Tag Archives: Shelley Struthers^^+++

Shining 01

—–

“Find anything in that holler down there?”

“Oh, a book. And a cave full of crystals. The book reminded me of Hucka.”

“Hucka? How do you know…?”

“I know a lot,” answered Shelley Struthers to recently husbanded boyfriend Arthur Kill, who sometimes steps out of character to play Lemont Sanford up in or toward Real Life. And now there’s a 3rd Life to deal with. On Our Second Lyfe’s computer if you know how to log in. And we do.

Arthur looked over, nodding. “The umbrella eyes, yes.” Library in her eyes, he knew. She doesn’t need the physical stuff any longer. All in the head.

“How ’bout you? Find anything? Up here?”

“Lemme think about that.”

—–

“Just a lot of monuments and tombs,” he finally answered her after fleshing in his own local backstory a bit. “One statue seemed to not have a head, but then I realized the angel on top just had her head down and the bun in her hair appeared like a, er, untopped neck.” He picked this particular monument to talk about for a reason.

They just needed a little bit of time away from each other to contemplate by themselves, why they’re here in the first place. Heterocera. Home of the *Head* Line, the Heart Line. Shelley’s old home on the former — apt. still there, actually, at the triple point in Hooktip, even if she never is. That was a long time ago for her, her Firesign period with its silly puns and innuendos. She hadn’t moved on. Just absorbed… assimilated. ‘Nother one.

—–

“Real Linden water down there, I found out.”

“Fascinating.” He found himself arching an eyebrow even. Making him think of another fake head removal, another “long long ago.” Soo many memories now. Encounter with “God.”

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numbers 02

Shelley’s head appeared directly below where Barry DeBoy should have been fishing on the pier. But it appears he’s wised up, dispensed with his pole, and headed back to the studio, realizing the futility of the act (once more). Ant may even be his best friend again, at least in his mind. And of course there’s Hucka. How much woman is she? Enough to roar?

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triptych interpretation 02 of 02

Hucka D.: In 4b, like we said before, the boy at the tree with the Tintown sign looks down at the missing letter, the missing Y that makes it Tinytown, which it is. I should also say that Tinytown no longer exists, another victim of the pandemic. Like Sissy’s most likely.

Baker B.: Good. Mortons Gap is emptying of meaning.

Hucka D.: I think you want to bring up the 2 PLACEs.

Baker B.: I think that’s taken care of in the text of the photo-novel before, Hucka D.

Hucka D.: 2 PLACEs at once (Hucka D. presses). This is another pointer leading to the triptych. It all leads there.

Baker B.: Okay, good.

“Adventures in Tintown Part 4b of Tin”

Hucka D.: 4b, then. The people with the narrow woman from 4a, most likely her family, have their faces covered by white ovals. To their right we have a ring of ghosts, also with oval white faces or heads. You made the association, thus the triptych continues to the right and not the left at first. You insert the smallest Tintown sign in the darkness behind the ghosts and the whited out face people (in 4a), a mother and her child perhaps. Maybe the narrow girl is the same woman’s daughter.

Baker B.: One of the faces is round and not ovoid. Can you comment on that?

Hucka D.: This is the middle of another simple 2 part collage that you prepared in anticipation of the triptych, although you didn’t know it at the time. The middle head becomes round, and with two oranges eyes, it appears. That’s about all I can say about it for now.

Baker B.: Thank you. Then moving on, we shift from Mortons Gap Kentucky to Tin Town Missouri, from a batch of old photos by, let me see, Russell Lee, who is famous for such things.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Russell_Lee_(photographer)

Hucka D.: Pie Town, New Mexico, I note in the article. Pietmond.

Baker B.: Right. Blast from the past.

Hucka D.: Lets move to 4c, the last panel which will bring us back to the first.

“Adventures in Tintown Part 4c of Tin”

Hucka D.: Selves, you’ll notice, in the collage, not Self. There is more that one Self. There are 3 in this collage, according to size. The second is 61/100ths the size of the first. The third and last is 61/100ths the size of the second. Although these 3 come in 5 bodies, there are only 3 heads, matching the 3 Selves. Two have been cut off. You sure that Shelley is okay? She’s very important.

Baker B.: I know — extraordinary. She’s okay.

