Sunday, February 26, 2017

From the Dream Archives: My Multiversal Odyssey, Co-Starring Jennifer Connelly, Kurt Cobain, & Deborah Harry


Had two separate dreams. One was relatively normal, the other ... not so much.

In the first dream, I met and got to know Jennifer Connelly. In this dream universe, she was an artist.

(As she is art, I find that most redundant.)

Together, we designed an album cover for an album one of us was putting together.

(Though between the two of us, I know who has the greater musical talent.)

Then we made a short film together.

I then accidentally sat on the LaserDisc it was burned to and it broke into the shape of Batman's emblem.

(And here's a photo of Batman '89 on LaserDisc for your viewing pleasure.)

Finally, at the end of the dream, she kissed me.

(She had nice, full lips.)

The second dream was far more surreal and abstract. It involved me evading robbers robbing a video rental store

(Here's what I think of your 1-day rental policy, suckers.)

and gangstas going on a shooting spree

(Who pissed in their Colt 45s?)

to travel into alternate futures and realities to prevent something of Lovecraftian proportions from happening to the world.

(Obviously, I failed.)

I think Deborah Harry was my spiritual guide in this dream.

(I wish I had this much hair.)

I also met Kurt Cobain, who had never really died but became some kind of crazy Hindu-like ascetic who'd taken a pair of nuns on as wives.

(If he'd had two fun-loving sisters like these in his life, I'm certain the lyrics to "Come as You Are" would've remained unironic.)

The dream came to an end with me having to choose one of a countless number of dimensional portals to step through. The right portal would return me to Earth in the proper place and time while the others would leave me stranded in other worlds and/or times with little to no possibility of escape.

(Quinn & co. had it easy.)

Sunday, January 8, 2017

Watching '80s Horror Movies on VHS & A Talk with My Inner Spirit

Here is a pair of some truly bizarro dreams.

(Not literal Bizarro dreams, mind you.)

The first dream began with me watching B-grade horror movies from the '80s on VHS through an old CRT TV.

(By gum, those were the days.)

A young(er) Donald Trump appeared in the first movie I decided to watch, playing himself.

(Could he ever play different?)

He chastised a female character for finding religion, then began monologuing to himself on how he once sought belief in a higher power before deciding to believe in himself.

(What's that, subconscious mind? Donald Trump worships himself? I already knew that, but thanks for the info anyhow.)

Gears shifted and the second movie was on.

A small group of rich, spoiled teenagers/early twenty-somethings

decided to hold a séance in the last house remaining from a poor, decaying neighbourhood that was otherwise completely bulldozed over and replaced with brand spankin' new homes built for the rich decades ago.


Assembling at a large square table in a room located in the centre of the dark, decrepit building, they used florescent ink and florescent gas

as conjuring substances to summon forth a spirit of the house. Quite suddenly a short, squat woman with messy red hair, wild eyes, and an impossibly wide mouth materialized atop the table.

(Imagine a three-way cross between Fiona Dourif, Henrietta from Evil Dead II, and the Cheshire Cat and you get the unsettling picture.)

Scared shitless, they all bolted from the room. Some got lost in the dark trying to escape, but most managed to get out to safety. I don't know what became of those trapped in the house with the spirit made flesh.

(But really, I do.)

That dream came to an end and the second dream commenced.

I was now in a sterile classroom, where a social worker

(who will now be played by the saucy Elisa Donovan)

gave me a list of outfits which could help me find a job to copy down. I tried writing down some of the addresses, but for some reason I couldn't concentrate on the words and failed to do so.

(Illiteracy -- it's not just for the waking world anymore!)

In a flash, I was then on the back porch of my house. I was there with the social worker, and she was trying to communicate with my inner spirit, which looked like a human-shaped bundle of dead leaves dressed in a blue vest.

(Close enough.)

When I told the social worker her presence wasn't helping, that my inner spirit wouldn't emerge with her standing around acting all demanding, she left.

Then my inner spirit took on its true form; it looked like a dirty Avery Brooks.

