December 20, 2019

December 19, 2019

In Memoriam

My dearest Blogger family,

Today we mourn the loss of a friend. I know those of us who are still present on Blogger are spread out far across the net and separated by a lack of connective algorithms; but we are still a community that can stick together like few others can. In 2018, Desmond Frias of the blog "Into the Mind of Desmond" met with an untimely demise.

Desmond was an innovative writer here on Blogger. He was like all of us. He had an appreciation for the little things and could find ways to weave that beauty into words. He struggled with the mystery of existence and sometimes fought to find some significance. He came to this place to write his thoughts, much like all of us, and then left in the way that we all eventually do.

Desmond came to Blogger in 2009 in pursuit of an easy place to track his thoughts and feelings for his future self; an online journal if you will. He blogged for 8 years until 2017 where he announced that would only be blogging once a year. He claimed to have never been persistent in anything, and that it was a miracle that he had blogged for as long as he did. I for one am glad that he wrote out his thoughts for so long. As he now rests in another land, his blog is his legacy.

On January 26, 2018 Desmond met with an unfortunate bike accident. According to his friend Lenin, the church was packed at his funeral. My condolences go out to his friends and family.

Desmond is not the first blogger that I have found deceased; but I thought it appropriate to share his life and lack thereof with all of you. It does us good to mourn the dead so we can find our own peace in traveling the first and final journey we are assigned at birth. Long live Desmond.

Long live the King.

December 15, 2019

The Immortal Assembly

"Papa," my daughter asks hesitantly, "Why do you look so much younger than mama?"


"Because I am an Immortal," I replied sweeping the stray strands of dark hair from her face.


"You've told me that, papa; but what does that mean?"


"It's a long story, my dear; a story that carries the weight of a thousand generations. It is not becoming of a father to bestow such a burden on his daughter until she is of age to bear it."


Her blue eyes sparkled pleadingly. "Please, papa? I can handle it!"


I breathed a deep sigh. "I suppose you ought to know what future awaits you. Come and sit with me, little moonchild. I shall tell you the secrets that I have kept for centuries."


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She smiled wide and climbed up into my lap. We rocked back and forth as I drew from a story as old as time.


"When God scattered mankind at Babel, the human race spread to the very ends of this fruitful planet. But the archangel Gabriel saw that the human race was without sound leaders and wise people to guide these nomadic groups. So he selected seven people-one from every continent-to guide the masses. He took favor on these chosen leaders and gave them many gifts. Among other abilities, he gave them immortality."


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We grew up together. All but one.


"Immortals cannot die. There must always be 7 immortals to guide the lost sheep of this darkened world. We do not age, and we do not decay. We can only be set free by passing on our gifts to a worthy legacy. As you know, our family is of proud Indian heritage, and we bear the immortality of Asia with us always. One day, my daughter, you will receive these gifts as well. You are heiress to the immortal mantle and the archangel gifts that I bear. If you one day choose to accept my wings I will promptly wither away and die, but you shall live forever."


My daughter's eyes grew teary upon this news. "But papa!" she exclaimed defiantly, "I don't want you to die!"




I held her tight and gently wiped the tears from her eyes. "My dear little one, please do not cry for me, for I have lived for years upon years; centuries longer than any man should have to suffer through. I have laughed, loved, cried, and buried those who were dear to me. If you do not to take this upon yourself, I understand. But I do not think I could bear to one day see your grave."


We spoke no more and were contented to hold each other tightly, clutching the moment we were in like a cliffside as the abyss of time's cruel progression loomed darkly below us. As we wiped our tears away, there was a sharp and desperate knock on the door.


I rushed to answer it only to find Lee, the Immortal of North America. Her wings are made of arcing electricity, but they are not the normal bright blue that they tend to glow. Lee was hunched over, heaving heavy breaths. Her auburn hair was scattered from the wind and her brow was drenched in sweat. Her electric wings looked ragged and wilted. She continued to pant, unable to speak. "Good grief, dearie! Do you need some water?" I asked urgently. She held up a single finger, begging me to give her a moment to catch her breath. My daughter watched from behind the rocking chair, frightened at the sudden appearance of a mysterious stranger.


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Lee took a deep breath and forced herself to stand upright. Though normally calm and collected, her brown eyes were full of desperation as they flicked back and forth. "There's an emergency. Mr. Kova has summoned the Assembly of Immortals. We're meeting at the South Pole."


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I interjected. "The Assembly? But they haven't convened in millennia! And Kova is a myth. We always joked that he had been frozen in ice this whole time, remember? There's no way that there's still a surviving member of the original Seven! This has to be a hoax!"




"I'm afraid not," said Lee, "Kova is real, and if he's come out of hiding, it means something big is going down."


I looked at my daughter, who was now joined by her sister and mother. My wife looked at me with knowing eyes. "Go," said my wife, the strongest woman I shall ever know, "I'll hold down the fort. Call me as soon as you can."


I stepped over and held my family tight. "Papa will be home soon, my dear." I assured them. "I will return as soon as I can. Everything is going to be okay." I kissed them all and wished them well. It had been many years since I had left my home, but I felt a disturbance in my soul as I stepped out the door.


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So I spread my wings of lightening and flew like hell.


Long live the King

December 13, 2019

No Such Thing As Sanity

I held her shaking shoulders as she sobbed.


"I don't want to feel this way," she cried, "Will I feel crazy forever?"


We held each other in silence, like lost little children who have realized that the sun is setting. I squeezed her tightly as I tried to remind her that there is always darkness before the dawn.


"It's quite alright to be crazy, my dear. And besides...


See the source image


... we're all mad here."


Long live the King

December 12, 2019

Queen of the Sea

"Who is that mermaid in the painting, papa?" my daughter asks.


"That is your mother, of course," I say as I brush her coffee-colored curls.


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"It doesn't look very much like her," she objects, "why does she look so different?"


"My little Sunshine, your mother was once a beautiful mermaid and queen of the sea. That is why she has ocean eyes. But she gave up her tail to be with papa."





"How did it happen,  papa?"


"There was once a prince with hair and eyes as black as coal. He was estranged from his throne and took to traveling distant lands while researching all the cultures he found.


The prince found himself upon the cusp of clear lagoon that bordered the sea. He made camp for the night and awoke to see a beautiful woman in the water. Her eyes were a shining grey like the sea on a stormy night and her long, golden-red hair sparkled brightly in the morning sun.


Now Winter was quickly setting upon on this coast, and the woman asked the prince if he could keep her warm. Always the gentleman, the prince reached into his saddlebag and collected some spices and dried leaves that he had gathered on his travels to the Eastern Isles. He lit a fire and boiled the ingredients into a sweet, spiced beverage and gave it to the woman in the water. The drink was warm and aromatic as it tingled in the back of the woman's throat and warmed her chest. The prince had charmed her with his kindness and she fell in love.


