Hmm, he thinks while driving toward his destination today. Lookie over there behind those silos. One of those plane shadows Frankie Boy was talking about that’s actually a bird. So they *are* real, hmph.
Welp, better get to my destination and do what I’m going to do today. Revenge is *soo* sweet, he he he.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0410, GTA, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+
Holy crap! Almost dead before he even gets started.
“Mo-fo-er!” he calls after the car that almost mowed him down as he was getting out of his own.
But, rounding the corner of the abandoned Boat House restaurant he parked next to, he’s now at the sea.
Let’s see, do we want him to walk counterclockwise or clockwise? Guess it doesn’t matter. Using the power of the observer still observing, I suppose we could just dive straight into the Alamo and skip ahead in the game at this point…
… but we don’t.
Let’s head his still dry self off east not west.
Good idea in terms of psychic resonance. Because soon he encounters the shadow of a giant plane that isn’t present.
Only a bird as he looks up into the sky to check where the sudden darkness came from.
He figuratively if not literally scratches his head (and his hinny?), then continues. Like Superman he feels he can accomplish anything this bright day in late April’s May — endless possibilities — with not a little help from the reefer he smoked before driving out here. Good ol’ Trevor Philip. He’ll kind of miss him when all this is said and done with.
If only the smell of dead fish wasn’t so strong.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0409, GTA, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+
Suddenly he was underwater again, although still staring at The Sphere. This was the center of his submerged Alamo Sea town!
Like Jack before him, he found himself staring at himself…
… as he went inside.
Further…
And…
… gone.
“What just happened here??” cried the observer of the observer from his control room far above it all. Time to send in another.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0408, GTA, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, Nevada
It was time to stop monkeying around. There were lands to explore, places to visit. I *may* be moving away from Aisle of Palms this month but still not sure. If my rent wasn’t so darn cheap, ha…
Nevertheless, I have a new area of interest on the Jeogeot continent: its largest inland sea with an interesting little town to its northeast called Juho (where Trevor/Philip is pictured playing around above) and another large region to explore to its east — directly se of Juho — named Scire Gaea Park, an older and more established set of linked parcels. And that’s just what I’ve found so far.
Most importantly for Trevor/Philip in the moment, this inland sea doesn’t *stink* like the one he lives near up there in Grand Theft Auto V called Alamo. He can ignore such limitations as bad textures and lack of proper distance sighting for a bit.
He turns in his tracks and then remembers he needs to find Jack. Jack the Dogg. Last he heard he was hanging with a bunch of airplanes at a hanger down on the south coast of Nautilus. He has a landmark, thanks to [delete name]. Monkeying around over, as I said. Time to act like a man now and remain upright and beholding to others of his own kind.
“Thank Gods you’re here, Trevor-Philip,” says the middle sized orange plane representing the present Jack, as opposed to the larger future one and smaller past one also around. “Quick. Get in and stabilize the timeline before I dissociate again.”
“I’m here for you, buddy.”
And then they were up in the air, heading for The Sphere. Not far past that mountain up ahead.
It’s spotted us! Philip thinks. I mean, it’s spotted me and himself. Time to bail, which of course was the plan all along. See ya Jack! Hello Jack!
“GREETINGS,” it said simply and plainly enough, popped out a bit from its base in comparison to the Jeogeot version pictured toward the top of this here post. Along with developing a sort of face obviously for speaking and seeing purposes. But that other one was just a copy all along, a mere reminder for Trevor/Philip’s true purpose in Our Second Lyfe. To find *this*. “LONG TIME NO SEE,” it joked, now looking around the vicinity with its huge peepers for the crashed, dead version of himself.
Perfect.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0407, Jeogeot, Juho, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Nawt Vaya+, Nevada, NVFS, SG Park
Philip Strevor finds something inexplicable in the waters of the sea. How could I have missed this before? he thinks in his diving suit while gawking around at what appeared to be a sunken town of alien design.
He sensed it even projected a bit above the water’s surface. *Everyone* should know about this.
Philip wakes up.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0405, GTA, Jeogeot, Nautilus, Nawt Vaya+, Rim Isles
With exactly 50% of the 1:04:58 length video named “Comfy Driving Around the Alamo Sea” behind us and exactly 50% to go, we find this statement by the maker at 32:29, saying he estimates there’s a 50/50 chance his car is still where he parked it up the hill several minutes back while he investigated a lighthouse down at the coast. And not derezzed like many vehicles when you leave them even for a short time in the GTA V game.