(Grime to be added in post-production.)

My inner spirit then began lamenting on how it -- and by extension, I -- should've married and had kids by now.

"On second thought, I shouldn't have driven the saucy redhead away."

Sunday, January 1, 2017

Plan Deep Space Nine from Inner Space

It's 2017, people. The abomination known as 2016 AD/CE is finally dead, and long may it rot. In celebration of its much-belated demise, here is the last significant dream I had in that cruddy year!


Had myself another Star Trek dream. It took place during the Dominion War, before Jadzia Dax's death.

(She may have left this world, but not our hearts (or my personal canon).)

The premise was this: For the last several decades/couple centuries (the dream wasn't clear which), an offshoot of the Federation of Planets had been living within a pocket universe in self-imposed exile. With the coming of the Dominion War, however, they decided they wanted to return, rejoin the Federation, and help them out in their struggle against the Dominion.

Assuming the role of an anonymous goldshirt who had the hots for Jadzia,

(We would've been able to make it work, too, if it wasn't for that meddling Worf.)

I accompanied Sisko, Jadzia, Bashir, and a security team to a neutral, uninhabited planet to meet with the representatives of the Offshoots.

Once we were there, we were almost automatically attacked by Offshoot ships.

Taken prisoner, we were sent into the pocket universe to the Offshoot capital world, where we learned the Offshoots' true plan was to conquer the Federation and absorb it into their own compact empire.

Some weird metafictional crap then went down.

(No, nothing that metafictional, thank God!)

We were placed in a watery cell, 

but it really was just a shallow tank on a set with cameras trained on us.

"Could you be faster, Avery? More intense?"


Then the tank was a waterlogged wooden floor, which I laid upon and slapped to produce the in-camera sound effects.

We then found ourselves in a small room, where we found a twelve-year-old boy sitting at a table under a solitary bright light furiously cutting and trimming photographs out of magazines.

(I like him already!)

When we asked him if he was putting a collage together, he told us that while the Offshoots sometimes allowed him to glue clippings into a scrapbook, for the most part they were just forcing him to aimlessly cut the pictures out for hours on end as a form of psychological torture.

The dream got hazy from there. There was something involving an evil bulldog alien, a large cardboard box full of Simpsons comics, and Sisko being distantly related to the Offshoot ruling family, but nothing concrete and nothing I can recall past that point.

Thursday, December 22, 2016

Bryan Adams: Bounty Hunter

Had one of my patented "watching a movie" dreams.

In this movie dream, Bryan Adams played a married father of three.

(If he still wore guyliner, I could've said "mother" and thus made a joke at the expense of his masculinity. Alas, these days he's as manly as a vegan can be.)

When his youngest son died, he decided to leave his wife and two remaining children and become a bounty hunter.

"Not to worry, honeybunny. Though I leave you in a great and terrible grief to support two growing children who desperately need their father, I'll be sure to send you 25% of every bounty I collect (The remaining 75% will go towards food, clothing, supplies, hotels, and bordellos for those cold, lonely winter nights.)."

"#$%^ you, too."

Donning gray pants and a gray ranger hat with some strange head sleeve attached under the brim,

(Wear the latter under the former and you get a close approximation of what I'm trying to describe.)

he took to wandering a perpetually stormy wilderness in search of criminals to bring to justice.

"Bryan? This is God. I'd just like you to know that this all could have been avoided if you'd just retired after releasing Into the Fire."

Sunday, December 18, 2016

From the Dream Archives: Plan 9½ from Outer Space



This dream played out like a movie.

The plot was about a race of aliens

who, fed up with the way humanity had despoiled the planet, altered the sun into a dim green star.

The green sun started emitting mutagenic radiation which began turning everyone on the planet into homicidal lunatics.

Once everyone had slaughtered each other in a great orgy of blood, the radiation of the green sun would then act as an evolutionary accelerant to help produce a new sapient species to act as humanity's successors.

George C. Scott was in a starring role with Brad Dourif supporting.

(Make it so again, multiverse.)