Tag Archives: TILE

jarred

“She came through the cake portal off the Southwest Corridor.”

“I know where the cake portal is,” black haired Fern Stalin reprimanded the more mentally challenged Lichen Roosevelt, a classic ditzy blonde. “What have you found so far?” Understandably, and good to know, Lichen was a subordinate to Fern, which is why she got first shot at an analysis before the bigger gun moved in. Fern’s mind could turn into a fiery, raging bazooka if needed.

“We know she’s not fully human, maybe as little as half human. As you can see, there’s a pink-ish tone to her skin, and I’m not talking about flesh colored pink but pink pink, as in ‘Some Like It Hot’ pink.”

“Looks pretty cool to me,” Fern stated, eyeballing the being and not sensing a Marilyn Monroe type situation. This *red* could turn out to be pretty smart, like herself. That old saying, black and red good in bed, spontaneously sprang to mind. But yellow’s a different fellow, some tacked on. Like herself. “What else?”

“She’s got scars on her face, perhaps from an operation. Oh, she’s got 4 stomachs. Like a cow!”

“She *doesn’t*.” Fern let her guard down in the surrealness of the moment.

“Just kidding.”

Fern frowned but was proud of Lichen for the joke, since they had been talking about the TILE Manifesto and the line, “And so on the 5th day he cowed”, just this morning at the commissary kitchen — good setup. Maybe her intelligence shows up more in humor. Didn’t she use to do stand up comedy down at the Toasty Toad? Or was it Tasty? She could check later on the interwebs. Maybe that was Pete Perk over at marketing, come to think of it. Lichen was just dating him, just tagging along. And something happened to Pete, yes, and she had to take the stage. He choked on a toad? No, that can’t be it. He choked *at* the Toad. Got stage fright. Lichen filled in. I remember, yeah, she was pretty good, pretty tasty. Something else… ahh, back to the task at hand. The intruding alien. But what if this really *does* have something to do with TILE.

“Let’s get back to the face marks. What size were they and what part of the face were they on? Could be a disguise, like Eddy the Phosphorescent Leech over in Zilchboro. Did you check the scars? Did you measure their width, length, angle, and depth?” Fern knew Lichen in all likelihood didn’t do this. She had the upper hand again as usual.

(to be continued)

1 Comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0314, HANA LEI, Voyageurs+

The Fall (V)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0214, collages 2d, Springfeld

The Inbetweeners

Tickie was getting between good friends Tealy and Tillie. He had to run away. Tenty was the logical choice for a destination, a twin brother from another.

—–

“Ground rules: *don’t* go over to Grimm unless absolutely necessary and, whatever you do, don’t go over to the Slot Mountain Castle. Death within!”

Tickie had heard about a head in a jar named Homer there who use to be a prominent resident of NWES City (*almost* NWES Town, but not quite). He wisely decided to heed the warning of host Tenty.

—–

Tickie naturally looked east for answers instead of the forbidden west (Grimm; Slot Mtn.; Slot Mtn. Castle). They were sitting in identical chairs in back now, but Tickie had gotten up: restless. “Who lives over there?” he asks about the house between the source and the lake of a blue-grey stream beyond the wooden fence.

“Oh, just one of those TILE fanatics, hence the *river*.” Tenty didn’t really like the Tilists, and thought there were too many in the area and on the island as a whole. He stated this to Tickie. He told him about the river of the world as the Before and After, or the Zero and the Nine.

“Like Zero Hero?” exclaimed Tickie, getting excited despite himself. He was a hero worshipper by nature, and Zero Hero was one of his favorites. He’d never heard of a hero called Nine, though.

“That’s Jasper,” spoke Tenty through his tentacled mouth, but in a pretty ordinary man-voice despite this, more than Tickie’s which was kind of squeaky; mouse-like. “That’s the Land of the Dead. The Egg.”

Tickie didn’t know these terms. He felt like he was getting in over his head with Tenty, who use to be a professor of religion/philosophy/games at Northwest NWES but which wasn’t there any more, a victim of the Tar Wars as they called it in scholarly-land. He turned toward Tenty. A realization occurred. They had been here before!

