In post-apocalyptia, I and a few friends (one male and one female, I think), had just returned to our apartment. We were arguing about what to do with our paper money (probably because it wasn't currently worth anything). The guy was trying to show how we could use the paper money to make our rides more aerodynamic.
(Our rides were little battery-powered boxes on wheels, perhaps two feet cubed, barely big enough for our butts to rest on. He unlatched the top of his, and was folding the edge of a multi-dollar bill and slipping it in and over the battery to demonstrate what he meant.)
We then did some mental exercise, imagining what to do in case of a zombie attack. In our imagination, a woman was walking down a sidewalk while fending off a not-so-clever male zombie who had been bitten in the arm.
Our apartment building was surprisingly well-maintained, and well lit by daylight, though completely empty of furniture. It looked like a building that had just barely finished being constructed before the apocalypse.
I was sitting in the hallway outside our apartment, with a young girl (maybe 10 years old) sitting next to me. Our neighbors, a young Spanish-speaking couple (and possibly a child), walked by us in the hallway on their way out somewhere.
The wife chatted a little with us in pseudo-Spanish about the zombie; I was mentioning how the zombie had been bitten in the arm but I couldn't quite work out the phrasing. She said something like "ha estado [verb]ado en el armada". The world "voller" was in there somewhere too.
The girl next to me was looking up words on a handheld digital dictionary device, but wasn't sure if she was spelling them right. I was a little suspicious of "armada" meaning "arm". We couldn't work out what "voller" was.
At some point, the girl changed (imperceptibly) into Joan D (adult), and we were eating oreos. She was mentioning how it was interesting that the words "dedo" in Spanish and "doigt" in French (both meaning "finger") looked so similar. So I said, oh, yeah, well, "digitus" -- pointing out that another word for "finger" in English was "digit", and all three words came from Latin.
Joan looked astonished, and told me what a rush she felt when she figured out stuff like that. :D And then we ate more oreos.
(But I wanted to save a few oreos for Ray, who apparently had furnished them for us.)
Showing posts with label strange gadgets. Show all posts
Showing posts with label strange gadgets. Show all posts
Saturday, June 30, 2012
Monday, May 28, 2012
Aliens kindly request split-screen TV
Aliens had just recently made first contact with Earth. An ambassador of theirs (who looks like a human guy to me) meets me in a little downtown, which (in hindsight) seemed oddly isolated from any nearby urban area, like a single curving street of modern two- or three-story brick storefronts surrounded by grass and hills and highway.
He walks me towards a store window, mentioning that now that we'd made contact, we would definitely have to change our TV broadcasts to be split screen (one above the other), with subtitles in both languages.
He simulated such a split screen broadcast on a TV in the store window, using whatever had been playing before (a balding Italian-looking sophisticate sitting in a red velvety room, talking towards someone off camera). The subtitles on top were English, and the ones on bottom certainly appeared to be Italian, not Alienese.
He then ushered me into his sensible sedan, and we drove back the way we came, then around to the right onto a downhill entrance ramp to the highway. (I also noticed a high bridge nearby crossing over the highway.)
However, traffic was backed up, so he cut off the road onto the grass and snuck down towards the highway. I keenly noticed that the ride wasn't bumpy whatsoever. Amazing suspension on this car. Alien technology, I suppose. We somehow drove up over a guard rail and onto the highway.
(Another example of how I rarely seem to experience tactile "bumping" sensations in dreams; though, as it turns out, I do sometimes feel textures, so tactile sense isn't completely missing.)
He walks me towards a store window, mentioning that now that we'd made contact, we would definitely have to change our TV broadcasts to be split screen (one above the other), with subtitles in both languages.
He simulated such a split screen broadcast on a TV in the store window, using whatever had been playing before (a balding Italian-looking sophisticate sitting in a red velvety room, talking towards someone off camera). The subtitles on top were English, and the ones on bottom certainly appeared to be Italian, not Alienese.
He then ushered me into his sensible sedan, and we drove back the way we came, then around to the right onto a downhill entrance ramp to the highway. (I also noticed a high bridge nearby crossing over the highway.)
