I’m really trying to figure out a way to work in a “THE BEES!!!” joke, but I’m drawing a blank…
“Killing me won’t won’t bring back your %#!@# shields!”
“How in the name of Yoda’s butthole did that little droid do it?”
“Put…the…fuel…back in the hyperdrive.”
“I work in a little glass jar and lead a very uneventful life. I drive a Nubian, a silver one. But what I’m dealing with here is a city the size of a planet, so what say you cut me some friggin’ slack?”
“People don’t throw things at me any more. Maybe because I catch on pretty quick.”
“The deflector shield is too strong! Oh no not the blasters! Not the blasters! AHH they’re in my eyes!! My EYES!! AHHHHHHH!!!”
You probably don’t recognize me because of the red arm.
Episode 9 Rewrite, The Starlight Project (Released!) and ANH Technicolor Project (Released!)
Dreamed that Alanis Morissette, nude save for a pair of panties she’d bought from Sears, had covered herself head-to-toe in red body paint.
Alrighty then.
ITFY
Had three very strange dreams last night/this morning.
FIRST DREAM
SECOND DREAM
Andrea Nemeth and I were each other’s first, true loves. Though we’d been separated at some point in our early teens, we managed to reconnect through the Internet at some point in the late 2000s. Around 2008, though, she abruptly vanished. She ceased sending me e-mails, and her presence on-line became nil. The only physical clue I had to the cause behind her disappearance was a case of vials of insulin. For the next several years, I tried to find out what happened to her. I got nowhere.
THIRD DREAM
It was frigid and snowing outside. I had come down with a cold, and I was so physically weak that I kept falling over on my face, nearly paralyzed. At some point, I had a fever dream within a dream that I was clumsily trying to make love to a middle aged woman with long, straight, raven-black hair.
My latest dream:
It was the late '80s-to-very early '90s. A trio of young boys – the youngest no older than 9, the oldest no older than 12 – were luring/rounding up the other neighbourhood kids to their basement, where they would torture/murder them. The three boys, not being normal human boys, had bewitched the adults into inaction. This left the neighbourhood kids up to their own devices. In time, a large group of kids attacked the trio. Cornering the three in their own basement, the neighbourhood kids mutilated them – dismembering and disemboweling them – before tossing their still-living bodies onto a funeral pyre. As it turns out, the three boys weren’t really as young as they seemed. They had been warlocks, hundreds of years old, who had kept themselves young and alive through sorcery. As their bodies burned, the magic which had sustained them was nullified; their entrails and hacked off limbs rapidly aged and decayed into nothing as the centuries caught up with them.
The dream ended with a non sequitur. A wooden bench which had some nebulous connection with the trio morphed into a pseudo-werewolf. Then a real werewolf showed up, forced the pseudo-werewolf into a corner, and tried to entice it with a cookie into performing a backflip. When the pseudo-werewolf refused to perform the trick, the werewolf tore it to pieces.
In my dream last night, Arrival was not a Denis Villeneuve film, but was instead directed by Brian de Palma.
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I remember many fragments of many dreams of last night:
I lived in a strange game that tried to kill me. It had a cool, mostly blue aesthetic, except for one starcase that glowed yellow. I went up it once or twice. There, I joined a secret revolutionary communist group.
•
One girl was excommunicated from my school’s band by our director for “criminal” behavior. Stories varied, but the most popular was that she texted a transgender guy who moved away to California, asking for some type of pornography.
•
Old Gods created the world, and when they tried to reset it, Amazons and New Gods fought them. The New God Orion flew with his astro harness and fired beams at the Old Gods, as did the Amazons who piloted large, broze discs.
•
Something to do with Pixar’s Cars…
•
I saw graham cracker houses destroyed and thrown away.
