—–
“Safe Zone… Safe Hub,” Ghost Gorilla Harambe’s always roommate, sometimes lover Hank “Halfwit” Graphite said to himself, with chosen nickname to disguise his amazing brilliance of mind. Like a diamond it is.
He was figuring out stuff again today. “128, 128,” he continues. “The portal must be (Hank turns and points) directly west of here.” He jumps back into his little red car and drives to the edge of Vilania.
“Shouldn’t be so obvious about it,” he grumbled while passing through.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0416, Mountain Lake, Omega, The Straight, Utah
“So you know now what Roger Waters and Roger ‘Syd’ Barrett are staring at. And it’s not Shelley.”
“Nope,” he answers, as in Big Nope, Safety Zone on the other side. 0-10. Slow down, slow down! 6… 5.
“Do you want to give it a go?” I asked about an interpretation. “You know this has something to do with Kane Pixels’ ‘People Still Live Here’ web-series.”
“Why don’t we bring in another,” he responded to this, and yielded to Jack Shepherde, at least for this post. We’ll see about more.
—–
“Both of these Indians are me,” he begins when entering the scene beside me, Daniel Day off for a drink at the local pub. We hadn’t seen each other in almost 2 years and then, before that, almost 10. We are practically strangers to each other by this point. But, then again, so are Daniel Day and I. Daniel Day Drink: DDD. Just like the building where he worked. And the new person worked, this Jack Shepherde with an e. I didn’t know if this would work. “Continue,” I said.
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/John_Alderman
John Alderman, also known as Isaac and Antoquan, was a Wampanoag praying Indian who shot and killed the Native American leader Metacomet (King Philip) in 1676, during King Philip’s War, while taking part in a punitive expedition led by Captain Benjamin Church. Alderman was a subsachem in the Westport/Dartmouth area of what is now Bristol County, Massachusetts. He was called Alderman because he was considered a close associate and counselor for King Philip. When Philip summarily murdered Alderman’s brother in front of him because of his dissension, Alderman changed sides and joined Benjamin Church, an English colonist who had settled in nearby Little Compton.
“The killing ended King Philip’s War,” he ended.
“And started the curse,” I added. “The whole Bridgewater Triangle thing. Alderman received his head and hand for the killing, which he would keep in a bucket of rum and show interested parties for a price.”
D.D. Drink returns from his drink. “How’d it go?” I wasn’t sure. TBC
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0050, 0414, Arkansas, Cedar Ck, Massachusetts
“XXX Dream; It’s real!” she said as he approached from the south, having checked out a bit of the new green grasslands before moving north into settled country. Right on the line he is up above. (Visiting in the) daytime of course. Biff Carter dare not come here during the night; had to remain a tether to reality for Shelley and the others under his new management. He’s *not* going back to that dirty, dingy, claustrophobic restaurant on the edge of his village. Simply no to all that, he solidifies. “Just like in Concrete, Washington,” she continued, thinking of bigfoot there, the Man in Brown, so on. People didn’t want to see but still: there he is. The last thing shot before the quintessential Google Street View car found its final resting spot atop the Eiffel Tower, one of the most recognizable landmarks on Planet Earth. Until now. He was upon her, took in her Pink again. “Check out the parcel description if you don’t believe me.” She held out her white stick cigarette. “Hit?”
“No thanks I’m trying to cut back. And: I believe you about the parcel.” Yeah, he’d checked just in case while walking up. Like I said, he had everything to lose. Had to make sure *Shelley* wasn’t dreaming. XXX it was. But he didn’t tell her this, wanted to at least exude pretend confidence in her judgement, her grasp on truths.
“Soo… have you made a decision?”
“I have. Silver. No Mosquitoes.”
“Seven, then.”
“Yeaahh. Seven.” She reflexively looked down at the pinkness all about her body. Including the part alien skin, she knew. Thanks Baker Blinker!
Biff understood this was dangerous territory and that 7 could still overtake 9 since 9 could not probably move into 10 any more, safety zone on the other side of likewise static zero. But — the exuding.
“Ready for this, then?” X in triplicate form again. She hadn’t tried this out yet. Scared she was. And him through her. No restaurant no restaurant no restaurant. This experiment better *pan* out, else back to the pots and. He made sure they were on the same page of the script down here before heading upwards. Double check, *triple* check.