Btw, the car was still there. But there’s an equal chance it wouldn’t be according to him. Reality split. Fork in the road, as they say…
… where later in this same video, the maker, through his chosen avatar of Trevor, parks this same intact auto, a red Chevy El Camino as I’ve checked, to witness a crime being committed resulting in several shot people, perpetrators and cops alike. This is where he decided to peel off from the Alamo Sea loop and not complete what the title alluded would happen. *Around* the sea, it said. Okay, disappointment, but the guy was a freewheeler as he freely admitted a number of times in this and the other GTA V video he’s created that I found online. Anyway, *we* indeed intend to complete this loop, if on foot if not by car — which might be better anyway; can look at more details of the sea itself — through another video which hopefully stays truer to its very similar title. This one. We want to get an in-depth look at this Alamo Sea, dive into the subject matter as it were. I’ve honed into it as a place of special significance to this blog and attached photo-novels, 45 being the present number we’re on. What secrets does it hold underneath its gently waved water? and so forth. Circumnavigation first, though. *Hopefully*.
I’ll report back to you about my find or finds, if any.
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0404, GTA, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+
My study of Osamu Sato’s 1998 LSD Dream Emulator game and the setting up of this mini-museum to it in the attic of my Aisle of Palms “Big Victorian House” seems so long ago now. It was only April. So seems my heavy involvement with Our Second Lyfe, whose influence is undoubtedly fading from this here blog and attached photo-novels, 44 1/2 in number now (a long journey!), as more modern and much better looking games like Grand Theft Auto V, Witcher 3, and especially Cyberpunk 2077 and its humongous Night City take more and more of both my daytime and nighttime attention. But also, My Second Lyfe is not dead. Just *concentrated*. Think that’s the best way to put it. It glows bright blue to me, a square in the middle of everything still, a house-like home base sitting in the center of a large yard, with GTA V lying green to the west, C2077 red to the east, and Witcher3 yellow to the south (also taking the shape of a square unattached to the first (like a garage or large shed?)). This what-we-can-call expansion is happening now, but it also happened long long ago, in what seems like a different lifetime over 50 years back now. Aisle of Palms is my virtual village that represents the launching pad for exploring these post-Second Lyfe worlds, beginning, really, with Red Dead Redemption earlier this year, before the influence of the 3 likewise newer games I mentioned really started kicking in. A link from this far far past to the present in this way is MONKEY.
Monkey City = Lost Sanos
There I said it, Mother. Monkey City *is* relevant to all this. But I think she sees that now.
This is probably where I’ll first virtually incarnate beyond Our Second Lyfe in the near future. A good guess, given this snapshot of GTA V’s original monkey mosaic 1 1/2 photo-novels back taken by Trevor (beginning of 44) coupled with a snapshot of a *different* Trevor — recently dead — wearing monkey brand underpants in the Badlands desert of C2077 from later in the same photo-novel. Maybe hard to explain but I definitely think the two images from two different games are linked.
Why GTA V (Lost Sanos) over C2077 (Nightsity) then for the incarnation? I’ll have to think about that explanation and get back to you.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0045, 0401, Big Woods, Bright Moon Cottage, C2077, GTA, Jeogeot, LSD, Natural World, Oooo, RDR2, Witcher
He spied the 4 colored lines running parallel to each other and knew he was in the right place.
Now to figure out which color was *correct* for the next selection. Train lines, Philip Strevor originally thought…
… until passing yet another poster advertising The Bleeder and realized it was not green, not blue, not even yellow he needed, but red, as in dripping oozing cow blood red. Not a train line but good enough, yum.
He exits the train station and resets his course to the nearest Burger Shot for a quickie meal. Maybe even hold up the place so he won’t have to buy it, ha.
“What’s *he* doing here??” utters Grant Price the janitor as he watches him exit his taxi and walk toward the door he’s cleaning.
Collision, I’m assuming. Of realities. Might be human blood here soon to go along with the cow.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0305, GTA, GTA old
I see the Wall the Wall sees me.
—–
“Find anything?!”
“Gold!”
“Yeah, it’s out here!” the silhouetted man calls back from the distance.
“Just laying around! Like rocks!”
“Yuup!”
“So why aren’t there…?! I mean…!”
“Why aren’t there more people around, then?!”
“Yeah!”
“Because it’s fool’s gold you fool! fool’s gold you fool! fool’s gold you fool!”
