If you’re seeing this, something’s gone a bit wonky. This is the old method to view a random dream (and apparently doesn’t work anymore. Maybe you’d like to try again?
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Broken-Foot Buddha
Palace of flags, maze of interlocking metal gridwork platforms with flags hanging down. Taking certain flags and letting them fall to the understory, where I see them crumple. Los Angeles vibe with big, distant sky.
Baby puffer fish (which are also baby rats) let out of cage/tank by glass sliding door near the bottom. Timid explorations. Central Europe, maybe Germany, floating log in lake I jump over to get to rocky shore.
Giant Buddha statue with broken foot. The toes are small and conical, curved upward. The statue is holding spoons and forks, balancing bags in front on it’s arms (perhaps backpacks hadn’t been invented, perhaps this encourages mindfulness). The statue is supported on it’s sides by the massive rock face. I move the foot back underneath and it fits nearly perfectly, but I’m informed the statue might still collapse on it.
Public gathering at a dining/entertainment venue similar to Medieval Times. Dave asks in front of the crowd what I’m drinking from the bottle next to me — it’s some really lovely homemade kombucha. A young FTM transman realizes they’re surrounded by female friends, and it’s the trust they’ve always wanted. The friends surround him in a tight hug.
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The New Apartment
On a public street near a riverbank somewhere downtown, things appear neglected and abandoned. Around the corner there’s a grand old white-columned courthouse that has seen better days. Old cars rust outside industrial-sized garages — no people can be seen. I’m there to move into the neighborhood. Eventually, with time, the residents show themselves. It’s a bit of an initiation they do.
In the living space I settle into there’s a rat cage, not much bigger than a 10-gallon terrarium, but which is decorated beautifully with plant clippings and dry moss. Around the corner in this strangely welcoming squat group-style apartment is a leopard in small cage. It’s at first unfriendly, even hostile. Then one day it asks to be handled and is so friendly I almost let it escape by rolling through a crunchy plastic carry-out box.
Working on a student project of some kind, I take figurines of the evil Mongol leader from Mulan and add a jet-pack. Mostly, this doesn’t result in its limbs being melted off — mostly. Heph, my partner, does a much more diligent job and regales us with a moving story (which I watch through a gap underneath the rat cage). Blake is also living here, and I recall it being her birthday. The dream ends outside in a oddly-shaped triangular parcel, cars parked tight, with stalagmites of rust rising out of the ground.
Hey. Nice.
…
Just to explain the joke (which everyone loves) this is the obligatory mention whenever the number 69 appears for some reason. It’s not at all apparent, but in the backend (heh) of my website… this post is is ID #69. So… hence the post.
Glad we got that sorted out.
Grams plays drums on stage during play-reenactment of her wedding, Pa is there. student reps passing close between chair rows.
Patrick’s bedroom is my old bedroom, the one by the cactus garden. One side opens into a kitchen. He plays video games sitting on his bed with a friend. The bed is positioned where our old bunk beds were when we first moved into the Cat City house.
In the game you control the directional thrust of a spaceship spinning at great speed around the center of the galaxy, with the goal of covering as much space as possible. Patrick seems pretty skilled at this and the level ends with him skidding out into intergalactic space.
Dad operates an orange juice machine and tells me mom is still alive… or is alive again? Hm.
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Kid Cartomancer
I’m a reporter with Vice, and I’m a bit under-prepared for an assignment interviewing a precocious kid at his school. I only learn the kid is deaf because he has sign language translator. He’s introverted, wears glasses, Asian, intense focus, the unmistakable attention-center of the classroom. He’s a cartomancer.
The classroom map seems normal, and it is normal. It depicts just any ol’ day in the world, and the filigreed design at the bottom is labelled “Uncool”. Attached in a small plastic pocket to the map is a spare nitrous oxide charger, empty.
Trying to wrap up my interview, I start writing on the classroom tables to ask the kid, who seems insightful and gifted although inaccessible, “any ideas what I should do next?” This proves very difficult (admittedly I think I was using a brownie. Eventually I gave up and unpacked my laptop again, though typing was much easier. He gave me an answer, I woke up and it seemed a different dream than usual…
Flying around on a pair of huge speakers, pointed down. There’s a barely audible interference effect that repels it from the ground. It’s quite maneuverable, similar to this Flyboarding video I recently watched:
I ride it into a train junkyard full of salvage materials. I sneak behind a couch near the desk of a president. Lynae distracts him and we sneak out a side door while exaggeratedly ineffective security guards (who are in cahoots with us, anyway) are summoned. After this, the flyer is now made of rope and split into separate entities. A chase begins between a rope-helicopter which sports a lasso on its nose, and the trio of Bobby Hill, Connie Souphanousinphone (King of the Hill) combined with Connie Maheswaran (Steven Universe), and a charming old black guy. Rope is wound into a tight helix about their legs one at a time, and the three of them are propelled through the sky with the unspooling momentum. Connie/Connie switches kissing between the two.
Trying out a new apartment without the supervision of the landlord. Bright windows sunlit in the distance, broad open white spaces. Lying in bed with Lynae I notice a stray container of purple U-Stick glue rolling around the circumference of the room, oddly stuck to the walls with static electricity. As I note this to Lynae, it destabilizes and falls on her, startling her a bit. I say “at least I warned you, imagine the startle if I hadn’t.” Thus woken, we check out the kitchen (with two light switches), the bathroom (two of them), with two big open showers and two toilets each near two doorways. Terribly unprivate huge bathroom.