It worked! Biff remained manager of music not food. He knew this triplet form of Pink would *sell*. TBC
She expelled the black from herself in another thought to be safe zone underneath the old council chambers, a ratskeller they named it. Weed caller outer Heidi (?) use to sit right over there in the place, she recalls, her spot like Sheldon. Where was councilman Sheldon Leonard these days, the big ol’ fern? Anyway, back to the bathing suit beauty across from her. Shelley Stuthers, object of desire for Albert Douglas, Biff Carter, and maybe a bunch of others. Vying for her hand. It wasn’t open for business. She continually held the 5 fingers that represented a stop sign up. “Have you seen my latest portrait?” she says to the up and down white clad double opposite her. “Just a hand; combo of 2 hands, really — hanging in the gallery upstairs, we could say. Let’s go; I’ll throw on a robe to protect us.” And so they go up to stare. Stairs work, actually, ratskeller just around the turn.
“Do you see it?” she said. “10 fingers reduced to 8 if that helps.”
White gowned Alessandra saw Toy, Play, Mine, Thing. And that became its title, attributed to Barry De Boy again since it naturally fit into his “Does this look square to you?” series, being exactly 814 x 814 pixels in size. But he didn’t like to explain the work in any detail. Later, comparisons with Dali’s last painting called “The Swallow’s Tail” would come about.
https://rosiehelendale.wordpress.com/2013/08/01/dali-art-my-personal-favourites/
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0038, 0407, Jeogeot, Newtown+
Safe Zone — where had Keith B. heard that expression? Of course: *Marilyn*. He asked about it to Jim B., currently playing the role of Alvin Jr., son of Alvin Sr. who climbed that beanstalk in Wales all the way to… some say The Moon, others: Uranus. But, as stated, we happen to know it was Mars, an in-between compromise.
Alvin Jr. listened to the query, wishing that darn phone would ring for a change and interrupt this conversation, hopefully distract Keith B. to a different topic. And why did he come down here to the ranger station anyway this morning? Must be looking for more spots to hunt, Alvin mused. “Safe Zone?” he answered Keith B. “Oh, that’s just a map that came with the station. Has nothing to do with the actual park here. Just a generic map. I… haven’t even looked at it that closely.” He peers at the map he knows all too well, pretending to see it as with new eyes. “Echo, eh?” he says, pronouncing the map name below Safe Zone. “Overrun,” he continues in that vein. He thinks of the zombies here, the Germans, but also the Italians. Came in through the portal from the Great War. “Sounds like, eh, something from a game or something, dunno.” He shakes his head, convincingly he hopes. He’s surprised Keith B. hadn’t seen the map before but that was just part of the magic of the place, good and bad. You often see things when you’re suppose to, not when common sense tells you you should. Keith B. should have spotted this anomaly of a map long ago, inquired about the Safe Zone shortly after he arrived in Paper-Soap, say. But it was the same with Alvin. *Jr.*. People kept mixing him up with his dear old papa and it irritated the *hell* out of him. He’d stopped going to church because of it. But he’d heard there was new trouble brewing over there. He decides to ask Keith — a presented tangent after all.
“Heard Preacher Zoidboro knocked the congregation for a loop yesterday,” he frames it. He knew the power of the 4 would come in eventually and attempt to topple the totalitarianism of the 3. And he knew the Monolith would have something to do with it — just didn’t know the details. Until now.
“Ah, yes,” Keith B. said back, prying his eyes from the map to Alvin Jr.’s relief. He’s going to subtly alter that thing as soon as the man from Nautilus leaves. Take out mention of the Safe Zone first. There *is* no Safe Zone. Thanks to Keith, pheh.
Turns out the congregation of the Trinity Church is split down the middle on the subject of 3 vs. 4. It’s the beanstalk all over again, thinks Alvin.
5 years ago:
“You alright up there Pops!!”
“Pops!!?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0509, Paper, Paper Soap+, Sansara
“I’m as high as you (*wheeze*) now. Let’s trade.” He hands him the chips, he passes him the bong. The cycle begins again.
