Tag Archives: TILE

October 12, 2025 · 2:33 pm

00480309 (future echo of 00470309)

Okay so let’s talk about the *original* Game of Life, the one that ends in RETIREMENT.

Well, as I’m calculating, if you retire at 62 or 63 and live to be 100, that’s more time spent *living* on the other side of the date subtract all the work work and then recovering from this work in your afterhours, needing more time to buy proper work clothes, and so on. And also assuming that you’re still pretty mobile at least some way into your 90s. In this scenario, it’s really more fitting to say the 2nd half of Life — beyond the Game — only starts when you retire and not just at some kind of so-called mid-life crisis or anything. And it doesn’t have to be mere slide and glide afterwards as some might put it, swift motion without aim toward the grave. It could be about a different motion, a different progression than you had when you work worked. And this is a problem I think a lot of people are confronted with upon leaving their job. 8-5 filled a lot of time. Maybe you had friends at work that will be hard to keep up with now unless, perhaps, they’re around the same age and have some of the same interests that you can share beyond it. What I’m saying is that the old energy needs to be put to new uses. Play with your freed up schedule; have *fun* with it. Think of time as also increasing in quality as well as quantity.

Speaking of gliders…


Constantynople, Constance

… let’s talk about Death now. The true end.

https://bakerbloch.wordpress.com/2025/07/02/00470309/

“No need to worry about a glider this time,” exudes the spirit-head that calls herself Phyllis, guessing what he was going to say.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0309, Constantynople, Nautilus

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October 10, 2025 · 1:39 pm

00480308 (Be on Neon)

“You know, strictly speaking, that sign doesn’t depict 50-50. More a 48-52 or 47-53 split, I’m guessing by the looks of it. What I mean–”

“I know what you mean,” Katherine L. interrupted me, getting the joke. She must be pretty sharp, I realized. And easily dismissive because of it. Much like–

“I’m NOT a Tiler if that’s what you’re thinking,” she interrupted my thoughts this time instead of speech. Wow, I think then. How did she–

“My *husband* was.” Again! I think. “But he’s… passed on. I don’t wish to talk about it now. Come back tomorrow for what you need. The gate to the shop shouldn’t have been open; we should have– just come back tomorrow,” she interrupted herself this time. And then she just rolled it down on my gawking face. She wasn’t kidding about returning when she was in a better mood! But, poor her — husband just died. I had to find out how. And dig into more of that Tiler background — why did she seem to dislike them while her husband embraced the, ahem, cult? And why did she alter that sign I’d seen elsewhere in Neon to indicate more a 48-52 (or 47-53) split between the 2 color sides of the game/philosophy/religion, red/yellow in one part (*almost* half) and green/blue in the other? I had stuff to think about before returning tomorrow and hopefully getting more of the story. I knew it wasn’t a sign for calories and carbohydrates. This sh-t ran deeper than that. A sign, yes, but not of what it indicates on the surface.

The next day would give me more of a surprise. Her husband was killed. Perhaps by these same cultists! No wonder she altered the sign. To throw the 50-50 sh-t back into their gawking faces!

(TBC)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL OT, 0048, 0308, Starfield, Volii Alpha

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October 5, 2025 · 6:04 am

00480303 (don’t be afraid to say the word)

I couldn’t tell whether they were talking about Vermont or New Hampshire from this distance so I had to zoom in.

Still not clear, but from my now floating lips position I did get this was all about a movement away from another state tucked even further into the northeast corner of our great country of the US of A: Maine. You could say that was the main topic of the conversation between Mouse and his greatest creation, another mouse, anthropomorphic in its case, named Pansy. We were in South America’s Amazon far removed from North because he thought he could get away from prying ears here, didn’t suspect me because I was at the resort when he arrived, let’s put it. Hired by the Gaston Berries to keep track of Mouse and his doings. More on them later maybe.

—–

“A sequence of 1 second shots,” shot back the doctor, following up on rules 34 and 35 already cited. They were exchanging ideas rapid fire on the edge of the cement pond shaped like New Hampshire or Vermont, reader’s choice from these angles.

“Yellow,” started Pansy.

“Blue,” replied the doctor.

“Green,” said the anthropomorphic rodent.

“Red!” issued the doctor named for said rodent to close the sequence.

They’d paced the words to be exactly 1 second apart, just like in the video they were referencing. TILE in summary, the ultimate poop product one could say in a vanilla not chocolate way, a different issuance.

