Tag Archives: RED ARROW
00500612
“Okay, there’s the sign with a red arrow pointing upwards again. Thanks Leptune, you sly green and yellow corn dawg! Weren’t clowning around with the sign shadow after all. But of course I can’t travel up from here — into the sky (or *can* he?). So I guess I’ll have to follow this other arrow pointing left.”
Then travelling down the indicated dirt road leading to a small trailer park, he remembered he’d been here before. A very very important side mission in the game called Grand Theft Auto, version 5. One that requires us to help build a spaceship… or so the description goes. TBC?
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0612, GTA, Omega
00500605 (Leptune)
“Okay, turn around! And tell me why you’re here. Under that red arrow pointing downward. Straight down to this room, to *you*!”
“Don’t shoot me!” he pleaded pathetically. “Don’t shoot me and I’ll tell you everything. Why I’m here. Why *you’re* here.”
“I wasn’t going to shoot you, dawg,” says Frank Lynn back to the green clad man. A clown? he guessed from his position.
“Oh. You must not be *him*, then.”
“Him *who*?”
—–
“I would have *definitely* shot this clown in the back, not even telling him to turn around,” declares Philip Strevor in a parallel universe. “My loss,” he says in retrospect, from his position in the Realm of Death. All Knowing now; a little too late.
Because this Leptune colored like an ear of corn and then some truly had answers. He could get Frank Lynn unstuck, unglued. And Philip too. If he had the sense to do so.
Back to the current universe…
—–
“You just follow the shadow of the arrow now to find another (red) arrow, pointing upward,” he said behind him, just out of camera shot. “Then you’ll see where to go.”
“Thanks dawg!” TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0605, GTA
00500509 (… from Mars)
—–
“Well… there they are. Martian boos in equal parts black and white, amassing above poor little Tungaske from the east, buildings seemingly numbered for conquest purposes. City limits threatened to become cemetery limits; no one left to live here.
“Only the west can save them, switching dawn to dusk. Bigfoot.”
And so it went down in the small Canadian hamlet. Artists, thank gods for artists.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0509, Boos, Canada, Canada/Tungaska, Google Street View, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, New Island, NVFS, Omega
00500206 (STOP/GO)
—–
Only when planetary traveler Gemilly Niceniece looked at the video afterwards did she see the A on the rock directly below her right where she decided to stop and pan around…
… which seemingly turned into a P on the other side of it. “AP!” I called aloud when seeing the transformation from my own angle, remembering the joined letters from the day before. “What was it? The Annie Oakley case?”
“Orkley Andy,” spoke someone to the side listening in, probably W aka Wheeler, the female half of our duality with a better memory, we can imagine. “Biff Carter’s case,” she clarified more for the reader than the writer. “But connected to Oakley… Annie. Together, they make–”
“–a complete A-Z time loop,” I completed, so excited I was that I forgot who was speaking in the moment. Freed up, W/Wheeler started checking her phone. Then:
“38-AP to be precise it says here, with, hmm, 37-QZ being the Oakley Annie one… *before it*. Names reversed, letters reversed. Let’s see — caused Biff to become prematurely retired and then quickly retired again when he tried to make a comeback.”
“In-ter-est-ing.”
https://bakerbloch.com/2022/03/16/00320206/
And exactly between 00320206 and 00500206 here, we found out just later, is 00410206, where we find Biff yet again. Titled “(Biff)” even.
https://bakerbloch.com/2023/11/28/00410206/
Passengers finally unload at Bellisaria’s Shobu station at the end of the straight as an arrow tracks in the shadow of towering Mt. Sakuru, let’s keep calling it. Father Fecked’s cane appears first out of the train, calm now after all that shaking from the last 7-10 minutes was over. Should’ve pinpointed this all important location before, but better late than never I suppose. The SYSTEM speaks, I understand. Egging me forward. Just like before; just like always. TBC(!)
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0050, 0206, Bellisaria, Continent 04, GTA, Starfield
00480515 (red means stop)
The BD was over as Terrance Sr. took off her red dress at 12 and turned back into a man, ball over. I pulled the rig off my head, sat up. STB man, I recognized early on, basically at the start of it all. I must put this down in my blog!