Having finished chopping the wood for tonight, Greg Ogden plays on his roundabout, also going in circles but in a different way. He’s getting in the mood to paint.
In a darker perspective, rogue clown Sepisexton sits down by the small beach of the same rental unit and ponders a cry, thinking back to when she was just Sepi and Sexton all separated out. She wonders if she should split, depressing party over except for the really serious heads like Even and Steven smushed together over there on the bench behind that painted Martin rock. She decides it should be between sections 6 and 7 of this here photo-novel, 30 in a series of, dare I say it, 31? Because there will be a 7 born from 6 the way things are progressing, fer sure. Just like the last one (but unlike 28, 27, 26 before it).
Let’s see, what else here? There’s Ted, another head, on the swings that won’t swing. He doesn’t care at this point, tripping the light fantastic.
And then of course the Monolith itself towering above it all, which Greg will paint a bit later for the umpteenth time. Call it his new Treasure Hill. He plans to make bookoos of money from the art soon. Very soon, he contemplates. As soon as Agents 23 and 47 phone him back with some figures. But in truth they were just investigating his drug ring, being police and not business agents. They’d have enough evidence for a bust soon. Let’s call them Crack and Whack.
Oh, I forgot about Marilyn back at one of the teepees beside Keith B.’s cabin on the other side of the Monolith from Greg’s rental unit, just across the long and dusty road. ‘Nother one, pheh: currently plucking feathers from a hen for a new batch of arrows while Sylvester the Stallion looks on…
… make that chipping an arrowhead with a chisel and ballhammer. Um…
She turns her back on peeing Keith B. while carving an arrow shaft with a chore knife, the final tableau, wondering why he doesn’t do his business in the woods like all the other animals. The place still stinks but she doesn’t mind — she’s not the neighbor who complained (Suzzy Q, the teepee dweller across the way who up and moved day before yesterday’s tomorrow). Probably infected with the virus as well, wouldn’t you think, perhaps catching it from him. Because they were an item, maybe still are. She reminds him so much of his sister, which is probably not a good thing. She feels safe around him — her Safe Zone here — because she knows he would kill to protect her. He blacks out and another stuffed animal is set up in the woods just over there next to a cave, or perhaps just over here beside a camping tent. Like Mother.
Done (both of them). “Head’s up!” she calls. An arrow whizzes by, just missing his now forward facing abdomen and landing at his feet.
(to be continued?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0030, 0505, Paper, Paper Soap+
Stuck on a mountain, Norris waits for the train to stop and pick him up. Problem is, he himself is the train, the trees, the mountain. This is plainly displayed for others to see.
Duncan Avocado confidently enters the store, noting the colored writing on the wall. Safe zone here.
He spies what he wants on the top shelf. “I’ll take, let’s see, the policeman, the fireman, and that, um, Star Trek military robot I believe, Rootitooti or something.” He wanted to own them all, practically the entire public safety force.
“5 bucks,” she said so softly he asked her to repeat the price, which she did even fainter. He never got the cost; the train kept spinning and spinning round the small granite summit like a carousel.
One day…
Maybe I need to think about Blue Berry Girl more, since she perhaps has become more central. She’s not Blurmaid as I anticipated in this half shell at the X shaped crossroads in the heart of the Maebaleia/Satori continent, but maybe her story is more crucial. What do we know of her so far?
This is as good a time as any to create a kind of year in review post, short in nature. The virus is of course the big news in 2020, and everyone has been impacted to one large degree or another, including us. But we’ve also been more fortunate than most. We haven’t lost our jobs (knock on wooden head), we remain healthy (again with the knocks on the head), and, despite both working from home in the main, the wife and I are getting along swimmingly. I can’t imagine a couple being locked indoors together this winter that doesn’t like each other. Lots of divorces will come out of this. Loss of jobs, splitting up of families. What happened in 2020 will be impacting us for years to come.
That’s why it’s so urgent for Joe Biden and his administration to push legislation and acts through as quickly as possible to bring relief Americans so desperately need. Bring us affordable health care and education; reform the prison system and military-industrial complex. Enact *now*, as soon as possible, sweeping climate change mandates that will help us save the planet (we should be leaders on this!) and stop further catastrophes to heap on top of the ones we already face from other directions as a nation. I remain optimistic but also realistic, given the history of the Democratic party up to this point and the sheer lunacy, right now, within their counterparts, the Republicans, who remain an actual political party only in name, unable to help anyone but the rich and powerful who don’t need it. Trickle down economics is a myth by this time.
