full blown color tattoos right here in [Dokken Hollow]. Eddy, my Edward, was also my tattoo artist of choice. In that way and more. Butterflies,” she elaborated. “Red green blue, like the primary colors.”

“Of light,” I tried to pinpoint. “Not the Earthy pigment kind.”

“That’s correct. Combined to make purest white. That’s the navel. But there was also yellow; the gold chain that came later was predicted. This represents, you could put it, my connection with the Mother Sphere — Earth as you say. I am from this Earth and to the Earth I will return. The body is temporary.”

“Of course,” is all I could think to say here.

“Eddy — my Edward again — said the butterflies are the fish released at the core center. They work my way up one leg to here. He said the fish should not continue, poopooing the idea I came in there with. He said fish should be paired or countered with birds — can’t remember which one he said now. But I do remember the ‘aha!’ and the sticking up of the index finger in the air to also indicate he had a brilliant idea. Come to think of it, the yellow was already there too. He said he needed to release the Earth. You are from the Mother, he said. But you are not *of* the Mother. You are your own self, (in) your own sphere. Butterflies should do the trick, he said. Birds would be too busy, he went on. Butterflies are simple — pure flight indicated. Less Earth. Yes, he said, let’s look at some patterns and I can have the whole thing done in an hour, 2 hours tops. And so that’s how I met Eddy.”

“You mentioned several tattoos. Several full blown color tattoos.”

“Two, yeah, I flipped over after that and he did the back as well. A tree, but with the same colors, mix in a dash of orange this time, a dab of purple. I basically had to take my tank top off. And that’s how it all got started. I have no excuses. I’m just telling you the way it went down. At last.”

“Amen to that,” I say.

[delete 3 exchanges]

“Afterwards, he said he was closing at 5 because the band would be starting soon and he can’t take the noise. He pointed backwards, to the wall; toward the Bang Bang (Bar). I lose some business that way, I also remember him saying. Drunks coming in here from the bar, wanting to mark up their body in some way, in some fashion, often to keep up with the Tom, Dick, and Harrys of the world. Or compensation. OR — Tomasina, um, let’s see, Diedra I guess, and then Harriets to end all that (laugh).”

“Of course,” I say again. “Female to male.” I wondered if the mention of Tom was accidental but that’s just how my mind works these days.

(to be continued)

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September 4, 2025 · 1:19 pm

00480106 (pets pet)

I’d like to think this is my family. Father mother son.

And over there where the mother is staring? Baederwood. I have that much.

Now to find Dr. Tom who has information about the 2 Hills. Maybe a gardener too?

Let’s start here.

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September 1, 2025 · 7:32 am

00480101 (new month, new photo-novel)

“Who are you? And what are you doing here??”

——

“He said he was this guy. I’m telling you Frank. These walls are haunted!”

“Simmer down, Philip. Say he *gave* this to you?”

“Yeah; just dropped it into my inventory and then vanished. Said he lived here. He’s lived here for a long time. Behind the fireplace; in the walls. Watching. This is a colored version of him where I saw a white one. But I know they’re the same. And… sorry about saying the word colored,” he apologized while looking over at his black friend, who took the mention in stride. “Like black-and-white and colored TVs I suppose,” Philip needlessly continued the apology. “No harm meant.”

“Watching, huh. Creepy.” Frank didn’t believe Philip’s story but was just going along for the ride.

“Like I said, Pierrot’s the name. Edward Pierrot. Said he died here or something, then mentioned Alabama. But now he’s back, he said. Like the Alabama Phoenix, whatever that means.”

“But… Phoenix is in Arizona. Dawg,” he added to make it more authentically him.

“I don’t know. But I, um, might not be coming up as much, Frank, to be honest with you. He’s *watching*. How can I play pinball in peace and escape all the stress of the world if I know *that*.”

“Truly an issue. Well, tell you what, Philip. I’ll dig into it, maybe hire some kind of exorcist, you know.”

“Really?” exuded Philip, still not catching on that Frank doesn’t believe anything he’s saying. “That would be *great*, bud.” And he punched him on the shoulder to show his gratitude and then excused himself, saying he’s late for dinner with Lexi down at the sea. He still didn’t like Frank to call Nawt Vaya a lake but Frank doesn’t do that much anymore. He’s caught on too. He likes it here! No dead fish smell, etc. Much better than the Alamo where it/they came from. “Remember the Alamo,” Philip likes to say. “And then forget all about it,” he adds the punchline, the joke of it all. Alamo > Nawt Vaya. Fate, they’ve determined. Lexi too in her own special way and special place manner.

After he went home, Frank continued to stare at the painting Philip left behind. Frank can’t return it immediately or Philip will see it show up in his lost and found folder and maybe get wise to his little game. So he just moves the thing up into the ceiling so he won’t have to look at it all the time. He’d have to talk to Lexi about Philip’s new issues first chance he gets. Maybe an extension of the ones we’ve seen him saddled with in photo-novel 47 — just completed in the nick of time for its end of August deadline, yay!

https://bakerbloch.com/virtual/sunklands-2025-middle/


Another Edward Pierrot from a land far removed now (Mythopolis).

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July 26, 2025 · 4:11 am

00470413

“Why yes I’ll accept your goblet of wine almost naked and equally tall Colossus before me, ha ha ha.”