“Tell me about core avatars, Tenty,” he asked, knowing his friend would know a lot. His very close friend.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0023, 0102, NE Hills, NWES Island

male

“Where’s the rabbit?”

“He’ll be up shortly,” Toothpick answers Supper Man. Both are getting married in 1-3 weeks. They have to decide what is first and who is marrying who. The latter should be easy.

“Dinner Girl wanted us to meet again, have tea. She thinks we can help each other. She doesn’t want a double marriage. She thinks we should go first. I say we should go second, see how it goes for you guys.”

“And Dinner Girl isn’t (also) your sister?” asked Toothpick, following up from earlier speculation.

“No.”

“You sure?”

“Listen, we’re not the same person.” He leans forward, but dares not touch any part of Toothpick’s body for fear of passing through. Invisible. Nonexistence, even. He’s worked too hard on his abs to fritter all this away. And now that his favorite restaurant has closed up shop it should be even easier to keep the lbs away.

Toothpick/Filbert looks left as a distraction. “The rabbit over there is indicating our old friend Certain Death, Supper Man. No running away from all that. But then there’s the 561 steps now leading from End back to Beginning and the 561 again. Through 24687531 we can be saved.”

“Bahh.” Supper Man even spits toward Toothpick a bit here while exclaiming his exasperation over the supposedly sacred (heart) number. The spittle indeed passes through Toothpick’s skin, muscle and bone, some reaching the back of the chair behind him.

“Why do you disbelieve the power of the even in a row and then the odd in a backwards row?” Toothpick then considered the 9th is involved. He’d seen it once or twice before. The counter to the Zero, perhaps the Zero Hero. “We are getting married in the Temple of TILE after all with the sacred book now open at the front for everyone to see. We have the story of the CITY. The CITY is TILE.”

Supper Man scratched his head. “You and *me* are getting married in the Temple of TILE?”

Back to square one.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0414, Black Ice, NWES Island

letters and numbers but mostly letters

“Red yellow green blue,” the introduction began. “NO purple. NO orange. NO nothing else. We have our 4. I am Phyllis and I approve this manifesto. Let’s make this shit happen.”

561 words. In the next paragraph.

—–

Future scholars picked out key words like Olive, Gray, Residents, Oklahoma, Pink, Brown, and Geronimo as anchors to their attempts at analyses, even though the sentence, “Keys — you can have them; I’m producing my own delicious peanut based spread for my bread.”, appears plainly in the 166th paragraph (before perhaps one about milk) as a seeming warning to this approach. 1/2 and 1/2 again, since almost everyone agrees that this sentence *is* the key since it is the only readable one in the whole 561 paragraph document (except perhaps for the sentence about milk following it), with the ending paragraph simply, “End.”, and the second to last, “Tartar mosquito.”, and the third to last, “I am instant.”, and so on back to the 561 word 1st paragraph — most scholars don’t count the clearly worded introduction just to be clear. So the 166th paragraph with the sense making sentence has, let’s see (pulls up calculator), 395 words, of which 16 are in that key sentence quoted above. Some turn to maths for explanation of the inexplicable Manifesto, usually capitalized in these TILE friendly and frenzied days. Jim Baloony of Yale’s Harvard points out that 395 divided by 16 equals 24.6875, which when extended to the logically equivalent 24.687531 contains all the even and then odd numbers in order and then reverse order between 0 and 9. “Where is the 9th?” he questions, and then turns to the “perhaps sentence” (as it is called these days) about milk to make his theories more palatable and easier to swallow. It reads: “And so on the 5th day he cowed.” Several books about that sentence alone have now been published, one by Bart Smipson, a skateboarder from Tull, and the other by his vegetarian leaning sister Lisa, co-written by someone who chooses to simply be known as Marty. And then there’s the whole Zero Hero cult that has grown around the mention of Gong in paragraphs 3, 40, and 340.

(to be continued?)

