A VISIT FROM AUNT BOOB: DEATH BY OBAMA

Once again I have invaded the dreamscape of one of my friends like Freddy Krueger, this time my good buddy Anthony. He contacted me via gchat this morning:

Anthony: are you alive i hope?
in my dream last night you were in a motorcycle accident
Anthony: during part of a parade
obama was driving the motorcycle with you and three others
were drunk, dangerously clinging to the back
you fell off and your spleen fell out
Anthony: seemingly you were able to communicate from beyond death,
since gmail, facebook, etc. technologies had massed enough
of your personal data and language
Anthony: there was a youtube video of the fall
me: so this in fact might be the e-spectre of bob talking to you
Anthony: it was exactly like this..
i think victor vazquez may have also been involved somehow
it wasn't clear if he was logged in to your gmail
Anthony: so I'm either talking to victor right now, or e-spectre
Anthony: is that distinction even meaningful?

Of course, Anthony just confirmed what doctors (esp. Ray Kurzweil) have been telling me for years – that my body is more internet than man right now, and if I die, I could ostensibly live forever, as long as Victor keeps me logged in to shit.

This post just added 17 minutes onto my life.

Read More...

WEIRD DOLPHIN LADY CAN FLY

I had a dream I was having an argument with my sister about something in the middle of an ancient redwood forest and then we got into that cartoon car from Who Framed Roger Rabbit? and drove down a giant hill that got steeper and steeper until it was vertical and then everything went black and there were flashing patterned lights and then we pulled into the Lake Merritt BART station where she said she had to go to class at Laney College and said bye and I went into a doorway and down a hallway to a place called the Japanese Underwater Museum, which was literally underwater, and I swam around looking at traditional Japanese woodblock prints.

I opened the emergency exit door and outside was a rocky plateau overlooking an ocean vista but the water did rush out of the door like it's supposed to, it just stayed there like a Jell-O mold or that one scene in The Abyss. I walked out and was like, "Where is this?" and this dude passing by who looked like either Kenny Rogers or the Gorton's fisherman but dressed like the Gorton's Fisherman said, "You're in Australia." I asked him if we were at the same latitude as El Salvador and he said that we were more south. His story checked out.

I noticed five dolphins lying on the rocks by the shore, which all simultaneously leapt into the water. Then I noticed a blonde 40-ish woman (who I figured was German, I don't know why) in a wetsuit with a bucket full of fish that she was throwing to the dolphins like she was at a water park. I climbed down the rocky plateau, sat on a rock that was mostly submerged in water and motioned with my hand to one of the dolphins with my hand as if I had some food to feed it. It swam over to me and I asked the German lady if it was cool to pet the dolphin. She said, "Yes, but be careful, they sometimes bite." She didn't have a German accent.

The dolphin kind nuzzled up to me in my lap and playfully bit at my hand. I noticed that the dolphin looked less like a dolphin and more like a beluga whale mixed with an elephant seal. Then all of a sudden I realized the dolphin was a naked woman and we were touching each other sensually.

Then the dolphin woman picked me up and we started flying around over the ocean, occasionally diving down into the water and popping back up. Everytime we dove down into the water I had the vague apprehension that a shark was right out of my line of sight and about to eat us, but then we'd zip back out of the water again and fly around. This continued for a while and then sort of blended seamlessly into some other part of the dream that I now forget.

In another part of the dream I was explaining the dream to gordongartrelle.blogspot.com bloggers Hima and Dap (a variation on the dreaming about blogging about dreaming motif I seem to have going) and a whole bunch of other shit happened but I can't quite remember. I think I was flying above a river for a while and/or river rafting... and there was some sort of standardized test I was taking I think? It was a really long dream.

Read More...

BLOG ENTRY ABOUT DREAMING ABOUT BLOGGING ABOUT DREAMING

For the past few weeks or months or something I stopped remembering my dreams, except for the occasional memory of a dream that's too vague /indescribable/boring to blog about. But in this period of time, I did have three dreams that I think came mostly from feelings of guilt for neglecting to blog about my dreams (which is kind of an embarrassingly stupid thing for my subconscious to be occupied with). The first two dreams would still probably fall under that above-mentioned category of "too vague/indescribable/boring to blog about" (TVIBTBA) But the third one I thought was pretty interesting. All three times I woke up being like "Really?"

DREAM ABOUT BLOGGING ABOUT DREAMING #1

I didn't have a body, I was a floating camera, panning across a seemingly endless bookshelf with a bunch of thick white magazines with no words on the spines. At some point I realized I was dreaming and thought to myself, "Oh shit, I should remember this dream so I could blog about it." I woke up and looked around for a pen but couldn't find one and fell back asleep. I woke up again later knowing I had had more dreams but was unable to remember any solid details. Then I remembered the panning across the bookshelf dream and considered blogging about it but didn't.

DREAM ABOUT BLOGGING ABOUT DREAMING #2

Again, I didn't have a body. The dream was really just of a red ball sitting in a white space of indeterminate size. I thought, "Oh shit, I'm having a dream, I should remember this and blog about it," and then, still in the dream, I "woke up" and started blogging about the dream. I started writing: "A red ball in a white space..." and then couldn't think of what else to say and then I actually woke up for real.

DREAM ABOUT BLOGGING ABOUT DREAMING #3

This one was more like an actual dream.

I was married with one son. My wife and I were both archeologists. We lived in a really nice apartment on the sixteenth floor of a big building. There was an elevated train track outside the window but instead of a subway it was an old-timey steam engine train that would pass by every few minutes.

My son was playing around in the living room and I passed by him and "playfully" tossed him incredibly high up into the air and when he came down I couldn't catch him and he landed on his head. I noticed his tooth came out when he fell but when I looked closer, it turned out a whole row of teeth, like dentures, had come out. He was crying and bleeding and my wife came in and yelled at me for being careless. I called an ambulance and she started cleaning the blood from the rug and when she did she started noticing heiroglyphics in the rug. She pulled out her archeology tools and started dusting the rug or whatever archeologists do and looking at it with a magnifying glass. I came over to read what it said and I saw my son's two hand prints. It's around this point that I realize I'm dreaming and say so to my wife, who suggests I blog about it, which I find funny.

The scene changes and I'm in another part of the apartment with my wife and someone who is apparently a professional dream interpreter. He's saying that my son represents me and I'm like, "Can't a man just dream about his own son without it being secretly about him?"

Read More...