Shelley Johnston Struthers wakes up drooped over her laptop, realizes she’s got to finish the current photo-novel before August 31st or overdue. Hiding the tempting body evilly illuminated by the black hole sun behind her, she gets back to it.

—–

“It’s YOUR fault, you know. The death of Susan here. You killed her!”

“No, YOU killed her!”

“Did not!”

“Did so!”

“Did not!”

“Did so!”

—–

Oops. 7 o’clock already. Time for Newt to watch TV with Wheeler. Better say my goodbyes and head out. Maybe for the last time, PHEH.

(to be continued)

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July 22, 2025 · 8:16 am

00470410

“And so that’s how the crash occurred, and for what reason. You should have figured this out long before. Blue Boy.”

Blue Boy? he thought. OH, she thinks I am…

—–

… a different person now, thought older and more mature Newt. I am no longer Pepi – Can – Kolya, he counts them off individually on his desk beside his steampunk computer, old like him but still quite functional for his needs. He likes the way the dimensions of the monitor seem ideal to display full screen versions of his blog pictures (for example).

“Sir? (pause) Sir?”

“Oh yes, young Fink,” he finally comes out of his daydreams and acknowledges the boy’s presence. “Heading home again?”

“No sir. Just arrived. It’s 4 o’clock.”

“Oh.” Newt looks at his watch; still not on his arm, though. 4 indeed. Not 7. Where didn’t the time fly? ha ha, he thinks with a laugh. “Heading upstairs, then?”

Yes sir,” said Fink. “With your permission of course.”

“Of course — our arrangement. You show up at 4, go upstairs and use my attic computer for 3 hours, come back down here and say goodbye at 7 along with a bit of a chat, and then you return to your treehouse home to do stuff with pal Jake while Wheeler and I enjoy our TV shows before my bedtime.”

Fink was thinking: he and Wheeler have different bedtimes? Interesting. But of course said nothing about this. Instead:

‘Yes sir.” And before he took his leave he decided to remind Newt that the mechanical contraption Bimbo from their native land of Oooooo will FINALLY be arriving tomorrow afternoon after a 4 month delay.

After a significant pause while Newt still stared at the screen before him, he said, “right, right,” and moved to shut the door on the young human. “You’ll excuse me, Fink. Sensitive material on the computer now. Not for young eyes. Goodbye. We’ll talk at 7.”

And then he went back to his desk to have a bit of a weepie. He’ll miss the fellow!

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July 18, 2025 · 5:38 pm

00470407 (Mine, man)

She’d finished her shooting. She’d put back on her finest cashmere robe. This was the result, proudly hung in the hallway leading down to Newtown’s Ratskeller. Barry De Boy’s self proclaimed magnum opus “Toy Play Thing Mine”, part of his “Does This Look Square to You?” series, being exactly 814 x 814 pixels in resolution. And directly kin in this series to the similarly square foldup of the “Foxtrot” album cover by Genesis from ’73 we’ve just seen back in post 01 of this section, also associated with Shelley and the request by new SC librarian Miss Ouri for her to come out from under the lamp and “get big” before them, which she refused to do as was appropriate and logical and decent. ’73: a good year for progressive rock albums indeed. Magical. Spread out centerfold in that case here:

The corresponding folded out version of “Toy Play Thing Mine” has been lost to time, which is in all likelihood for the best as well. But we do have this from “Foxtrot” again, specifically the long and epic “Supper’s Ready” track from side 2, as a kind of indication to what is going on. Green-Gray perpetual war results here again…

We now know that that “Foxtrot” described location of a plateau full of green grass and green trees with Narcissus gazing lovingly at his reflection circles back to this:

And its slowly but surely increasing number of *toys*.

Careful with it. Carefull. Very precious it is. And perhaps fragile. One long gust of wind from the real world all around could eradicate the magic and the spell. Make sure the colors are out of sight as best as possible, white here included. Hide the growing toy avatar village of Flathardt on the edge of this green plateau well. Do not put stuff like blue roses more toward the makeshift path than runs through it all as a possible tipoff to its presence. This is enough of a blue rose case already without such a physical marking. Flatness like this at the head of a hill does not occur naturally. Keep that always in mind during visits and updates.

Now if only the daily mountain rains would stop, UUGH.

(to be continued)

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July 13, 2025 · 9:10 pm

00470404 (another manifestation)

She had to take Ice Cube’s and, by default, Eraser’s spot in the contest since she effectively eliminated both at once in that scene with the crusher from several posts back (“Apple!, Orange!, Banana!,” SPLATT). But it took some time for her to wake up from this comfy red white and blue US of A tinted picnic blanket and remember all this, YAWN. The prepared Playboy magazine with the girl representing naked truth about to be revealed from beneath another blanket helped. Pure glinty, ruby red it was now. Like her. All she had to do was fully wake up and take a gander inside. Because this was actually her new paired teammate Bookie, here for the cause.

“WOW-za. That’s ME??” she says to him after opening to his Center. Then she unfolds to see even more….

Wheeler and Newt soon join them in the gawking, Alfred and Jim too after the latter stops fishing and fulfills the requirement for no rules breaking from a teammate. Our teams are forming. What other characters will be paired together in this here Town of Newt to continue the Battle, this Newt-Town: Newtown? Like New York except different, since that was Section 02 and this is Section 04. Harmonized none-the-less, I feel. Not planned, though. Just happened. I won’t say hmm again but it is implied.

(to be continued)

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