Tag Archives: NODAL

00390514

Something had happened. She seemed to have grown a little again upon waking up. She couldn’t turn off the lamp beside her. She stared at cow patterns on a shower curtain.


Probably asleep still — yes, that’s it. Mysteriously, no walls in the place she decided to bed down for the night, so no secrets. She could hear everything being talked about below.

“Well guys, I’m off. Wish me luck!”

“Luck, Wanda.”

“Tammy,” Tammy corrected.

“Right,” said Doris Lelia. Wearing pink on the green couch and turning a bit red. Kellyya on the flowery chair had said nothing yet, per the script of course, or so she hoped. She (the actor playing Kellyya) didn’t exactly remember her next line. She’d have to improvise. But director Bob “Tom” Wassleburg (Wassleburg?) seemed to like improvising in a role. Not all the time of course but sometimes, if the mood calls for it. May get away with the gaff. Unlike poor Alice Flowchart (Lelia) back there.

“And how about *you*? Kellyya isn’t it?” Tammy didn’t know Kellyya as well as Lelia, who she went to school with. “Aren’t you going to wish me well on my first day of work?”

Kellyya remained silent. The actor playing Kellyya figured that jealousy would explain the lack of a good luck wish. *She* hadn’t had a bonafide job in years. And her confidence suffered for it.

“*Anyway*…” Tammy turned from the two, one on her good side and one on her shit list now. Without another word she walked out the door which didn’t exist and got on her bike, intending on riding into the next room which was also the next town. Storybrook. We’ve been here before.

“Maybe I should take a hopper today,” Tammy contemplated aloud from the bike seat, looking over at the green blue red yellow in a row and forgetting about Lelia and Kellyya for the moment. Such confusing names!

Aah yes, better! She’ll show up to work in *such* a good mood, heh.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0514, River

stranger

Suddenly, miraculously, she had shrunk down, her weight even closer to Zero now as she’s checking. Crocogator watched from atop one of the floating ducks in the distance, somewhat disappointed the tale hadn’t gone on. But Story Room calls. Residents.

The world becomes solid. The curtain closes slightly more, just a slither.

Suddenly we are in a different place altogether.


Hmph. How’d I get over here??

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0513, Colorado, River, West Virginia

Phyllis

“‘No purple,'” I said from the side, quoting from the introduction of the world famous manifesto, *her* manifesto. “Yet you sit on purple.”

“Um hmm.” She nodded.

“Is this, then, about the boyy?”

She contemplated an answer for a second, then: “Yes, this is about the boyy more than anything else. And why I chose to avoid talking about the subject, the color. The gurl too, obviously. If–”

“Lisa,” I clarified, then regretted interrupting her flow. She was, after all, a master channel. So all the TILists say that count. But this was beyond (the) four. Hard to tell how many could keep up if all this was made public. Which was, I suppose, my job.

“If only (another pause), for a contrast. Say, priceless versus highly priced, very high indeed but still a certain amount — not infinite.”

“The boyy is a pure channeler,” I dared. I had to know.

Again the pause. She was in the spotlight, as it should be. Making shit happen per usual. “Pure as in 2 separate from 1. Let me illustrate.” She shifts her weight slightly on the latex ottoman, making it squeak but pleasantly, I noted. “Where *I’m* from there is a city of the land that is as central as a heart. Named for the founder of our great land. Brightonia is its name. Yet eventually, as a center must find a circumference to become circular and all encompassing and also reflect in on itself, a 2nd great city was formed, not as big or important as the first but still two. A balance; a sidekick if you will. Necessary: a role assigned. This is the boyy. And from those 2 come all else.”

‘The great scribe Nauty of Naughtilus has taken credit for the boyy’s channel. Is this correct?”

Pause. “All things being equal: yes. The pen was neither red nor blue.”

“Describe the gurl’s role.”

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0511, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390508

Pitch eventually found Wheeler in another one of those Hana Lei lands, specifically designed for kids this go around. And that’s how our Shelley Struthers, now reverted to a child — at least temporarily — got involved.

“What happened to her face?” Pitch asked Shelley after they were able to separate away from Wheeler for some private talk. “It’s like, I don’t know, 2 things superimposed on each other that don’t belong.”

“Yeah, the blonde hair,” Shelley agreed. Then she explained that it went back to when Wheeler was underneath the chocolate all that time, lapping it up like some kind of deranged dog. “Must have done something to her complexion.”

“Hmm,” Pitch said to this. “Shouldn’t she, then, I don’t know, turn *brown* or something?” Not blonde, he additionally thought.

“Might not work like that,” quickly answered small Shelley, already wise way beyond her age. For she wasn’t really she in the hallucination. This is kind of combining several layers into one, smooshing them altogether like a club sandwich in a vise. Thus the picture of the faces in the carnival poseboard, I believe they call them. To illustrate or symbolize the change (another flattening).

