madeupdreams

were packing up everything to move. final load was my clothes, had to pack for a trip and get the clothes from my old warddrobe i’d used as a kid packed up. building inspector came by to close out the permit. there was massive unfinished work, a big gaping hole to the sky and he said something about needing to finish the entire wooden floor section. we were in the basement. and the unfinished area opened up to a big ravine as the house had transformed to being now on a big hillside.

two members of the neighboring morgue were standing on the other side asking when we were going to finish the work since their property touched the structure and they needed it finished. they looked like cartoon billboard people though, somehow matching someone on the house side. maybe the inspector. then the inspector became a realtor or a realtor showed up and asked if our plan was to turn the unfinished portion into a daylight kitchen with a view of the river. the ravine was now a massive river valley looking out on the columbia. he said he knew the owner of one of the steamers down there. then i noticed the room adjacent had a bunch of windows and protruded from the house, it was somehow under a stairwell or hadn’t previously been exposed. I asked if it could be made into a kitchen with a view of the river. walked into the room and it was full of stuff that was old and hadn’t been touched in years.

then realtor asked to look around and started going up a back staircase we’d never used. it was a spiral and led to a sitting room that hadn’t been touched since the prior owners. filled with really old stuff. i was afraid that the inspector or realtor would find out that someone had been cooking meth in the house, but this was a weird fragment from an earlier dream and had something to do with why we had to move. from sitting room we took another staircase that opened to a huge wood floored massive ballroom. inlaid patterns in the wood, wood paneling, all very ornate. i thought what a perfect room it would be for the kids to run around and ride bikes in and couldn’t figure out why we’d never used it. the house kept unfolding and expanding. didn’t realize it during the dream but it was very much like Little Big by John Crowley in some regards.

the whole family then showed up and we were out on the room looking at the bald eagles in their nests just outside the house overlooking the river. from there we went into another room that was like an old breakfast nook or hallway with a table. everything was old and untouched like a grandparent’s forgotten home, locked up for years. J was laughing hysterically to the point of being really scary and absurd at the same time. J2 didn’t want CG to see into the room next to it through the glass pane door. it was full of  signs and paintings. he said something about ‘for your eyes’ only.

then we went back into the big wooden ballroom and i heard the sound of running water and realized that in the hallway leading off of it there were two massive mosaic waterfalls on the wall with ornate inlaid tile work all built into the walls. i remember thinking the house would have been worth at least 1M if we put a few thousand into it and realtor saying how it would be worth much much more than that. everything seemed so antique and in such great shape, clean, cared for, but forgotten and somehow closed off.

then the police arrived, rekindling fears of being discovered. what had been my dad morphed into some movie character who very smoothly dealt with the cops quickly putting them at ease by being respectful and jovial at same time. he gave details about the school district the house was in proving that we owned it. he was dressed in camo and wearing a red elmer fudd hat with white fur like santa clause style. then someone ran off, it was Kona and the guy in the elmer fudd hat started shooting. everything had become totally cartoon at that point. he shot someone trying to open the door to a small house next door stopping them from going in because there was a smashed cartoon raccoon behind the front door from someone slamming the door open as they broke in. then the camera panned over to a window into the garage where a guy holding a flashlight wrapped in black tape was waiting and said ‘i hope dad doesn’t know i used his grip/gaff/camera tape.

wake up

The dream starts out with Don Draper (Jon Hamm) of “Mad Men” donning a ridiculous polyester 70′s leisure suit. He announces to the whole office that he is going to run for “President of Sterling-Cooper”. Most people congratulate him, but some are visibly aggitated. Don says something to the extent “Those who are for me…good. Those who are against me better get out of here now”. Don leaves to a private room, while people celebrate the big announcement. All of a sudden three ninjas decked out in black sniper gear start slaughtering people until there are only a few left. There is no sign of Don. The few people that are left alive (other than all the ninjas) are Leonardo DiCaprio (bald), Cillian Murphy (Irish guy from “Inception” that seems English, also plays “the Scarecrow”), Pete Campbell of “Mad Men” (Vincent Kartheiser), and a few others. The ninjas spit black pea-sized darts out of their mouths that puts them all to sleep…or so it seems. Apparently, everybody has ninja skills because Leonardo has caught the dart in his mouth and spits it back at a ninja, Pete Campbell does the same. There is fighting amongst them until only Pete Campbell is left. He drags Cillian out the door. Just as they get out the door a ninja grabs Campbell, Cillian regains consciousness and escapes as the sole survivor. There is an implication that the whole office caught fire and everyone died (no scene for this, just general dream knowledge).

Cut to Don Draper walking into a penthouse hotel suite. Jesse (Aaron Paul) of “Breaking Bad” (also bald) gets startled by him and starts freaking out (like his character in BB does). He’s asking Don questions about if he was being followed or if he secured the door.

In the distance I hear noises like knives being unsheathed. All of a sudden I see white boots rushing down a spiral set of stairs (could they be white ninjas?). Then I see knives flying through the air, they slice up onions and lettuce in midair. The veggies land perfectly on bread laid out on the counter (kind of Benihana style). In the end the knives are embedded into a big wooden cutting board. It turns out the white ninjas were really just good cooks, ninja-good cooks. End Scene.

Dreamer’s note: This was a vivid dream with some good action scenes. It kept me interested like a good movie would. I would definitely be interested in seeing more of this dream, the actors did a great job and I’d like to see where they go with it. There are so many questions, like: Is Leo dead?!?

“I have a dreamsicle”

- old pedophilistian proverb

Sean Davis

A hundred years in the future the days are consistently overcast and the nights are filled with police and ambulance sirens. The Western Financial system collapses and in this time of great confusion many prosper. All the regulatory policies and laws including ethics in genome cloning, fertilization, and test tube life are ignored. The cut throat capitalism of the Chinese spread and great money is made. The distance between the rich and the uber-rich spans, the poor are kept right above the poverty line to pay taxes.

