Tag Archives: Tracy Austin^^

truths

She wasn’t named for this gray scale alien. Instead: the gray scales of a fish to oppose the blue feathers of a bird. In toto: Grey Scale Kimball of the South pitted against Blue Feather Douglas of the North. Bird, sky, opposed by Fish, sea.

But in staring at the crop circle picture again hanging in the recently reconstructed House of Truth at the very center of Golden Sink, she’s beginning to think she *is* named for this famous, highly complex 2002 crop circle that miraculously appeared overnight in a field of wheat near Pitt, England (locally: Crabwood Farm). Both “grey scale”. Too coincidental.

http://www.cropcircleconnector.com/anasazi/wormholetechnology.html

Crabwood of August 15 was one of the most famous crop pictures in modern history, but no one could really understand its message. As shown in two pictures below, the schematic face of a “grey alien” was drawn within a large “rectangular box” that contained 60 horizontal lines, just as for an early “mechanical” TV image, chosen in the 1930’s because we use 60 Hz AC power. The variable width of each line then creates different “gray scales” (modern TV screens use far more lines to give better pictures):

Next, that rectangular box with an alien face was carefully aligned so that it would point at two, nearby TV-radio towers. This was as if to say: “Yes, our new crop picture is really meant to represent the TV image of a grey alien.” In other words, those crop artists can only see the alien “from a distance”, where the word “television” means of course “seeing over a distance”.

Now in one lower corner of that rectangular box, the crop artists also drew a “spiral disc” which contained an elaborate, ASCII-coded binary message as shown. I have omitted all concerns for punctuation or capitalization here, for increased clarity, especially since the last five bits of an ASCII code give one of 26 letters in the English alphabet.

In summary, the crop artists sent us a brief “computer recorded message” on CD or DVD, to accompany their TV-type image of a grey alien. Was Crabwood really alien-made? Many investigators thought so then, and continue to think so now….

And then there’s *Maebaleia’s* Crabwoo, she ponders further, another rectangular box (2 side-by-side, square shaped sims) whose northwest corner just touched the eastern edge of the Blue Feather Sea.

Original capital of the North before its decline and eventual death circa AL 1812-1814. Ur home of Blue Feather Douglas who derived his her name from the sea. Her arch-enemy. Her… sister? Doppleganger? Is he even a she? We’ll most likely find out soon enough.

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Filed under *Second Life, Golden Sink, Maebaleia/Satori^^

Cassandra


‘”I come here as a representative of the great, honorable Blue Feather Douglas, Marcus Fox Smartville. Who do you represent?”

“Also the forces of good and evil,” Marcus shot back smartly. “Your Mama in my case.”

“*Your* Mama. Good enough I suppose. Anyway, let’s hash out a deal. And I don’t mean drugs.”

“Of course.” Smart again.

“I should apologizes for my protege Eighty-eight not showing up. The astrologer gave her some bad news. Turns out — get this — the stars say she’s an *Aquarius*”.

“Oh.”

“The dreaded sign which seems to be water but is actually air. The most misunderstood of them all. I think the stress opened her up to that flu everyone ’round here seems to be coming down with.”

“You feel okay? Did the breakfast help any? Sometimes when I eat…”

“I didn’t eat,” she protested. “I *nibbled*. The only, real way to a really long life is nibbling. Full stomach foods will get you killed by the age of 88. Unless you’re mowed down by a gun earlier on. Like those people in Gunn City, Missouri, US of A. Now I like a vigilante as much as the next duchess or duke, but I prefer corrections through verbal acerbity rather than, well, steel on bone.”

“I agree. Wholeheartedly. Pen over sword — that kind of thing.”

“The tongue is mightier than the quill,” Tracy Austin (Wheeler Wilson) fleshed out. “Nothing like a good tongue lashing (for corrections). You should know all about that.”

Marcus Fox Smartville sticks out his tongue here, revealing the diamond inlaid steel ring piercing it. “Sthiny,” he says while his tongue is still projecting, also pointing to the object. Not so smart now. Something is actually quite wrong with the male in the current post. He had a breakdown in his early twenties and some say his mind hasn’t quite recovered, and that he’s actually more sucker than smart. Like Sunklands Sucklands sucker, reading patterns (synchronicity) where they don’t exist (randomness). Your Mama thinks this. And, behind her, Grey Scale Kimball, who they needed to talk about next.

“Why didn’t you say you represented Grey Scale Kimball instead?” asked Tracy Austin on cue, indicating the house around them. Grey’s House.

