Tag Archives: NODAL

Two

“What else do you want, Domino? Audrey will be here any time now!”

“You got to go cold turkey on the turkey,” is all his nephew had to say about his supplier showing up soon. “If you lay down the needle then you’ll hear the music like I hear the music, the voices, the… ‘Everything’!”

“Still babbling on about Firesign Theatre, pheh — The *Bill*. And don’t you *dare* call me dadd-i-o (again).”

“I — wasn’t. I just want you to listenn. It’s the one after the ‘Giant Rat’ thing you didn’t like before. You haven’t heard this yet. I think you’ll like.”

Domino lays down the needle.

—–

45 minutes later, Audrey shows up with the junk. Sometimes lover Zach Black greets her with a beaming smile. “Girl, you’re just in time. We’re ready for a re-listen!”

“Great.” She lays down the supply on the bed and settles back for a long one.

“Did you know a cave is just a hole turned on its *side*?” Zach continues excitedly. “Imagine that. You gotta listen to this honey. Lay down that needle again, Domino.”

“Sure thing dadd — man.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0020, 0115, Heartsdale+, Missouri

Hoooverrring

Always down there looking for that extra “R”, Fanny Mae Palm Branch thought about her boyfriend/fiancee Robert Dee Generic, an Ordinary originating from Pasttown.

Ain’t gonna find it. This is *Reality*.

“And stop trying to perv on that pink girl!” she wanted to shout over as well.

Marsha “Pink” Krakow tries to decide what she wants to search for on the internet today at the nearby Wired and Wireless coffee shop.

Led Zeppelin or The Who is always a good start.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0302, Corsica, Storybrook-

back in Storybrook…

“What is this place?” SEAN asked after accepting the teleportation offer from Marsha “Pink” Krakow. What *is* that girl up to now, hum? he asked himself before clicking the button. One way to find out.

“It’s the center. *The* center. Now look at where we are. The old Perch residence. Moved away, though, like so many others. Heard he’s over in Heaven’s Gate now.”

“*I* may be next, hmph,” responds SEAN “Green” Penn. “I’m *tired* of being moved all around town. First I’m down at Southside Bay in a teal cottage. Then I’m up in town again at a *green* one. Like my name — it all builds around that house now. Trouble is, I have memories of *both*. When I, er, went out to that island in the bay. You know the one.”

Marsha “Pink” Krakow didn’t know the one and said so.

“Oh, you know, with the kind of robotic lady with the different colored eyes. Like David Bowie.”

“David Whoie?”

“Bowie.”

“Oh, you mean Buie.”

“I meant what I said, girl. So, anyway, erm, she was there. On the island. I just row row rowed my boat over there.”

“Where did you get a *boat*?” Marsha responds.

“It was just there. Underneath the teal house. Or in the boathouse I suppose. *Inside* it. Downstairs inside… ohh.”

“Anyway — can we get to why I brought you here?” Her voice was reduced almost to a whisper now.

SEAN looked around. “Where’s, um, *Olive*. She hasn’t been –”

“She’s up in the monastery for a while. Because, you know, that thing with the giraffe.”

“That’s just something she made up. She doesn’t want to hang around us any more. Thinks us *juvenile*.”

“Not true.” But was it true? “*Anyway*, speaking of Olive — glad you brought her up — because she showed me a *trick* before she left.”

“Another one?” SEAN responded, use to such things.

“Yeah. So you’ve got your advanced menu on your viewer we told you to show a while back. Don’t you?” She stared at SEAN until he nodded. “Uh huh.” He then checked and breathed a sigh of relief that he’d actually done something they requested for a change, the crazy gals.

“Well, pull that down. Go to, um, *render*, then uncheck ‘volume’.”

“Okay. Trying to follow.”

“Ho. What is *that*?”

“That, my green friend, is Kraken Hill. And *that’s* what this town is trying to cover up — *has* covered up. That’s why everyone is moving away. It’s all baloney on the surface. Hogwash.”

