Neko Case and I are trapped in a hotel room. We're looking out the window and below us is a mob made up mostly of cops, people from Neko's record label and strange men running around in lab coats. The cops are shouting for us to get out of there, they've got the place surrounded, and if we don't comply they'll gas us out. It's at this point that I notice we're both dressed in 1930s era gangster suits. I ask Neko what the big deal is, and frantically she says her new album is going to drop in a few days, and they want her to get in "that thing." She's really starting to freak and I ask her "What thing??" She points outside and in the middle of the street I see a huge silver disc, propped up on a sort of platform and surrounded by strange machines manned by the lab coat guys. It looks like a giant CD. I ask her what that is, and she replies rather incredulously "Well duh, it's a CD! Those scientist guys are going to stick me into that thing, shrink it, and make millions of copies! How'd you think CDs were made, anyway?!"
Showing posts with label Dream. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dream. Show all posts
Monday, April 21, 2008
Friday, April 11, 2008
DREAM THEATRE Part 6: You Sunk My Battleship!
My friend told me about this dream he had where he and I were wandering around a museum, and we came upon an enormous room filled with giant replicas of battleships and submarines. Within that room was a special area where you could play Battleship, the old Milton Bradley game, but your game pieces were the giant models, each about the size of a dining table. So we each chose just one battleship, and proceeded to play. Whenever my friend would call out coordinates he would miss, but every one of mine were hits. Then much to his dismay, he realized upon closer inspection of his side of the board, that the whole board was actually laid out on top of the ship, so EVERY coordinate I called out were hits! The dream ended before he could call out "You sunk my battleship!"
Monday, March 17, 2008
DREAM THEATRE Part 5: The End Of It All
This one was particularly disturbing because I've never had a dream this vivid, and so highly involved and finely detailed. It's as if the whole thing came to me fully realized and complete.
It starts off with a friend telling me about a great movie from the 70s, the title of which I'm familiar with but have never seen. I resolve that very day to watch it, so I rent it at the local video store. As I sit in my living room and start the DVD, the dream shifts and I become one of the characters in the movie.
It takes place in a huge compound somewhere off the Eastern seaboard, where the president and his advisors (of which I am one) are in heated talks with another superpower. Success would mean a lasting peace between our nations, and failure, a full scale nuclear war the likes of which would decimate the planet. In the midst of negotiations, the president's youngest child, a boy of 6 or 7, goes missing. He's found wandering around the perimeter of the compound, but as the days go by he manages to wander off farther and farther away from home. He's invariably found at a small town nearby, or at the beach, always by himself, scribbling nonsensical images and words on walls or in the sand. He's finally locked in a room somewhere within the compound, never to escape again.
Then mysteriously, one by one, the president's advisors are systematically murdered, the perpetrator specifically targeting those in the staff in favor of a peaceful resolution to the talks, leaving the war mongers alive. It's then that I find out the horrible unspeakable truth: 1) that the president is the murderer, 2) that he's not acting of his own volition but is, in fact, possessed. 3) That he's not possessed by an evil power, but by God, who has gone mad and wants to bring about the end of the human race by starting nuclear Armageddon. 4) That if the president isn't stopped his power will only increase so that he becomes virtually invincible, and 5) that the president's son was possessed by an angel that was trying to warn us of what was going to happen.
I know that I'll be killed next. By this time the president has become something completely different, something so alien and god-like that to merely look at him would mean your instant death. His thunderous footfalls shake the floors as he pursues me through the compound. I search in vain for a place to hide, and find myself in a basement where my brother and baby nephew are hiding. They're scared and I want to save them but I know they would just slow me down, so I leave them for certain death and escape out a back door. I hear screams and a low growling behind me as I race outside.
I make my way to a neighboring village. As soon as I arrive I notice a boy of about 12 on the street and call out to him. He looks familiar, but for the life of me I can't place how I might know him. I catch his eye and he looks at me in sheer terror, turns and runs away. I chase after him, convinced that he must know something. I finally corner him and he's sobbing, begging for his life. Breathless, I try to calm him down as best I can. I tell him I mean him no harm, I just want to know who he is. He looks me in the eye and says but you know who I am. You forced me to help you kill your friend! It's then that I realize God had also possessed me and who knows how many others to kill people. There's no escape and I know this is the end. That's when the dream ends.
