Tag Archives: Steve^*++

February 7, 2026 · 8:01 am

00490312 (sideways (foreshadowing))

Q:

Are you Happy?

A:

Yes, I am Happy.

Q:

Pleased to meet you. Is everyone around you Happy?

A:

Let me check.

With this, he sees beyond himself for the first time. He sees… a gallery.

—–

“My Second Lyfe is over, Philip,” he spoke to the pillow at his bosom. “Banned. I should have never descended from reality to this *illusionary* place.”

“No, Philip,” says the pillow, because they both have the same name, one taking turns with the other as in any good ventriloquist act. “The energy of Rose Heaven here has entered the sphere of Rodentia and lives on accordingly. And Rodentius of course, the male at the center of the feminine circumference in this case. That’s why he has that bit of brown to add to the predominant white. That’s the rogue brown Thornwood sim here. I’ll take it from you.” SLIIIIIDE.

Philip, the bigger one still clutching the littler one, turns in his chair at the noise. “Oh,” he says staring over at the back corner of the Rose Heaven Yarn Shop he sits in the middle of on his own little island. “Another case, eh?”

“Yes.”

Happy stares too, knowing a certain book is involved, perhaps a journal. Philip turns back into Jeffrie. TBC

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0049, 0312, Apple's Orchard, Jeogeot, NWES Island, Rodentia 02, Rose Heaven-

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February 6, 2026 · 9:22 am

00490311 (Steve)

I had circled back to the Newbank sim on the Newbrooke continent of the Bellisaria series of continents now dominating the “center” of the Our Second Lyfe worldscape, determined to make more of the experience. Plastic Man — I had that much. Friends Pig, Bully, Father and Son — they’re still around too. But Plastic Man quickly turns (again) into elastic armed Peter Oesso impossibly reaching through a window to an espresso machine 12 feet from him and procuring himself a drink. We’re at the gallery just north of Newbank now, with a corresponding increase in realism. As a newborn starts to recognize the world around him and the difference between father and son and mother and daughter, so we have the appearance of 2 brothers here, one 5 years older than the other but still the same age. And, as we’ve also seen, a third brother who is the same age but even 5 years older is involved, his Penn station being the center of virtual Paperville alternately Pageville where we can get Peter Oesso’s friend Bardie some pens and perhaps pencils to write his words down with. And, queerly, Second Life Freeze Dry is only 2 miles south in the Pennsylvania equivalent. Maybe we’ll visit a variant version of that real life business soon too.

Back to the action…

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0049, 0311, Arkansas, Bellisaria, Continent 04, Pennsylvania

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February 6, 2026 · 9:11 am

00490310 (the truth)

“It’s suppose to be a representation of the Red Room from Twin Peaks but, as you can see, it’s not quite finished yet. Gotta get that zig zag black and white texture for the floor… and so on.”

“Really nice, Wheeler,” I say, wondering again why she hadn’t shown me this before. “And the painting — I assume it is a duplicate of the one over in Salty’s, in the old storage area behind the cooking section.”

“Or the same,” Wheeler answers. “Maybe this painting is in the past and the one over at Salty’s is more in the future. Or visa versa. Depends on if Arthur is still tied up over there. And I think he might, making this the, um, future?” She looks over at me. “But you’re not Arthur. And we haven’t made a deal yet. Better get over there, then.”

“Okay,” I said to end things here. Because I was never really here without her. I wanted to talk about the old core of avatars and her role in it. Baker Bloch — me, in essence — came before Wheeler. Baker Blinker came before her. Baker Blinker is more me than her. And then Hucka Doobie came along to make an original three. Hucka Doobie is of course the spiritual guide for the blog and attached photo-novels as a whole, although she hasn’t been in the recent ones as much. That might change. Then there’s Karoz, kind of my blue-green alien brother, if I am the same as Baker Bloch which I mostly am (Whitehead in Da Woods). Then and only then manifested Wheeler, and, at first, she wasn’t who she is today. All that changed with the photo-novels, 2 if not 1. She came… in 2. All the rest were there long before even 1. She was the last who became the first. Arkansaw.

But we never got around to that discussion.

I watched her disappear up the stairs and then I did too.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0049, 0310, Arkansas, Jeogeot, Kummiho, RDR2, Rea, Rodentia 02, Twin Peaks

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February 17, 2017 · 8:53 am

The right way

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“It’s time we do something with this TILE Temple,” states Baker Blinker to the always awake Carrcassonnee.

2 minutes and 43 second later: “Yes.”

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—–

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“How come you never removed the collages from SoSo South?” asks Hucka Doobie about 15 minutes into their rendezvous later in the evening. “I thought they were causing too much lag.”

Baker Blinker came up with an excuse. “I think the appearance of Jerome T. Newton changed all that. Him and Keat Owens.” She peered through the opening to her right. “Speaking of whom, where is he with our clean cups he promised. Coffee’s getting cold.”