“Watch your mouth, girl.” But then SEAN “Green” Penn kept staring around with volume unrendered, trying to take it all in. It made sense! This was truth she spoke.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0209, Corsica, Storybrook-

jazz slang

“Real real good to see you down in New Orleans, yeah. Real reet.”

“*Well*, Marty. We’re not *going* to New Orleans as it turns out. We’re avoiding that boat, that dream.”

“Real reet, yeah.” Then bass voiced Marty stops talking to actually listen to The Man.

“Marty Marty Marty,” The Man starts again. “You should have never left Legos to make the new album. You’re not *black* enough, and I know a thing about black. Why you’re — you’re about as black as White Elvis, and that’s not much.” He points to his wig, perhaps still covering the ant saliva from before.

“Listen,” responded Marty, realizing his own hair is really the only black thing about him.

“Yes, good. Arkansas we’re at and Arkansas we’ll stay. The boat and the stream remain empty, devoid of content.” The Mann then stares at the bar. “And what about this setting? So shallow. Where’s the actual bar with a bartender and all.” He takes another swallow of Jack Daniels in disgust. If only all this were a dream.

“Silly love songs.”

“Yeah. Those too.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0108, Ashenlave, Corsica

Lord’s burg

“It’s time to get a form, Summerhill Nova,” The Lord said in her head, the same one that spoke to fellow Oodite Ben Wolf, and perhaps still does (more later on that — involves the *second* Bena — we’ll see what happens). Oh, they don’t call themselves that name any longer. Christians they are now. No more underground planchette movements in the middle of the night. That can only spell TROUBLE. Wegee is no longer the key. *Visibly*.

Summerhill knew full well who the Lord was. She use to rent to him. But 20 linden dollars a month and her will to charity can only go so far. *If* he returns it will be for the regular price, the one everyone else pays that stays “x” amount of time. And it will depend on the destruction of Collagesity. Just like before. And she told him that in *his* head.

I asked her about the missing wall at the Point of It All, the one where my collage formerly hung in the underground, where The Musician became Sikul Himakt once again several years back now to translated the codes and symbols correctly. She said it was just a building mistake, corrected at one point. Didn’t have anything to do with me and my art. Oh, but I begged to differ. It has *everything* to do with it.

“When you erased that wall — those *rooms*,” I explained patiently in her head, “you changed reality. Something was let loose; something was lost.”

She asked again about Pitch Darkly so I told her the full story of what I knew up until now. She was rather shocked he was in Bena. And even the older, original house in Instabar, about as close as I could get to that summit that represents the “featured” peak of the present section.

“You’ll have another Red Pepper incident if you don’t watch out.”

She was right, I realized while spotting an avatar in the house just above it. I wisely decided to delete the structure…

… delete the structure

… delete the structure. Oh heck. I can’t do it.


Blue #3 door to Sister sim that caused Baker Bloch so much trouble when he went through it is wisely blocked now by art.

She kept pressing. “What of the name Bemberg for, er, my sim?”

I said it was an Oracle thing. Like Sikul Himakt. Like Vainom Kug. I resisted saying once more she didn’t die in Vain but in VHC City, but I did segue from that into telling her there was a Firesign Theater angle to all this, involving member Phil Austin in part. Maybe in a major part. I explained the choice of the name Melder for the sim her church was in. And next door: Fharsine. “Melder points to Elmer and the underground,” I said. “That’s why you are…”

“… white as glue?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0306, Church of Ood, Corsica, Heterocera, Instabar, VHC City

the one

“You think he’ll go back?” asked Philip Strevor to his partner in crime Marion Harding, wearing his Gaeta V shirt for this particular shoot.

“Maybe.”

“He has to,” quickly came the reply. “He has to find that demon that killed our little girl.” His voice was becoming anxious, murderous even. Philip had not smoked any pot to take the edge off the racier drugs he was currently imbibing. Marion, in contrast, only did the marijuana. So much here! Mixed in with red wine per usual; balancing the red and the blue as he liked to say. Easier said than done. Like tragedy and comedy in life as a whole.