It starts off with a friend telling me about a great movie from the 70s, the title of which I'm familiar with but have never seen. I resolve that very day to watch it, so I rent it at the local video store. As I sit in my living room and start the DVD, the dream shifts and I become one of the characters in the movie.
It takes place in a huge compound somewhere off the Eastern seaboard, where the president and his advisors (of which I am one) are in heated talks with another superpower. Success would mean a lasting peace between our nations, and failure, a full scale nuclear war the likes of which would decimate the planet. In the midst of negotiations, the president's youngest child, a boy of 6 or 7, goes missing. He's found wandering around the perimeter of the compound, but as the days go by he manages to wander off farther and farther away from home. He's invariably found at a small town nearby, or at the beach, always by himself, scribbling nonsensical images and words on walls or in the sand. He's finally locked in a room somewhere within the compound, never to escape again.
Then mysteriously, one by one, the president's advisors are systematically murdered, the perpetrator specifically targeting those in the staff in favor of a peaceful resolution to the talks, leaving the war mongers alive. It's then that I find out the horrible unspeakable truth: 1) that the president is the murderer, 2) that he's not acting of his own volition but is, in fact, possessed. 3) That he's not possessed by an evil power, but by God, who has gone mad and wants to bring about the end of the human race by starting nuclear Armageddon. 4) That if the president isn't stopped his power will only increase so that he becomes virtually invincible, and 5) that the president's son was possessed by an angel that was trying to warn us of what was going to happen.
I know that I'll be killed next. By this time the president has become something completely different, something so alien and god-like that to merely look at him would mean your instant death. His thunderous footfalls shake the floors as he pursues me through the compound. I search in vain for a place to hide, and find myself in a basement where my brother and baby nephew are hiding. They're scared and I want to save them but I know they would just slow me down, so I leave them for certain death and escape out a back door. I hear screams and a low growling behind me as I race outside.
I make my way to a neighboring village. As soon as I arrive I notice a boy of about 12 on the street and call out to him. He looks familiar, but for the life of me I can't place how I might know him. I catch his eye and he looks at me in sheer terror, turns and runs away. I chase after him, convinced that he must know something. I finally corner him and he's sobbing, begging for his life. Breathless, I try to calm him down as best I can. I tell him I mean him no harm, I just want to know who he is. He looks me in the eye and says but you know who I am. You forced me to help you kill your friend! It's then that I realize God had also possessed me and who knows how many others to kill people. There's no escape and I know this is the end. That's when the dream ends.
Thursday, February 28, 2008
DREAM THEATRE Part 4: A Cavalcade of Shorts
A selection of strange dreams culled from old journals.
The Sitter. I'm taking care of a rabbit, a cat, and a baby. I have to make sure that the rabbit doesn't leave the house, that the cat doesn't kill the rabbit or scratch out the baby's eyes, and of course that the baby's needs are taken care of. This is a recurring dream that always ends with the rabbit escaping from its hutch and the cat giving chase, while the baby screams inconsolably.
Daemon Bear. I'm at a carnival watching a bear perform tricks much to the amusement of a delighted audience. It's my job to keep an eye on the bear if it decides to do its "thing." Sure enough, it bolts to the side of the stage mid-performance and transforms into what it really is: a demon. I run out after it but can't seem to catch it. In fact, it starts chasing me around the stage, much to the delight of an amused audience.
Lions in the Street. I'm walking along a quiet residential neighborhood and ahead of me I see a lion in front of a driveway. I turn around and see another one crossing the street. I'm scared but keep my wits about me, calmly walking to the front door of the nearest house and ringing the doorbell. A kindly old lady answers and invites me in. She pours me a cup of tea and as I look outside from a gorgeous bay window in her living room, she explains that the lions are harmless... it's the tigers you have to watch out for. I had this dream about a year and a half before the escaped tiger incident at the SF Zoo, so I'm not quite sure what nether region of my arse I pulled this one from.
The Sound. I'm in a creepy forest lined with withered, dead trees. Leaves are strewn all about the forest floor, ankle deep. Everything is black and white. It's cold and a thick mist hangs low just a few yards above my head so that I can't see the sky. All of a sudden I hear a reverberating murmur behind me, a sad lament calling me from the other side of the forest, and it chills my bones. I know that I have to leave this place before it catches up to me. I trudge across the dreary wood as fast as I'm able but the sound gets louder and louder behind me. I reach a meadow in the middle of which there is a ladder that will take me above the hanging mist, and hopefully to freedom. The sound is all around me now, a terrible ghostly chanting, and fear engulfs me, numbing my body and slowing my pace. As I grip the ladder and begin my ascent, the dream ends. The sound was my stereo alarm, and I had set it so that it would play The Empty Hollow Unfolds, a CD of scary as hell ambient music by one of my favs of the genre, Raison d'Être.
