In a dream just now, I learned that the quote “NEVAAAR! SISKO SISKO SISKO SISKO!” is actually an amalgamation from two different coin-operated golf games from the 1960s.
I really can’t get enough of this cliffhanger.
This is the kind of situation I’m always afraid I’ll find myself in if I don’t pay attention. This is what my nightmares are like. His look at the end, there — that self-realization. On top of the confused, not altogether intentional comedy there’s a layer of existential terror. I remember a discussion with my phenomenology professor at Orono, where she described her fear of railings, lest she happen to fling herself over them. Not that she wanted to; that was the point!
It’s not exactly the same, but when I was maybe six I dreamed that my older sister and I were walking along a ledge above a deep chasm, and I knew that if she kept telling jokes we’d fall. I tried to tell her that, but she, well, laughed it off. And we fell, and I died. That lacks the crucial lack of self possession on my part, but the logic is similarly surreal.
I keep hearing that, for some reason, you can’t die in dreams. I wonder who made up that rule, because I’ve been dying since I was little. Usually with a loud crunch, and a sharp pain, and darkness. Then things move on…
Last night I dreamed about washing my socks.
It was really complicated.
“Government scientists developed a drug named Rygar” — conspiracy nut, about a supposed anti-errection product in the water supply.
To: Tim Rogers
In a dream I just had, you suggested that OutRun should have strikers in it (as in a fighting game) and that they should be cars full of old people, as a symbol of the speed of aging.
Just thought you should know.
Last night, I had a revelation in a dream: that journalism is no different from blogging. In particular, “internet journalists” are really just bloggers.
That’s kind of fun.
Investigative journalism is something else. Perhaps even professional journalism. In essense, though, there’s the principle.
I had a dream about the N-Gage.