Hucka D.: What are these Selves, then? You find them in Tin Town MO which originally was named Gold. Ronnie Self the rockabilly wannabe star who didn’t quite get there. But he lends his name to the Triptych. He too is part of this (process).

Baker B. (after a pause): The ratios seem important. If we assume a steady reduction, the first is 100, then the second is 61, then the 3rd would be 37.21 almost exactly (checks). No: *exactly*.

Hucka D.: Extraordinary.

Baker B.: Then the simple 2-n-1 collage Barry Deboy holds in the last post before you showed up for our interpretation, Hucka D. (Mortons Gap sign/ “Does this look square to you?”), is the last element inserted here, cutting off 2 of the 5 heads…

Hucka D.: But adding 2 of its own heads (nutcrackers on sign). One obviously truncated (pause). You sure?…

Baker B. (guessing what the bee-man was going to say): Yeah, she’s all right. Anything else?

Hucka D.: I was going to ask you the same thing. Oh — Bat Boy. Zebrasil. Very important. Only the ZE remains (in 4c). Flying toward the First, the largest Self, the most immediate. You.

Baker B.: Thank you, Hucka D. And we’ll work on…

Hucka D.: … Amagon, yes.

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triptych interpretation 01 of 02

Hucka D.: I will forgive you for Amagon. The three lights. Wheeler.

Baker B.: Thank you, Hucka. So you are ready to begin?

Hucka D.: Yes.

“Adventures in Tintown Part 4a of Tin”

Hucka D.: Tinytown changed to Tintown. The missing Y is spotted by a boy in 4b. This is 4a.

Baker B. (clarifying): The boy at the largest of 3 such altered Tinytown signs. The one whose head is slightly cut off in the editing process as he looks down.

Hucka D.: Yes. The blade in the background? You didn’t get to that yet. Has Shelley regained her head?

Baker B.: Dunno, Hucka D. I would assume so. Since I have her active in another window opened up right now.

Hucka D.: What’s she doing?

Baker B. (checking): She’s in the middle of Extraordinary.

Hucka D.: Ahh, appropriate. Have you figured out what she is?

Baker B. (thinking back to 4a and the altered sign): Gold?

Hucka D.: Gold and silver. And platinum. There’s something else coming up.

Baker B. (after a pause; he’s looking in Extraordinary): Okay.

Hucka D.: Are the 3 lights there?

Baker B.: Yes.

Hucka D.: Can you close the window? (Baker B. closes the window) Back to 4a (pause). Obviously Spider has returned. He’s inside the collages now. For real. He’s alive (inside of them).

Baker B.: Yes. Fascinating.

Hucka D.: So that’s one thing predicted in these photos. Can I say these photos are all taken from Tinytown or thereabouts, on the outskirts of Mortons Gap?

Baker B.: I think you just did.

Hucka D.: Kentucky, the actual one, the real one. Not Mortons Gully in Our Second Lyfe. That’s just a 1:1 match from the Oracle.

Baker B.: Good to say (again).

Hucka D.: Not much there otherwise. Sissy’s is closed. Shame. She just wanted to fit in.

Baker B.: Or, alternately, she just wanted to be included.

Hucka D.: Put a picture up of what we’re talking about.

“she just wanted to fit in”

Hucka D.: Another simple collage — 2 part. Like all of them are. Until we reach the triptych which goes round and round… and round.

Baker B.: This is (in) Mortons Gap again, just to clarify.

Hucka D.: Right. (he pauses to look down at his hands; just yellow pollen covered balls, like at the beginning; he had regressed that far) Back to Tinytown which was changed or altered to Tintown. The narrow woman is interesting: one eyed, like Leela.

Baker B.: We call her Eyela.

Hucka D.: Right. She was set up as well (by the powers that bee). That led from the original altered photo, a simple 2-n-1, with the Y dropped out of Tinytown, into the triptych. The triptych was the goal all along. Another altered sign, I’ll note, in the dark backdrop behind her — less obvious; could be missed.

Baker B.: Yes.

Hucka D.: And the bat boy… but we’ll get to him in part 2. Or part 3.

(to be continued)

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dream 00360416 (“traces”)

A mysterious red being directly beneath a towering redwood tree, extending all the way into space and a bit beyond.

Another appears in the center of a circle of pink albuca flowers (see: shoulders of Dr. Back before). Both are completely invisible to the naked eye, like outer planets.

This one is without a head, in contrast to the first. Dr. Back indeed.