Monday, September 3, 2007
DREAM THEATRE Part 3: Pinocchio 2: Electric Boogaloo
Little robot companions have become all the rage, so I purchase one. They all look either like Curious George, or Paddington Bear. I decide on the latter. Once activated, the 2 ft. tall animatron will follow you anywhere and everywhere. I'm really liking it. In fact, I'm thrilled. It's like having the ultimate pet. It doesn't poop or need to be fed, and it obeys your every command with almost no training. So life is great.
Then, the manufacturer begins offering an "upgrade", which comes in the form of a tiny silver heart that you place inside the robot's torso. Intrigued, I buy it not really knowing what will happen. As soon as I perform the "operation", I notice that the robot's features undergo a radical transformation: it morphs into a spitting image of me, right down to the glasses and receding hairline! For a while it's still great, "mini-me" is my constant companion everywhere I go. Then odd things start to happen. I notice "mini-me" wandering off every once in a while, and I have to call out to him a few times instead of just once to get him to come back to me. I get really suspicious when he begins hanging out with some local school kids and ignores me all together.
Then my fears become a shocking reality one day while visiting the store where I first bought "mini-me." I pull a robot off the shelf and take it out of the package, then I stand it up next to "mini-me". I find that "mini" is a full 2 feet taller. The robot has turned into a real growing human being!
Friday, June 8, 2007
DREAM THEATRE Part 2: Rock Star
I've passed myself off as Gene Simmons and I'm onstage with Kiss performing to a packed stadium of screaming fans. I've managed look just like Gene in hair and make-up, and I can pose out with a bass just like him, but then I realize I actually have to play, which I can't do because I've never picked up a bass in my life. I try to play along, hoping that the audience won't know the difference, but then people in the front are booing me and the other band members start looking at me funny. Finally, Ace Frehley runs over to me and barks "Dude, get off the fucking stage!" I walk away super embarrassed, and totally disappointed that I won't get any post-show groupie action. It's funny because in real life I can't stand Kiss!
Tuesday, May 15, 2007
DREAM THEATRE Part 1: Magic Coffee
Best coffee mug EVER...
I often write my dreams down whenever I can remember them. They are an endless source of wonder and amusement to me. This is one of my favorites:
At work, I see a co-worker coming out of the break room, cup of coffee in hand, but I notice that the coffee is shimmery and bubbling, and little sparks are flying from the top of the cup. I ask her "Whoa! What's up with the coffee?" and she says "Oh, it's magic coffee." without missing a beat. I just look at her, perplexed, at which point she waves me over to the break room. On the counter, instead of a coffee maker I see 3 tiny leprechauns stirring a big ole pot of joe. I turn to my co-worker with a confounded look on my face, and she deadpans "Let's go downstairs." We ride the elevator to the lobby, exit the building and walk next door into a hardware store. A sales clerk approaches us and asks if we need help finding anything. My co-worker replies "Yes, can you–" then immediately pulls a magic wand from her purse, waves it at the poor clerk and turns her into a leprechaun just like the ones in the break room. She pockets the little sprite, turns to me and nonchalantly says "We'll get 3 more then leave."
I often write my dreams down whenever I can remember them. They are an endless source of wonder and amusement to me. This is one of my favorites:
At work, I see a co-worker coming out of the break room, cup of coffee in hand, but I notice that the coffee is shimmery and bubbling, and little sparks are flying from the top of the cup. I ask her "Whoa! What's up with the coffee?" and she says "Oh, it's magic coffee." without missing a beat. I just look at her, perplexed, at which point she waves me over to the break room. On the counter, instead of a coffee maker I see 3 tiny leprechauns stirring a big ole pot of joe. I turn to my co-worker with a confounded look on my face, and she deadpans "Let's go downstairs." We ride the elevator to the lobby, exit the building and walk next door into a hardware store. A sales clerk approaches us and asks if we need help finding anything. My co-worker replies "Yes, can you–" then immediately pulls a magic wand from her purse, waves it at the poor clerk and turns her into a leprechaun just like the ones in the break room. She pockets the little sprite, turns to me and nonchalantly says "We'll get 3 more then leave."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)