The woman revealed herself to be the queen of the sea. She governed the vast oceans with the rest of the royal family and was charged with caring for all the small sea creatures. To some, she was known as the kindly Seahorse Queen. She showed the prince her tail, expecting him to flee as humans are known to do when faced with the unknown. But the prince was unfazed and kissed the queen's hand in greeting.


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The Seahorse Queen was taken with this prince of the land, and she gave him a token of her appreciation: the royal trident, Riptide. She knew he would use it to keep peace in the land of humans. The prince took it with gratitude, but he feared the queen would be left defenseless, so he reached into his cloak and retrieved his golden dagger which he called Midas.


"It's coated in pure gold, your majesty, so it won't rust under the water," said the prince.


"I shall carry it always, my sweet prince." said the Sea Queen.


"Will you be returning to the ocean now?" The prince asked hesitantly.


"I'm afraid I cannot return to my home," said the queen, "for a horrible storm arose behind me and washed me into this lagoon from which I cannot escape. I have been stuck here for many days as a barrier of land bars me from swimming back into the ocean."


"Then I shall stay with you, your highness. If you are to be stuck here, then so shall I be."


The queen was grateful, and the prince stayed by the shore for many weeks. In the mornings the young, dark prince would brew his spiced tea to warm the pair; come evening they would chat about the fantastic worlds they have seen and would talk late into the night.


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As time went on, the days grew colder and the rogue prince would dig his trench between the edge of the lagoon and the tideline of the ocean. After several days of tireless digging, the prince finally broke through the barriers on each end of his trench, creating a canal that connected the lagoon and the ocean.


It was a tight fit for the mermaid queen to swim through, but with enough wriggling she managed to swim out gracefully into the ocean where she waved a somber goodbye to the prince before disappearing into the murky depths of the sea from whence she came. The prince waved backed forlornly before trudging back to the camp that he had come to see as the two's home. He slept next to the shore as always, gazing up at the stars and wishing that he could see the beautiful mermaid just one last time.


The prince awoke at sunrise and began to pack up his horse as he no longer had reason to remain by the sea. As he went to brew one final pot of spiced Chai, he saw a beautiful head of golden-red hair emerge from the waters. The queen had returned with a book of spells that she had procured from the royal library beneath the waves.


"Why have you returned?" asked the prince, confused but elated to see the mermaid again.


"Do you want me to be with you?" the Seahorse Queen asked.


"Of course." replied the prince.


"Forever?"


"Forever and always." the prince said with confidence.


The mermaid nodded and quietly opened the book she had brought. She turned to a marked page and begin reciting words in a tongue long forgotten by most, and as she spoke the words enveloped her in light. The mermaid ascended from the water and her tail split in half and the halves turned into legs. She walked up onto the beach for the very first time and the prince threw his cloak around her. The two embraced and the prince promised to always keep her warm.


The two laid together in the prince's small shelter, but the prince would not find rest. He gazed at the queen's beauty and admired her in the moonlight. He felt uneasy as he glanced out at the vast sea and his anxiety grew. Eventually he could take it no more, and while the queen slept he mounted his horse and rode to a nearby nomad encampment.


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The sun was beginning to rise as the prince reached the edge of the camp. He sought out the council of a romany enchantress. The prince feared that the queen would not be content with him and grow to miss the blue seas that she gave up to be with him; So the enchantress gave him a vial of magic water filled with Seahorse dreams and a magic spell to recite.


The prince rode back to his camp in a haste and was relieved to find the now-human sea queen still sleeping. He sprinkled the magic water over her and quietly whispered the spell in her ears before tenderly kissing her forehead. The red sunlight that bathed the queen's slumbering face seemed to shimmer for a moment and the prince breathed a sigh of relief. He stepped out and began brewing their morning tea, but this time he would make it the sweetest it had ever been. Today was to be celebrated.


When the queen awoke, she saw her reflection in the waters of the lagoon that she once dwelled in. Her eyes sparkled a bright blue like the very sea itself was alive in her irises and she felt the love of all the small ocean creatures warm her chest.


The prince had given her ocean eyes, so that no matter where they were she would always be able to see the sea and she would never tire of being with him."


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I finished brushing the ends of my little princess' hair. "And that, my Sunshine," I told her, "is how I met your mother."


Long live the King

December 1, 2019

I Have A Fantasy

"Do you have any dreams?" they ask.


"I suppose I do," I say, "But they are so very specific that I doubt they could ever be reality."


"What do you see when you close your eyes?"


Many things, dear readers. Many things. Here is one that has been persistent as of late.


Fred Rogers. Bob Ross. Jim Henson. Bill Watterson. Hayao Miyazaki. Brian Jacques.




All of them soft-spoken old men who saw the world through eyes untainted by malice or crushing realism. These were innovators of television, movies, art, animation, cartoons, and literature who all sought to change the world through the minds of humans. In my dreams, I am with these gentle-toned gentleman at a diner; Somewhere outside of time that is filled with only a few other patrons. Early-morning sunshine streams through the aged windows as the songs of sparrows can be heard in the distance. If one could strain their ear, they may even hear the far off sounds of a train.


We are gathered at a round, oaken table on this dull, autumn day. We dine on classic American fare, (steak n' eggs for me, of course). The old timers speak quietly about days of yore and their gentle gazes speak volumes on how they consider the world's potential. They share their visions in hushed tones as if the worlds they are creating around us must remain a secret. Being the young man of the group, I simply sit and listen, basking in the wisdom and imagination that exudes from these giants. (And since it's my fantasy and I can do what I please, Adam Young is with me and we are fanboying together as we snatch at the imagination that surrounds us, clinging to each enchanted tale. I feel like Adam and I would be good friends.)


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(Secretly I always picture it here, a place I visited annually as a child.)


I do have a fantasy: To be among minds that see the world not for what it is, but what it could be.


Long live the King

June 30, 2019

Fading Shades of Grey (PART 2)

(Read part one first, little macaron. https://longlivetheprince.blogspot.com/2019/06/fading-shades-of-grey-part-1.html)


Your King apologizes sincerely for the delay of this post. (I had to dive deeper than I first anticipated.) In part one we went over the story of Pneumonia White. In this continuation we will be performing a full synopsis of the mysteries in her blog. It took a very long time to piece together a coherent timeline, but hopefully we can finally put the last nail in this proverbial coffin. Spoiler alert: we solved the final puzzle. Enjoy.


CHAPTER ONE: WHO IS PNEUMONIA WHITE?

As I mentioned in part one of this adventure, our mysterious baroness Pneumonia White began as the most infamous figure of the debutante circle: Miriam Konig (primarily called 'Miri'). Like most of the debutantes, Miri began blogging in September of 2009 with a blog called 'California Noir'. In 2011, she changed into a character called 'Anya' with the pen-name of 'Pneumonia White', likely in reaction to her close friend being called 'Pneumonia Black'. From there she began building the most complex narrative on Blogger.











CHAPTER TWO: MIRIAM KONIG VS. PNEUMONIA
WHITE


When I discovered the original identity of Pneumonia White, I was forced to ask myself a question that many have pondered in reaction to both her and the other debutantes: "What is real?"