Looking directly into the face of already decapitated Man About Time, Shelley struggles in vain to get away. Trapped.

Only one other blue around to help her, but she’s on a different level. She heard the screams for help, though.

Too late (OWWWW!). Although the now soul-less body still twitches.

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00360414

Geez that gray woman has been out there quite a while, Shelley thinks, having woken up in a strange camper in the sim above Mortons Gap but then recalling the story.  She could hear the crashing of the waves when she stirred, a reassuring sound. Arthur must be around. They were just too tired to walk all the way back to the hotel after visiting the Ant Castle up on the mountain, quite a climb to get to. So they just bunked down here as the sun set into the ocean, just to do something different, they agreed. “No one around,” spoke her newlywed husband. “Why not,” she replied. But that gray person… actual owner? Telling me I’m intruding on her property? Could just ask, she thought as she took another sip of coffee and continued reading the article she started, it seemed, a 1/2 hour ago. Ooo, she thought. Just there. The woman took on appearance; just for a second. Yes, staring right at me, it seems (!). Better gather up Arthur and head back to the hotel. Probably down on the beach.

—–

He comes here often and just sits and listens. “Getz/Gilberto” always seems to be spinning on the turntable, the record that started it all for bossa nova, as he learned. Steely eyed Luther stirs the patriotic soup slowly and deliberately, like an automaton instead of an actual person. ‘Nother “gray” being. And what has Clifton Mahoney got on the docket today? Well — beach. Just like Shelley and Arthur. Coming up is a collision course of information that would change everyone’s world. The Ant Castle was not what it seemed (!).

—–

Barry down at the pier would be involved too. Because after 8 straight days of angling it was about time to head home. Art studio. Just below the castle. Barry’d seen and heard things there he didn’t want to dwell upon, didn’t want to be in such close proximity to. Thus the trip into town, to the beach, to the pier. Sanity in contrast. Warm sense of people around. F-ing cold in the gray granite mountains above Mortons Gap this time of year, but not necessarily that kind of cold. Remote kind of cold, the worst type. Barry liked privacy when he painted but enough was enough. But, also, he couldn’t stay away forever, had to face the devil sometime.

(to be continued)

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trunks

Shelley loves hanging around the beach. Arthur and she have such a great time night after night, day after day here… in Mortons Gap overall. She could see living here, staying here. A bit laggy, but they’re working on it, reducing shaders, draw distance, etc. Even minimizing screens, their view on the world, if needed. It wasn’t ideal. But — so pretty.


If she could just erase that full moon faux pas from her memory. What did Arthur do that night? she wondered for certainly not the first time. Because she’d found lipstick on his coat which wasn’t hers — she rarely uses it except when they hit the town. And the smell of lobsters. Or was it crabs? — she’d have to check the difference between the 2 later on when they walk down to the fisheries. Do it nice and subtle.

Nearby Arthur was building another one of his patented sand castles, complete with ants that he’d found on the vegetated dunes in back. He was trying to recreate the past. In truth, someone had put a spell on him. George/Musician most likely, if only from his dreams. He wanted to walk up to the real Ant Castle later that day, thus Shelley’s excuse to visit the fisheries kind of on the way. Ah heck, she’ll just ask him. Why does she care if he stayed with another woman that night. *She* was with a woman that night. Served her right. Painful, very painful, but… what was the right expression for it? Tit for tat, she decided. Or tit for tit — something.

She swung down from the palm tree, walked over. “About ready to go?”

He was about to coronate the new king and queen of the ants after building their thrones. “5 more minutes,” he requested, herding the crowd in the right direction.

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00360411

Good to see you back home and safe, Mrs. Shelley,” spoke Sam the bartender. “Mister Arthur was looking for you this morning. Said he was going for a walk — Ant Castle I believe was specifically referenced by the sir.”

“Yeah,” spoke Shelley. “I didn’t come home last night. Wandered down The Trunk.” Sam nods here understandably and sympathetically, having heard this before. “Got lost.”

“Aah The Moon again,” he said, knowing it was full last night. “Did you do anything you can’t take back?”

“I…’m not sure.”

“Then you better choose. Dark Side or Light Side. And which is which in your mind. Because if you don’t, The Moon will choose for you. I approximate you have about 1 month to decide. Or 27 or 28 days, ma’am. Which *service* will you choose?”