I can answer that. Because Kensington’s Turtle Hill, aka The Green Turtle, had been skipped over. Negotiations concerning the War of Aggressions have moved to Cassandra City in the Deep South, where correct history will always place them. Corrections again… tongue lashing. Your Mama gave Marcus Fox Smartville an earful on that hill. He wonders when the smarting will stop. Not here for certain. Not in this Deep South residence.

(to be continued?)

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Filed under *Second Life, Cassandra City, Hills of Bill, Maebaleia/Satori^^

SIF

Where am I? Oh, I teleported to the center of the wrong SIF. One of two instead of two of two. But what’s that ahead of me? A light. Could this be another possible clue uncovered by pure synchronicity once more? I moved forward…

… and eventually came here to the edge of a rather large if redundant pine forest illuminated by the dawn’s early light. “Horns,” I speak aloud, looking at the teleporter design in front of me. “The devil inside: this must be another stepping stone.” I decided to call in Wheeler Wilson since I’d already talked to Bracket.


One.

—–

“Why are we here, Baker Bloch?” she asked after teleporting in.

Baker Bloch? I think. I’m… then I realized she’s right. I remembered who I was. Then I told her why she was here.

“Well, she began again after shaking her head a bit. “I wouldn’t call us exactly *friends*” She then called me a thing I cannot write here for reading. She had me (in a pickle). She then took off one of her shoes and made a phone call on it, something I understandably wasn’t expecting, even though I am *Smart*. The person on the other end? Someone named Eighty-eight. She prefaced the call (and the pulling off of the shoe) by stating she was phoning up her *own* friend.

“Eighty-eight?” she asked the person on the phone, whom I soon realized had that name. “Where are you?” Buzzing on the line. “I have Baker Bloch here. He’s trying to reach The End again.” More buzzing. “14th, I think.” Buzzing. “I know. We weren’t expecting it this soon either. He’s just going around trying to phone up friends, kind of like what I’m doing to you. Perhaps it’s catching.” She smiles at me with this. A sweet smile, surprising me. Hmm. “Meet us in Cassandra City,” she closed. “At the Grey’s House.” Hmm, again.

—-

Eighty-eight soon phoned back (shoe again pulled off; answered), and told Wheeler that she just realized she had an appointment with an astrologer this evening and that they’d have to postpone a trip to Cassandra City for another night. So with that I took my leave of Wheeler and teleported over into the 2nd (and final) SIF sim, the one where Sweet Alice’s aunt has dealings with. I knew who this was now. Your Mama.

Maybe I should put down the flower.

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Filed under *Second Life, Blue Feather Sea, Hills of Bill, Maebaleia/Satori^^

Broken

“Kate,” requested her mother. “What do you see now?”

*Katy* listened to the patterns in her ears. “War, of course,” she answered shortly, then paused, hands on headphones.

“Do you see a Jellyfish? Or a Mermaid?” optioned Tracy.

“Umm. Both!”

“Explain.”

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Filed under *Second Life, Blue Feather Sea, Maebaleia/Satori^^

centering 03

“Mermaid? What the flying f-ck? We always called that the Jellyfish.”

“Just humor me, Uncle Bob.”

“Uncle Bob?”

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Filed under *Second Life, Blue Feather Sea, Maebaleia/Satori^^

back in Maebaleia…

“Ah ha. Finally found a use for that wearable pipe chair you gave me last Christmas.”

“Thanks for showing up Tracy. Like I said, I can’t find him anywhere. We were just scouting around the center of the continent, looking at places. We came here. I realized I had to go do something with the kid again and told him to just stay put till I got back. Then when I returned — and a long drive it was all the way from Pipersville — he’s not here. We talked about renting this house. Real cheap rent. In fact…”

“… it’s free,” finished his lover-on-the-side Tracy Austin. “I saw the sign outside. But this one is rented.”

“It’s in arrears,” he explains. “Just checking out the furniture.”

“Well I *hope* the real renter doesn’t come back.”

“He won’t. *They* won’t.” Second Life is so empty now, he thinks not for the first nor last time. Middle of continents — basically a wasteland.

“So dark in here,” complained Tracy Austin. “Can we get some light in this place? Will these blinds open?”

“Sure.” Craighead Phillips Option 01 touched the blinds to his side and back, automatically opening them.

Tracy Austin peered out. “What’s all this?”

Craighead Phillips Option 01 looked too. “I don’t know. Earth, I suppose.”

Interested, Tracy Austin moved toward the side window to take a closer look at something.