However, traffic was backed up, so he cut off the road onto the grass and snuck down towards the highway. I keenly noticed that the ride wasn't bumpy whatsoever. Amazing suspension on this car. Alien technology, I suppose. We somehow drove up over a guard rail and onto the highway.
(Another example of how I rarely seem to experience tactile "bumping" sensations in dreams; though, as it turns out, I do sometimes feel textures, so tactile sense isn't completely missing.)
Thursday, November 17, 2011
Flickbox™ music box
I was on what appeared to be a Homecoming trip with Priss and Colin. Priss had been driving us around and we had now returned to wherever we are staying. It seems too fancy and homelike to be a hotel, but I can't quite figure out what it was supposed to be.
Colin and I were sharing a room, and he was just coming out of the shower (in the bathroom attached to the bedroom). I was sitting on or up against the footboard of the bed (actually, my back was up against a very thick column, wider than my body), near the bathroom door, and glancing away for good measure, in case Colin were to come out naked. When he stepped into the bedroom, he jerked back in surprise, but he was wearing a towel.
I then found a wooden box in the room, maybe the size of a breadbox, made of light blond, unpolished wood, and unadorned except for four or five lengthwise rows of nails embedded in the top. If you flick one of the nails, it somehow causes the box to resonate the sound of a voice singing a syllable of a word from a song, plus one piece of percussion -- as if the part of the box below that nail were shaped in such a perfect way as to reshape the sound of the flick into this complex sound.
I started with the last row, in which the words were accompanied by a closed hi-hat cymbal. The song it was playing sounded like a version of Mad Tom of Bedlam sung by Jolie Holland. I went and started at the first row, flicking each nail in the right rhythm, and listening to the song.
This box had to be really old, I thought, and the sounds coming from it were produced in some super-complex organic process without the benefit digital recording and reproduction. I wonder if this art had been lost to time. In any case, I'm keeping this.
Colin and I were sharing a room, and he was just coming out of the shower (in the bathroom attached to the bedroom). I was sitting on or up against the footboard of the bed (actually, my back was up against a very thick column, wider than my body), near the bathroom door, and glancing away for good measure, in case Colin were to come out naked. When he stepped into the bedroom, he jerked back in surprise, but he was wearing a towel.
I then found a wooden box in the room, maybe the size of a breadbox, made of light blond, unpolished wood, and unadorned except for four or five lengthwise rows of nails embedded in the top. If you flick one of the nails, it somehow causes the box to resonate the sound of a voice singing a syllable of a word from a song, plus one piece of percussion -- as if the part of the box below that nail were shaped in such a perfect way as to reshape the sound of the flick into this complex sound.
I started with the last row, in which the words were accompanied by a closed hi-hat cymbal. The song it was playing sounded like a version of Mad Tom of Bedlam sung by Jolie Holland. I went and started at the first row, flicking each nail in the right rhythm, and listening to the song.
This box had to be really old, I thought, and the sounds coming from it were produced in some super-complex organic process without the benefit digital recording and reproduction. I wonder if this art had been lost to time. In any case, I'm keeping this.
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Forest-office-Charlie-Maura-drum squares
I was working at a desk, except the office visible in front of me seemed to be more of a forest than an office (not that it seemed odd at the time). To my right, sitting on my desk, was a small, vertical mirror on a stand, and every 10-20 seconds or so I would take a moist cloth and wipe it down. Lee W came by my desk and got me to admit that it was a little obsessive to wipe the mirror so often.
I explained to Lee that something was bothering me about the coworker to my right (who was apparently Charlie Sheen), though I couldn't quite put my finger on it, so I kept glancing over at him, and then wiping the mirror to make it look like that was why I was looking to the right.
Meanwhile, another male coworker came by and Lee held out a very tall styrofoam cup and said to the coworker, "Could you get me a mug?" At first the coworker wasn't sure if Lee wanted him to go bring him a mug, but then he figured out Lee wanted to get his styrofoam cup refilled with coffee (from what looked more like a soda fountain than a coffee brewer).
To my left was another coworker, who happened to be Maura. The details evade me at this point, but somehow there was a drum beat playing (with brushes), sort of a swing rhythm, and, of all things, the snare beat had a brush coming down on top of each of our heads. We weren't particularly bothered, as it was apparently part of usual work.