—–
Fern wakes up under the umbrella the color of TILE. Desert dreams. Badlands. There’s actually only her out here… and Billy, who doesn’t really count since he’s a 3-4 foot, chrome plated mechanoid. He observes with bright, electric blue, pupil-less eyes her awakening not 3 feet away, out of the shade and into the sun. If he stretched out in place, he could almost prop his shadowed, robotic feet up on her torso. “Hi” he metes out as is his duty, and adds a little glinty morning salute to his sunny smile. “Cereal and milk has already been poured in that order. Just like you like.” He winks and his smile also appears to glint like his arm did before. Fern checks her watch (not on her arm?). 9 o’clock. She overslept by an hour and Billy was ready at 8. Can’t blame him for the sogginess then, pheh. Just following orders. She makes a mental note, to add to those orders, to rouse her at the appointed time and not let her sleep late. But for this morning, limp Toasty-O’s Snakes and Ladders pepper and mint flavored breakfast in heavily colored red and green milk to make gray it is.
He washed Fern’s bowl without water, using the sandpaper hand attachment #4 to do the job. Ceramic would hold up under this finer abrasion, he knew. But what happened to all the water? He had produced soo much of it with his endless waterfall toward the end of photo-novel 44, the last installment in our series and also perhaps perpetual it seems. At least I don’t see an end anywhere in sight using my future vision. I’ll switch it off now; back to the present.
After being unable to sand out a particularly persistent stain in the required time according to his inner clockwork, Billy cusses in his peculiar robot vernacular (“Nuts and Bolts!” I believe it was) and throws the bowl into the gorge next to them and proceeds to fashion another from the local clay. Will take him all morning, Fern reckons. Time for her to explore the hills around here without being followed everywhere. She’ll enjoy the isolation.
In the middle of the desert which was also its edge, she soon comes across this military grade helicopter, not so much landed here as crashed — both at once. Philip Stevor was working on one of the broken landing wheels presently. She approached, recognizing the figure. But why was he *here*? In the desert? Outside Nightsity?
“Cpt.,” she said about 10 feet away, unnoticed in approaching the chopper and addressing him the way she always did. He drew his gun as he stood up and spun around. Not drunk this morning, it appears, Fern thought. Impressive! Must have done a required stint in rehab.
“Oh,” he said, relaxing and putting the gun away. “It’s you, phew! So many bad things out here in the Badlands. Guess you came here through the portal — don’t mind if I keep working on the chopper while we talk, I hope. Gotta get out of here asap. I can take you with me. If you’re also stuck out here in the middle of nowhere for reasons still unknown to me.” He turned only his head now while the hands were still busy with the wheel. “Are you?… stuck?”
Was she?
Was I?
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0045, 0106, Badlands, C2077, South Dakota
“So I drove up to this shed in the middle of freak-n nowhere, knowing there was something inside I needed to see.
“And then when I get out of my car and went inside, I see… him.”
“Him?” said Frank Lynn.
“Monkey? Dawg?” said Philip, trying to guess.
“No, Philip. No animal in this one. It was a man. But a man made of green: a solid green man. I’m not talking about someone wearing just a green shirt and green pants or even a green body suit. Green — top of the head to the bottom of the feet. And *glowing*.”
“Freaky,” said enraptured Frank Lynn.
“O-kaay,” uttered Philip Strevor. He needed to get some meth ready for a sale tonight, he thinks in the back of his head, but it can wait a little longer. He wants to see this through. In the moment, he even tries to focus a bit, which is rare.
“He starts to describe who he is,” continues Mikie. “Said he was actually made of uranium and that he was from the planet Uranus. ‘Both?’ I asked. ‘Both,’ he said.”
“Maybe he wanted you to think he was a piece of glowing sh-t,” offered Philip.
“Maybe,” said Mikie. “Okay, so then I remembered I had a Geiger counter on me — don’t ask me how. I switch it on — in my head somehow; something — and the thing registered off the charts, way too dangerous to stand very close to. So I backed off, planned my escape. Just then he turned into something else, like he was picking up on my fear. A human. Maybe — I don’t know — to be more on my level or something. Some kind of mind meld, mind you.”
“Huh,” said Frank Lynn.
“Hmph,” said Philip, shifting his feet and starting to truly get impatient. Just a little more.
“He was, I don’t know, trying to tell me something. He wanted me to know how he got here. Or what would happen to him if the wrong people found him. He was afraid, get this, of white people. He was green; they were white. Like, er, you and me Philip. But not like Frank Lynn, who’s black instead. He said he wasn’t afraid of black — specified it. Just white. Unless white combines with black to turn gray.”
“Listen,” said a now quite confused Philip. “I’m outta here; gotta measure out some drugs for a deal. I told my dream, I listened to yours, Frank Lynn, and I’ve listened to Mikie’s here long enough too. Green man in shed. Radioactive asshole or something. Got it.”
“Don’t you want to know if the white people catch up with him, dawg?” said Frank Lynn to Philip Strevor, who was already walking away.
“Nah, I’ll leave that story with you and your outstanding blackness,” he waved off while leaving the scene.
(to be continued)
Sunklands 