Tag Archives: TronAxis^*

it is chicken it is eggs

Despite appearances, this wasn’t Mars outside. But then again, neither was this Baker Bloch in front of us sitting on the top of the couch, surfaces deceiving again. You can check his black brim hat if you don’t believe me. Slightly iridescent, like a dulled adobe shell. Baker Bloch’s is properly black, like midnight on a sunless moon.

What’s Fake Baker staring at? Is he waiting for someone? Yes, he’s waiting for somone. Because this is actually Tropp again, about to get together with Treelor, Axis be damned (and he is). Tropp is in charge here — always. I don’t know how that happened, honestly, but there it is.

Wendell “Biff” Carter is also Tropp. That is, they have the same core avatar. Wheeler is her own core, Baker Bloch too. Baker Blinker, Karoz Blogger, Hucka Doobie, and several others: the same. We went over all that in photo-novel 13. I know you were paying attention. So we’re dealing with a core issue. And Axis is also the same as Tropp, actually, both forming within 2 posts of each other back in photo-novel 8 (I’m sure you remember).

The actual location: New Eden, certainly a different place in these here photo-novels, a special place perhaps. Unique, but maybe not in a good way. The snake slithers forwards, holding an apple in its mouth. Peter Gabriel from Genesis can’t remove a Gentle Giant “Giant for a day” mask and remains noncommercial, unable to become the pop star he wishes and be free of the weight. So close these bands are, yet so far apart. In hypertime, I suppose, they could be the same. Like Dick and Dickens; like Johnson and Johnson. We’re not really talking reincarnation. We’re talking the same *gestalt* I guess you could put it. Outside of time again — there’s probably a heap of additional clues out there if one wishes to search.

Axis himself has played the role of Peter through Tronaxis, a nod to the audiovisual synchronicity Tronesis, a melding of Genesis (Lamb) and the original Tron movie. This was the weight. Wherever Peter went in his solo career, the Lamb was sure to follow, like a dark companion of sorts. He could either move forward into Peter O’esso and a successful solo career — *commercial* success (like a car) — or slink backwards into pre-Lamb where the red cross dominates. There’s so much more to this…

And in the exact middle we have the Lamb dying with Ram. More gestalts. Fused… somethings.

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New God

“Paperville. It’s certainly an interesting concept, Hucka. And I might have met Zappa here. It’s like he just strolled by when I was walking my cow around like a Monkee. Said my music was too white, and I indicated my body, which is very white indeed. Well, cream colored. Skin colored — see there how racist I am Hucka Doobie? I think of skin as white, cream, but there’s all hues. Red, yellow, green —

“Not yet,” Hucka Doobie replied about the last. “Mabel is a forerunner.”

“Of course.”

“But to the Pen Temple. It’s actually Penntemple.”

“So I see. Like Paperville is almost Paperville but not quite. And then there’s Pageville somehow, er, laid atop Paperville. Like, well, a transparent, um, page or something.”

“Fifty-six. Look into fifty-six.”


Peter walks through the tunnel leading to the temple and changes into a former form in the process.


Pens within. And some pencils.


A secret door, leading to…


Home. Director’s seat. Axis Original, Authentic.


Now to get to back to work.

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NWES City

“Yes I remember now. It was called the Red Rose and I was Peter (Peet) at the time. Before the explosion that destroyed Club 88, you see, and accompanying Little Jimmy, the lesser boom. This would have been, oh, ’88 I think?”

“’98,” corrected Venus Flytrap, by his side all this time, an Ant to his Uncle. “But what about *my* place, the bar (across the street). Noodle?”

“It appears so,” Axis aka TronAxis replied. “And the battymobile was still intact,” he added, zooming into the garage of the building now. “Mr. Fix It was fixing it up.”

“Perfect,” responded Venus. “It all makes sense now. Red Rose; Marty; The Lamb/Ram fusion (Rupert). We must then inquire about Legos.”

“Later,” requested Axis. They had enough for the moment.


Marty and Harry’s son.

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more

“I *want* to get better,” bubbled a depressed Messed Up from a similarly colorful and confusing couch. “I — have a new love in my life. I’m motivated!”

“That’s great, Ms. Up,” responded Dr. Young Kane (played by Axis aka TronAxis). “I’m glad you have a reason to change. Makes my job easier.”

