Go to sleep, everything is alright.

I'm finding it increasingly harder--harder and harder--to differentiate between reality and dreams. It's troubling in a non-crazy way. I swear, completely non-crazy. It just makes memory recall, a bitch. It must be the stress of my day-to-day life. Not stress, like stress, but stress as a static fluidity to my schedule. First came the vacation and then the next term and then vacation again and then again another term and then again the vacation. It was like a train going in and out of tunnels. Term, vacation; tunnel, out; noise, stop. The constant media inputs do not help. They make all the dreams that much worse. It's like a repeat of my day. But the realization of this only comes at the dawn. Like two different versions of the same thing, a troubling rashomon of my past. There are the events as they really happened; there are the events as I remember them, and; there are the events as I dream them. The first two are to be expected. The object and the subject of everyday occurrence that all experience. But in the third--a terrifying simulacra exists. This unreal representation is standard discourse to start, the seams are visible, I can see the strings, but as I move farther away, I fall into this artifice of eternity. The line between the mirror and mirrored becomes increasingly blurred as certain details of the simulacrum attach themselves to eidetic. And frequently, as a result, I find myself asking, Did this really happen? or, Did I dream it? It's usually just the small things. I try not to fret the small things. But what if everything is small. And what if I like the dream version better? Its too bad all these things can only happen in my dreams, only in dreams, in beautiful dreams.

Dreamin' 2: Electric Boogaloo

Dream last night was one huge disappointment.

Best Dream Ever

I'd just like to state that I had the best dream ever last night. I can't quite piece it all together in a way that makes any sort of sense, since it was a drunken fever dream. And what a cast, seemed like every one I knew was there. And it was really a journey, a quest, but for what I can't recall. And the setting was familiar but also defamiliarized. And I'm not sure why I took off my pants every time I got in my car (without taking off my shoes!) but I guarantee the nudity was tasteful. And the jokes! My god, it was the best comedy I never wrote. Sleep tonight can be nothing but a disappointment.

Top Five IV: Dream Jobs

Top Five Dreams Jobs: 1. Astronaut. 2. Old West Drifter. 3. Gentleman Hobo. 4. 1980 David Bowie from the Music Video Ashes to Ashes. 5. "Writer."

Weekly Wikipedia Find: Brown Booby

So I was Wikipedia-ing Christmas Island as research for a miscellaneous joke video I'm working on, and what should catch my eye but brown booby. Damn, I got excited there for a moment.

But the Brown Booby it refer to is this:


And not this:


But a man can dream.

That said, these birds do please me aesthetically. Plus, they look delicious. Further factoid: "they are particularly clumsy in takeoffs and landings."

Wikipedia by Week

Week Seventeen: Dieter Dengler
Week Sixteen: New Jerusalem
Week Fifteen: Technological Singularity
Week Fourteen: Numbers Station
Week Thirteen: Culper Ring
Week Twelve: Mary Sue
Week Eleven: Byford dolphin diving bell accident
Week Ten: Deep-sea gigantism
Week Nine: Bloop
Week Eight: Rat king
Week Seven: Gustave Doré
Week Six: Tomorrow
Week Five: Borscht Belt
Week Four: Swampman
Week Three: Chinese room
Week Two: Ambrose Burnside
Week One: Lolita fashion

Interpretation of Dreams I

I had a dream and Robert Evans was in it. Worst dream ever, right? A group us were going but I had to run back home and grab something. My home circa 1986-2006 in Blue Collar, Ontario.

So I yell back to Robert Evans, "Robert Evans, are you taking the bus?" "Yeah." "Which bus?" "Haven't you ever taken the bus downtown before? The Grey Goose."

Damnit, The Kid, you can't ride a bottle of vodka downtown. Uptown maybe, but not downtown.

(Picture in B&W to deflect any of the orange glow that emanates from The Kid's skin.)