I know steps are being taken. I’m just not sure they’re enough. All great nations have their turn, then fall back and yield to others on the rise. I think this virus is exposing who we really are. We cannot be the leaders in the future with the present systems in place. We can’t just return to the “normal” of the Obama years. We’re falling behind.
OKAY, getting back to the blog and my safe zone (yea!), I’ve had a really good year there, along with lots of local hiking. I’m extremely blessed to be living in the community we do, with oodles of beautiful, protected park land very close by. This is something I’d also like to focus on this year, and years to come. Return to real life photos and art, and a bit more away from virtual stuff and My Second Lyfe. A bit — because both will continue in tandem with each other for some time.
Happy 2021!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0024, 0601, Maebaleia/Satori, X-City
“So Duncan,” requests Sid (Angus) at the Blue Feather Table after taking a sip of milk. “Continue with the report on what you’ve found.”
Duncan stared at his right red hand. “Berry… disengaged from Gaston. Berries gone. Jacob I. and Sugar Dumpling with them, but still alive in their case. Thimble *might* remain.”
“Is that your hope? Or something based on solid conjecture?”
“Former, admittedly.” He thought of the great view again. ‘Nother Sugar House. “Oh, and The Musician too,” he remembered to tack on. “At least according to Jiff the police psychiatrist.”
“Good, good. So… Duncan,” summarizes Sid. “You say these only two ‘Vila’ sims are directly linked one with the other. Core-Alena in her green car was able to successfully enter Vilania from The Straight…”
“I would like to correct you on terminology, Sid. If you don’t mind.”
“Go ahead, Duncan.”
“The Straight is shared between Reality and Virtual, so my conjecture is on the Virtual side it is the same as the 4 sims bordering Foothill Drive. This makes Utah’s Foothill Drive the east side of The Straight, and not The Straight itself.”
Sid turns to Curled Paper, who was taking notes (in his head). “Make sure in the minutes that The Straight is noted as being the same as these 4 sims, Mr. Paper.”
Curled didn’t nod, but Sid knew he would take note, as requested. One of the two librarians at The Table then spoke up, surprising everyone (even himself): “Gorilla. Mind Gorilla.”
All stared for a beat. Then Sid continued. “So…. next we have Hank driving the red car… and that’s good, Librarian 01,” he then realized. “You remembered the mate.”
[delete 1 exchange]
“Anyway,” started Sid again. “Hank, being less pure of heart, didn’t make it back to Vilania after the Fairy Forest heist but switched over to Vila… erm, *Gaston*.”
—–
Duncan suddenly recalled one other person that could remain. Heidi.
But where? Where could Heidi be hiding? At the Hideout? The intermediary Big Between?
Likely explanation. The Big Nope is the failed or closed portal, the lone “willow” at 2013.
Takes two to know, once more (1719). Safe Zone; Safe Passage.
1890’s Big Between is the observatory, neither here nor there. Core-Alena can see her-himself but not at the same time.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0215, Gaston+, Google Street View, Mountain Lake, The Straight, Utah
“Those wacky Magenta people,” Ghost Gorilla Harambe grunted from across the bay. “Always fun to see what they’re up to next, eh King Fisher?”
“Se-VEN,” squawked the bird on the sign, meaning that he agrees. “Ele-VEN,” he follows after a beat. King Fisher appears to agree even moreso today.
—–
“Safe Zone… Safe Hub,” G. G. Harambe’s always roommate, sometimes lover Hank “Halfwit” Graphite said to himself, with chosen nickname to disguise his amazing brilliance of mind. Like a diamond it is.
He was figuring out stuff again today. “128, 128,” he continues. “The portal must be (Hank turns and points) directly west of here.” He jumps back into his little red car and drives to the edge of Vilania.
“Shouldn’t be so obvious about it,” he grumbled while passing through.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0011, 0212, Omega, The Straight, Utah
Sunklands 