The reason this must be asked is because these bloggers seem to use a mélange of truth and fiction in their writing with very little delineation between the two. This begs the question: "Who is real? Pneumonia White or Miri? Or both? Or neither?" While I was unable to decipher which character (if either) is real, I thought it sensible to contrast the two characters to see how great the discrepancies are.


1. Miri is from Germany, while Anya is from Russia
2. Though both refer to their grandmas the same way, Miri spells it "grannie" while Anya spells it "granny"
3. Miri alluded to her mum being a psychologist, and Anya said her mum makes costumes for movies
4. Miri lived at her Grannie's old place in Silverlake, while Anya lived in her late-granny's mansion in Bel Air
5. Miri had been in LA at least since 2009, but Anya claimed to have arrived in LA on July 8'th 2011 for the first time in nearly five years.





Comparing these two characters is complicated but for the sake of creating a timeline of events, I decided to treat the story as if both character's stories are true. It is with that premise that I can present to you the next chapter.


CHAPTER THREE: THE TIMELINE


(I apologize in advance for this convoluted timeline. I included as many noteworthy events as I could find with little rhyme or reason as to what made the cut. At this point, it seems like everything could be important.) Here is the timeline as best I could decipher based on both Miri and Anya's stories:


{Miri (Anya/Pneumonia White) is born in Siberi, Karelia in Russia (1991)
{Miri and her family travel the world (because her mother makes costumes for movies) and spend a lot of time in Berlin, Germany
{Miri's family decides to cease travelling and move into granny's* [*likely her father's mother] old mansion in Silverlake (2000)
{White's brother Viktor drowns (2001) [White is 10]
{White's father dies (2001-2002) [White is 10]
{White meets her first love , Evan (2003) [White is 13]
{Miri begins writing California Noir (September 2009) [White is 19]
{Miri creates a Facebook page for California Noir (December 2009)
{Miri moves in with Belle Armed (February 2011)
{Pneumonia Black begins her blog (February 2011)
{Miri transitions California Noir into Pneumonia White (March 8'th 2011)
{Miri scraps the California Noir posts, rebrands Noir as a new blog: 'Holliday'.
{Pneumonia White begins posting while sharing a joint Blogger profile with Pneumonia Black (June 2011)
{Pneumonia Black stops posting (July 2011)
{Pneumonia White deletes all (two) June posts (July 2011)
{Pneumonia White begins posting and marks the beginning of her character's story (July 5'th 2011)
{White moves in to granny's old mansion in Bel Air, which she believes she inherited (July 9'th 2011)
{White references California Noir by leading with the phrase 'Woke up at 11', a nod to California Noir's banner text (July 11'th 2011)
{A boy named Joel is the first to publically drop White's name: 'Anya' (July 12'th 2011)
{Black moves in with White (July 13'th 2011)
{Black leaves temporarily to visit her family. White thinks she's hiding something (July 21'st 2011)
{Black and White find the mysterious (and likely metaphorical) golden key (July 28'th 2011)
{Black disappears, claiming to have left for a "walkabout" (August 2'nd 2011)
{White begins to gain attention and has been requested for interviews by various media outlets (August 4'th 2011)
{White changes the blog's banner (August 10'th 2011)
{White leaves and posts a goodbye message stating that she cannot talk about granny's funeral for legal reasons (September 22'nd 2011)
{White resurrects PneumoniaWhite.com and publishes a post exactly three years after leaving (September 22'nd 2014)
{White deletes PneumoniaWhite.com again, along with all three posts from 2014. (Somewhere between January and May 2015)


IWOKEUPATELEVEN


CHAPTER FOUR: RED HERRINGS


I was led down several paths that my grandfather would refer to as, "frivolous pursuits for untamed water-fowl" (i.e. wild goose-chases). It took me many moons to separate truth from fiction, so here are some conclusions that proved inaccurate.


{"Miri is not Pneumonia White, but instead Pneumonia Black." The only visuals I have of Miri from the pre-Pneumonia days show her as being a brunette, much like Pneumonia Black, opposed to being a blonde like Pneumonia White. However, it is quite easy to dye one's hair, and all the timeline evidence from Facebook points to Miri being Pneumonia White.





{"Cassidy Cole (the Silverlake Serpent / Hollywood Sign Girl) is Pneumonia White." In Miri's last post on California Noir, she posts a picture of Cassidy and tells of her crush on her. (Thus making the dynamic similar to White & Black's.) Also, Cassidy is a blonde, which fits in to the previously stated theory. Moreover, Cassidy commented on a post and linked Pneumonia White [PW] as if it was her own blog. (Linking your blog at the end of your comments was customary in those days.) However, this is where the trail of evidence linking Cassidy and White end. Also, under her Hollywood Sign Girl [HSG] alias, she commented this on one of White's posts:


[HSG]: "Anya, I have a small house party down venice with some friends tomorrow. Tried to text you on facebook, but check it and please get back to me, because all my friends are talking about you, and I am the most anxient to meet you! (I can promise you - you'll not be disappointed :) lots of kisses from your mortal friends ***"


[PW]: "hsg, i'll try to make it!!! i wanna meet you too. you seem so nice. XXX"


Unless they were clever enough to go that far to put off suspicion, (which I doubt), it directly implies that they had never met in person yet and were simply internet interests.


hollywood sign girl


{"Belle is one of the Pneumonias." Belle Armed was living with Miri around the time California Noir ended, so I considered the possibility that perhaps she helped contribute to the narrative as Miri's other half. However, Belle looks far too different from either of them and there is no evidence to support the claim.


CHAPTER FIVE: THE FINAL CIPHER


There were many difficulties in solving the final cipher. I had assumed that the solution would be something that was clued at in the narrative. Perhaps the password was 'Barbosa', a password that they created for their exclusive 7-Eleven. However, that did not pan out.


In some of the ciphers that were given public solutions, the passwords were things like 'golden' and 'evan', both references to thematic elements in the story. (One was the color of Black's secret key, the other was White's first love.) I honed in on the key aspect since Black's key was alluded to in many posts, especially near the end of the story. It started as a key that White stole, which she promptly gave to Black. The key was also supposed to be of great importance to granny's funeral. And White did not realize what it unlocked before having an epiphany in front of the Hollywood sign. However, nothing related to it appeared to be the password.





Also in association with the golden key, White referenced a Grey bird. White had a repeating theme of birds in the various imagery and poetry she used throughout the blog. She showed pictures of Quail, she mentions Pigeons, and she used images of Black Swans as an icon. Unfortunately, none of these were the solution to the final puzzle.


After trying for weeks to crack the cipher using the blog as my guide and finding nothing, I began trying to crack it using the source code. I managed to figure out that, whatever the message is, it was likely a very concise message. My progress ended there, and I turned to my last hope; a large kingdom far away called Reddit.