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0411, Black Ice, Jeogeot, NWES Island

X-girl

It was the first meeting of their TILE discussion group, yet without a name. Mr. Z, with continentally constituted backpack per usual, then his prettier brother-cousin also named Mr. Z. Let’s call him Zimmy. And then, thirdly but not lastly, as people like to say, a scowling, non-sister cousin called — let’s go with Olive Oylslick, not to be confused with Owley Oilstick over in Constitution who works a bread stand. No relation atall between them except a common 5th grade kindergarten teacher named Ed. Or was it Ralph. Anyway, to the meeting…

The lights had to be dimmed because TILE was not an officially recognized religion or philosophy or even game in this particular part of The City. One of the reasons the discussion group was formed was to help change all that, bring TILE out in the open.

“Minute taker anyone?” Mr. Z offered to start the proceedings. Owley, I mean, Olive raised her hand. She knew she had the only handwriting anyone could decipher amongst their group. Her favorite push pencil magically appeared in it. She had that power; another advantage. A writing pad popped into existence in the other one. She glared in the direction of the Z’s, waiting for them to open their big fat mouths again and produce things to write about. She was patient, but not of a mental kind. Not any more. She manifested two pills in her mouth and swallowed, one red and one blue. That way her size stayed the same.

With this, Phyllis also manifested on the far end of the room beside the purple stripes of the TILE flag they had collaged together just last night: the last member, the one Olive forgot she even invited to the group. Met her at a chilly Denver airport on a snowy April day in July. Chile Colorado. And she had Ralph or Ed for a 5th grade kindergarten teacher too. Anyhoot, she’s here — and I suppose this is the real Owley. So Phyllis, not Owley, complete with bread and a little milk to wash it down with to show she cares.

“Some of these colors will have to be removed,” she declares while looking sideways, making Olive begin to scribble.

—–

40 minutes later, she had the minutes to the meeting. Trouble is, her cousins, the Z’s, hadn’t even said a thing while watching her slash away at the notepad with the push pencil, clicking it every couple of minutes to produce new graphite as the old wore away. She just dictated what Phyllis was telling her. No one else saw or heard Phyllis. No one else knew she existed. It was all in the pills. But they *had* their manifesto. Olive looked up, realized what was going on. She’d been in a trance for quite a while. She looked at her cousins, Zimmy and the other one who only goes by Mister. “You can go home now,” she gruffly declares. “I’ll email you the typed results tonight.”

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0022, 0410, Black Ice, Colorado, NWES Island

Multicolor

“A new town has arisen beyond the revolving tire, Cathy Love Peace Hippie Child. We must attempt to match its energy!”

“Sounds *great*!” the chipper hippie girl said, eyeing the namesake tower from her vantage point while following Rhiannon to the table with the magic cards. But she said to call her Golden.

—–

“Tsk tsk tsk. Oh dear. We better hurry.”

“Oh I feel *awful* again, Rhiannon.” Golden let the name slip go, given what just happened.

“Let’s start with a single.” She turned the just dealt card up.

—–

She sat in the middle of 4 and realized this was matching the energy.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0020, 0209, Corsica, Urqhart

manimals

“We’re going to have to leave, Rocky. Like the Hendersons before us. Perch — his mansion has been empty for a while, maybe 3 months. We’ll have to take Dogg of course. The Mann loves that animal.”

“I see,” the anthropomorphic raccoon says from his laying stump.

“I don’t know what we’ll do about a dog park in the new place, the new town. I’m sure we won’t have anything like this.”

“No.” Then Rocky Racco, who’d been living in Storybrook 3 months himself and had no desire to leave atall, asked this question which had been on his mind for awhile. “Do you believe in sea monsters, Mrs. Mann?”

“Please. Call me Parasol. We’ve been talking together on this bench and stump for a while now, *Mr.* Racco. I call you Rocky, see. You call me Parasol.”

“Mrs. Parasol–”

“*Parasol,” interjected Parasol Mann. “Just: Parasol. The light skinned one,” she added. “Not the dark one. Things are different here in Storybrook. You have to adapt to the time, to the place. A story in a brook. Current.”

“Right…” But he couldn’t say her name aloud yet. He was overly formal like that.

An odor was in the air. The Dogg must have dumped a big one over there with The Mann, Parasol thinks, watching the end of it. Great Danes are like that. Then she remembered she hadn’t answered Rocky’s question from a while back. “Oh. To the sea monster thing: no.”

“Why not?” Rocky returned hurriedly, almost urgently. “Say, green ones. Wearing pink tutus with seaweed for hair. How about something like that?”