•
I was in the elementary school auditorium. Myself and most of the rest of the students from the high school sat in there. Then, we were joined by lines of primary school students, joined by my sister, who failed high school so bad she reverted back to kindergarten. They were in two lines. The furthest from me was a modest line of kids who did not play sports, who I called “the good students.” The next line was a legion of more athletically inclined "bad students.“
A coach stood in front of us all and gave the Perritt students strange commands, which they followed. I remember only one, “Salad Snake”, which was a command to them to lie on the ground and form a shape of a giant snake. Then he commanded it of us high school students, and we had to obey.
After a while, some of us were dismissed. I opened my school-issued MacBook and found that the clock was acting strangely. The time did not move at a normal rate, but instead several minutes per second. I remember it being sometime past 10:00 PM and getting later quickly. Then, the digital clock on the screen turned into an image of a large analog clockface with roman numerals, moving at the same high speed.
•
I began watching something that seemed to be a nonexistent workprint of an unfinished Tarkovsky film.
•
I opened a Bible and found it all to have been changed by some grand, conspiratorial force. Then, letters constantly shifted on their own to spell POPE, among many other things I cannot remember. Then, a I heard a voice that misquoted Romans 2:8 as being about popes and saints that live forever. The real verse Romans 2:8 says “But unto them that are contentious, and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, indignation and wrath,” which I was not aware of until after I woke up and searched for the verse myself.
I wonder if that dream was given to me by God himself as some kind of warning against my own wickedness.
Also, the altered Bible reminded me of segments of the film Metropolis, with the robot as the whore of Babylon, but I remember not why, for nothing of that Biblical passage, nor of the film, was mentioned.
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I had a strange and wondrous dream several days ago. Time has blurred the memory and imagery of the dream, though, so my forthcoming recollection isn’t going to sound as awesome or as eerie as the dream truly was.
It began as one of my irritating “back to high school” dreams, but it evolved into a dream about me being a patient in a hospital. The chief physician — who looked exactly like Bob Gunton — wanted me discharged from the hospital. IIRC, I was actually being paid to be there, and Dr. Gunton didn’t like that. Plus he was involved in some illicit business dealings, and didn’t want me around to uncover them. There was another doctor there, a nice guy who kinda looked like Brian McNamara. He wanted me to stick around and tried devising ways to prolong my stay. In the end though, Dr. Gunton got what he wanted, and I was discharged. I stuck around, though, and tried to keep out of Dr. Gunton’s sight as I searched the hospital for clues. IIRC, I eventually found out that he was in league with evil Lovecraftian entities.
At one point in the dream, while I was wandering about the corridors, Audrey Horne from Twin Peaks manifested out of thin air before me. She had come from the past, 'cause she was still young. She bore fresh burn scars, so I reckon she came from some point in time shortly following the second season finale, after she was caught in that bank explosion. Just as suddenly as she appeared, she vanished. Later, the present-day Audrey showed up. I, Dr. McNamara, and she discussed the event; she had no recollection of ever having experienced such a time warp in her past.
My last dream was pretty damn pathetic. I was frying myself up two jumbo-sized cheeseburgers. When my back was turned, they transformed into a pair of overcooked weiners.
Lame.
I’m calling dog’s bollocks on that one.
Perhaps. Who’s to say what they put in weiners these days.
Last night I dreamt that I discovered a global conspiracy to brainwash/kill the masses and turn them into digital avatars of their former selves on a phone app, which resulted in someone throwing lawnmowers at me and messing with the dimensions of my house and nearly killing me several times.
That was a dream within the dream, and when I “woke up,” I discovered a “real” global conspiracy of a similar nature. This time, I ran around trying to warn my friends that I had seen this all in a dream, but they didn’t believe me, of course.
I woke up from this other dream within a dream to find that I had discovered a “real” global conspiracy definitely for real this time. It was a vicious cycle of nightmare.
I remember more details of each of the dreams, but I know not how to describe them, which is disappointing because this could be a fun story if I knew how to really tell it.