By the way, in visualizing this dream, the office seemed more like a vertically stacked 9x9 square (reminiscent of Hollywood Squares, but in an office/forest setting), with me at the bottom center, Charlie to the right, Maura to the left, the other coworker possibly in the square above me. And for the most part people were facing out of the square towards the viewer.
I explained to Lee that something was bothering me about the coworker to my right (who was apparently Charlie Sheen), though I couldn't quite put my finger on it, so I kept glancing over at him, and then wiping the mirror to make it look like that was why I was looking to the right.
Meanwhile, another male coworker came by and Lee held out a very tall styrofoam cup and said to the coworker, "Could you get me a mug?" At first the coworker wasn't sure if Lee wanted him to go bring him a mug, but then he figured out Lee wanted to get his styrofoam cup refilled with coffee (from what looked more like a soda fountain than a coffee brewer).
To my left was another coworker, who happened to be Maura. The details evade me at this point, but somehow there was a drum beat playing (with brushes), sort of a swing rhythm, and, of all things, the snare beat had a brush coming down on top of each of our heads. We weren't particularly bothered, as it was apparently part of usual work.
By the way, in visualizing this dream, the office seemed more like a vertically stacked 9x9 square (reminiscent of Hollywood Squares, but in an office/forest setting), with me at the bottom center, Charlie to the right, Maura to the left, the other coworker possibly in the square above me. And for the most part people were facing out of the square towards the viewer.
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Strange drum set
I was attending some concert (can't recall whether or not I played in the first act). When the second act came on, I noticed that there wasn't much to it, a very minimal setup, and, notably, no percussion. I offered to play drums and walked out into the hallways (sort of like a school building's hallways) and found my drum set in the hall. I sat down to look at it and tinker a bit. First, I noticed that there were no crash or ride cymbals, and the hi-hats' cymbals had been replaced by thick, gray cafeteria trays, which, while they made a metallic sound when I hit them, were much too quiet. I then noticed that my normal hi-hats were also present, on a second stand behind that.
Heart vs. Heart, and a "brisk" visit to the library
I was down in some utility area, in a longish cramped hallway, one whole side of which was little alcove after alcove. In the first alcove, I saw a technician hooking a guy up with a curious device. It was a thick cable with a connector at the end -- the connector was round, like a midi connector, but it was the size of one's fist and had maybe thirty prongs in it. The technician somehow plugged it straight into the guy's heart. The point was that the other end was connected to someone else's heart, and depending on who was more prepared, more focused, had more control over their body, their heart's beating would disrupt the other person's heart, causing them to die.
The original guy who was getting hooked up was apparently a master at this, and he went from alcove to alcove, hooking up and "winning" each round. I declined an opportunity to try it out. Anyway, dad and I needed to stop by the library on the way to work and return the third Twilight book, which I had read 3/4 of the way through but had lost the will to finish it.
We got to the library (very much like Potomac Branch), walked through the parking lot and went inside. Halfway to the circulation desk, I noticed (and so did some others, I'm guessing) that I wasn't wearing any clothes. I considered the situation. Obviously it hadn't bothered me up to that point, but I thought I might get kicked out of the library for violating their policies. However, nobody else complained, so I carried on, dropped off the book, and walked out.
The original guy who was getting hooked up was apparently a master at this, and he went from alcove to alcove, hooking up and "winning" each round. I declined an opportunity to try it out. Anyway, dad and I needed to stop by the library on the way to work and return the third Twilight book, which I had read 3/4 of the way through but had lost the will to finish it.
We got to the library (very much like Potomac Branch), walked through the parking lot and went inside. Halfway to the circulation desk, I noticed (and so did some others, I'm guessing) that I wasn't wearing any clothes. I considered the situation. Obviously it hadn't bothered me up to that point, but I thought I might get kicked out of the library for violating their policies. However, nobody else complained, so I carried on, dropped off the book, and walked out.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
The bathroom aquarium access terminal
So I'm in this bathroom, which is more or less the same layout as the upstairs hallway bathroom at the Cantilever house, but slightly roomier. But the bathroom is linked to an aquarium-like facility a few floors below (I'm picturing a big, tall, open first floor of a skyscraper, with fancy shale floors and an artificial river flowing through the middle).
