Tag Archives: Tin S. Man


Heidi Hunt Ives read to to him from their user’s Big Book of Synchronicity Interviews:

So how about “Foreign One” or “4orrin1”, then? To me, it naturally follows that “4orrin1” must be defined as something beyond a silver or gold tiling, and I chose the highly valuable metal platinum to name the process. “Head Trip”, although simpler, actually acts as the first true platinum synch that I concocted. It’s very simple, really: “HT” is two basically complete golden tilings woven together — tiles switched on and off between the two — to create something beyond each. In other words, it’s the tiling of 2 equivalent full movies mashed together in a back and forth manner. Back to your question then, Karl, “4orrin1” is kind of 4 gold tilings synched together, yes. But – – this is also very important — platinum tilings can contain not only a multitude of equivalent gold tilings within but also *silver* tilings. And to this, at the center of both “Head Trip” and “4orrin1” — and also “Billfork” — is one particular album apiece by the esteemed comedy group Firesign Theatre, dubbed the Beatles of Comedy at one point. Basically Pink Floyd handed off to Firesign Theatre in “Billfork”, which contains music and equivalent albums from both.

She closed the book and laid it back down on the Great Table. “This is why The Bill are so important to Piera because The Bill are Firesign Theatre, Man. Tin S. Man.”

“But we can’t talk about ‘4orrin1,'” he replied. “Nor ‘Head Trip’. Our user has tried that… and failed (SEE: ‘Paradox II: The Chancelling’).”

“We can limit ourselves to ‘Pumpkintwisters’, though. Tossing out the weak ‘Kansas City Life’, (it’s) the first synch combining 2 movie into 1, the first example of platinum in that way. The great 2-n-1. And that’s why we have brought you to Capitol City and put you up at a cheap but clean rental in the northeast part of the berg I found the other day by accident. Because inside you is lead Kinks Ray Davies, their main man by a, er, long shot. But he doesn’t have a big head about it, hehe. You know and freely admit that now.

“Yes. Interesting collage by the way.”

Gila 01

“The problem becomes: Who plays Zappa? If we extended our discussions to ‘Head Trip’ — which we won’t — *I* could play lead Monkees singer Davy Jones, since that’s *my* name.” He of course is featured in ‘Head’, the pop group’s trippy dippy hippy movie from the late 60s.”

“You as David Bowie, you mean. David Bowie’s given name was David Jones, which he changed because of the presence during his rise to fame of the already very famous Monkees singer.”

“Right. He did. *I* did.”

Boos 07

“And ‘Trip’?”

Heidi paused. “Zappa’s realm too, and a bigger one… but we cannot move into that dialog any deeper. We talk about ‘Pumpkintwisters’ and that is that. You fit in strongly there as the centre, Tin S. Man. Also ‘4orrin1’, but that’s even further away from the light, beyond ‘Head Trip’ even…”

“More complexity. Complexity stacked atop complexity.”

“It is the ultimate synch in ways, that and the parallel ‘1 Pink’, but it remains in pieces inside an shallow grave not of one peace. The whole must be collaged together still to (properly) fill the hole.” She paused, scratched her nose. “Yes, we will return to the Blue Feather for ‘Pumpkintwister’ discussion. I will work on the Zappa issue.” Heidi pulls out a pocket calendar. “How’s Friday the 12th for you? Sorry again about the location change. I didn’t realized that the intercontinental interwebs cables hadn’t been stretched between Corsica and Gaeta V yet. We remain in the Dark Ages here.”

“‘Tis Alright,” Tin S Man replies. “I’ve had enough of Capitol City and its bland and boorish manners anyway. Tronesisia… aww rats!!” He recoils from Heidi, unable to backtrack the slip.

“Tronesisia?? Did you say Tronesisia?? What’s Tronesisia got to do with this?” She gasps.

“You’re not *together* with Tronesisia are you? Du warst nicht mit ihr auf eine familiäre Art zusammen?”

Tin S. Man hung his head low. “Ja.”

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“Honey? Are you coming?” a prepared Tronesisia called from the bedroom.

“Ich bin eingefroren,” Tin S. Man squeaked back after a pause from the bathroom in his squeaky clean state.


“Aww, babydoll. Not again!”

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Table Meeting 02

For Table Meeting No. 2, Baker Bloch arrived at the Blue Feather in his self named Spookmobile, almost running over Old Mabel and Hucka Doobie while humming down Old Cannon Road from his attic home in the western part of town. Baker apologized to the two while they were walking up behind him, nerves rattled.


“You know it’s only about 100 yards from your place to the Blue Feather,” says Hucka Doobie, still dusting herself off from diving behind Major Stone to avoid being hit. “You don’t really need to drive. What is that thing anyway? Where’d you get it?”

Baker Bloch realized Hucka Doobie wasn’t inworld all that much and hadn’t caught up with the news. So he caught her up.