“You — may know him actually,” Messed Up sloshed haltingly again, knowing more than she let on.

“Oh?”

“Yes.” And then she spilled his name.

—–

“Young *Harris*,” spat out Dr. Young Kane later to his imaginary wife sitting below him, more cartoonish tonight than usual but still sporting the perfunctory blue-green hair.

“The reason you came *here*,” she returned. “Where are we going with this?”

“I — was going to ask you that.”

“I think — we should go to bed now. We can think better in the morning. With our coffee, eggs and tea.”

“*No*,” Axis said firmly. “We’re going to *figure* this out *tonight*.” His voice was pitched just below a yell now. “*Why* is she here?”

“New patient,” said Venus cooly from below. “You need the money.” She stared at The Sun between them, the rays. “It’s the Corona–”

“*Stop* saying that word. I’m sick to death of hearing it.”

“–V Drink,” she dared to finish. “The deal is almost done.”

—–

He finds himself in a different place, sporting the Esso t-shirt once more. Peter Oesso now, formerly Peter Osseo formerly Peter Esso. “Like an opossum,” he explained to Randolph the pirate beside Storybrook’s Gatcha Warehouse about the newest name. Fresh from another hand washing he is.

“Possum; opossum. I *think* I get it.” He turns toward the effigy of Mr. Fix It against the Black Elephant with the graffiti art. “So that’s It, huh? The man you killed to get that gas station.”

“I *didn’t* kill him. It was just a — convenience.”

“Convenience *store*.”

“In the future,” Peter Oesso admitted to the bastard buccaneer.

“So, are we on for 500 more cases of the often deadly brewskies? Or are you done with it now? The killing and all.”

“I — have a confession.” And it was here Peter Oesso told Randolph the Bastard Pirate about the conjoined trunks streams.

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violet 03

“How the hell are you Hucka Doobie?”

“I’m doing fine *Wheeler*.” She wasn’t playing the Venus Flytrap game here. Not now not ever.

Venus/Wheeler nods toward the 2 men in the room, trying to make a divide between here and there. “Those Bozos, eh? What are we doing hanging around with *them*?”

“Can’t live with them nor without them I suppose,” answers Hucka, still busy slicing the mushrooms and carrots. Can’t Wheeler *help*? she thinks to herself. What a lazy woman! And she’s working while the men talk about the blog. *She’s* an owner too. Both Wheeler and herself. We’re all core, she wanted to say over to them. How about letting us in on the action.

“Axis is such a tiger, though,” states Wheeler, revealing too much for Hucka Doobie. She knows she won’t have any similar stories to share about Baker Bloch. *Both* know this.

“Yeah, well that’s good. Tell me all the details, Wheeler. About the positions and such. Do you do aerial?”

“Maybe,” Wheeler replies quickly then hops down off the cabinet and walks toward the table. “Aren’t you guys finished? Can we all become one again now?”

Hucka Doobie couldn’t watch. She cut mushroom after mushroom then carrot after carrot, not turning around.

“Let’s talk, Venus. About Philip Marz and his role in all this.”

Oh *brother*, Hucka thinks, shaking her head while still slicing away. Mars again.

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violet too

“The blog owners were here inquiring about progress,” TronAxis speaks down to an imaginary Venus Flytrap, his estranged partner for the moment. “They’re asking about the Kate McCoy/Katy Kidd timeline, wondering how long it will take to get back to the Storybrook story, the main one.”

“Nineteen,” she says upwards.

“What’s that dear?”

“We’re on nineteen. The Sun.”

“The Who?”

—–

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violet consultation

“Katy is a difficult nut to crack,” continued TronAxis in his Tyranea office while Baker Bloch and Hucka Doobie furiously take notes, trying to shorten the night so that another post can be created after the present one. “Oh. Sorry I guess I should have put that another way, ahem. Kate is a difficult *case* to crack–”

“You said she still can’t tell what time it is, what year it is?” uttered Hucka Doobie, attempting to move things along.

“That’s right. One moment she’s little Katy Kidd, stuck in a purple house with an abusive mother, and then the next she’s Kate McCoy, all grown up and back in reality. How long has she been here now?” he inquired partly to himself, partly to the “guardians” Baker and Hucka sitting before him. “5 years I would guess,” he answers while looking up, then looks left. “And the purple house still sits right over there in the opposite corner of the sim. Vacant — the mother’s been dead that long. Still she torments this poor woman-child from the grave.”