I had heard stories of the wizards and scholars that resided on Reddit, so I packed my bags and made haste to the large city and it's simple, yet humungous towers. Eventually I found the help of a very kind warlock who knew how to write mystical programs that would crack enciphered text. His name was u/jtm297 and he was a mind ahead of his time. After pleading my case in the Court of Mystics for roughly a week, he came to my aid and said simply this: "Solved. The password is Tomas. Have a nice day."





Tomas. And with that, the final mystery was solved. I finally input the long-awaited password and held my breath as the message was revealed. The message read simply, "I don't wanna sleep!". Needless to say, I found this quite anticlimactic. But it did leave me with some new questions. "Who was Tomas?" "Is he a character we are already acquainted with (like Mr. Mysterious)?" "If not, what is his relevance to the story? And why was he never mentioned?"


It seems like Anya still got the last laugh. We were the first to solve her cipher in 8 years and we are still left with more questions than we started with.


EPILOGUE: WHAT DOES IT ALL MEAN?


If you have stuck through and read the entire post, then I'm sure we are wondering the same thing right now: "What does it all mean?" To give you the short answer, I'm not exactly sure. To give you the longer answer, it could mean many things.


Anya's tale tells of the secret undergrounds that inhabit our world. She speaks frequently of the 'Secret Hollywood' and how it killed her brother & father and ended her blog. For instance, her blog's first banner read:


"I was 10 when he died. Now, a Bel Air orphan, with a hundred pairs of shoes I have only one desire left: To tell U of the secret Hollywood that killed them."






In response to people asking about her identity, she had this to say:
"Who AM I. Who IS Pneumonia White? People seem obsessed 2 know. Following me, Hacking my mail, lurking in the shade outside my morning cafés. But I'm sorry stalkers. As much as I hate the cage wherein I live, I won't let U liberate me.
U c the Hollywood I live in is different. It's not the famous, opulent, dramatic Hollywood of the stars, but the very opposite.
I live in the SECRET Hollowood. The one hidden deep inside the lush gated communities of Old Bel Air. The damp streets where you won't find any residential sidewalks. It is a Hollywood where a year at Marymouth High means more than any Academy Award. It's the Hollywood that don't shout, but whisper. But whose whispers gets movies gets done, worlds built, and others destroyed.
And if the price 2 stay here is secrecy, I pay the price and hide myself in veils of words, and this is all U get:

'My name is Pneumonia White and I've been blogging since I arrived here in LA the 6th of july 2011. I live (almost) alone in the house my grandmother left me in Bel Air. My goal is to fill the hole in my heart with so many Alaïa dresses and Alexander Wang shoes that I never will cry again. If I could have one superhero power it would b being able to never wake up again'"






And in her 'final' post where she closes the book on her story, she writes this:
"I love u
Loved ones. I think u have seen it coming. By the time your read this my life on this blog will be over.
There are many reasons. Most of them just hinted in the vague threats by my lawyer. I tell u, there are MANY things my part of Hollowood don't want the world to know. (And there's no shortage of lawyers here either). And as much as I don't WANT 2 care about those things, I do. I'm spoiled and afraid, and ever since
Black disappeared, I'm also lonely.
Also, this blog has grown to big for me. Every DAY I get mails from around the world telling me what a rich bitch I am. And  even WORSE: Everyday I get mails telling me how beautiful I am. How people look up to me. But I am NO Role Model. I'm an anxiety ridden wreck that runs on fantasies and self-loathing.
(There are also other things, weird dreams that started to come alive with this blog, and that I hope will die with it)
All this aside, YOU have changed my life for the better, and THAT I can never repay. If I EVER get my life back, I'll b back, right here, with U, the only place I felt safe, in a long time.
Love and blessings

Pneumonia "





She never revealed the secrets of the Hollywood underground. And she never gave any clues about the proceedings of granny's funeral. She left us one final cipher, but what she left us with was not enough to infer the details that she was forced to expunge. We can only speculate as to what went on beyond the veil of the Pneumonia White blog; was it meant as a work of fiction? Or perhaps a new form of meta-art? Or was it just the ramblings of a madwoman? None can know for sure, but I am at least honored to present to you the most interesting blog I have ever found. Thank you all for sticking by me and tolerating my talk of conspiracies and intrigue. You keep me going. Until next time.


Long live the King

June 28, 2019

Fading Shades of Grey (PART 1)

(If haven't read my posts about the debutante conspiracy, I suggest reading it for context. https://longlivetheprince.blogspot.com/2019/01/the-web-thickens-another-blogger-mystery.html)


I'm sure I've said it before, but this has been my most ambitious Blogger mystery yet. I have previously mentioned a most infamous debutante by the name of "Miri". Miri has been one of the most mysterious and elusive influencers on Blogger, and now we have found her in a new adventure that blurs the lines between reality and fiction. Except this mystery is not about Miri as we know her; it's about a brooding blonde baroness named Pneumonia White.


If you have actually heard about Pneumonia White, it would probably be no surprise. White managed to acquire a significant following back in 2011. She and her counterpart Pneumonia Black spent their time on Blogger telling of their elusive Hollywood escapades, all the while constructing a meta-narrative under the surface of their stories. Though it was often difficult to decipher what percentage of her stories were fiction, White managed to build her story through allusion to her history, defining her group of odd characters, and including enciphered text in her blogs. It took a long time to piece together her tale, but here it is as best I can interpret:


It was July of 2011 when Pneumonia White got the call from her granny's attorney. White described her grandmother as 'the queen of old Bel Air'. Unfortunately for Pneumonia White, the queen had fallen prey to the passage of time and unshackled herself from her mortal coil. Upon hearing the attorney's news of granny's death White and her family left the beaches of Venice, Italy and flew back to LA, California.


It had been five years since White had been in LA. In those days, she was simply called 'Anya'. Her mother and father settled in their old home in Silverlake while the funeral details were underway. However, Pneumonia White would not lay her head in her childhood home. Instead, her granny had left Anya her old mansion in Bel Air. As Anya gazed up at the white spanish walls hidden behind the lush greenery, she held her [deceased] brother's faithful teddy bear Aloysius tighter. Surely she would be able to survive this ordeal if she just held on tightly. Time went on and she missed her hometown in Karelia. She missed simpler days when her mom wasn't an alcoholic and her father wasn't asleep in his grave. And she missed her young brother Viktor, who never ceased to make her smile but had not seen the sun in a decade. Now all she had to remember him by was the shard of his soul that he left in his stuffed bear Aloysius. If only she could have Pneumonia Black by her side; she was indeed empty and filled with longing as her other half remained elusive.


no. 1


Night falls, and Anya heard a sound from the porch. Black was back. It had been five years since the pair had seen one another. As young teenagers they were as inseparable as they were irresponsible. Not only was Pneumonia Black finally by Anya's side, but Black went as far as to move in with her. The two were inseparable once more as they (and Aloysius) enjoyed the pleasures of LA living.





