#also my socks were fuzzy so it was just like… dirt magnets

[los-plantalones]

experienced a holiday mishap when the lights i was whimsically hanging on a bookcase knocked over a giant pothos plant onto my head and dirt was all in the crevices of both the books and my person. and as if to mock me for my whimsy, the plant pot didn’t just hit the ground, oh no – it landed on one of the dog’s talking buttons and said in my wife’s voice, “NO!”

[chaotic-hypnotic-erotic]

The Architect Dream, 10 Years On

Ten years ago, 2007-04-20, I had this dream, below the jump.

It turns out that it had been 95 years since Bram Stoker’s death, and also the day I turned exactly 16,000 days old.

On the tenth anniversary, I am bringing it here and reproducing it on my Blogger blog, because I cannot keep it on my LJ blog much longer - I aim to delete my ancient blog, The Plainclothes Clown, some time before my birthday.

The dream began not long after my rescue by a benefactor, a very rich man, who pulled me out of a dire predicament which I can't remember - it was early in the dream, and the details are fuzzy, but for some reason I had no clothes, my rings and talisman were missing and I was only wearing what looked like a set of standard issue white socks, underpants and a vest. The man was immaculately dressed in a dark suit that looked like it cost him more than I get from benefits in a year. He sat in the back of a helicopter with me as we flew over this city, which looked like it went on forever. "This is a Mega City," I said. "And you and your people are Megacitizens." There were huge buildings looming over the rest of the buildings, including one incredibly thin, flat one. I told him "You built that one along a north - south alignment." He looked shocked, and I told him that since it was exactly noon, the light of the sun cast its thinnest shadow across the city from the building at that moment. I then said "You've been to Australia." And again, he didn't know why I'd say that; even less when I said "It's marvellous, isn't it, the beauty of those structures; none of them built by human hand, yet erected with such precision." Then he asked me how I knew about the structures in Australia - that I was talking about Compass or Magnetic Termites, insects that build these mounds twenty feet tall, like blades or fins, all aligned with magnetic north, or maybe like tombstones. My reply, as always with such things: "The image of what you have seen is still in your mind." I even freak people out in my dreams. So, anyway, we got into his limo; and we drove to the structure he'd built, like a giant glass fin, water cascading down the sides and all glass inside. Once inside the atrium of this immense structure, I got down on my hands and knees on the bare earth and began to erect the figures of Western Geomancy, casting the lots with the metal dice from my kit which he'd retrieved when he'd rescued me. I drew him a full geomantic shield, and showed him how his success was sadly going to be bought with blood; also, that "blood" could also mean "kin", and that either way, the sign meant "thicker than water," meaning that this was a tide which was going to be very hard to resist. I showed him a figure called the Reconciler, though, which read "The Major Fortune," which was an ultimate good sign, a beneficial final judgement. He'd sited this huge structure in the right place, and in the right alignment. But I urged caution, rather than haste, because his ambition would cost someone dear if this project was rushed, or costs were skimped or similar rash behaviour indulged in "to prove a point". I drew an I Ching hexagram in the ground, something like "Ultimate Harmony", to signal that all would be well, and to quiet the earth which actually started trembling like a lover in orgasm. A panel fell from the roof, at this point. It was a big square, and it landed point first right on the spot where I'd drawn the hexagram. Sunlight came in and illuminated the square, "like a diamond in the dirt, illumination surrounded by darkness." I told the architect these exact words; he got a call in from a contact, saying that his contract for a geodesic dome in some other part of the world had gone through, and he had a green light on it. He turned to me, and as he did so, his contact said the exact same words over the mobile phone to the architect. Finally, as we arrived at the hotel where I'd been put up (one of his buildings - a vast edifice, with one huge plaza in front that'd take ten, fifteen minutes to cross at least), the architect shook my hand, and gave me a funny handshake. I told him that, to his surprise, I did not wear the apron - but that I'd honour those who did for their sense of solidarity and brotherhood. Then I told him it'd be raining before I got to the entrance of the hotel, so he shouldn't stay outside the limo for too long or he'd get drenched. I got out, finally retrieving the rest of my stuff - my rings, my talisman, my clothes - and, as I donned my (always slightly shabby) duty black shoes, trousers and sweater, the architect asked me: 'How can someone like you live so small?' I turned to him and said the following. 'Consider the size of one of your largest buildings. The one you built like a glass needle in Tokyo, soaring so high into the sky nobody can see where it ends. Now see it in comparison to the magnetosphere of the Earth in all its glory. 'Now compare that to the magnetosphere of Jupiter - easily the largest phenomenon in the solar system, bigger even than the Sun. Now extend your perceptions outwards until you can see the whole of the solar system, right up to the Kuiper Belt and the Heliopause. 'Further, now; out past the local neighbourhood, to see the galaxy as a whole. Now further and further, until the galaxy itself is just a bright point, a mote of dust, in the local galactic supercluster, which itself becomes a tiny filament, a streak of light, a tiny thread, and gone, amidst the huge clouds of galaxies in our universe. Further still, until you run out of galaxies; and all you have is the universe itself, which shrinks all around you until all you can see of it is just a tiny, tiny black dot, surrounded by a blue - grey chaos. 'And now look at it again. You have been looking at the iris and pupil of my eye. We are back to where you started on this journey. I may look small, live smaller; but my eyes, my soul, encompass universes.'