—–
Ahh, *exactly* what I need,” thinks Philip in one of his more recent dreams as he spots it coming toward him. He then positions himself directly in front of the approaching red El Camino, freshly entering his hometown of GTAV’s Sandy Shores from the east, daring it to hit him. It screeched to a halt — big mistake, should have just plowed right through the him like a speeding bullet or something.
Philip goes to the door, opens it, drags the passenger out on the road, debates whether to smash his head in but decides not to as he has more important matters to deal with today, takes control of the wheel…
… leaving Albertville M. Spaghettiboro by way of Stockholm and Lima coughing and wheezing in the smoke of his spinning tires and belching exhaust pipe. “Little Hell here we come!” he cries about the destination on the opposite side of the Alamo Sea from Sandy Shores as the landscape wizzes by him — directly across from SS, actually. Some people call it Heaven but Philip knows the truth because you have to raise a Little Hell first, like a child to an adult. All children are spawns of Satan, he knew. Like 7th Devil up in the castle perpetually holding the bowl of patriot soup that stands in for a cement pond. Or something — Frank explained the whole 4 string alignment resulting from Mouse’s diabetic fit the other day to him but his brain didn’t retain all that much. All he thinks of is pleasure, what’s good for *moi*. Which is why he had to, in the end, be killed. By Frank or Mikie, didn’t matter that much. Death to Philip Strevor was all that both could think of. The Id to their Ego and Superego respectively must *go*. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0515, GTA
00470504
I stayed at the Roadway Inn in Big Water, Utah for the night. I knew this was the place to be when spotting these male and female cowboy silhouettes framing a red rock outside Room 605, 200 meters (or yards) effectively reduced to zero. Zeroing in, I took it.
The next day I set out for Bryce Canyon not far north of here. I intended to become one of those flying squirrels and survey the whole place by air. I succeeded, though not in the main task.
Eventually I found the actual Red Rock but it took a while. Bret helped. Said it’d been at least several years since he was up there with his ailments and all but we eventually stumbled upon the approx. 20 foot long stone at the top of a canyon cascade. Red Rock Rest, he joked about the name and suddenly became sad. I in contrast was overjoyed as hell.
Strangest thing. We saw a rabbit when walking around it for the first time which then hopped away, leaving what appeared to be its own shadow for a second. Then the “shadow” itself became animated and scurried away, being revealed as what seemed to be a large rat by its shape and motion. We saw no other wildlife while there besides birds. And these two seen were superimposed as one when first encountered. We took it as a sign. Only later did we find out the meaning.
Bret (and Sooki) soon gave me the nickname The Fly because of my prowess in the sky and it stuck like paper. Later when the newspaper articles stopped being published it changed to Airey for reasons unknown to me. In honor of someone I gathered but no one ever gave any details. A “nobody” is all they said about the person. Unlike me.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0504, Google Street View, New Mexico, Utah
from genesis to revelation
I started walking but I didn’t know where I was going. Turns out: the bottom. And, along the way, center, a place of rest called Red Rock about halfway up and halfway down. Red Rock West, as in the western states of our US of America. Or maybe I should change that to Red Rock Rest. Whatever… I’m on my way.
Lizard! I’m excited because in Nightsity which I kind of call home now — I guess – there are no wild animals left, just those rare and expensive ones in cages and tanks.
Snake! This is getting even better (!). Not a lot of wildlife but at least some. This is the only snake I saw, that’s the only lizard up there above it. Lots of birds, though. And I think I spotted a rabbit at one point but it hopped away quickly if so. Still… something!
Ahh. Red Rock West. Or Rest. Center of BD and also center of my up to down journey. It sticks out.
I later decided to ask long time resident Bret about it after reaching base camp. “Bret, I wonder while you’re mindless frying up more meat burgers that you could answer me a question.” I may not have put it *exactly* like that to the grizzled local legend but that’s the gist of it.
“Anything, Groundy,” I remember him saying as he scooped another big juicy patty off the grill and effortlessly slid it into a waiting, open bun already prepared with a big slice of tomato and a big leaf of lettuce. They started calling me Groundy after I told them I like to keep my 2 feet on the ground, as in I don’t like to participate in their unendingly practiced speed sports like skiing, skateboarding, mountain biking, and some others I’m probably forgetting. Hang gliding — yeah. And something, what was it, called suit flying… something. Like a flying squirrel they were.