However, it would not be long before paradise fell. Aloysius had grown irritable and hostile because he had developed feelings for Pneumonia Black. Granny's lawyer postponed the date of the funeral, leaving the family members to wait with baited breath for the announcement. Anya was very vulnerable during this time, so it was especially difficult when the worst happened: Black disappeared. She left without a word and was off taking care of private business. White was devastated. It was here that the narrative began to fall apart as Anya wrote primarily about her daily struggles while the lines between her metaphors and her reality were gradually whittled away. Events were more vague, she was in a constant haze, and any meaning to be gleaned had to be interpreted more than usual.


pool


The attorney finally returned and granny's funeral arrangements were made. Pneumonia White started her blog as a result of her grandmother's death, so the funeral seemed like the logical climax to the story. But something broke inside our dear little Anya. There were many lawyers who didn't like her blog and were threatened by her revealing glimpses into the Hollywood underground. She was silenced from saying anything about her Granny's funeral and she quit her blog shortly after. Though she had a brief resurgence in 2014 exactly three years after leaving her blog, that portion of posts was deleted and she fell back into silence. But not all was as it seemed; for Pneumonia White left us one final puzzle: An encrypted message that has remained unsolved to this day.





There is so much to understand about this tale, the previous iteration of Anya/Miri, and the final cipher. I have been working tirelessly to piece together the full narrative, but that's a story for another day. Until next time.


Long live the King

June 26, 2019

Blogger's Most Wanted

WANTED
My Photo
KOLD_KADAVR_FLATLINER
(KNOWN ALIAS: BLESSED HOLY SOCKS, THE NON-PERISHABLE-ZEALOT)
REWARD: A KING'S BOUNTY
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This is a gentleman I have run across many times. He exists beyond the farthest reaches of my kingdom. He is an ever-present spirit that you see in the corner of your eye. He is the soul of a man who has seen death's gates, but is as tangibly extant as the clouds of mist that surround us. This is the man who flatlined.
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Cold Cadaver and I have a bit of history together, though we have never spoken with one another. As an avid Blogger browser I have seen the incredibly far reaches of my kingdom through diving down deep rabbit holes. And though I will walk miles and miles away from my castle, I keep seeing this man. Corners of the internet that were left abandoned years ago hold him as their most recent follower. Bloggers who were several blogs removed from people in the Debutante Circle and the Cinderella Society host his face in their recent follower list. I am haunted at every turn by his visage.
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What is even more shocking is the incredible amount of people that this fellow follows. (I have estimated it to be well over 300 and still rising.) I had not the patience to count the many blogs that inhabit his following list, but if you are so inclined you may do so here. There seems to be no rhyme or reason to the type of content he subscribes to.
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After tracking down Cadaver's official profile, I learned quite a lot about him. I learned that he likely gets his handle from the fact that he was in a catastrophic accident when he was 15 years old and stared death in its pale, gaunt face. But more importantly, I learned that this flatliner has 20-25 blogs that all appear to host the ramblings of a mad man. I mean no ill-will towards Cold Cadaver, but his writings-both in format and in content-persist in leaving me flummoxed.
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Kold_Kadavr_Flatliner is a wanted man; not because he has committed a crime, but because he is indeed an enigma. If anyone knows this kind accountant from Topeka, Kansas, I would love to know what made him this way.
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Long live the King

June 21, 2019

The Secret Coven (PART 2)

I really don't know what I hope to gain from making these indexes. Researching the Debutants was easier; I had narrowed the search down to 9 characters, I made a list of people who were potentially connected, and I was able to cross-reference the events they wrote about. However, the Cinderella Society has always been private about how many members they have and who is a part of it.


Since I have no actual way of knowing who is a Cinderella and who isn't, all I have to go off of is the blog genre. As you can imagine, this blogosphere went much deeper than first glance would indicate. The following index is approximately 33% of the bloggers I was able to find connected with different members, and that's not including the many bloggers who deleted their blogs. (I estimate that about half of the connected people deleted themselves.) There's no guarantee that everyone listed was part of the society, but they at least contributed to an enchanting genre of blogs and had mutual connections with the Cinderellas. At the very least, please take this as a list of beautiful blogs that you should visit. I think they are worth the trip.


http://end-of-march.blogspot.com/ (MJ, 11/08-12/11)
http://raindropsandrosepetals.blogspot.com/ (Sara, 03/09-08/11)
http://thestorytellersdiary.blogspot.com/ (Diana, 07/09-08/12)
http://pocket-diaries.blogspot.com/ (Elly B, 02/10-12/11)
http://jokelynbrown.blogspot.com/ (Brooklyn, 02/10-04/13)
http://sentimentalrubbish.blogspot.com/ (Bethany 'Melee', 03/10-02/15)
http://notwendydarling.blogspot.com/ (Ariana, 04/10-09/17)
http://magicandsecrets.blogspot.com/ ('Princess' Camille, 09/10-11/11)
http://blushofdawn.blogspot.com/ (Jade, 12/10-03/18)
http://skeletal-dreams.blogspot.com/ (Skeletaldreams, 12/10-05/12)
http://fairygodmotherstories.blogspot.com/ (A Fairy Godmother, 02/11-04/11)
http://the-last-fairy-tale.blogspot.com/ (Lili, 07/11-07/12)
http://moon-lore.blogspot.com/ (Haze, 09/11-Present)


Through all my research I was only able to find one external mention of the secret coven. Here it is:
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[Dialogue between Anon and Ariana:]


Anon: Dear, I'm very confused about the C Society. Did you create it? I joined but I couldn't find you anywhere. And would you be very insulted if I unjoined? I like the idea of it, and I will stick around for a while to see what other people write, but I also don't feel like I truly belong there. Mermaidism is where I belong. Is that alright? Oh please don't be upset. Anyway, I'm definitely sticking around for now; my curiosity is burning. xxxx


Ariana: Never fear, it is not a place for writing like before. Discussion, ideas, etc.. Soon, we'll create a chat room and hold our first rendezvous. If you would not like to participate, I completely understand, dear one, some may not feel comfortable, and I won't hold it against you. xxx
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I'm sorry for coming up short on this one. I realize that my recent posts haven't been up to their usual standard and that a secret society deserves more attention. Alas, I am increasingly busy with other projects at the moment so you all may have to bear with me for a while. I don't think this story is over.


Long live the King

June 18, 2019

The Secret Coven (PART 1)

As promised, I will tell you the story of my encounter with the mysterious Cinderella Society. It all started when I stumbled across a lovely little bloggess named Lumina. Lumina was a brilliant writer, artist, and singer, (who probably deserves her own post, in all fairness). Her blog was full of whimsy, fairy-tale, and a fascinating narrative, so I certainly recommend giving it a read. After reading her entire blog I fell in love with her affinity for finding the enchanted side of life.

Seeking more content of its kind, I followed all the friends of hers I could find to their respective blogs. After following trails of authors who spoke in fairy tales, I pieced together the scattered shards of a Blogger community that has been dead for some time. Per my normal processes when finding ancient blogospheres, I looked for common threads that could bind this group of blogs together. In terms of content there were many underlying themes that were somewhat common among the authors. For instance, all of them shared an affinity for the fairy-tale/fantasy genre, they often dabbled in art and poetry as well as writing, they were most active around 2011, several of them were part of the EGL (Elegant-Goth & Lolita) Community, and many of them deleted their blogs. I found many common traits among them, but it felt like there was a unifying piece missing. That's when I found it: The Cinderella Society.