The bathroom mirror has sort of a computer interface to it, where I can select a species of fish and then I can examine it. So, after selecting a species, I flush the toilet, and up it comes, into the toilet bowl. It's a medium sized gray fish, maybe half the length of my forearm. I go back to the mirror and select another species, then flush the toilet again. The original fish goes away (presumably back to the aquarium). Nothing new takes its place, though.
But when I flush the toilet again, two slightly smaller gray fish appear in the toilet bowl. These ones like to jump, and one of them ends up on the floor, so I decide to transfer them to the bathtub. I have to use a towel to grab them since they're slippery. Even after I get them in the tub, one of them jumps out on the floor again. I put it back in and close the shower door.
They're still trying to get out, and when I look closely at one of them, resting on the lip of the tub up against the door, I notice that its fins are at the ends of really short proto-arms and legs, with just barely noticeable knees/elbows. I go back to the mirror interface, intending to look up coelacanths so I could compare their structure, but I guess I woke up.
The bathroom mirror has sort of a computer interface to it, where I can select a species of fish and then I can examine it. So, after selecting a species, I flush the toilet, and up it comes, into the toilet bowl. It's a medium sized gray fish, maybe half the length of my forearm. I go back to the mirror and select another species, then flush the toilet again. The original fish goes away (presumably back to the aquarium). Nothing new takes its place, though.
But when I flush the toilet again, two slightly smaller gray fish appear in the toilet bowl. These ones like to jump, and one of them ends up on the floor, so I decide to transfer them to the bathtub. I have to use a towel to grab them since they're slippery. Even after I get them in the tub, one of them jumps out on the floor again. I put it back in and close the shower door.
They're still trying to get out, and when I look closely at one of them, resting on the lip of the tub up against the door, I notice that its fins are at the ends of really short proto-arms and legs, with just barely noticeable knees/elbows. I go back to the mirror interface, intending to look up coelacanths so I could compare their structure, but I guess I woke up.
Friday, September 9, 2011
Scenic train ride to the east
Preparing to take a train back east with a bunch of townspeople. Everyone made sure to collect all their belongings and bring them to the train. For me, this included my bike, bike rack, bike lock, bedclothes, hoodie, half-eaten granola bar, backpack, suitcase, etc.
The train conductor noted that our one guard in town was the only guy with a gun and so anyone who wanted to board the train better be on the guard's good side. The guard was flattered and half-chuckled. I was standing near the guard when that was said, so I gave him a little salute.
The train set out -- source was maybe somewhere around Colorado or Wyoming; the route would take us directly east via the Black Hills of South Dakota. Looking out the window, we saw plenty of interesting scenery (and surprisingly little wilderness). The first thing I noted were the giant dandelions which I had first seen in real life in Colorado. At that time, I had only seen the seed stage, but in the dream, I saw some of the flowers too, and they did bear some vague resemblance to dandelions; bigger, less vibrant yellow, more droopy -- but maybe they were dying off.
I got hungry and dug into my suitcase, finding a peanut butter and jelly sandwich whose two halves were, in some ineffable way, shaped like two chicken fingers. Ate it.
Next, we passed through a hilly area, where these very small clouds were floating, quite close to us, and not far from the ground, ranging from eye level to maybe 50 feet up. There were a lot of them, and as close as they were, they zoomed by as quickly as the train zoomed along. I spotted a fleeting space between a group of clouds that looked like China, and I mentioned it. Mom mentioned she saw one that looked like Ireland, but when I looked up to see it, it had already passed. I went and got my Nikon camera to take pictures of the clouds, but by the time I was ready, they had all passed.
My camera had a little glitch, and I had to remove the battery and put it back in to get it running again. It wasn't a simple operation, as there were a few buttons (all of which appeared to be power buttons) to be pressed and a bottom panel that slid up out of the way. When I touched the battery it was kinda hot.. Anyway, I got the camera on again and fiddled with it, when suddenly a magnificent towery-castly-cathedraly thingy whizzed by on the left (with other, less impressive development on either side of it...). I was on the right side of the train so I wouldn't be able to get a very good shot. But I decided to go for it, so, with camera in hand, I leaned backwards and to the side and hit the button. I didn't hear a click, so I figured it hadn't worked, but when I looked at the review screen, I had taken a surprisingly nice picture of the lower half of it.