Then the golden gloved one emerged from a static filled background at the center to tell the rest of its story.

(to be continued (?))

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0048, 0303, Amazon, Jeogeot, Maine, Nawt Vaya+, New Hampshire, NVFS, Vermont

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August 11, 2025 · 8:52 am

00470515

We finally made time in our busy schedules, ha, to visit Crooked, or what Lexi deemed as Crooked. But the only thing askew about it, really, was that telephone poll just outside the building. Nevertheless, she said, the structure is indeed Crooked, as in a name from another time, another dimension. “Now we just have to get the correct furniture to fit inside,” she said, which got me wondering. “Purple,” she said about the color. “It has to be purple.”

It still wasn’t clear to me if she intended to actually purchase or rent the building set apart from the rest in this Kabusie ghetto, so deep into Darksity that straightness and reason forgot to follow (I think is the way she put it). Or did she just intend to squat there for a time while the processes she also described worked their way through? This is the place she finishes Ralph — I did have that much. End of August. The ditches open themselves up to her like a bitch in heat. Strange way to put it I know, but that’s her phrasing again. We’ll see how it pans out. I guess I’m along for the ride too.

(to be continued)

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0515, C2077, Kabusie

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July 7, 2025 · 6:33 am

00470315

“So Ice Cube who also stands in for Eraser is dead,” observing Nauty said about the crushing of the vowel object-characters in this game of FILE. “Done in by Ruby Gem’s spell centered on All Orange. But let’s back up, examine what these fruits actually represent. Everyone has an Orange, but only females have generally recognized Apples and males have generally recognized Bananas, Big Apples and Big Bananas we can call them.  Although all have spaces on their body that can be filled with such.”

“Everyone is actually All Orange with Apples and Bananas to fill around (an agreed upon) center,” I attempted.

“Big Orange, right. Or Old Orange,” he wheezed out.

—–

Thanks to the pills she manifested in her mouth, Original Phyllis returned on the ottoman on the 2nd floor of the Crooked building in Constantynople, now depossessed or unlinked from the harmful inner spirit known as All Orange, who some call Big or even Old instead. Like Myrtle Beech for the latter. Shame we can’t get into more of her story right now but there’s only so much you can do with a 24 hour day these days. Outdoor fun like watching a tired dump truck driver unload a Big Arm beside a Big Banana in Flathardt with the help of a handy elephant can only last so long, else you run out of time for other stuff. Plus there’s the rain, the seemingly daily mountain showers and thunderstorms to contend with, PHEH. Else who *knows* what could be achieved. There would be an outdoor center congruent with the inner. But back to original Phyllis in her original role.

“Red yellow green blue,” she begins. “NO orange, NO–” She pauses. Is it about the orange? she briefly contemplates. NO, it’s not about the orange. Nor the violet. “NO violet,” she starts again in her loud, confident manner, pills in full effect now. “NO nothing else. We HAVE — our 4…..”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0315, Constantynople, Flathardt, Goikyland, Haze County, Nautilus

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June 27, 2025 · 2:24 pm

00470303 (6666 posts, 666 pages — coincidence?)

“And so that’s how it all started, this story of FILE derived from TILE,” observing Nauty declared in his wise guy way. “We simply had to move Firey from 4th to 1st in this bottom group of 4 to spell out the word F-I-L-E with the first letters of their reordered names. F stands in for T because these are the 2 straight letters of the alphabet which can contain 7 sub-letters per the TILE game structure. The BFDI object-character colors here also match the 4 of TILE in red green blue yellow of course, although the individual letter to color correspondences are different from the game board. I could go on and on, but I’ll ask you the burning question that now presents itself up front and center alongside or even on top of repositioned Firey: What happened to the Dream Island all these characters were so fiercely battling over, often to their deaths? We know the answer to that too, given it presents itself as a constant in *our* world.”

“Constance,” I say to this, citing the name of the FILE sim that is also the name of the island in question.

“Correct,” he wheezes. “We should return but I’m not sure that’s possible given all else that’s happened in the meantime.” Since the demise of my attempted urban center there I dubbed Constantynople, I understood. Back toward the end of photo-novel 39 I believe. Checking….. checking….. Yes. 39. The island seems to have changed little in the intervening 2 or so years, indeed an aberration for such a large group of separately owned properties in the ever changing world that is Our Second Lyfe. It truly appears to represents some sort of sticky outie constant.


pin filled map of Constance Island with my former Constantynople at the top

“But we still have, let’s see, the rest of FILE,” I said, “the other 30 sims in this column that Constance more or less centers. Minus the hacked off 1 at the top.”