This elusive group identified as a 'society of feminine magic-hunters and occultists.' I was shocked to find that a secret coven of mystics had existed under my very nose! It's rare that a king is unaware of a powerful group, let alone a magic society in his own kingdom. Being resolved to solve every mystery in my kingdom, I dove deeper down the proverbial rabbit hole. Luckily, the Cinderellas were kind enough to have a page explaining their nature and purpose.
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"In simpler terms, the Cinderella Society is a selective esoteric discussion group prone to whimsy. We like to discuss everything from Fernando Pessoa and Jungian psychology to the history behind the Harry Potter books. We are also a research-based group, contributing to an ever-growing private wikipedia documenting our findings on a variety of interesting topics, among them Rosicrucianism, Nicolas Flamel, and 19th to 20th spiritualism as a reaction to the Enlightenment Period and the Industrial Revolution. 


Since established during the summer of 2010, the Cinderella Society has waxed and waned in activity, but whether we have 30 members or five, one aspect has not changed: the inherent drive to understand the magical, foreign, and otherworldly embedded in the foundation of our nature."
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This group was dedicated to understanding the supernatural, magical, and otherworldly. Near as I can tell, the group was founded by a girl named Ariana who started blogging at the young age of 13. It's an incredibly ambitious undertaking for someone so young to start a secret society, but Ariana clearly had the vision to do it.

Though I can't definitively prove which bloggers were a part of the society, I have yet another index of authors who I have cross-referenced and cataloged. I still don't know if that's the kind of content you all enjoy, but I will be posting it soon all the same. Stay tuned!

Long live the King

June 6, 2019

The Lost Princess

For those of you familiar with my handle, your mind is likely jumping to many conclusions upon reading the title of this post. I will tell you in advance that the title of the monarch I have been hunting is completely coincidental, (albeit a bit serendipitous).


It is no secret that I have reigned over Blogger for quite a while. Seeing as this platform is my home and that I tend to be a recluse, it's scarce that I get the chance to acquaint myself with other royals. Naturally, when I found evidence of a kindred spirit ruling over a kingdom on Wordpress, I was intrigued.


Originally I was investigating a secret society on Blogger called The Cinderella Society. (I will be writing about it soon.) In investigating people who were thematically connected, I kept finding links to someone called The Lost Princess. If you wanted to visit the website in question [www.thelostprincess.com] you would find naught but an error message. This was troubling to me, especially because I desperately wanted to meet another wandering monarch. But I was not going to be defeated that easily.


I pooled my resources together and scoured the archives for any remnants of her old kingdom. Apparently, I hit the jackpot. And now for your edification, I will tell you the tale of The Lost Princess:


The Lost Princess, originally known as Princess Skye, was an elegant young lady from Perth, Australia. She was born on the 7'th of October, had 'O' type blood, and lived her life as she felt a princess would. In her own words, she was a 'Peter Pan that chose to never grow up, never grow old, and to escape to her enchanted land and live as she pleased.' And for anyone doubting her royalty, she had this to say:


"I am a real Princess, I was not born to a royal title as is recognized by the few surviving monarchies today, but within my heart I hold the ideal of what it means to be a Princess. Kindness, Feminity, Compassion, Hope, Romance, Beauty, Dignity, Grace, all these things I treasure as the jewels of my own precious crown.
Smell flowers, eat cake, smile at strangers and dance to the melody of your heart.
That is all it takes to be a Princess."


Armed with this creed of royal resolve, Princess Skye began her reign on Wordpress in December of 2006 with a site called 'The Princess Portal'. In this queendom of hers, she posted many things about being a princess. She also wrote about her various interests, including baking, fairy tales, and Lolita Fashion. However, in May 2009, Skye decided to abandon the Princess Portal project and pursue something new. Enter: The Lost Princess project.


In that very month of May, the princess announced that she would be moving to a new blog called-you guessed it-'The Lost Princess'. This new blog was going to be different than the previous; it was to be a much more intimate experience. After rebranding herself as 'Princess Skylark' she led her new blog with this:


"This is something fresh and new I’m trying. New things are scary, but sometimes scary is good. I am going to try writing my own story, in little parts. What I think, what I do, what I see. Like an old scrapbook, with pictures and quotes and movie tickets pasted in. There shall be recipes and stories for rainy days. Sketches and scribbles and sewing."


This new castle that she built was absolutely beautiful. Normally when I find treasures in the royal archives I tend to hoard them away like a miser. But today, your little prince would like to share a gift with you. I have actually managed to re-create a slice of her blog just for you! You can find it HERE! Please check it out. It took a bit of work! (And please forgive the glitchy interface; that is the cost of having conflicting blog themes.)


Sadly, Skylark disappeared in April of 2012 without a trace or resignation. The blog was deleted a year later in December of 2013. Now all that remains of The Lost Princess is the archives and various references by those connected with The Cinderella Society. It's always a matter of mourning when an entire empire falls to dust and disappears into the forgotten corners of history.


Gaze Lost Princess Asleep by princess.skye Playing with Charlotte Oh so dramatic! by princess.skye The Prince and I
I hope the Lost Princess Skylark found her way home.


Long live the King



January 27, 2019

The Web Thickens (Another Blogger Mystery)

(If you haven't seen the original post, I advise you do so: https://longlivetheprince.blogspot.com/2018/05/windows-are-eyes-to-soul-another.html)

Good day, subjects. Your little Prince has been hard at work during his hiatus. If you've read the original post, then I am sure you are quite aware of my fascination with the tangled web of mysterious blogs that I stumbled upon early last year. I have done countless amounts of research and I thought it would bring some closure to share a bit of it with you all. In the last installment of uncovering this mystery, I honed in on the first member of the elite blogger circle that I came across: Aurora.

Aurora was a young, Romanian debutante who moved to the Los Angeles area. She was rich, bored, poetic, and had little to do but contemplate her distressingly empty life and drown her nihilism in indulgent wines. I was fascinated with her blog not only for the beautiful photography and literary illustrations of her existentialism, but for the mystery of how she acquired so many peers with almost identical themes in their blogs.

