Archive for the Dreams Category

I’m your Venus (in blurs)

Posted in Books, Dreams, Geeks on April 30, 2012 by Johnnie

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Did you ever have a dream that was so great, you not only woke up annoyed that it wasn’t finished, but sincerely hoped you could pick it up where you left off the following night? And did you then rack your brain trying to remember exactly what made it so great, only to find that it kept draining down the plughole of your memory? Well that was me this morning.

When I say “morning”, it was when I normally get up for work – at a time which, I gather, most people still refer to as “night”. But, for what seemed like the previous few hours, I had been paying a visit to someone whom I knew to be the only human being living on Venus. I didn’t know him personally, I don’t know why I got to go and visit him, and I can’t really remember why I wanted to (I’m pretending it was a journalistic assignment but it was probably curiosity/nosiness), but there I was, anyway.

Venus, I can report, was very dark and scary – hellish, in fact.

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Gothic

Posted in Books, Dreams, Words on September 24, 2010 by Johnnie

O would some Power the gift to give us

To see ourselves as others see us!

It would from many a blunder free us,

And foolish notion:

What airs in dress and gait would leave us,

And even devotion!

Robert Burns

Comedy nightmares

Posted in Dreams on September 19, 2010 by Johnnie

I dreamed that the population was divided into two distinct camps: those who willfully provide Michael McIntyre with a lucrative career, and those who want to continually whack the unfunny, jelly-bellied, smug, self-satisfied, pompous, middle-class, gibbering oaf in the face with a large, heavy-bottomed frying pan.  We won the ensuing battle, of course, then we made Frankie Boyle King.  Continue reading

Where the lost things are

Posted in Dreams on September 8, 2010 by Johnnie

Where is that other dimension?  Surely not everyone falls off a cliff or circles the plughole of life watching Midsomer Murders before fading from view forever?   This other place sounds more exciting.  Not so much a place to disappear, as a more obscure place to stumble into.  I don’t know anything about it but I’ll tell you what I’ve heard.

Someone once told me that if you sharpen a pencil enough, the point becomes so sharp and fine that if you jerk it suddenly, it makes a small slash in this thing we loosely call reality.  What you see through the slit largely depends upon where you are at the time.  But it seems most people who achieve this sharpness can see into a dark place full of lost biro pens, single socks, a few actors from 1970s Coronation Street and several hundred forgotten ‘next big thing’ pop stars. Continue reading

Dark water

Posted in Dreams, Words on August 4, 2010 by Johnnie

“Don’t do it!” we shouted, with our usual mirthful, carefree abandon.

Bob looked up and around at us, a tiny smile appeared at the side of his mouth.  I can’t remember exactly what he said as we passed him by, but it was something to the effect of: “I’m just having a rest.”

The bridge was the halfway point between our office and the bus station.  Our place of work, Centenary House, was the most miserable, sick office in Scotland.  It was practically abandoned, apart from a security guard on the ground floor and a single floor of temporary staff.  The floors above and below us were empty, dead.  Everyone who worked there called the building Cemetery House.

Colvin and I would celebrate leaving the damp, dripping corridors of Cemetery House every day of the week.  We’d cross the Clyde and wander into as many record shops as we could on our way up to the bus station.  We travelled by bus because it was cheaper than the train and more spare cash meant more records.  We gave our mothers money every month and what was left after our travel expenses was our own.  Other than work deadlines and staving off repetitive office brain death strain, we didn’t have any worries in the world.  We naturally assumed no one else did either.

Then, one day, we met Bob on the bridge. Continue reading

The terrifying beauty of the Monopods

Posted in Art, Books, Dreams on July 25, 2010 by Johnnie

I was at primary school when I read John Christopher’s brilliant sci-fi novel The White Mountains and it terrified me.  This was around the time I’d first heard Orson Welles’s The War Of The Worlds broadcast, and a good few years after I’d had my first nightmare about a Dalek invasion of my village, so reading about the alien Tripods’ takeover of earth had quite an effect on me.

Being a youngster of fertile imagination, and desperate to believe in anything supernatural or extraterrestrial, I was awe-struck by the Tripods’ scale and power.  When you’re the sort of child who grows up seeing a Dalek every time you happen across a council-issued dustbin, a lot of stuff nestles in your subconscious, only to leap out at you in your dreams later.  The Tripods never quite left me but it was only recently that I realised this.

On a trip home to my family seat on the Ayrshire coast, after an absence of a couple of years, I caught my first glimpse of our new Monopod masters.  Huge windmills were peeking over the tops of the hills and I was awe-struck all over again. Continue reading