Baker’s turn now. He lifts pencil from pad while starting his question. “How about the sphere? She hasn’t strayed down the path of Blue Berry Girl and gone all nudist on us? I’m not (he flips a page, checking notes before he speaks again) sure why — (flips more) she was hired actually. Wasn’t she a former patient?”

“Of Dr. Baumbeer my predecessor, yes,” answers TronAxis, trying to be as transparent as possible within the framework of client-patient confidentiality. “Blue Berry Girl is a very capable therapist, and there’s no therapist like one who understands the patient’s viewpoint, which she does.”

“And Vain and Artery Boy–” Both men in the room stare at bee-woman Hucka, more woman than ever now her antennae have permanently retracted into her skull. They know she’s on the wrong timeline, and could set them back precious minutes, seconds. They decide not to answer her and advance to the next subject. But they then speak at the same time.

“After you, Mr. Bloch,” TronAxis graciously allows.

“No, after you sir. You’re the doctor after all. The new one.”

“Alright, if you insist, thank you.”

(to be continued?)

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Youngs’ town

Axis felt it should be *him* sitting there, talking to Kind Of. Not this Prof. *Young* Harris. Young, indeed. Gone around the South Bend if you ask him, far far from the North, pheh. But it is what it is at this point. Let’s focus in on the conversation.

“I haven’t been to Strange Creek in a long long time, Mr. Messed Up 02.”

“*Kind Of* Messed Up 02,” Kind Of corrects, knowing he wasn’t — yet — on the nutty level of his master actually named Messed Up. He kind of explains this to Prof. Young Harris, then, who nods in semi-understanding.

“I had a mother once, who was kind and then messed up. I think I understand.”

Kind Of moved on. He said things were even weirder in Strange Creek these days, thus the furthering of the name. “It’s *Stranger*,” he punctuates.

Prof. Young Harris then has an idea, and points up in a Eureka moment. “Cyan!” he exclaims quite loudly, pricking Axis’ ears even more.

He imagines his wife standing before him. “What have I done?” he asks. “*I* had to be Young Kane instead. The transgressions.” He shakes his head while she stares steady. He thinks he should probably get back to her…

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fixing

The wrong Baker Bloch has moved on. Peter then manifests the hole in the plot physically in Sanderton. “A *rose* would help,” he says while energizing the situation, as he can.  And so he becomes one. Peter Rose — Peet Rose. An Old Red Star. Back to the past we go. He moves within.

Sorry, he’s having a little trouble.

—–

He – moves — *within.*

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Filed under **VIRTUAL, 0019, 0115, Corsica^^, Splinterwood^

red chair

Baker Bloch eats alone in Sanderton. He knows he’s at the end of his rope. All he has left is improvisation.

The lag meter is low today. He can invite someone else in to dine with him. Who will it be tonight? So many to choose from.

But he decides on Axis, since he knows he should enter the current story sometime but hasn’t yet. Might as well get it over with. They switch places for a particular reason, one with the other.

“How’s Venus?” he begins about Wheeler with her new name, her new doo.

“She’s all right tonight,” spoke Axis levelly. “Mars too.”

“You, then.”

“Um. Yeah.”

“And you are Peter as well, Axis.” He indicates Axis’ outfit with a nod of his head while still eating his cherry pie that’s he’s moved across the table with him. “The Tron thing and all. Seems you are *stuck*.”

“I am,” Axis replied plainly, continuing to stare. He hadn’t rezzed any food. He didn’t know how long he would be here. Needed to get back to Venus…

“I’ve been seeing Hucka Doobie myself.”

“Oh?” From Axis’ surprised look on his face, Baker Bloch knew what he was thinking.

“No, no, not *that* kind of seeing.”

“Oh.” The tone was flat now.

“No, we’ve been talking about the plot, the paper or papers it is written upon, and the holes therein.” He takes another bite, cleaning the fork as well, per usual. “Thought — well, thought you might have some thoughts on it tonight. I’m, er, (bite) kind of at the end of my rope.” He pondered the elephant again just around the corner, and the various parts.

“Follow your nose,” Axis said, then disappeared.

Baker Bloch took a couple more bites before uttering, “Well, that was a lot of help.”

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