“Philip,” Marion tried to calm him, “have you ever thought about how we got from Gaston to here. I mean, *really* thought about it. The chain of events that leads from one to the other.” He looks around, at the other hippies milling about the place. Well, *he’s* a hippie. Philip definitely was the odd man out in this bunch. So much pot, so much booze. But the racier drugs were few and far apart. This wasn’t Philip’s place in the end. Corsica really wasn’t his continent. Gaeta V suited him better. But Capitol City and its Capitol Hill were no more. Returned to the swamp they arose from. Flattened back to the pancake prairie it started as. Pancakes… Laboratories. Marion suddenly had an idea.

“Philip, how would you like to return to Gaeta V? Just for a bit.”

http://maps.secondlife.com/secondlife/Eddison/242/165/27

—–

—–

I’m just going to have this red wine but you eat as many pancakes as you like, Philip.”

“Oh *goody*.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0018, 0207, Corsica, Gaeta V, Southwest, Twin Peaks, Twin Peaks Laboratory

Harvey

One day he came here and his beloved giant live oak tree had simply vanished in thin air. “I’ve had enough of this place,” Jer Left Horn muttered to himself. “Fran is too young and Cloe is too unavailable. Time for me to report back to Mother. The caves got my brother plain and simple. He will never be found the right way in.”

Time to look the wrong way; the only one left. Somewhere else than End of Time.”

“He’s given up on End of Time, Hucka Doobie. I’m not so sure.”

She stares over at the white rabbit merrily munching on a carrot. “Me neither.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0606, End of Time+, Google Street View, Ohio

not today

I’m very close to the answer, Axis thinks while staring up.

He turns. Very close.

He buys the “white eye” offered on top of the old drum can for a linden dollar, wears, and instantly becomes blinded.

“*Shite*.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0514, Kowloon+

Serenity again

He was just a kooky old Japanese guy on permanent vacation. But at least he brought his slippers to Rose-, er, this *place*, unlike fellow vacationer Donald Farr before him earlier this winter. He’d heard the robot play the 2 “Gouldberg Variations” in a row, a realm favorite thanks to Merry. Bookends they were, and belonged together as one. Now he was ready for Zoidboro’s sermon at the Church of the Fly Lord behind him here. Perhaps he’d meet Peter today. Parasol said he would like him. Another old dude. And spoke a bit of Japanese, even.

—–

“The world is a windshield,” Zoidboro preached through tentacle covered mouth, “waiting to take you out when you least suspect it. Take Little Timmy Flick last week over on Highway 52 behind the old Tastee Freeze. Take Thomas the Elder this past Tuesday before the last Wednesday after Monday’s Friday at the Yoko Ona Parody Museum, in the parking lot even. Yea, parking lots can be dangerous too. Central parking lots especially. To get to a Square, you must always Times something….”

Ji-San turned to the man sitting next to him and spoke low beneath the sermon. “Are you per chance Peter?”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0501, Rose Heaven-

Bellisaria

She walked and walked, further than ever until the one track became two, as it always was. And always will be. She sat down in the middle of the split to remember who she was/is/will be.

I am Tessa from in or near Twin Peaks, she told herself. Old and yet young here. Between the red and yellow in front of me…

… and the blue and green behind.

Split. Like realities.

She will not move until someone comes and helps her choose.

But then a scary bug appears beside her and makes her choose anyway. “Shite!” she exclaims while jumping off the bench onto the wrong track.

The year: ’42. She heard distant bugles. A faint smell of burnt copper was in the air. She knows which reality she’s in. And it’s not the right one. The Realm of Fear.

End of Time was a *sanctuary* she realized. Once she stepped back in the light, all was exposed for what it is.

But she must forget all this and get back to the cave. It was only an experiment, see, a dream even. Trouble is, she was heading the wrong way.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0301, Bellisaria, Grote