26.6.13

typing, typing, typing...


one time i had a dream that i had to keep typing and typing.

it was after midnight and i was still typing. the fan was spinning and the frogs were peeping. the moon was shining on the rocks. my eyes were weary and the pages were flapping around. it didn't matter what i wrote, as long as i continued typing. i wanted to turn out the light and go to bed, but something held me captive and i couldn't escape, even though i had to get up early.

the little letters started to dance on the page. they were like miniature sylphs leaping on the paper. they turned with the curves of the font. when i awoke the next morning and read what i had wrote, it was all gibberish in asterisks and quotation marks.  

finally, around two in the morning, it was finished. everything was silent. i brushed my teeth and went to bed.

16.6.13

dance


one time i had a dream that we met before the thunderstorm while the moon was waxing gibbous. 

it was in the meadow by the mountain monastery.

8.6.13

who's walking who?


one time i had a dream that bubbles was watching a moronic sitcom called who's walking who? it was about two college students, langley and amber, that had a dog walking business, called "pooch movers" in denver, colorado.

it was a rainy saturday afternoon. bubbles was in the library swimming around in his bowl. i walked in and caught him watching this show. i asked him why he was filling his mind with this kind of trash when there were all of these great books around him.

bubbles said that he found it strangely entertaining. he said that he was going to turn on the interdimensional television, but decided to flip around the channels on regular tv before he made the switch. as he was doing so, who's walking who? caught his eye. it was very low budget, strictly one camera and no studio audience (the laughs were created by showing the episode to a large room full of people and recording their reactions), but he enjoyed it. at first he thought it might contain some interesting ideas. it didn't. it was completely mediocre. it was filled with stock characters, predictably dull plots, and very corny jokes.

in the episode that bubbles was watching, langley had been out walking three dogs, when rover -an irish setter- took off after a rabbit into the park. langely chased after him. rover followed the rabbit into a patch of poison ivy (i asked bubbles if they even have poison ivy in denver. he said he wasn't sure). all of this action took place off screen and was implied in the dialogue. what they did show was langley with a severe case of poison ivy. it was so bad she had to expose as much skin as possible to the air, so she spent the whole episode in a bathing suit.

i mentioned to bubbles this was just an excuse to show off the body of an attractive young lady in an exploitative manner. bubbles told me that i was too accustomed to the expectations of the masculine gaze.

in fact, bubbles claimed, he was challenging the orthodoxies of gender performance through his understanding of evolutionary ecology. the most important thing about the show is that no animals were harmed in the making of it. the supposition of dominance in my argument was, of course, expected as it has become a normative mode of description bordering on reification. however, the attuning of the feminine with the triumphal potency of nature imbued the narrative with a teleological integrity.

isn't this still creepily voyeuristic? i asked bubbles. you're sitting in the library in a private mode with the further distance and protection afforded by your fishbowl and watching the bare flesh of a young woman. how can you deny the imbalance of parity?

bubbles reminded me that he was merely watching the images of the actress portraying langley in the show not the actual person. secondly, he drew my attention to the pustules and rashes on her skin. although it was depicted with reddish make up, the intention was to signify that there is a painfulness associated with the rawness of uncovered primordial truth.

- so, then you're suggesting that there is an original and immutable set of axiomatically articulated verities, or verity, that trumps the reality of class generated values, understandings, and perspectives? i asked. isn't this essentialist?

bubbles said that it superficially might appear so, and admitted this was a problematic aspect of his progressive nature. however, by making an argument entrenched in the authoritative independence of radical muliebrity and the vigor of self-assertive maidenhood, his propositions were fundamentally revolutionary -or at least at sufficiently at odds with the bourgeois homosocial superstructure - to pass.

anyway, bubbles said, he mainly liked watching the theatrical dogs on the show. he said he felt a kinship with his fellow animal performers. they were really good at sight gags.

the oldest man alive


one time i had a dream that the oldest man alive told me the secret to his longevity.

he was very creaky and walked with a shuffle. he revealed to me that the key to his long life was to keep himself immersed in the flavour of butterscotch.

he gave me a dime, too.