“2701 Bland Road,” she recited, then turned back toward Craighead. “This place got a computer?”

“No, but there’s one down at the office. I spotted it while trying to get out of this town the first time.”

“Do you have a key?” Both laughed at this.

—–

“Well. Is it there? Did you find it?”

“Just a moment,” Tracy Austin requested while still typing away. Then: “Ahh. *Bingo*.” She indicated the screen. “There it is. The same sign.

That’s where he is!”

Craighead Phillips Option 01 put hand to lip. “Jeepers I guess we’ll have to go in after him, then. I can’t exist, I don’t suppose, without Option 02.”

“*You’re* going in. I’m staying here with Katy. If something happens to you I’ll tell her you went away. To France.”

“Uh, I’m not going without a gun. I’ve heard stories…”

“Alright, Uncle Bob has a gun. We’ll go see him first. Then you’ll say goodbye to Katy. Hopefully not for the last time.”

“I know you’re joking…”

“I am?”

“Things use to be better between us.”

“Listen, Craighead. Craighead Phillips Option *01*. We gave you The Freedom, all you wanted. Blue Feather Sea, patterns. Astrologers around every corner. *Everyone* knows their sign. No chance involved in the playing of dice or cards. Freedom — Katy and I. Yet you still hang around with your other family.”

“My *actual* family,” Craighead Phillips corrected, not helping the situation.

“Alright.” Tracy Austin got up from the computer table. “Alright if it’s going to be like this I have a confession. I’ve been seeing someone else. A sailor of the Blue Feather Sea. Older man, admittedly, but I think it’s something real. We may even…”

“Get married?” Craighead was incredulous. “How old?”

“50, 55. Maybe 60. He’s *cool*. He has a good sense of humor. He’s built like a soldier and swears like a pilot. Katy’s met him, but she doesn’t know the circumstances. Yet.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Wouldn’t I?”

(to be continued?)

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Filed under *Second Life, Hills of Bill, Maebaleia/Satori^^

Pipersville

“Come on, Preston Weston. It’s time to go into town.”

“Aww, maww. Do I have to? I always get burrs on me passing through that small forest on the the way, heh.”

“Now, now. That cute, little Felicia Mae Appletree might be at the laundromat, hmmm?”

And her *mother*, Preston thinks. Saturdays are *so* cool. He resets his zapper gun to smooch mode. “Okay. You talked me into it.”

—–

“Almost there, Preston,” Your Mama encourages.

“Jeez! Dang burrs.”

—–

I’m just going to pass that place by, Your Mama thinks when stepping onto Brown Street, named for 1/2 of the famed Brown-Bower team of Sinkologists. What put Pipersville on the map!

And those too.

“Jeez, ma. Walk on the sidewalk will ya.” But she didn’t want to get too close to any of those doors over there. Too tempting…

—–

“What happened to the laundromat?” Your Mama asked aloud.

“Creepers ma, I-I don’t know.”

She throws her sack of clothes down in the middle of the road in disgust. “And no water in the sinkhole (as a backup). Damn sinkhole.”

“Maa!” Preston protests, knowing you’re not suppose to cuss that sacred cow ’round these here parts. He scans the area to see if anyone overheard the faux pas. Your Mama cusses again. And again, beginning to stomp on the sack of soiled clothes with all her might. “STINKING SINK HOOOOLLLE!” she hollars in crescendo, then collapses beside the battered sack, crying. Preston goes over and tries to comfort in his own, special way. “Aww maa. Not the tears again. Did, heh, I ever tell you how Antarctica became frozen?”

“Preston, dear, please. Not now.” Not ever, she thought. Because she’d made up her mind. She was leaving.

—–

Spiky-headed Craighead Phillips shut the book. “And that’s how Preston Weston got lost in his dreams, Katy. No tether to reality any longer. The End.”

Tracy Austin (Clown) weighed in. “I don’t think that’s an appropriate book for a child, dear.”

“I disagree,” gruffed Phillips in his whiney voice. “It’s got kids written all over it.”

“One kid.”

“Yeah, dad,” offered Katy, wise beyond her years (but, after all, not a kid at the core). “Couldn’t you, I don’t know, chip in or something. He was *your* son after all.”

“Yes,” spoke Tracy again. “I agree. One of your Options should have been chipping in.”

Phillips sighed, realizing he’d have to go back in time again and switch things around. Damn sinkhole.

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Filed under *Second Life, Maebaleia/Satori^^, Pipersville/Sink X, White Horse Village