“Fascinating,” says Hucka Doobie afterwards. Anson and Anton. Yet another one. *Must* be the work of Mid Hazel.”

“And we further speculate that Wheeler is trapped on New Island now, unable to escape. I’d take you there to see the broken bridge but the meeting’s starting up in a moment.”

“Without Wheeler?” Hucka Doobie scratches her bee head in confusion.

“I’m taking Wheeler’s place,” Baker declared. “Let’s head inside and get this thing started.”

“Cool, I suppose,” says Hucka Doobie, still a bit in the dark on things. Old Mabel remained silent, not liking where this was, er, heading.




“As most of you know,” Baker began, “Wheeler’s wishes were to move forward instead of backwards. Toward ‘Pumpkintwisters’ and the future instead of ‘Billfork’ and its Northfork and Billville in the past. *But*… Wheeler isn’t here.”

Old Mabel suddenly perked up. Could it be? Could it be?

“So we’re going to talk about ‘Billfork’ tonight.”

Old Mabel actually jumped out of her chair a bit in joy. She had been preparing to discuss ‘Billfork’ for weeks now, listening to all the pertinent John Lennon solo efforts and reading up about the Ono debacle and so forth.

“Now I’m sorry Tin S. Man. I know this was your time to shine.”

“‘T’is okay, Baker Bloch. The Ray Davies inside of me can wait. I am sympathetic to the plight of Northfork and Billville both. Both flooded, both moved. A moving tale each.” he smiled.

“Yes,” agreed Baker. “So since we’re backing up from ‘3 Friends of Belleville’ instead of going forward, we can point out that *Belle*ville camed from *Bill*ville — and also visa versa since time really doesn’t exist. This is part of the overarching complexity of the Piera. Old Mabel, do you want to help me out and pull up some pertinent videos on the interwebs? Try ‘Northfork + Polish’.”

“Sure thing, Wilson.” Everyone stared at her. “I mean, Baker Bloch, tee hee. Slip of the tongue.” She went over to the suave chair she had sat in so many times now and did the appropriate search.

“So what is ‘Billfork’ you might be asking?” then said Baker Bloch. “Well, on the audio side it’s primarily ‘Boom Dot Bust’ by Firesign Theatre. On the video side it’s the movie ‘Northfork’ by the Polish twins, Michael and Mark. As Tin S. Man alluded to, both feature towns that have to be moved in order to be saved. The town of Northfork is being flooded by a new lake. Billville is threatened by tornadoes, and also, strangely and syncily, a flood at the end, where the mayor has to turn into a fish and ‘swim, swim, swim’ to stay alive. Tonight, to begin, we’re going to look at a number of clips from ‘Northfork’ which are available on the Youtubes. We’re just going to look at them as they appear in Old Mabel’s hit list here, and I’ll talk about the relationship with ‘Billfork’ afterwards — I don’t think we need to do them in order. So if you would just start at the top of your list, Old Mabel, and work down.”


“Yes *sir*”.


2 1/2 hours later they had gone through innumerable Youtube videos featuring not only ‘Northfork’, but Firesign Theatre, Pink Floyd, and John Lennon and his Beetles. Even Old Mabel was getting a little tired. But they had learned a lot. They knew ‘Billfork’ contained some kind of code which Baker Bloch simply dubbed the Billfork Code during the meeting, having come up with that name several hours prior. Baker had passed out most of the 8 oranges Old Mabel dreamt about to participants at The Table this night, setting the remainder at empty seats while saying that each represented a whole track from ‘Boom Dot Bust’ used in ‘Billfork’. Old Mabel grasped hers tightly as Baker handed it to her, making sure she didn’t drop it this time (unlike in the dream). “Now I know we’re all tired,” Baker continued, “but we need to also talk about the 9th tonight. The 9th is ‘Doom Bot Dust’, the opposite of ‘Boom Dot Bust’. And that’s where we think the code comes from. A south by southwest direction.” Old Mabel nodded her head in agreement as she looked past Hucka Doobie in that direction.


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Sewed Up? 01


“Oh Baker Bloch. I was hoping that was you down here.” But Old Mabel then knew it wasn’t Baker Bloch. This was Wilson. “Oh… sorry. Hello Wilson.”

“Please, call me Wheeler Old Mabel,” and then Wilson turned into the appropriate form for this nomenclature. “Have you seen that picture by chance?” Wheeler points to her left at Wheeler 02 displayed on the Big Board, as she’s come to call the screen with the interweb feed at the Table Room.

Old Mabel sits in the suave chair next to the Big Board to get a closer look. “I think I’ve seen it in SoSo Mall, maybe.”


“Look at the sewing machine. What’s the name?”

“Let’s see. Um, it says Wheeler… Wilson. Hmmm. Like you.”


“That is all,” says Wheeler abruptly. “You can go.”

