The Amazing Dr. Funkenstein and the Mind-altering burrito

I'm in my living room. Sitting in the easy chair is my brother Billy. He's holding a black bird in his hands, but it doesn't look right. It looks like it's been rotoscoped on top of a real bird. It has no texture, like it's made out of some unearthly slime.
It's flapping around in my brother's hands. Whatever it is I don't like it.
Then my sister says

- Why don't we show the bird to Bo Jangles? (One of our cats.)

My brother agrees. I don't think it's a good idea. They ignore me and my sister brings the cat over to the bird-thing.
Bo is frightened. She tries to back away but they hold her close to the bird.
The bird raises its wings but instead of having talons underneath, it has arms and paws like a cat. It proceeds to beat on poor Bo. She rives in pain while the bird hits the top of her body like a bongo.
I break up the fight. Bo goes running off.

- Why the hell would you guys do that?

They don't seem as concerned as I am- they seem delighted.

As much as I find The Unconsoled annoying to read, I find it even more likable. Ultimately Ishiguro makes this listless narrative work. And it's not just because I'm in a class about dreams. I do find bizzare, dream-like qualities in everday life to be funny/entertaining. Also, Ishiguro's style makes it smooth and sensible-- I can't describe how.

But aside from all that, I think I like the book most of all because Ishiguro himself is a composite figure with George Takei (Sulu from Star Trek). They're both Japanese men living in a country that's not Japan, speaking English in a houtie-toutie way. (Sulu is funny.) It brings me great pleasure that out there in the world there are two people of the same soul.

Beam me up, Ishiguro!

I just had sex with Laurie Metcalf (from Roseanne) in my bathroom as a sort of 'going away' present. (The details of which were experienced by me, but too explicit to list here). And now I gathered with my family on the porch.

The house was a big, white 'mason,' like the house out of Forest Gump or Cat On A Hot Tin Roof. The front porch looked out onto a swampy lake, stretching as far as the eye could see. I was a fifteen year old boy. There was a storm coming and I was being left behind.

There were these robotic, yellow escape pods lined up on the shore. (They could only hold two at a time.) My two little sisters were ushered into a pod.

- What about John?
- He's lived more than you, my father explained. You still have to live yet.

And so, because they had to live, they were put in the escape pod. I could see them tearfully waving goodbye as the pod closed and whizzed down the lake, out of sight.

Roseanne (who I think was supposed to be my mother) and Laurie Metcalf got into a pod. Laurie smiled at me, half playfully, half seductively, as she got in the pod. They were women-folk and had to be protected. The pod closed and whizzed out of sight.

My father put Nana in the last pod and then came back to talk to me. He looked different, his hair was greyer and he was wearing a mustache. (His appearance reminds me of Sam Eliot.)

- Listen, son, I have to go because I'm the only one who can provide for the family.

(In the context of the dream, Nana's social security checks are also a source of income.)

- I wish there was some way I could take you with me, but I can't. Anyway, you're a man now, after this morning. (I believe he was refering to me banging Laurie Metcalf in the shower.)

- Be brave, son.

He got in the pod and they whiz out of sight. I am left alone, but I'm not angry about it-- at least In had sex before I died.

Lately, because of my obbsession with bizarre dreams for the purpose of this blog, I've been having a little trouble distinguishing bizarre moments in real life from bizarre moments in dreams. Like the other day, my brother suddenly grabbed me and put me in a full nelson. Later I attributed it to a dream, only to realize it was real a few days later. Is anyone else having this experience too?

Download file
"I'm So Tired"
The Beatles
from Beatles Anthology vol 3, disk 1

Play it loud Dreamers, play it loud!

I'm just so freakin' glad we have more than one semester to finish this. Was anyone expecting this when you signed up for this class? I certainly was not. But, I guess this is what we're going to need to do if we want to be sucessful Grad students, or theorists, or writers, or the people who will clean and maintain the robots of the future McDonald's. It's dodable, barely. I'm just glad that Professor Tougaw's been so understanding/helpful with this. And you guys have been great (certainly better than your average classmates).
On the other hand, there's a hell of a lot of work to be done.

...

Play it loud!

