Monday, January 10, 2005

A tiny little nightmare

A tiny little nightmare

Had a really bizarre dream last night. I'm writing it down to get the whole deal straight in my head. It didn't flow necessarily in a smooth narrative fashion. It's like a lot of my dreams, mainly images and sequences.

I was a contestant on Survivor. Among the other contestants were Neil, a feller I work with, a friend from college whom I haven't seen in a couple of years, my brother-in-law-to-be and my high school Latin teacher.

And in the dream, we were making the hike from the starting point of the show (which was hosted by James Earl Jones in his Thulsa Doom attire from the Conan movie) to our campsite. Our hike began in the parking lot of a burned out grocery store. We proceeded across a grassland, and we ended up somewhere near Paris. At least, I'd assume it was Paris. In the dream, we all looked through one of those viewfinders you find at scenic vistas, the kind where you put a quarter in to look at trees and stuff for a minute or so. And in the viewfinder, I see the Eiffel Tower. Ergo, I think we were supposed to be playing Survivor in France.

My group was looking for our campsite, which we found via the viewfinder at the bottom of a cliff next to a river.

But we didn't make it, because members of the other tribe came down with some manner of flesh-eating virus. Before my group could set out, guys in bio-suits (which in my dream were copies of the radiation suit Doc Brown and Marty McFly wear when handling the plutonium in Back to the Future) swarm down upon our group and quarantine us.

And, my dream mind made it so that quarantining us means putting us inside one of those enclosed play pits you find at your finer fast food restaurants, you know, the one with the multi-colored plastic balls.

And it was there, sitting in that pit, that the flesh eating virus broke on the members of my group. I don't have a way to explain it, unless you've read the Firestorm comic book where the zombie Martin Stein uses his element powers to sandblast somebody's skin. I don't have a way to describe it other than that, because that's the reference tool my own mind used. Furthermore, that part of the dream wasn't seen motion/moving picture style. It was seen much the same way you would the panels in a comic book....

And then I heard AC/DC's "Who Made Who?" And I remember thinking, in the dream, whether this was a fitting song to have on the soundtrack, and that's when I woke up. The radio was playing, and there I was lying in my bed, struggling and straining to knock the Survivor dream out of my brain.

I got up, and went about my business getting cleaned up and ready for work. I even ate some breakfast. And then I went out onto the carport and looked through the big binocular viewfinder to see my Survivor campsite, at the foot of a cliff, somewhere near the city of Paris, France.

And then the guys in bio-suits swarm.....


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