But this might be better: Wheeler preparing to take a ride on the Olympia Looping roller coaster, drawn in by the 4 colors of TILE displayed all around. “TILE” she said to the attendant after he asked for her ticket. Jim Crochet Wedding Dress let her ride anyway, little voice in his ear telling him so. The Big Boss, or at least one of the Big Bosses, Wonka I believe. Or Wonky. Wonky like Willa, ha ha. OK, I’ll stop, Wheeler. So getting back to her (always her, never me it seems lately), she takes a ride, but she also calls over a companion. “Arthur, I need you Arthur,” she said in the message accompanying the teleport offer. “I need you more than ever.” Take in what happens when I trip the light fantastic, she added to herself. Because she knew she’d see stars; they were just that bonded by this point. She’d write all this up from the perspective of Edward later on, about 2:01 in the morning, she’s guessing. Always seems to be that or around that.

“What happened to your face?” he asked upon showing up.

“Never mind that, I’ll change before we start looping.” And he got in beside her, ready for a start. With her deformed mug still in place, she kissed.

“I love you Wheeler!” he shouted before the TILE colors even came into play: still on orange. All Orange, as it turned out. The rest was mere refraction from the whole.

Pitch just stood there at the bottom beside Jim, wondering what happened to Shelley as he watched blue turn into red turn into green turn into yellow to end the looping. All grown up again and gone? he wondered. He’d find out soon enough (here come the cars).

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0508, HANA LEI

00390507

Pitch woke up on the other side of the Heart of the Island forest in a mess. His head hurt. He didn’t remember what happened. Wheeler, he then recalled. She ate the wrong kind. She won’t be getting out as easily as me. He raises up a bit and looks around at the big pink doughnut he sits in, he *escaped* in. He dares to look over at the police box through the trees, envisions the girl entering it and encountering whiteness inside. *That* was his salvation. Little Shelley Struthers from Hooktip just up or down the lane. Uncorrupted. Able to resist chocolate and other sweets, no chewy gum for example. Just as pure as golden ticket Charlie before her. But what now? He can’t leave without Wheeler, he understands. She is still a part of him, despite the, erm, evil. No: misjudgment. He’ll have to go back inside. To the beginning!

“Let’s actually switch, Wheeler,” he says over when getting there just before the first bite, thanks to Shelley’s help once more. “I think I can handle chocolate a little better than you.”

“Heartburn, yeah,” Wheeler said, remembering her once in a while condition and withdrawing the object from her salivating mouth — just a bit.

“Here,” Pitch said, extending the pink one in her direction and ready to grasp the brown with the other. Can she?

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0507, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

he bats right he bats left doesn’t matter

“That was some pitch… Pitch. Explosive, even!”

“Thank you. I tried hard on that. Bit of spit, admittedly, to cut down on the Lively. Return to dead ball era, where I was *king*.”

‘Of course you were, Pitch. And Buster was a marvelous shortstop back in those days too.”

“Damm right!” Both laugh then quickly compose themselves. Serious stuff now. Library. Saving Constantynople.

—–

There he was, in Special Collections again. Looking for himself. I’ll have what I’m having and all. Self service. He already had his eye on something.

“Can I help you?” reading room coordinator Swanie Rivers jumped in, trying not to flap her wings this time despite the head, the gum. Calm and cool, like a waterfall or attached stream. *Not* a volcano or any kind of lava flow. Blue, clear, ready for tubing on a sticky ass hot summer day. She’ll let him select something and then tell him. No f-ing gum in Special Collections! But… calmly, cooly. No wing flapping.

“What’s in that more crooked shelving, those ring binders over there?” Philip believes he’s seen it in a dream. Several times in fact.

“Oh, yes, that’s part of the Merk Coolie Brighton collection. He use to work here!” Swamie told herself not to get excited and shout in the room, even though no one is currently there except Philip and her. But… he use to *work* here!

“Am I in it?” he asked, throwing Swanie for a loop. A closed one. Not-what-she-seems cleaning lady Ross C. slides through the cracks in the front door to observe.

Philip pops his gum one…

last…

time.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0503, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

dream ended

Welp, my stay on the island of Constance didn’t last as long as I hoped it would. Leaving in a week. Immediate neighbor called my town there *junk*. Another neighbor has blocked it off with a big screen. Shame. But where to next? Maybe take a little break from virtual land ownership, rent smaller places for a while? NWES City remains an option, a strong one. Perhaps the most logical one. Just like I’ve done before. But playing around with this “island-state” certainly was fun, I’ll say! Our Second Lyfe is soo mutable.