Not wanting to answer Rocky twice about the same subject she was firm about, The Mann approached her with The Dogg. “We’re all done.”

“I would hope,” Parasol answered, looking at the happy animal in front of her and still sniffing a bit.

“Did you have a good chat with your old pal Rocky while I was walking Dogg?” It was here that Parasol realized she hadn’t talked to Rocky about the most important thing. Her infidelity to The Mann. Her affair with Charlie Banana on those islands out in Southside Bay (Southside?). The breaking of her heart by same. Charlie Banana definitely had a way with yellow but red and blue were beyond his scope to comprehend, she’d learned. It was wrong.

But it would happen again. She got up to leave. “Goodbye Rocky. I’ll see you around.”

“Goodbye.” He still couldn’t do it, despite the circumstances.

“Ro rong,” Dogg said in parting, knowing this might be the last time he’d see his park buddy.

Leave a comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0019, 0314, Corsica, Storybrook-

World, The

“No, she just prefers Nautilus to here. Nautilus is her, eh, *natural* environment. That’s why she wanted to move Collagesity. Nothing against Heterocera or Rubi or The Woods.”

“That’s reassuring,” confessed Baker Bloch. “She is a dancer.”

“She is *The World,*” John Lockfry 02 reassured him. “She [through Nautilus] is the endpoint of the alchemical process, the philosopher’s stone. Red Violin and Golden Sphere. What is World reversed, then? Well, it is here. Collagesity. That’s what Karoz was talking about.”

“What’s the correct choice going forward?”

“Associate her directly with Nautilus moving forward. BoB, but all of Nautilus really. It’s World of Lemon moving forward. Boxed and ready for motion.”

img_3259smaller

But what of TILE, I ask?

1 Comment

Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0002, Heterocera, Lower Austra, Middletown, Nautilus, Rubi

Middletown, Early October

Saturday trip to Middletown. Great time! This seeming manifestation of TILE in a window display got my camera clicking. The colors are reversed, but the direct association is there. Instead of the correct yellow “I”, you have a blue one. Instead of the right color of blue for the “E”, you have yellow. Then instead of a red “L” you have a green one here. All that’s missing letter-wise is the “T”, which would logically be [the reversed] red in this scenario.

img_3176smaller

In this picture is depicted a Middletown collagist briefly alluded to here. I believe we have taken separate paths in this discipline. Her back is literally and figuratively turned to me, I feel, even though upon meeting we were face to face. My route is focused upon the educational more than the commercial. Both paths have advantages. I would suppose hard core collagists are very insecure people. I should know.

I would like to mention here another collagist whose work I just ran across yesterday. MK Ultrasound may be more similar to myself, even though he also sells his works. That’s because he additionally creates audiovisual collages, like I do (MessiaenSphere, Messiaen Trek, etc.). These are, by their very nature, non-profitable. Here’s a link to some of his work: http://www.mkultrasound723.com/art. Hmm, wonder if *he* would like the exhibit his art in Collagesity? Interesting. But I’d have to get to know him and his portfolio and artistic philosophy better.

img_3181smaller

One of my arch enemies, and blown up to large size to emphasize the dislike. This is what nightmares are made of.

img_3186smaller

A rare picture of the real me. Can you see?

img_3214smaller

Middletown was quite far down into the rabbit hole this day of parading and protesting and such. But what energy! I was soaking it up apparently.

img_3227smaller

Hillary…

img_3239smaller

… and Donald.

img_3240smaller

This is a more interesting story. Just two shops down from the one with the TILE display discussed above, I found this man posing next to the Judgement card from the Rider-Waite tarot deck. This happens to be the Major Arcana card coming direction before The World, the final one. I asked him about the card, mentioning I was just writing about The World the night before (and I also discuss *TILE* in the same paragraph!). He told me it was to indicate when your food was ready. I asked if The World happened to be on the flip side?

img_3260smaller

It wasn’t, but I found it quickly enough inside.

img_3259smaller

One of the queer things about this exchange is that the man’s wife or partner was also taking pictures of him with the card at the same time. Here *she* is at work.

img_3263smaller

Middletown has energy. Door to reality.

1 Comment

Filed under 0002, Middletown