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Steve Reich Rethought
Podcast: Play in new window | Download
A collection of rare remixes and interpretations of works by influential American composer Steve Reich. Sourced mostly from SoundCloud, so you’re unlikely to have ever come across them before. Genre skews between danceable to downtempo, with a bit of ambient thrown in for breathing room.
Made by a fan, out of musical homages by fans, inspired by the art of someone who’s very obviously a huge fan of Music-with-a-capitol-M.
This same Steve Reich Rethought mix is also available on MixCloud.
- Coloreater – Six Marimbas — Steve Reich (Coloreater Remix)
- Röyksopp – Electric Counterpoint III. Fast – RYXP’s Milde Salve
- Somadrone – Steve Reich DRUMMING (Somadrone Remix)
- Violetta Lehmann Quartet – Steve Reich Electric Counterpoint Remix
- AB Sounds – Steve Reich – Drumming(s) (AB Remix)
- YGO SENTRIG – Music for 18 musicians, Section VII remix
- Prof Purple – Steve Reich- 2×5 (Jeremy Malvin Remix)
- Mattias Häggström Gerdt – Steve Reich – 2x5x808 Remix
- Adrian van den Broëck – Steve Reich ambient remix
- Denis Clifford – Steve Reich – The Four Sections (Carabas Remix)
- Eamonom – Drumming By Steve Reich – A remix
- Stand Still Band – Music for 18 musicians by S. Reich (Standstill & Refree free electric cover) live
- Evan Kuchar – Reich 2×5 (evan k remix)
- Hounds Tooth – Steve Reich Violin Phase-Houndstooth (Remix)
- gangsinu04 – Music with 70 clicks (Philip Glass and Steve Reich Remix)
- chrisofthelane – Remix – 50 Years of Steve Reich
- Future Kamba – Steve Reich – Electric Counterpoint (mps PILOT’s Future Takamba Remix)
- Tubesties – Steve Reich – Violin Phase (Tubesties Remix)
- Maison Paste – Music for Pieces of Reich (Collage Remix)
- sirmassim-odolce – Switched On Different Trains (rough Steve Reich remix)
- Meridian Responce – Enter the Reich (Music for 18 Musicians) (Meridian Responce Remix)
- XLR8R – Steve Reich & Coldcut Music for 18 Musicians (Maceo Plex Remix)
- Steve Reich – Electric Counterpoint: III. Fast (RYXP True to Original edit)
- Dario Lanzellotti – Steve Reich – Pulses (Dario Lanzellotti Remix)
- Powerplant – Electric Counterpoint II Slow
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Tiny Vacation Cabin of Mystery
A log cabin, set up between two pieces of playground equipment. It’s a rental and we’re staying there soon, so I show up early and work in the electrical closet to set up routers before our stay.
The house is small and charming, but I happen to watch one of the staff as she goes into the basement. It has a very slight slope — 1/3 of a story per turn, dug out like Mr. Mulligan’s Steam Shovel — and at the bottom of this narrow inverted pyramid-like space there’s a small door, almost a hatch.
She disappears in there with some linens while I return upstairs to lounge and puzzle over how I might get in to this space, you know, for completionist’s sake.
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The House of Inequity
I’m a driver for a lowbrow company/boarding school/cult/orphanage. The roads around our compound are muddy and sometimes motor homes in particular become mired in the muck. After one such workday I come back for a shower (in one of the open, sunlit hexagonal group showers) only to find that it’s under repair yet again.
I’m shunted away to what I’m lead to believe is a reserve bathroom, but which has since been converted to a cramped bedroom barely large enough to contain a single, rumpled bed. The place seems to have been a proper bathroom in the 60s. One slanted wall with grimy oval cutouts once would’ve held stately vanity mirrors. I notice that the dimly-lit, echo-y, white tile walls go up unusually high. In fact they keep going up, narrowing into a disused laundry chute — and sneaky access to the otherwise tightly restricted rest of the house.
I’m spotted and nearly dragged off on the first floor I climb to. But from what I could see, it’s a common room, furnishings covered in felt, wooden bunk beds, a 70s handcrafted summer camp vibe… but with the disjointed quality of a children’s bedroom used by adults. The couple I narrowly escaped from could’ve been in a secret relationship, for all I know. No one felt free in this place, though our — were they teachers, minders, managers? — they certainly seemed to be rich enough.
I make it to the top floor, the attic built as an addition atop our oversized building, with bright panoramic windows that are so-angled as to show puffy blue-and-white skies. The people up here sport schoolmarm hairdos and Marie Curie-like studiousness, but to my great vindication, are also preparing an invasion force to wrest control of the rest of the house. This Gryffindor Army gave the impression of fierce, dark resolve. Surely one day theirs will be a glorious fight.
Exploring the upper floor further, I access a balcony that was used in the past for us to monitor the land around the main house. About 90% of this beautiful outdoor spot has been fenced off and replaced with an automated monitoring station. One rickety telescope off to the side for us, at least. I spy an open field of light brown grass freckled with isolated low trees. A single park bench. Nearer to the house, a gated-off chichi picnic dining area. A long elegant bench for rich people to eat our trendy “sweetie creamies”.
Unfortunately, this is about when I awoke. The Calea Zacatechichi I took about 3 hours ago seemed to have a-stirred up some curious stuff, though.