Bret had seen a lot. Multiple champion of the Ryders Ridge Invitational in the early to mid 10’s — set all kinds of records, they say — but grounded himself now because of some bum part of his body — no one would tell me which one. Maybe multiple parts.
I said the name that popped into my head earlier. I was just testing him after all. Shouldn’t have expected so much.
“Red Rock West, lemme see lemme see.” He set the plate down for ski fanatic Arnold to dig into just before he hit the slopes for the 3rd time today. And it was only 2 in the afternoon. Yeah, there was snow here too. Obviously further up in the mountains but not too far. Improbably close, actually, given the warmth down here. Desert-like.
“Say you took a rest there,” he said when upright again.
“Yeah.”
“Then you’re talking about legendary Red Rock *Rest*. Yeah, *everyone’s* heard of *that*. Right Arnold?”
Chomping Arnold nodded up and down, knowing Bret was onto another whopper as he returned to his meat.
“Really?” I say innocently. He stared right through me from the grill. “Naaaaahhh. Just pulling your leg Groundy. There are 100s, maybe 1000s of red rocks around here and up in the mountains, choom.”
Choom? I think while turning red myself. Where’d he get *that* expression?
“Big, small, in-between,” he continued the chiding. “Describe where this particular red rock is and maybe it’ll jog my memory, designated name or not.”
“Up above the waterfall — or cascade I suppose. Above the canyon.”
“Any *balloons* around? Balloons identify the general region you’re in, Groundy. I take it you know that by now, though. You’ve been hiking all around here for a week now.”
A week? I think. Enough to acquire a nickname. And I recall they know I don’t like meat, like Bret’s ground beef here. So Groundy halfway comes from that too. And here I am, making myself a big fat juicy target next to meat parsing Bret. Might as well be shooting big red arrows at me like I was one of the local wildlife.
“I recall… something.” Someone waved in the distance outside the open kiosk window and I remembered. Thanks stranger!
Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0047, 0503, New York, Utah
00470113
“The 420 folder is getting too full, baker b.”
“Hucka!”
“In the exoskeleton!”
“The Atom is part of the CHRO system, which is pronounced like Crow,” she begins. “Someone had to exhibit at the Red Arrow for all this to surface again. And then there’s the ROCKSTAR direction — always the ROCKSTAR direction now.” She paused to wipe some pollen from her mouth. Hucka D. Was he even a she now?? “You went back to Red Row, found nada. Not even the bird-dog conjunction. Something had shifted. Something had, indeed, been removed.”
“The dog.”
“Actually the bird but we can assume that means the dog. As in, the dog was never highlighted (by the bird) in the first place. Nothing to be removed. No Spider.” She paused. “You’ll figure it out,” she reassured, a seemingly innocuous statement that surprisingly irritated me.
“Can I see you? Can I see where we are?”
“The maps rise up to meet you,” she then stated.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0113, New York, Tennessee
00470107
Pretty sure it starts with an Arrow somewhere in or near Nashville, Tennessee. Pointing directly to Red Row 1 mile north. Let’s zoom in (again!).
—–
It wasn’t a *spider* in Red Row I was looking for, despite these 8 shoes found on some hick house stairs. Red Row? Red *Herring* (!). No, it was a *dog* named Spider (thanks 4th human within with the remaining 2 feet, *POP*). Found just down the road — or row — being attacked by a bird. Bird dog, then? Chihuahua, I discovered.
“Get away from my dog, bird!” I called from the ’57 Chevy Kenny was driving. “*My* spider dog! *MY* SPIDER DOG, SHOOOOO!!” *POP*
Better.
I kill my now disposable chauffeur with my final bullet (*POP*) and take the wheel, leaving room for the dog in the vacated passenger seat, body dumped in some bushes at this conjunction of Red Row…
… and, er, Red Row?
Anyway, I stick Kenny’s body into the bushes better and head back to the lawyer’s office with the dog to collect my hard earned reward.
(to be continued)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0107, Cable Isle, Google Street View, Jeogeot, Tennessee, Towerboro
Sunklands 