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Last night I dreamt that I discovered a global conspiracy to brainwash/kill the masses and turn them into digital avatars of their former selves on a phone app,
O boy, another nightmare! To make a long story short, I narrowly avoided execution by a group of vigilante teachers/parents/“concerned citizens” several times. Each time, a biopic was made of me and those who weren’t as lucky, and even the people that believed me and the movies forgot all about it within minutes or didn’t know how to help, so I spent a lot of time running.
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[JEDIT]
Wrong thread.
Some days ago, I had a dream that I watched footage from an early cut of ROTJ. Here’re the details I recall from the dream:
“Anakin” was played by Mark Hamill himself. Here’s what Mark looked like in the old-age makeup:
Dear Subconscious Mind,
Stop sending me dreams about her. Such dreams are almost invariably some combination of disappointing, depressing, and frustrating. As my FUBARed relationship with her in the real world is all of the above (and then some), I’d prefer it if you fucked off.
Sincerely,
DuracellEnergizer
Had a pair of quite unusual dreams last night.
The first dream was about an archaic human — a Cro-Magnon, a Neanderthal, or a hybrid between the two — who became a werewolf. The details escape me, but he wasn’t an animalistic killing machine; he retained his human intelligence and used his lycanthropy only in defense of his tribe.
The second was far more bizarre, and I recall even less of it. Godlike entities transported myself and a number of other individuals to another planet/universe. Once there, we became overlords in possession of advanced technology. I befriended one of my fellow overlords — a woman who resembled Suzanne Vega, only curvier — and began hanging out at her citadel/supermarket, where I drank a pitcher of ice-cold milk which was just divine. She and I eventually entered into an intense romantic/sexual relationship. Then she, I, and the other overlords were transported back to Earth, along with our advanced citadels.
Dreamt last night that a friend of mine died of influenza, but no one could prove to me that he died, as there was no funeral, obituary, just rumor. I was still a bit paranoid when I woke up.
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I awoke this morning from a dream which included Daredevil, the Kingpin, the aliens from Majora’s Mask, and school kids collecting cigarette butts. I’ll be damned if I can recall how it all fit together, though.
I dreampt that I was on a bus and Joel Hodgson was there, and we met. It was cool. Then we were in some room and Joel had a computer in front of him, and a girl I know from school was there now. Joel said we had to write stories, and the girl said I was good at writing fanfiction, which confused me because I don’t write fanfiction and I’m not a terribly good writer regardless. Then Joel said “name a film by the Coens with the Rens,” and then another similar demand that I don’t remember. I was really confused and I didn’t know what he was talking about, but then I woke up.
Army of Darkness: The Medieval Deadit | The Terminator - Color Regrade | The Wrong Trousers - Audio Preservation
SONIC RACES THROUGH THE GREEN FIELDS.
THE SUN RACES THROUGH A BLUE SKY FILLED WITH WHITE CLOUDS.
THE WAYS OF HIS HEART ARE MUCH LIKE THE SUN. SONIC RUNS AND RESTS; THE SUN RISES AND SETS.
DON’T GIVE UP ON THE SUN. DON’T MAKE THE SUN LAUGH AT YOU.
I constantly dream about her now, and it sucks.
My Last two dreams:
I watched a horror/thriller starring Tom Sizemore. Sizemore’s character was a real piece of nasty work; he volunteered at soups kitchen only to deliberately contaminate the food with soap, rancid fat, and other unmentionables; he was a grave robber; and it was heavily implied he was a sexual predator who had molested his own daughter. As I recall, the plot was about him stalking a beautiful woman who happened to live next door to his favourite cemetery.
Norman Bates and I had been combined into a single person living during the early '80s. I wish I could describe this dream in detail, but it’s too convoluted to make sense of. All I can say with certainty is that the mummified corpses of Norma Bates and one of my victims looked incredibly cheap — like “gray alien ragdoll” cheap — and Susan Clark made an appearance.
