Tuesday, August 27, 2013

Skull Rock & Storybook Land

Stereo slides are pretty bitchin'! You'll have to take my word for it, since I have temporarily (or maybe permanently) retired "Wiggle Vision™". One of my favorite things is to view subjects that ordinarily move, like waterfalls - but in a 3D slide, they are frozen in space. It almost looks like magic! Or like The Matrix.

Nearby Storybook Land looks neat and tidy; the water in the canal ripples like glass and reflects the Casey Junior circus train.


Nanook said...

Skull Rock at its most beautiful.

Thanks, Major.

K. Martinez said...

Ye Olde Disneyland. The volcanic rock frame of the lagoon, lush tropical vegetation and the cooling waterfalls of Skull Rock. That and a pirate ship all tucked between a medieval fairyland and American circus theme. It's definitely the Matrix.

Anonymous said...

Splendid pictures. I wish I could just step through... return optional.

Thanks, Major, great start for the day.


Major Pepperidge said...

Nanook, if they ever *did* decide to somehow build another Skull Rock, I kind of hope that they make it 2 or 3 times larger. Or bigger than that!

K. Martinez, I must be a weirdo, because I get so much joy out of waterfalls in the park, wherever they happen to be.

JG, you and me both!!

Snow White Archive said...

I'd say Skull Rock looks fairly bitchin' in that pic. Nice.

Melissa said...

“Hey, Monstro! Neighbor Monstro! Wake up!”

“What? What is it? Skull Rock? Leave me alone, you dolt! This is the best afternoon nap I’ve had since the day they forgot to unlock the gates.”

“Sorry, buddy, but I thought you’d want to know they’re gonna take a 3D picture of us.”

“A thready picture? I’ve heard of grainy pictures, but never a thready one. Do you mean a seedy picture? I’ve certainly seen a lot of seedy pictures of you, you bony rascal, but I doubt it’ll be that easy to take a seedy picture of me. I’ve just had a fresh coat of paint, and I’m told I have a certain fearful symmetry that photographs well from every angle. Including tonsil shots, if I say so myself.”

“No, no, no, Monty boy, clean out whatever is it you listen with. 3D. Like, the letter D, only three of ‘em.”

“Oh, I see. I wonder what the three D’s stand for. The first is probably for Disneyland. That’s just simple brand image; it’d be silly to have it any other way. The second D is for Dumbo, I’m sure, the spotlight-grubbing-little pachyderm.”

“Don’t get me started on that floppy-eared little whippersnapper. If he had his way, he’d probably boot me straight outta the park and plop his circling gray keester down right here in my spot. Why, I oughtta…”

“Maybe the third D is for dentistry. Oh, wouldn’t that be grand! I know my teeth are works of fine art and marvels of modern engineering, but I truly do wish they weren’t quite so irresistible to the average full-grown human male, simply because he’s tall enough to reach them. Why, just the other day…”

“Let’s not get too far down this rabbit hole, pal. The D’s don’t stand for different words. They’re all the same D.”

“Oh, for the love of Jonah, you don’t mean it’s like those triple-X pictures I keep hearing about? The ones the tourists whisper and snigger about in the back of the boat? And wink and nod, and make incomprehensible gestures behind the backs of the pretty female tour guides? Why, it’s simply indecent! Some of those girls are engaged persons! Miss Carolyn even teaches Sunday school! I’m telling you here and now, if you try to involve me in some repugnant scheme like that, I shall find a way to come over there and swallow you whole…”

“Relax, relax! Put down your flukes! Triple-X ain’t got nothin’ to do with triple-D! Well, not in this context, anyhow. 3D pictures is just like regular pictures, but they don’t look flat, is all. There’s nothin’ to it. I promise. Skull’s honor.”

“Skull’s honor? Is that supposed to mean something?”

“Hey, I got honor! I just got a jolly Jack tar, kind of pirate rogue, yo ho, hail-fellow-well-met, how’s your uncle kind of personality thing goin’ on. It sells the tuna sammiches. Cross my bones and hope to die. Again.”

“All right. Do I need to do anything special?”

“Nope. Just sit there and look like a whale. Listen, you go back to sleep, and if they call for you I’ll give you the old signal.”

“Gargling Schubert’s “Ave Maria” in the key of D-Major?”

“You know it, Monty; you know it.”

“I really wish the third D was for dentistry. Not just because of my constant respackling, but you could get those gaps repaired. A fine duo we make in the twentieth century!”

“And yet, we can talk just fine and understand each other completely. I don’t think our mouths are even built to move. You’re the smart one, Kid-Swallower. How do we manage that?”

“Do I look like Henry Higgins or something? I’m a decorative cetacean and you’re a vaguely macabre garden sprinkler. If people are looking to us to explain the mechanics of vocal diction, they’ve got bigger problems to figure out than that. Good night, Skull Rock.”

“Sweet dreams, Monstro. You’re a whale of a guy. May flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.”