At the time, I focused my efforts on finding Aurora because I thought focusing on a single detail may be the only way to find clarity in this jumbled web. It turns out that I was quite wrong and the way to see the whole narrative was to focus on the big picture. In that effort, I spent time combing through any/all of the relevant blogs. There is a lot to cover, but I don't wish to blather. I will share with you my notes. But I warn you; they seem as if they are the scrawlings of a madman. Here is roughly 35% of the research I have saved in my drafts:

1. http://awindowapart.blogspot.com/ (Aurora C.W., 09/09-04/10) (Romania, LA)


2. http://soonitwillbeme.blogspot.com/ (Signe Engis, 09/09-10/11) (LA, Sweden)


3. http://ice-age-heat-wave.blogspot.com/ (Kim, 09/09-05/10) (LA)


4. http://bellearmed.blogspot.com/ (Belle Armed, 09/09-11/11) (LA, Paris, London)


5. http://themostawesomethings.blogspot.com/ (Luke, 09/09-11/09) (LA)


6. http://posthollywoodcondition.blogspot.com/ (Winona, 09/09-11/09) (LA)


7. http://ratherlovelything.blogspot.com/ (Sarah Johnson, 09/09-08/10) (LA, Sweden)


8. http://belledehiver.blogspot.com/ (Victoria, 09/09-04/10) (Norway, LA)


9. http://mymotherfuckedmickjagger.blogspot.com/ (Avy Stanford, 12/12-present) (LA, NY)

Allow me to elaborate on the above list. This index contains all of the publically available blogs that were a part of this blogosphere of directly-connected, depressed Hollywood girls. Next to their links are their names/pseudonyms, the dates of their first & last post, and the geographic locations that they are associated with. If you pay close attention, you will notice that there is a common thread: All of these members started their blogs in September of 2009 and resided in LA at one point. (With the exception of Avy, who also started on Blogger in September 2009 but deleted/privated all posts before 12/12 sometime after 2012.)

Ordinarily, this would be no surprise. A normal assumption would be that these girls were friends and all decided to blog at the same time. However, that raises the question of how these girls came to meet. It's unlikely that they attended the same school as there are some decent age gaps between them. Also, not all of the members were directly connected with each other; so if it was a coordinated effort, it would have had to move down the line of friends in order to encompass all of them.

In addition to these nine members, there are some other influential players that do not have public blogs. Two of the members rendered their blogs private. Unfortunately, we can only speculate on their reasons for doing so as no explanation exists in any of the public blogs. Here are their private blogs & public profiles:

http://nevertheleona.blogspot.com/ (Leona [Mills?], 09/09-02/16) (London) [https://www.blogger.com/profile/16922964023568557690]

http://theaohthea.blogspot.com/  (Anthea Kiddo, 09/09-08/15) (LA) [https://www.blogger.com/profile/10007255616184361375]

Lastly, as far as the most influential members are concerned, there is still one more. Miri is a figure that is mentioned by almost every author. They speak very highly of her and she seems to be the primary link between many of the members. However, upon first inspection, one may think her blog was deleted. In fact, she changed the URL and rebranded her blog. First titled "California Noir", Miri's blog was retitled as "HOLLIDAY". However, all the posts have either been drafted or deleted as there are no visible posts on her blog. All that remains is the template, follower list, and view stats.

http://www.californianoir.blogspot.com/ (Miri A.K.A. Hannah Holliday, 09/09-?) (LA, Berlin)
http://hannahholliday.blogspot.com/ Miri changed URL and deleted all posts.
[https://www.blogger.com/profile/15795638565078579966]

After gaining and understanding of these primary players, (and several secondary ones), I began to cross-reference events between the different blogs. Seeing as those people of interest lead such fantastic lives, many of their followers scrutinized how much of their tales were real. With that being the case, I thought it best to search for any discrepancies between the narratives. So far, I haven't seen any inconsistencies. If this was some creative conspiracy, these gals would have paid incredible attention to detail.

I mentioned in my original post that the last known player in this circle was Avy Stanford and that she may be the sole key in finding anything about this elusive group. After months of piqued curiosity, I finally decided to make contact with the illustrious Avy. At the time, I only thought to seek her help in finding Aurora. She wasn't able to assist with much, but here is what she said:
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Sorry for not replying earlier, I'm on some sort of permanent vacation and don't check my emails as often as I should. 

Either way, thank you for reading my disparate words, I often wonder who it is that does. As I'm sure you understand it's a cheaper form of therapy, but I get these questions a lot from people that want to know more than I'm able to share. I wish I could say I know Aurora but I really don't, although I could probably put you in contact with Belle. The last I heard she was in Singapore but I will write to her and ask if she knows anything. 
-----
The trail ended shortly thereafter. It's no surprise that young Ms. Stanford is uncomfortable sharing details of her personal life. (Although I do hope to get her to consent to an interview someday.) It was clear that I wasn't going to be able to see behind the curtain of these blogs. But at least we have enough to construct a vague narrative of these Hollywood girls (and Luke) combatting life in the big city. I would love to retell the many stories I found on their blogs, but I don't think there is room on this ever-growing post to accommodate the archived adventures of a collective sixteen years of experiences.

Thank you for bearing with me on this long excursion. I'm disappointed that I wasn't able to bring you a conclusion to the mystery; but some things just seem destined to remain unknown. I hope that this summary and index of hyperlinks will be enough to get you started if you desire to browse these beautiful blogs filled with somber beauty. And if you have any suggestions to help solve the mystery, please let me know! I could really use a proverbial Watson.

Long live the King

January 24, 2019

Unfolding Old Notes

I have been sitting on one of my favorite blogs for a while now. It's yet another day-blog that was abandoned. But unlike other day-blogs, it wasn't merely the ramblings of some teen who got bored in the school library; This blog contains a small slice of beautiful thought, the likes of which I have found unrivaled. This is the blog of the Cautioner. (http://thecautioners.blogspot.com/)


Both the blog and the account behind it were formed in July 2008. The author, (an anonymous entity known only as "Cautioners"), published the only actual post. Almost two years later on May 30'th, 2010 the blog appears to have been hacked and a spam link was posted with no title. No other activity or content has appeared on this blog.


Based on a few context clues, I have reason to believe that the author is female. However, the author covered their tracks quite well. I have tried many different strategies for getting in touch with them, but to no avail.


I wish I had more to say about this blog, but any thoughts I have seem to be better summarized in the author's own words. Now, I'm not ordinarily one to repost someone else's work without some amount of commentary, but I have seen many blogs glitch, get deleted, or outright disappear. I wanted to share this author's work with you, and I wanted this to serve as an archive of its existence lest something happen to it. I hope that this will spark some interest. All credit to the author known only as "Cautioners". Thank you.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
we'll still have our stories


I'm looking for somewhere to stay. Somewhere empty, but with plenty of space that I can fill up. I've been around for more years than I'd like to admit. I've called places home and then left when things got too heated. But I'll start over here now, not completely ridding myself of every other place but really just treating them like childhood stomping grounds. I can walk past them and remember holding hands with new friends and never being able to "do" the monkey bars, but then as I leave, I'll remember why I always swore to never go back.

There was always so much more for us, but we knew we had to leave to find it. We said we'd never find it in that stuffy little town. Guess we never have, but when I look around, it sure makes sense. We've never left.

This isn't like me. This is open. Anonymous, I guess, unless you know me by chance. Congratulations (?) if you do, since I don't know how anyone would find me. I've always shown off my hiding places. Even that cluster of trees in that field; the one that was cleared ten or eleven years ago, and now it's an expensive neighborhood. The place I used to go to think and pretend is now somebody's bedroom. They might feel weird if they knew that one.