Constance Island in the middle of the 32>31 Nautilus continent “FILE” (purple column)

“Exactly centers including the hacked off 1 at the top,” furthers Nauty, knowing his continent better than me, since it is the same as his body in essence, pins stuck just there there there there, and so on and so forth. Constance is just a start. But also an end. “(The sim of) Ten Pages is 10 up from the bottom,” he continues with his FILE knowledge, “indicating that the 32 minus 1 (the top sim was wacked off in the retirement process), taken as a whole, are pages of a book, perhaps a chapter, perhaps more.”

“A section,” I say. But then I knew it had to be 2 if so.

“The… doorstep to the Temple of TILE was positioned right smack in the center of the 32 sim FILE,” he pinpoints while wheezing out.

Suddenly I knew what had to be done.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0303, Constantynople, Goikyland, Nautilus, NORTH, Rank & File, Temple of TILE

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June 1, 2025 · 2:29 pm

00470109

“The Atom is not just another pretty op art picture,” she said, manipulating and expanding the pattern until the above image was produced.  “It represents a CONTRACT signed between you and the Universe (almost wrote *University* there (!)) to go out in the World and do and preach GOOD. If you can’t do this then someone else will. In fact, they already have.”

https://theredarrowgallery.com/show/red-arrow-brianna-bass-ex-nihilo

“Will you let it go?” she continued. “Or will you reclaim what is rightfully yours? Both can be true, you know. You and this other person are not the same. The child of the best friend of the sister of you and your wife’s best friend. Small world, huh?”

“Indeed (!)”

A character, I realized. I have to create a Classical God-Star. TILE must be involved again. And orange and violet, ERR, amber and magenta.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0047, 0109, C2077, Cable Isle, J-Town, Jeogeot, Tennessee, Towerboro

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May 18, 2025 · 5:51 am

00460609

We use ART to discover who the true stabber is.

—–

“Oh Gregg Oden my opposite evil evil green twin! What have you done what have you DONE?!

“Hello 119? I mean 911! I’d like to report an accident. A horrible horrible accident!”

“Calm down, sir,” said Gertrude on the other side. “Just tell me what happened.”

“Stabbing. STAB!” Greg Ogden’s imaginary Juho art studio conveniently located on Makers Lane with door always slightly ajar come to life, as it were. As it *is*. He looks down at the body, quickly bleeding out. Not much time!

“Okay, I’ve tracked your location. We’ll send Charlie and Peet right over. Don’t leave the scene, sir!”

Then he was back at the beginning, painting Black Lake that wasn’t actually black except in soul. Should’ve never switched over to oils.

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0609, Bogota, Chilbo, collages 2d, Crisp Sea, Ebbert, Jeogeot, Juho, Lower Austra, Nautilus, Nawt Vaya+, Wild West

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April 28, 2025 · 9:06 pm

00460416 (warm up)

“Prince Julian of Droop?!”

—–

“Someone had to take care of him, hubby of mine. Or her. I think it was meant to be us. A family. You, me, er (she points), it!”

“I don’t blame them for shedding all that hair on occasion, spoke Newt to on again off again mate Wheeler, back in their matching Mr. Moon t-shirts for the occasion. “General rated sim here but what can you do.”

“Make sure no one can see in. Make it private even. Plus (she gazes), they have hair underneath their hair. Whatever that means.”

“It means they’re *special*.” 2n1, both understood.

He turns toward the interior. “Now where were we?”

“Summoning a spirit. On that ottoman over there.”

“Oh yeah.”

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Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0046, 0416, Jeogeot, Nawt Vaya+, NVFS

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April 28, 2025 · 7:59 am

00460415 (The River Styx?)

Rockstahr, Philip thinks while staring at the red green blue yellow lines again. Gotta find the origin. Who is this madman behind it all? Across the water?

“Whaddaya think, Frank?” he said after the story was over, still staring across the Nawt Vaya waters that had replaced the Alamo Sea waters in their now smaller, less broad virtual existences. “Little Heaven? Little Hell?”

“Might be,” he said, reminiscing in his own way about Redd. And that darn cat of a man she spoke about. She/he knew so much!

(to be continued)

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