Giant conglomerates take to creating their mascots in laboratories. Ronald McDonald is a live organism from a human sperm and human egg with the genome altered. He will have red hair, his skin will be white as purgatory, his feet fit in his clown shoes. Grimace will be four-hundred pounds, purple, and furry. Mr. Peanut can be modified to look and smell like a peanut. The most notable and famous of all these mascots is Genentech’s bio-pharmacuetical mascot Mr. Happy. He stands five-foot-four with a tight, tiny, yet powerful frame to hold up his giant cherub-like face, the cherub-like face that always displays a hyperbolic and exaggerated smile.

Multiple stories break: the corporate bonuses, lack of accountability for entire civilizations ruined, and unparalleled raping of the Earth and our natural resources. The public outcry is heard completely around our critically injured world. A new world government usurps the old with a new leader: a half-black, half-Native American, lesbian single mother is put in the Glasshouse: the world’s new transparent government headquarters. The Artificial Beings Created for Fiduciary Gains Freedom and Relocation Act is not among one of the first bills signed into law but is one of the most important. The ABCFGRA (House Bill 59a32b) is seen by many as the last rung in our historical ladder of civil rights. We can go no further in giving civil rights to human beings or human being-like beings. A mural will be painted on the inside of the Glasshouse showing rights being given to women, blacks, gays, clones, animals with human status (such as dolphins and guide dogs), and finally to Mr. Happy and his like.

This was a grand idea, but like many grand ideas the practical side had not been thought out. Giving the Kool Aid man the right to vote is a no brainer, but who in their right mind would want him touching or spilling his sickening sweet internal juices all over their child? The mascots (2,103 of them) were housed in an undisclosed military base until something could be figured out. One day, unbeknownst to the public, a military general correctly assumed that since these non-humans were created in a lab and not born the natural way this meant they had no soul. He tested this out by flying the Stanley Steemer Vacuum-man, The Wendy’s Girl, and Mr. Happy to Guantanamo Bay to run psychological tests. In days these three were well on their way to becoming the military’s most efficient, deadly, and esoteric assassination squad in history. All of the Mascots were trained and of course some did not survive the training process (Sugar Pops bear ironical died due to complications with diabetest, the Frito Bandito showed great promise, maybe he would have beat out Mr. Happy for the top of the class but unfortunately he suffered and then died in a Claymore training accident with the ever jittery Noid).

Linda Hamilton (who looks nothing like the Linda Hamilton you think you know) hardly slept at all. She was one of those types that would rather work and she worked a lot. She had the bright idea in her brain that she could somehow help out all of the mutated and disfigured refugees created in the time of the great confusion after the fall of the Western Financial institutions. Millions of people were killed, radiated, made to drink bad water, or starved due to the big conglomerates drive to make money in the third world countries that the exist today (still a hundred years in the future) by mixing her chemicals, creating new molecule stabilizers, and modifying a virus that would rearrange a sick or crippled person’s DNA. She hardly slept at all, but this night she was sleeping in her one bedroom Condo on the 32nd floor in downtown Portland, Oregon. Her Condo was scarcely furnished: a bed, a dresser, a hemp couch, a bamboo table with three matching chairs in the kitchen. Mr. Happy had to drag one of the matching chairs into Linda’s room to watch her sleep. He sat there with the semi-automatic 9mm glock in his lap; almost lost in the folds of his trench coat. The oversized hat with its oversized brim covered most of his childish face only showing the toothy smile that ten years ago meant higher sales of viagra and other sexual organ stimulating drugs, but a smile that since then meant the end of an otherwise decent enough life.

to be continued…. (if I dream more about it).

I had the 1st dress rehearsal to this dream over a month ago. I am in a play that is a big high school production. I am not in high school and that fact is obvious to the whole production, though nobody makes any mention of it. I play a character named “Danny” (I keep telling myself to play it like Crispin Glover in “Back to the Future”). I’m mostly going over lines with two other characters (is one my acting friend from class? I think so…). I am never given the script, they ran out last time and it was up to me to find one after the 1st rehearsal. Of course, the play is very cheesy, yet its a big production. At one point there are over 50 people on stage and there is a sequence where orange ninjas/samurais fight blue ninjas/samurais. Extremely well choreographed fighting/dancing.

Much like in the dream, I can’t remember my lines now. Something like “when will he get here?”, but there are many more lines I that I don’t know. My part doesn’t seem big or important but the production stops when it gets to my line for a ridiculously long time. It is me that gets annoyed and I pipe up to say “you think this is my line?”. In which the director realizes that that is the case and feeds me my line word for word. This goes on and on throughout the dream, I seem to be the only one annoyed by this.

Dreamers note: I feel anxiety now similar to the anxiety I felt in the dream by not remembering my lines. In the dream I felt I should have remembered them from the 1st rehearsal but didn’t. I feel I should have remembered the lines from the dream because it feels like just minutes ago, yet I don’t.

Night Writer
-a shadowy flight into the dangerous mind of a world that does not exist.

Hello and welcome. We are setting this up as a way to capture and share the crazy shit that fills our sleeping lives. It’s meant to be a group dream journal. We’ve all known each other for years and probably know a great deal about each other’s lives but how often do you hear about something from a dream? The lyrics say ‘no one wants to hear what you dreamt about unless you dreamt about them’ which is probably true most of the time but not here. 

Dream. Write. Comment. Build ideas.

“I’m a painter in my dreams, you know.” 
— Kurt Vonnegut (God Bless You, Mr. Rosewater

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