I’ll take the redecorated CROOKED with me wherever I go. And I can keep exploring the island from a distance, without all the involved money. I’ll regroup elsewhere. Though it might take a while to get back to this finely balanced point. Goodbye Myrtle and the rest! Let’s see what happens this week to tie a bow on the process.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0413, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390410

“Okay, I’m heading to the other side of the island now, Dancing Chuck, love of my eye, apple of my life.” No answer per usual. Chuck didn’t have a speaking part in this here photo-novel, 39 in a series. Philip didn’t expect one of course. As long as he did his job in the way he was manufactured to do. “And take care of Flip Flop Fish up on the second floor and the roof, will ya.” Philip always used both locations to describe FFF’s whereabouts, since he was stuck between the two, tail projecting above the roof and head and main part of the body below. Caught as much as a fish in a net, ready for filleting with an appropriate knife. But this never happened. Philip needed his energy and knowledge too much. Or maybe it was a she; he’d have to check sometime. His (or her) name I believe was… Limey. Very interesting: because quite similar to Bart’s handy tree outside his bedroom window he used to escape the house and watch the cow film in downtown NWES City, the one he reviewed in what turned out to be his now world famous addendum to the TILE Manifesto. But Philip was probably aware of this connection too, what with being a world famous figure himself, a world *creating* figure, actually. 1/2 lemon and 1/2 lime, hmm (if so). The plot thickens.

On his way up to Constantynople and the library he intended to visit to see what had been written about him within, he stops by the town’s assimilated airfield for a drink at an attached bar. This was the same establishment fully formed and approved alternate or doppelganger Shelley first met her original self and compared notes, desired eating habits to begin. “I’ll have what she’s having,” the doppelganger tested, finding it good but she would have added a bit more salt to the fries and ketchup to the chicken. Her first real meal, though. How exciting!

“I’ll have what *he’s* having.” It is happening again.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0410, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

Big Red Machine (skirted)

She could of course still summon him when needed, like during meditation. Not the meditation itself for the need but what usually came after, another afterthought of sorts, the byproduct of two souls being one. If she falls, he falls, so intertwined are their individual pieces by now. Which will inevitably happen: all things spring up and all things fall back, product of the clocks and the seasons. Always blue yellow blue yellow to go along with green red green red, if you will. A complete TILE is the only way to revolve in time. They had understood this ages ago, back when they were still kits, still in the box yet to be correctly assembled by the mother, the father. They’d tried once before, but left out some parts and the whole thing fell to Hell, a screw missing here, a joint missing there. But when they finally followed the instructions the way they were suppose to be: perfection. A girl and a boy both. Adam and Eve reborn. “I will call the female X,” the mother said, approved for such things. “And the boy: Z,” the father said, looking down on his own and then glancing over at what the wife had done, seeing it was good too. “We have done well Myrtle. My Myrtle Beech.” Sand was in his eye; he was dreaming but it was still real, just as X and Z, later Xia and Zimmy, were real. One could absorb the other if needed for protection. X could move up to Z and Z down to X. But given the circumstances of Constantynople and the arrangement at the top of the Kidd Tower, it had to be this way: Z to X. Mr. Babyface stares from his staring chair, understanding this. “Xilted,” he says, knowing it was behind him as well and no longer Zebrasil now two floors above in the alphabet. The Gods have spoken.

“Zebrasil,” he said, staring up through the transparent canopy of the bed and thinking of top vs. bottom and bottom vs. top. “Xilted,” she said in turn, pondering the same. There were degrees to it, well 3 that they could count in the current game. The 4th would represent the Null, the Void, the Absent; the return to home. Nothing to keep them apart. They were just on the surface still, first base yet to be encountered.  No sin in Cincinnati.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0409, Constantynople, Nautilus, Rank & File

00390405

I was born a boyy. My father became more famous than me. Some say he was a God. But not *the* God. I don’t think. I looked up to him. His head was in the clouds, at times I couldn’t see. I would grow up to be him [the first of many crossouts in the document], meet him. I was a boyy than grew up to be a mann. And what of dogg you might ask, the opposite of God Godd. I have no answer to that I only have a katt. Ratt. That was next.

I was born a mouse.

Bart put down the pen, still red, still bleeding from his hands. It hurt to write. He felt he wasn’t any good at it. He thought of the mouse in the film, Zero, the true hero. He was sent to bring the bull back to his father. The bull was him, he realized. He picked up the pen.

The mouse walked by the katt, not knowing what it was. The katt took chase. The mouse ran around the corner. Encountered space Was from space.

Bart thought about space for the first, real time, his true home. He saw stars. Starrucca. Starlight. Gravity called. He was sucked in. Aerial then grounded for life. He was perpetually in trouble. Often only Lemmy the tree came to his aid. His father once had a fight with it, lost his head. The boyy watched: a knife and a net. Dressed in pink, which was the style for boys of the time. His sister walked into his life wearing blue. “That’s crazy blue,” he said when she did.

He was grounded for life because of the film and because what Principal Skinhead saw that night, after the show was done, after all the people had dispersed to their individual dwelling units. Bart standing alone, no tree to protect. No shorts. He puts two hands over his parts and turns red.

He was even sent to prison for a while in his late 20s for killing a man in Defiance. He’d lost his way. Sucked up by the Great Black Swamp, as prophecy foretold.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0039, 0405, Apple's Orchard, Black Ice, Jeogeot, Marwood, Neptune, NWES Island, Ohio, Pennsylvania