I wondered how it had worked if the shutter hadn't clicked. I turned it around and took a close picture of my eye, but that time the shutter worked. I was confused. Mentioned it to Greg and Neil, sitting in the seats behind me.
The train conductor noted that our one guard in town was the only guy with a gun and so anyone who wanted to board the train better be on the guard's good side. The guard was flattered and half-chuckled. I was standing near the guard when that was said, so I gave him a little salute.
The train set out -- source was maybe somewhere around Colorado or Wyoming; the route would take us directly east via the Black Hills of South Dakota. Looking out the window, we saw plenty of interesting scenery (and surprisingly little wilderness). The first thing I noted were the giant dandelions which I had first seen in real life in Colorado. At that time, I had only seen the seed stage, but in the dream, I saw some of the flowers too, and they did bear some vague resemblance to dandelions; bigger, less vibrant yellow, more droopy -- but maybe they were dying off.
I got hungry and dug into my suitcase, finding a peanut butter and jelly sandwich whose two halves were, in some ineffable way, shaped like two chicken fingers. Ate it.
Next, we passed through a hilly area, where these very small clouds were floating, quite close to us, and not far from the ground, ranging from eye level to maybe 50 feet up. There were a lot of them, and as close as they were, they zoomed by as quickly as the train zoomed along. I spotted a fleeting space between a group of clouds that looked like China, and I mentioned it. Mom mentioned she saw one that looked like Ireland, but when I looked up to see it, it had already passed. I went and got my Nikon camera to take pictures of the clouds, but by the time I was ready, they had all passed.
My camera had a little glitch, and I had to remove the battery and put it back in to get it running again. It wasn't a simple operation, as there were a few buttons (all of which appeared to be power buttons) to be pressed and a bottom panel that slid up out of the way. When I touched the battery it was kinda hot.. Anyway, I got the camera on again and fiddled with it, when suddenly a magnificent towery-castly-cathedraly thingy whizzed by on the left (with other, less impressive development on either side of it...). I was on the right side of the train so I wouldn't be able to get a very good shot. But I decided to go for it, so, with camera in hand, I leaned backwards and to the side and hit the button. I didn't hear a click, so I figured it hadn't worked, but when I looked at the review screen, I had taken a surprisingly nice picture of the lower half of it.
I wondered how it had worked if the shutter hadn't clicked. I turned it around and took a close picture of my eye, but that time the shutter worked. I was confused. Mentioned it to Greg and Neil, sitting in the seats behind me.
Tuesday, January 7, 2003
Beth's holey driveway; our new weird pool table
Extremely foggy rollercoaster/suspension bridge. We go off the track before a big rise. Pity. I come up to a driveway as Beth F is swerving a large van into it. It tips and falls sideways (driverside up) into a van-sized hole at the base of the driveway. I'm acting somewhat romantic as I offer a hand to help her out of the van. This van may be the same van that appeared earlier in the dream, after I was being sought following my great help in an investigation.
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Me and dad at home. I am setting up a new pool table in front of the back doors in the family room. I notice that on one of the sides the corner pocket is offset about 4 or 5 inches to the right and the side pocket is too. I remove a few top layers and see that the holes have different possible preset positions. Interesting.
Friday, May 3, 2002
Rebecca at IHOP; weird games
Rebecca M and her mother (who I hadn't met in real life — in the dream she seemed kind of mean) sitting on a curb at a parking lot of IHOP or some other chain restaurant like that. Rebecca changed into Stephanie B.
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I was watching the progress of a weird game, the goal of which was to land a spotted egg in cup-shaped top of a tower. It seemed like something out of The Flintstones.-
Addictive toys — names: "view cube", "unending meshed dog" (? — turning cubes; one in the middle of the bottom had a chain coming out). Strange computer keyboard (multiples of certain letters; "L" key was hard to find compared to others), given by Greg, it seems.
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