Pretty profound words there from a bartender, but, then again, he was studying for the priesthood. Or to be a gourmet chef… choice will also come to him soon. She decides and I decide, he realizes. Because instead of praying he was cooking up a storm last night, shrimp, lobster and crab being the victims in order. “Rock’n it,” he said at one point in the heat of creativity, expertly blackening a shrimp with one hand while boiling a lobster to perfection with another. Master chef. Or not… a crab dropped out of the pan while he had a moment of doubt, fear creeping into and intruding on unconditional love. God, he thought later. God disapproves of this night.

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00360409

She was hoping beyond belief. “Tattoo parlor?” she tried, drawn in by the butterflies.

“Hair salon,” replied glowing pink haired Sep Felton, not seen in a while. Not since Wallytown, I believe.

“Any?…”

“Nah,” answered Sep to Shelley. “Too small (of a town),” she explained about the lack of such establishments. “Haven’t seen you around — figured you were a stranger.” She takes in her visitor. At first she thought: plain. Now she’s starting to reconsider. “Where…?”

“Morgans Gap,” Shelley said, anticipating Sep’s own question here. “Vacation — honeymoon, actually. Just bumming around the neighborhood.”

“Well, you’re a pretty fur piece down The Trunk to find this place (!).”

“Yeah, I guess. Got the wandering feet today.”

“Where’s the significant other?” Sep began to fantasize a relationship with the increasingly cute visitor. She couldn’t help herself.

Where *was* Shelley’s recently married hubby, if not just married? Their honeymoon had been postponed for a month because they had to find exactly the right spot to do it. Morgans Gap was the place no doubt. They were visiting a gallery in the area, heard about the Ant Castle on the mountain above the town, and the rest fell into place pretty quickly. Arthur Kill withdrew some saved money for the purpose out of the bank and handed it over to 3 1/2 star rated Hotel Higashiyama down on the beach of the town. They haven’t regretted it one moment. More role play tonight, Arthur promised. If she can get back before bedtime. She checks her online map. Dang. How did she get so far away?

“Well…” tried Sep — hoping beyond belief herself this time. “I have a spare room upstairs if you don’t think you can make it back tonight. Sun will be setting in about an hour. Just saying… trying to be hospitable. Us Marooners like to cultivate that reputation.” Which was true, although Sep knew she was trying to cultivate something else. Better end this post and check her history in the photo-novels.

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the present

—–

“I think this case is wrapped up, Pretty. *Petty*.” He turns red again. “Pretty much wrapped up,” he tried to cover himself.

“Thanks Officer Glammerpuss.”

The place will have to be quarantined for a week because of the moondust but the business should be able to reopen then.”

“Cathy will be pleased.”

“Yes.”

“Did you get all the rocks?”

“We think so. There’s one that looks like Neil Armstrong, then one like Buzz, then the other one — I assume it’s the 3rd.”

“Collins,” answered Petty to this, due to go on his other job in 2 hours and don a chef’s hat while ditching the inspector’s coat, no rest for this busybody. He reached into it to withdraw a match, ready to relight his current stogie, 8th of the night. At one point there was even 2 in his mouth at once. so excited he was about the news. Queen! Coming to Hardrock. So says Glammerpuss, the big, well, he just loves Queen. They both do! Ah heck, might as well try. Officer seems to be hinting around.

“Listen, Glammerpuss… Chuck.”

“Tim. You call me Tim.”

“Listen, Chuck. I was wondering…”

“Queen?” It just came out of his mouth automatically. Petty turned to stare into his eyes. Chief Wigwam walked up, interrupting the moment as he was suppose to. He gazed at the ribbon on the wrapped up door, symbolic of the case itself. He thought about procedure, getting ducks lined up in a row.

“Better start the paperwork on this Glammerpuss while the memories are fresh. Petty — aren’t you due to present me with a fresh dove omelet in, say (he checks his watch), 2 hours?”

“2 1/2,” states the chef-inspector to this. “Gotta warm up the oven first. Say, Wigwam, can you give us a moment. There’s just one wrinkle on the case we have to iron out.”

“It’s Collins,” spoke Wigwam. “The one they always forget the name of.”

A small smile breaks on Petty’s face. “No, not that, Chief. Something else. Just… give us a moment.”

“Oh alright. See you when the sun comes up. Glammerpuss — paperwork.” He walks away.

(to be continued)

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