Guy has a dream where he is calling the fox through music.
“Put down that silly instrument that you can’t play properly anyway. We’re related!”
Newtonia Kashkow inserts herself back in the picture (MOO). She’s ready to give the password.
—–
Guy Benjamin wakes up. “Shite! So close.”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0609, Kowloon+
Axis again worships Lu Ellen Hutchison (or Hutchinson) before entering his NWES coffee shop. Who is now his wife, at least last time he checked (Wednesday).
He enters the coffee shop proper…
… only to see two avatars sitting at his favorite table instead of the one he expected. The conversation already taking place was briefly interrupted.
“There he is,” whispered Man About Time to Tracy Austin. “Behind the column. It’s as if he doesn’t think we can *see*.”
They talked about many things that night, the two of them and then all three together when Axis finally came out of “hiding”. One by one (by one), they began to understand all revolved around Peter — after all, the only Variant at The Table who was never a Variant. Peter and “Lamb”. They vowed, 3 hands clasped together at the center of *this* table (standing, remorseful Axis from the side), that Grandpapa didn’t die in Vain. Because, of course, we already know he died in Kowloon. His “Lamb” will live on.
“I am pleased,” I can hear him say from that Great Elderly Center in the Sky, lost cane back in hand again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0517, Jeogeot, Kowloon+, Neptune, NWES Island
“I’m going to make you partially transparent so don’t panic.”
“Okay, here’s the problem. Or deal. *I* sit on the black stool that represents the 8 ball. 88 01 (let’s say), you are on the orange “2” stool and 88 02 (we’ll say), you’re perched on the yellow “3”. Wheeler then considered something else. “Stool, huh.” She then took a remote picture before returning to the 87 Room.
Room 61
“Alright, so between you is an XVideos labelled laptop that, to me, obviously is suppose to represent “x” as in *times* something. But 3 *times* 2 (she points to the 3 associated objects in turn) equals 6. Added to my 8 (stool) you get 86. But this is (Room) 87.
If you consider the X might be a cross (+) it goes even one further from the truth, since 80 (points to herself) plus 3 (points to 88 01) plus 2 (points to 88 02) equals 85. Now the XVideos laptop sits on a stool representing the 1 ball in pool, the blue one. To me, this *must* represent Blue Eye, the missing one in either Arkansas or Missouri. So here’s the solution, people. I’m 80, you guys are 3 *times* 2 or 6, and then the stool, the one, when added in at last — *not* multiplied — brings us to the needed 87. You have to count the missing one hidden by the X to make sense of it all.
“So what’s the problem?” I asked just beyond the wall.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0414, 100 Story Building-, Kowloon+
“It’s time to take one of you observing 88’s to the room to see what went missing. Maybe both of you. Yeah: both.”
—–
“First, a little wine before we start. Sorry you can’t have any, guys.” (sip)
“Guys? Can you hear me?”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0413, 100 Story Building-, Blue Feather Sea+, Kowloon+
“It’s *glorious* in here, Col. Bucket.” She splashes some water in happiness. “Come on in!”
“I — can’t get — this *bucket* off,” the smaller person in the 90 room complains, yanking with all her might.
“Oh come in anyway. It’ll get a little soggy — so what? It’ll fall off naturally then.” Blue Feather was adamant. Col. Bucket must join her!
“You don’t understand, Blue Feather. That *is* your name? Right?”
“Yeees. You know my name, Col. We’re related.”
“We are?” Her voice was muffled by the bucket, but still strong and youthful. They were indeed related. “How?”
“You are my cousin.”
“Hmm,” Col. instantly responded, not surprised. “I think everyone is everyone else’s cousin to some degree — I — I — read that.” She remembers her primary task and begins yanking again. The bucket must come off! She must see straight once more!
“Here.” Blue Feather rises out of the water, but becomes instantly dry. She goes over, and in another instant, removes the bucket easily from the Col.’s head.
But, trouble is, the Col. disappears with the action. We’ll see her again soon, though.
Blue Feather cusses, complaining that she’s lost another one.
She leans down and begins to fill up the bucket again.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0404, 100 Story Building-, Blue Mountain, Kowloon+, Red Hill
“And you’re sure about that?”
*Yes* Marcus Fox *Smart*ville. And put down that silly rose. We’re related (!)”
Marcus Fox Smartville complied. “Sure, sure.” He starts to recite the password but is halted at “z-“.
“Keep it down,” Tracy Austin hissed at him, and then motioned toward the snowman across the cavern coffee shop from them. “Ultima Thule is *everywhere*”
“Eva?” Marcus F. Smartville questioned, then bit his tongue. He knew what Tracy Austin was on about now. End of a world.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0017, 0102, Jeogeot, Neptune, NWES Island
“I *knew* I’d find you here, Eighty-eight.”
“Yeah. You know I can only get so far from you, Apple of My Life.”
“How’s your flu going?” Sarcasm.
Eighty-eight didn’t answer, but instead looked to the door. The door to *her* night club. She was the Star. It all revolved around her. Like planets.
“You gonna stick around and hear me play?” she then asked, not seeing the person enter that she wanted to. Her voice was steady, unfaltering. She knew what she was doing and was in command. Not Tracy Austin Newtonia Kashkow. The latter wasn’t use to that and didn’t like it. Not one bite she didn’t.
—–
She sat at the drum kit, calmly waiting while the singer and keyboardist remained frozen around her (like planets).
Her lover entered with the sphere.
“Sorry I’m late.”
Just afterwards his car parked outside burst into flames. Like the Sun.
—–
“I think I get it,” exclaimed actress Alice Frame in her rented apartment next to Spunky’s while reading the latest script. “Ingo is controlled by the Sphere, the Sphere is controlled by…”
—–
“HIT IT!”
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0214, Jeogeot, Neptune, NWES Island
The continent is a wheel, The Man About Time thinks on the upstairs balcony of the 9th house he tried. Success finally? But 12:37: *time* for dinner.
—–
So I’ve marked that place with the filling recipe. You *still* want the apple pie, don’t you dear? ‘Cause I’m going to a lot of trouble with this.” She calls over while still washing her hands. “Dear? (pause) *Dear??*”
“Oh, sorry.” He looks down at the place setting and the contents. Apparently I’ll just do with the one apple right now, he thinks to himself, but says: “Sure. Er, since you’ve gone to all the trouble to find the recipe and all.” He again stares over at the lemon and lime on the far table.
The lemon and lime stared back at him.
“Um, *dear*?”
“Yes, husband of mine?” She was washing the last fingers.
“Do we still have that copy of ‘Floydada’ laying around somewhere?”
“Floy-*whata*?” She finally turns. It was then that Newtonia Kashkow realized the man sitting at the table with all the apples wasn’t her husband atall.
—-
“And *stay* out!” SLAM.
Oh well. On to the 10th!
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0016, 0103, Bellisaria, Humansville
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.
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0015, 0205, Georgia, Golden Sink, Maebaleia/Satori, Maine
‘”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 apologize 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 hate a vigilante as much as the next duchess or duke. 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?)
Filed under **VIRTUAL SL, 0014, 0704, Cass City+, Hills of Bill, Maebaleia/Satori
Sunklands 