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“And Steve over there” begins Hucka Doobie again, looking north now. “He’s only a dream being. But we’re not asleep. So that’s a continuity error.”

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Baker Blinker blows out air. “I can’t do *everything* in this town. I don’t have enough power. I can control Collagesity North well enough but not here.

Hucka Doobie and Baker Blinker become silent for a moment. Both think of Baker Bloch and Old Mabel on New Island along with Wheeler and Karoz. Baker Bloch is the custodian for this part of town, the main part. He’s the one who cleans up all the creative clutter here from the night before. Like Steve.

But suddenly, Steve the giant red robot wasn’t holding the sideways and backwards ballerina any longer. Urch had reappeared!

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The robot went away. The ballerina returned to her rightful position on the ground directly below.

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Things were moving forward again…

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February 12, 2017 · 8:41 am

MORE AFTERWARDS…00

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… Old Mabel finds out more about Roostre in returning to the Blue Feather Table Room. A *lot* more. She didn’t uncover the crucial Q109-R110 link, which Robot Steve would tell her about later on in a dream. But she, for instance, learned the origin of the name Muff-Bermingham. She thought back to the opening in Corsica that allowed Snowmanster to escape a firey death at the hands of Jerome T. Newton. It was all starting to add up. To something.

—-

EVEN MORE AFTERWARDS…

… “ARE YOU HAPPY?” Steve boomed down at her, still holding the poor clockwork ballerina in his metal claw. “I AM.”

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birta

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0003, 0417, Arkansas, Heterocera, Rubi

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February 5, 2017 · 12:03 pm

Dream

“Oh dear. Still there,” says Old Mabel, walking around her Minoan home this morning. That could only mean one thing.

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She continues to circumnavigate the grounds…

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Front gate.

… then spies this new spectacle just past the lighthouse. A big colorful, half hidden eye…

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… whose pupil flickered back and forth at a rapid pace. It sat just above and beyond a side gate of the property leading to Collagesity North. The formerly closed portal was now open.

A huge blue whale flew over her head as she was pondering whether to pass through the gate, briefly blocking out the sun.

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The eye both beckoned and warned. What would she choose?

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—–

Old Mabel woke up. She had nodded off while listening to Beetles music again and working on another page of her journal (concerning Lucky). Across from her stood a brown being whose head almost touched the ceiling.

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Old Mabel removed her headphones, which were blaring out Lennon’s “No. Nine Dream” off his “Walls and Bridges” solo project from the mid-70s. “Dutch, I presume,” she said, feigning calm amidst the surprise appearance.

“Who else?” he said in a deep voice appropriate for his size and raising all four hands simultaneously.

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February 3, 2017 · 7:54 am

Information

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“Turns out Unch and The Librarian might be one and the same. Keat Owens The Librarian is, underneath it all, what’s called a giant besalisk, a 4 handed version. It’s the involved salamander lineage that doesn’t allow him to be burned, thus the perfect nemesis for firestarter Jerome T. Newton, who we also know now is another version of Wheeler. The ash grey marble hands were a prop.”

“This just gets stranger and stranger,” returns Old Mabel. “The Woods are too peculiar. They could easily drive one mad with their continual twisty-turny ways.”

“Yes,” states Baker, also noticing that Old Mabel didn’t mention anything about moving *away* from said woods. She was engaged for certain.

“I want to know everything about The Diagonal,” she then said.

—–

“Here, let me just clear off some of these beer cans. And: voila.”

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“How long did you say you’ve had this?” asked Baker Bloch.

“It came with the place,” clarified Furry Karl the bartender. “Let’s see, that would be 2005. Old Kringles.” He chuckled, thinking of the good demon he bought the bar from while it was still over in Rubi. “Quite the character. Wore a cow bell around his neck at all times.”

“This must be from the original village. But I thought it was destroyed.”

“Nope,” states Karl plainly. “There it is. You can see it with your dead peepers right in front of you.”

“Could be a copy, a duplicate,” speculated Baker.

“Well, could a copy do *this*?” Karl touches the object and produces a shower of shamrocks.

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“Maybe,” says Baker.

“No, this is the sign. *The* sign. The one turned over and thrown aside during the ’68 robolution. A turning point in our history and time.”

“You said robolution there, Furry Karl. Did you mean revolution?”

“It was what it was.”

—–

Old Mabel dug deeper into the mystery of the belalisk at the town library. Journal 2 contained some information, but she was determined to find more. A particular pattern in another part of the book also caught her attention this night of playing “stay awake as long as possible to avoid dreaming”. The book just fell open at the page while she was trying to push it away from her to lay her head on the table. A yawn quickly turned into a gasp. “The portal in my dreams?”

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But it was too late. Already sound asleep, the monsters arrived quickly.

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