(continued in)

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Old Mabel’s Night

… discovering graffiti on the back of Furry Karl’s Joker’s Wild bar…


… learning that the word “SoSo” may actually derive from the older “Soos”…


… finding another Soos at the Table Room…


… discovering another Mabel (“Another twin!”) and ordering a L$50 cap from the Second Life marketplace…


… wearing said cap while studying up about this strange, parallel universe at her new home…


… having a dream about a giant Jiff wearing Brenda’s war helmet and peering into the Blue Feather at a burning lemon…


… having a dream about meeting Snowbob’s Great Uncle Spongebill Triangleslacks while Chesterton the Librarian eats noisily in one corner.


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Mum’s the word.


“This is the greater me,” explained Tin S. Man to little yellow Spongebob perched on the edge of The Table. It’s a square.

“Bahahahaha!” screeched Spongebob.

“Not an appropriate place to laugh — again.”


“And in the very next post — here let me click through — we have this.”


“That lady!” exclaimed Spongebob.

“Yes. When Mr. Keat Owens pays a visit to you tomorrow, you *do not* know this, um, lady. You erase her memory from your mind. Do you understand? Snowmanster’s existence depends on it. Your wife’s very existence, I said. We can save her through careful collaging, but you have to help us. The detective — Mr. Keat Owens again — cannot make the connection between the two. He must remain in the dark. Do you *understand* Mr. Squarepants?”

Spongebob laughs again.

I hope to hell this works, is all Tin S. Man could think.

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Red Read


“Father, when will mother be joining us?” asked Snowbob the man-child.

“Corsica,” indicated the father. “Corsica, Corsica, Corsica!”

“She’s not going to be here anytime soon. Is she?” The father doesn’t answer this time. Both stare blankly into space.

Snowbob is beginning to theorized his family won’t be staying in Collagesity long. The house payment hasn’t gone through yet. Their furniture is still in storage. Even though he manged to get the main gate to the property open yesterday, there was still some kind of invisible barrier that he had to jump over to come inside — a sign. And his father’s skin had turned from yellow to green. A mysterious malady, because he seems perfectly normal. But Snowbob keeps recheckeding his father’s outfit list behind him. Always green skin instead of the previous yellow. Yellow is missing. Yellow is missing!



I’ve got to solve this case so I can get out of here! thought Owens, wearing the mantle of private detective now.

Tired of staring at roshambo images, he sat down at The Table and enjoyed more leftover wine from the diner. By this time he was drinking straight from the bottle. “Reading anything interesting?” he asked Curled Paper across from him, trying to start up a conversation once more. “‘Winesap’? Sounds intriguing.” But Curled Paper still said nothing (his light was off). Paper, he then thought. Curled Paper. Another clue?


“I wonder where The Librarian went?” he tried again. “He always seems to be here, sitting.”

“Bathroom break,” then uttered Tin S. Man in his low voice from the left. “It takes him a while.” Owens had forgotten the metal being was alive. Someone to talk to while he drinks. Nice!

“Well, er… what do I call you?” He squinted up at the giant’s kind face.

“Tin S., please. Like the game. Like the sport. It’s always love something for me. My ego and aggression are always zeroed out.”

“Well that’s fascinating, Tin S.,” Owens spoke while taking another sip of wine from his bottle. “So rude,” he then said of himself, lifting the bottle toward Tin S. Man. “Want any?”

“I cannot drink wine, only oil. Wine makes me tipsy. When I fall down, I cannot get up because of my massive weight. Only oil please. Do you have a bottle of oil?”

“Not on me, no. Maybe later. Listen, Tin. S., how did you get here? I mean, why are you at The Table along with the others? Old Mabel mentioned you were a famous musician inside that outer casing. Dave something. Davis?”

“Davies,” corrected Tin S. Man. “That is a true inner form, yes.” He paused.

“What’s the purpose of all this?”

Tin S. Man moved his joints slightly, then asked a question back: “What do you know of our user?”

“I know that Baker Bloch is the main channel for the user who goes by the same name.”

“Baker B., close enough,” said Tin S. Man.

“And… um, I guess The Table, as far as I understand, represents a gathering of variants, mainly musicians like yourself, who have, er, *donated* their work to a greater whole. This Table.” He then knocks on The Table to reinforce his answer.

“Are you staying in town long enough to attend the next Table meeting?” asked Tin S. Man.

“I *hope* not,” returned Owens. He needed to get back to the roshambo images. Something about that yellow hand. Paper. Switch. He pulled the little, wine stained slip of paper from his coat pocket and read it again. This is the one found in Baker Bloch’s own wine. “Pill” is all it said.

“Reading anything interesting?” The giant smiles.


Meanwhile, over at the Red Umbrella…

That’s him alright. Owens.”



“And over in Boos as well,” added Old Mabel.


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