I want to say things and run the risk of them being seen. I guess it gives me a little rush after hiding it all for a while now. But I can't be tracked with this. It's as safe as I've ever been, and the letters on this screen just smile with that thought. Anyone can see it, but nobody will get attached enough to care. I'll be left alone, and if I'm going to keep living with my head the way it is, it'll teach me that alone is okay.

Hi. I have an imagination. It's the greatest gift of all. Sadly, everyone else lost theirs years ago.

This is a last ditch effort and I'm making it up as I go along.
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Cautioner said they don't think anyone could get attached enough to their letter to care, but evidently I have begged to differ. This blog will always have a place in my mind and heart, and if it ever becomes possible to find the author I will do it. Long live the Cautioner.

Long live the King

January 13, 2019

Finding The Resort

(Word of warning: This is gonna be a nerdy one, so buckle in and bear with me please.)

Please indulge my tale of a trip I took to a place called The Resort. The Resort is not like other realms I have visited as it does not reside in my Blogger Kingdom. It exists in a kingdom locked in the past and is a testament to the ingenuity of the early internet users. Allow me to elaborate:

The Resort (http://www.resort.com) was founded in 1992. It was one of many infamous "Geek Houses" at the time, but it quickly became one of the most popular and beloved. For those of you who are unfamiliar with the concept of Geek Houses, it was a term given to communal homes inhabited by students of UCSC (University of California, Santa Cruz) who were computer enthusiasts. At the time, the internet was primarily populated by self-dubbed "computer geeks". And since there were several homes being occupied by geeky roommates, the various groups began starting their own webpages using their school's web hosting resource ("UCSCB"). (Here is an archive of the other Geek Houses for those of you interested in vintage websites: http://www.geek.org/geekhouse.html)

The Geek House known as The Resort began to take off in 1994 when the original seven house members began to create lots of interactive content and push the boundaries of the internet's capabilities. The site continued to grow in activity until it's disbandment in January of 1997 when some of the members moved out and left to start new Geek Houses. The site itself serves as an archive and is quite archaic, boasting a simple, white background and a basic set of links that lead to the main pages. Many pages are not able to be found with searches and are not linked within the site's main pages, leaving a more manual approach to browsing different directories necessary. Also, many aspects of the site suffer from serious link rot as all but two of the directories seem to be inaccessible.

But aesthetics aside, the site's content is unique and humorous. The Resort is portrayed as a sort of faux-cult complete with hierarchy, history, rituals, and a creatively cryptic way of relaying the events of their real lives. To simplify, it was a house full of nerdy college students who banded together and started a website that operated under the sardonic guise that their home was a cult inhabited by aliens. It's quite entertaining; not only for the humor but for the charm that the early internet had when it was so open, empty, and left to one's whimsy.

Since the website was published somewhat anonymously, I was determined to solve the mystery of the Resort's identity. I had concluded that in order to claim I had conquered the Resort, I must track down the location of either the house it was founded in or one of its members. This was going to be difficult for several reasons: First, the descriptions I found of the house were not enough for me to narrow down the search. Also, all the geeks of UCSC had pseudonyms that came complete with backstories, (resulting in greater difficulty tracking them out-of-character). I was at a loss; but I decided if I could just locate the founder of the Resort I could claim a victory.

The name of the Resort's founding father was Banshee. (You can see his 'lore' here: http://www.geek.org/login_lore/loginlore_book.html) Banshee's site directories were one of only two member's directories that still functioned. But through viewing the archived site usage I was able to find extensions that weren't accessible through other parts of the site. I eventually came across information that helped me track down the Resort's most prominent figure: John Michael Vinopal. From there, it was child's play to find out that Mr. Vinopal is now 50 years old and living comfortably in Berkeley, CA. I found more information, but I don't consider it to be worth sharing. What I will say is that I now possess the ability to contact Banshee. Perhaps I will make a follow-up post if I ever get an interview with him. Until then, I've cracked the mystery of The Resort. Thank you for tagging along on this uncharacteristically esoteric adventure.

Long live the King

January 5, 2019

In Memoriam of a Hopeless Romantic

Today we mourn the loss of a beloved contribution to the Blogger kingdom. Our dear Sarah of "The Life of a 25 Year Old Hopeless Romantic" blog announced on 12/02/18 that after an entire decade of blogging [since 05/22/08] she will be attempting to novelize the story entailed in her blog and then promptly delete her blog after achieving publication.


As you likely know, I absolutely abhor endings, which is one of many reasons why I archive dead blogs/websites; I hate to see them go, so I explore them and give them fitting tributes. In line with this sacred tradition of mine, I would like to archive just a little of Sarah's presence on this site.


The inspiration behind our hopeless romantic's blog started in 2008 when she fell in love with a boy she pseudonymed Ricky Bobby. They went to the same Western-US high school and lived under the presumption that Ricky Bobby did not tolerate Sarah. However, they eventually came to find some innocent affection for one another. She was only 15 at the time and Ricky Bobby was a senior in high school. She was head-over-heels in love with him when he announced that he and his family were moving to Pennsylvania after graduation. She was heart broken when the school year ended, and she started a blog to serve as a journal with which to unleash her many feelings.


Time went on and she never found a love quite like Ricky Bobby. She had a few, brief romances over several years but never actually had a proper boyfriend. All the while she still missed her high school sweetheart.


She eventually acquired her first real boyfriend in 2018 at the age of 25. Sadly, the relationship did not work out. So far, she has still not found love despite her obsession with it. But she-and her followers-are remaining hopeful.


Now with her new novel-projects underway, she seeks to render the blog obsolete by publishing a book inspired by it. I opted to copy the last bit of her final post to serve as an archive from the proverbial horse's mouth.


[Her exact words]:
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When I finish this book loosely based upon this hopeless romance life of mine, I'll likely delete this blog from the face of the websphere. I hope that enough of you see this final entry before I do, but don't worry, that may be awhile. (But just in case, if you wish to download an archive of my entries, or copy-and-paste or screenshot them, or what have you, I would do it ASAP.)

If 'The Life of a Hopeless Romantic' (title pending) appears on the YA shelves of a bookstore one day, I hope that some of you might recognize me there and pick me up to live on your bookshelves, so that you won't forget me.

Because I certainly won't forget any of you.

I love you. Adieu. The end.

And, for one last time: Happy Holidays, and happy New Year. Take care of yourselves, Internet. May your lives be full of love. And show love to one another, even if it's hard to find for yourself.

xoxoxoxoxoxo

Forever,
Your Hopeless Romantic
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If you are indeed interested in seeing her content, (and possibly her blog if she hasn't deleted it yet), included below are her various links. Feel free to show her some love.


Blog: http://myhopelessromancelife.blogspot.com/
E-Mail: xohoplessromantic@yahoo.com
Twitter: @xohplssrmntc


Long live the King