18.2.05 | I Had a Dream, Joe
I've brought you all here today to discuss dreams.
To take our minds off ageing and our imminent demise. Especially Your imminent demise. I personally am gonna live for several thousand years, due to an unfortunate accident involving a stray meteor, a time machine, and an irrascible food mixer. (Best not to ask. The answer would only "upset" you).
The rest of you have got until 2014 or thereabouts.
Anyway. As i was saying. I thought i'd take our minds off all this misery for a spell, by discussing dreams.
I am "blessed" with having a vast dream repetory. My dreams are so good, they should be copyrighted and used for suing sci-fi directors. Also bad porn directors. And pop-video makers who have done faaar too much acid. Especially them.
Currently on rotation in the cineplex of my dream mind:
The "End-of-the-World" type dream: I have this one constantly. The skies are dark. The land is torn. Smoke everywhere. And lights in the sky coming from the east. I am utterly terrified in the dream. It's so bad it makes the forthcoming Spielberg 'War of the Worlds' look like a scooter ride with Po around Teletubby Land. How do i know that? I watched the entire film in another dream only last week.
"Gropeage in a Bathtub" dream: Gropeage. In a (large) bathtub. That flies. Yes, flies. Muchness of bubbles. Muchness soap. Muchness of effing flying! And not as muchness of gropeage as there should be! I demand a contract with someone about this! I hate flying with no obvious means of support! It's not like the bastard bathtub has wings or anything- the fucker just swoops along, blithely ignorant to my pleas to "Slow the fuck down!". Still, at least the grrls are always variable and attractive. And for the most part, Of This Planet. Always a bonus, that. Hmm, i think i may be a slut in my dreams... But i'd be more of a slut if the effin' bathtub stopped flying!!! Goddam! (Is this TMI? Tooo bad!)
and speaking of flying and heights...
"The Floating Cathedral" dream. What the fuck is this all about? Eh? A HUUUGE cathedral that just hangs in the air about 300 metres (Yards? No idea. Besides, yards are bollocks!) above Harle Syke. There are occasionally real Angels who fly out of it on some funky looking flying motor-cycles. I want one of those when they come out, btw! Oh ,and if anyone mentions Independence Day, i shall petition that they be sodomized by a giraffe. The whole giraffe mind. I've had this dream (Cathedral dream, not a giraffe dream. What kind of weirdo do yer think i am, eh?)since i was a child. And ain't that big a fan of sci-fi, either. So, nerr! (Oh, and to avoid accusations of cruelty to the giraffe, it would of course, be attired in an appropriate wetsuit and have breathing apparatus. AND goggles!)
Another "Cathedral" dream i have, is one where i'm inside a cathedral the size of a Himalayan mountain (Hollow). And am climbing up several thousand steps to some ridiculous Alice In Wonderland crazy pulpit. And Noo handrail! Why do my dreams do this to me? Why? Whyyy?Are they just bastards naturally? They should know by now, i hate heights. Merciless. And bastards.
So of course, my dreams know i suffer from vertigo etc. So whadda they do next? Put me on the side of the biggest fucking mountain you could only imagine in dreams. Probably the size of a small continent. We're talking about the kind of mountain that would pick on Everest and the rest of the Himalayas at school. And make them hand over all their dinner money.
But the stupidest dream i've ever had was last week. Yes, it was the "Not Very Stereotypical Spy Apples" kind of dream. In the dream, i was watching these two (Bright green) apples (Probably Granny Smiths) roll their way to safety and freedom from the secret complex of some Mr Big Evil Genius. Sean Connery etc. would have been impressed. Personally i was impressed by how very bad the acting and comedy moments were. A lot like those 007 movies actually. It may well have been as bad, but i was still trying to get my poor tormented mind around apples playing the lead roles. Y'know, it wouldn't surprise me if the director in my dream, deliberately recruited apples to obfuscate the bad plot and acting. Anyway, the apples (kinda cute ones) managed to escape. With only minor bruising. More bruised was my sanity. I mean. I spend half my waking hours trying to get into a restful slumber. And then when i do, i get psychically assaulted from God knows where! It can't be all my fault, can it? Can it?
Hey, put that straightjacket down!