Previous to this entry I posted a long, cinematic entry called "Land of the Unending Mist." As long as that entry was, however, it was not the entire dream. What follows is what happened after I came back from "The Land of the Unending Mist."

I was sitting in my living room again. Some time had passed, I'm not sure how much. I'm wearing a light blue, button-down shirt. I'm doing something, like watching TV and eating, when I see a rat rolling along the floor.

I was startled, but not scared. This rat was different. As it rolled along the living room floor I noticed it was light grey, and not black like the last one. It wasn't menacing me, it was trying to lead me somewhere.

I follow it to a Chinese supermarket. We get to the dairy section and the rat turns into my brother. I had told him about my adventures in The Land of the Unending Mist and he decided he wanted to go. And since the portal had closed in our foyer closet, he went out to find one.

He came back to tell us he was going to stay there forever. My parents and I sit him down, intervention style, to confront him about this. We had a conversation. My parents didn't seem upset by his actions at all. He says I can visit him through the dairy freezer in Hong Kong Supermarket, so long as I don't stay over the limit.

- As long as you're visiting your brother you can pick a quart of milk.

I didn't think I was going to like this book, but I did. Ishiguro made this readable with his style. And how fitting is that ending, huh? Nothing happens! Ryder keeps going on and on about how his performance will change the world and nothing comes of it.

For more on my reactions to finishing the book see my next entry.

My dad has just finished watching the movie of The Unconsoled (I was going to lend him the book, but we figured this was easier). He's on the couch watching the TV. I walk into the room and stand next to the table.

Then, we see the monster in The Unconsoled. It's a short tree gnome, with a face like bark and limbs like branches. We realize that the monster is the tulip tree in our backyard, behind represented on TV live.

Suddenly we are in the backyard. It is dark. We're running from where the tree is, towards the house.

We are exhausted, standing back in the living room.

But the monster is in the house.

- Didn't you close the side door?
- Of course I did.

We look over at the side door. My mother is standing next to the open door.

- I thought we could use some air.
- Crap...

As far as media impersonating dreams I think Monty Python's Flying Circus is the closest because of it's loose barriers. Combining both the mundane and the absurd to make humor. Picture this:

A man is mountain climbing grey rock. He's pulling himself up on a single rope, groping the stone's surface for aid. Suddenly his hand slips. But he's okay, he gets his grip back and keeps going. He's actually scaling the side walk on his stomach. A man from the news is standing on the pavement next to him as he slowly crawls along.

Then a man drives by in a car and swipes that newscaster's microphone. They race down a country highway talking about different types of trees.

They drive by a nude pianist. He plays a few chords and smiles. A knight in full armor hits him with a raw chicken.

Two ladies are watching this transpire on the telie. They turn off the set.

- That was awful
- Just dreadful
- It was like being put through a Spanish Inquisition--

Three medieval bishops, dressed in red, leap out of the closet.

- No one suspects The Spanish Inquisition!
- Oh no!
- Oh yes! Our main weapon is suprise, and verbal skills. Our two main weapons are suprise and verbal skills, ... and these red outfits. Damn! Our three main weapons are--

A knight comes in and hits them with a raw chicken.

Cut to a man.
- I'd like to complain about people interupting other people while trying to watch the telie. It's just plain rude--

- I'd like to complain about people complaining about people interupting other people whild trying to watch the telie without mentioning the use of raw poultry, another man says. Seriously, the use of raw food is over the line. Someone could get sick from bacteria--

- I'd like to complain about people complaining about people complaining about people interupting other people whild trying to watch the telie without mentioning the use of raw poultry, a third man says. I mean, you're just being argumentative. I'm sure the person complaining about people interupting other people while watching the telie was just as outraged as you about the inclusion of the raw chicken, and implied that fact in his argument--

A knight hits him with a raw chicken.

I'm sleeping in my bed. It's around 5:30 in the morning. Suddenly my brother's alarm clock buzzes and stops. A spotlight goes off on the other side of my brother's dresser. My sister is standing in the spot. She's wearing a black leotard. She looks like Audrey Hepburn.

The song "Incensce and Peppermint" plays and she begins to dance a groovy dance in the spotlight.

- Go to sleep! I yell.

She turns off the light and I go back to bed.