journey into the subconscious from within the subconscious
I was in a kind of Apocalypse Now or MASH style war unit, and I guess I was the Hawkeye, the fearless poet type. This also had a lot of Dead Man in it. The chaplain was trying to reason with me about some task I was supposed to perform and in MASH style absurdity I was using circular logic to get others to do it for me while I relaxed. The chaplain said, "If I do that for you, I'm no better than Corporal Klinger," and I said, "No no, at least you're not driving me around everywhere."
Jump cut (yeah, my dream had jump cuts!) to the chaplain driving me around. I laid on my back as we drove up the hill from camp to camp. I had freshly emptied ice cube trays and if I held them at the right angle, letting the blaring sun into the inside of the tray, the slivers of ice still in each cup would melt and trickle down onto my face like ice cold rain, one cup at a time. This struck me as some kind of beautiful poetic thing to be doing in the middle of war.
We drove on a road overlooking a low river where we'd bussed in thousands of arab women on red school buses. These women had crafted burkas (is that the right name?) from bland blue prison garb, but were now cooling off by traipsing through the low river and somberly playing, burka and all. I made some snarky comment about this scene but I forget what.
I was also in charge of improving the audio to go with some video file so the generals could watch it on DVD. It was something like the WIPs I work on at Laika, just work-in-progresses of whatever our department was making at the time. I was trying to farm out the job to Isaac, who needed more time than I could give him and said I'd have to find a way to drive it over to him (I'm unclear if this was tangential to the being-in-an-army-camp part of the dream and I'd be driving it to his house or if I'd be driving it to his campsite), so instead I got Pat, who could do it faster and with less trouble. I think we picked Pat up on our jeep trip and drove with him for a while. He was the Trapper John to my Hawkeye Pierce.
When we got to our base to do the work, the floor was at a thirty degree slant at least, and we both joked for a long time about how hard it was to stand upright, how we had to "bow-stand" all the time. It was all very deadpan hilarious at the moment, in the dream.
I wish I remembered more. Most of the best parts were during the leisurely drive up to the slanted camp, moments like the ice cube trays that were just simple pleasures in the middle of madness. But that's all I can remember now.
Jump cut (yeah, my dream had jump cuts!) to the chaplain driving me around. I laid on my back as we drove up the hill from camp to camp. I had freshly emptied ice cube trays and if I held them at the right angle, letting the blaring sun into the inside of the tray, the slivers of ice still in each cup would melt and trickle down onto my face like ice cold rain, one cup at a time. This struck me as some kind of beautiful poetic thing to be doing in the middle of war.
We drove on a road overlooking a low river where we'd bussed in thousands of arab women on red school buses. These women had crafted burkas (is that the right name?) from bland blue prison garb, but were now cooling off by traipsing through the low river and somberly playing, burka and all. I made some snarky comment about this scene but I forget what.
I was also in charge of improving the audio to go with some video file so the generals could watch it on DVD. It was something like the WIPs I work on at Laika, just work-in-progresses of whatever our department was making at the time. I was trying to farm out the job to Isaac, who needed more time than I could give him and said I'd have to find a way to drive it over to him (I'm unclear if this was tangential to the being-in-an-army-camp part of the dream and I'd be driving it to his house or if I'd be driving it to his campsite), so instead I got Pat, who could do it faster and with less trouble. I think we picked Pat up on our jeep trip and drove with him for a while. He was the Trapper John to my Hawkeye Pierce.
When we got to our base to do the work, the floor was at a thirty degree slant at least, and we both joked for a long time about how hard it was to stand upright, how we had to "bow-stand" all the time. It was all very deadpan hilarious at the moment, in the dream.
I wish I remembered more. Most of the best parts were during the leisurely drive up to the slanted camp, moments like the ice cube trays that were just simple pleasures in the middle of madness. But that's all I can remember now.