The Place Within That which is Not.

Dreams stagger

Sun, 17 Aug 2008 20:24:16 GMT

I have, as I have mentioned, a dream girl. In fact, I have several, though none so dear to me as the first. I even have a dream ex, which is kind of weird.

But last night I dreamed about one of the only girls I've had deep feelings for in waking life. Interestingly, it wasn't really a romantic dream, more in line of the way I tend to behave toward women in real life, which is to say, awkward and roundabout.

In the dream, she lived near to me, and I was constantly trying to bring up the courage to go visit her, only to rationalize why I shouldn't and put it off (I do this all the time in real life). When I finally got over to her house, it was surrounded by parked cars, and I immediately thought, "oh, she has company, bad time" and hurried away. I later heard her father, who owned the house, was hosting some sort of annual neighborhood meeting, the name of which I forgot. It was also mentioned to me that the girl and her two sisters (I have no idea if she really has siblings) were being kept in cages during the meeting. It wasn't mentioned whether the girls were complicit in this. It's a dream thing.

So I hurried over, snuck in and found the cages. She asked me if I was going to let her out, and I said I would, and started to try to pick the lock. And Then, as the story always goes, I Woke Up.

Storytime: Dream theater

Sat, 16 Aug 2008 20:47:12 GMT

This was a bit muddled when I first woke up with it, because I think my brain was trying to splice together three separate stories into one continuity, but I think I've figured out most of the details (and made up a few cool new ones).

So there was this thief, in ancient China. I'm not sure how ancient, but anyway, he was known across the land for his skills and his honesty (not sure how an honest thief works out, but anyway.), and was highly respected by the government (I can only guess he spied for them on an enemy, or possibly stole some great wealth from another country and gave it to them). So the Emperor invites the thief to the palace for some sort of gathering of all the lords of the realm, where they all get together and discuss policy. The idea is to tout this famous thief in front of the representatives of the entire country, a great honor, and though our thief doesn't really care for such festivities, he's flattered enough that he goes along.

At the palace, he meets the princess, daughter of the Emperor, who he naturally falls in love with. I get the feeling he met her somewhere before, but didn't know who she was, but I don't know the details.

Unfortunately, at this point things start to hit major snags. Someone has already shown up claiming to be him, convinced the Emperor completely, and discredits the real guy when he objects. He gets kicked out, but sneaks back in to figure things out.

Turns out the impostor is a very powerful pirate lord, who is planning to capture the entire palace. He's decked out his men in the armor of the imperial guard, and somehow disable the elaborate system that summons the real guard when there's trouble. The whole coup is very carefully planned, and our hero is too late to stop it.

The fake guards burst in while everyone is gathered in a sort of great hall, killing anyone who resists. The thief fights some of them, but gets knocked out. The princess gets captured by the pirate, who uses her as leverage to force the Emperor to cooperate. In the process of all this, the palace's automatic defenses (a system of elaborate traps) get activated, causing problems for everyone, including the pirates who had no idea such a system was in place.

Meanwhile, the thief wakes up in a small outroom on the perimeter of the great hall, a couple of floor up. He finds the pirates patrolling the area, watching for trouble and keeping the lords under lock and key, meaning to ransom them back to their respected districts for huge sums of money. Our hero dispatches a couple who come to investigate when he opens the door, and is planning how to sneak back to the throne room to confront the pirate lord. Then, sadly, I woke up.

Thinking this story over, I came up with a couple of extra points that were only hinted at in the dream. Most of them I already mentioned, but one thing that really impressed me was the thief's knife, which was passed down to him from his master through the generations from a grand master thief of long ago. The knife is very long, both the blade and hilt, and perfectly balanced for throwing, but it has an interesting device in it. The middle part of the hilt breaks into two parts, which slide away, allowing the top of the hilt to slide down, uncovering more of the blade, where there is a hinge. Applying sideways torsion to the blade at this point separates it into several parts, which can be used as a set of lockpicks. I've thought this over and I think it would actually work. Best of all, it would be an excellent way to hide lockpicks from authority figures, as lockpicks are illegal almost everywhere, but knives often are not.

Edit: After writing this, I randomly turned on the TV and there was a documentary on Qin, the first Emperor of China. Wonder if that means anything.

Random Thought of the Second

Sat, 16 Aug 2008 04:37:21 GMT

I wish it were somehow possible for it to be night all the time. That would be great.

Also, I've noticed that certain places are completely abandoned at night. Public places, like schools, libraries and churches, that see thousands of people during the course of the day, but late at night... nobody. Zero. It's really cool to visit these places at such a time, and have the feeling of such a huge building being entirely at your disposal (although, of course, you might think twice about going inside, as that's breaking and entering).

Also, have you ever been to a new place and realized, after a moment, that you know it very well? It's actually quite familiar to you. That happens to me all the time. Mainly because of dreams. I dream of a place and, eventually, I see it. I hope it applies to people as well.

Random Quote of the Day

Sat, 16 Aug 2008 01:29:23 GMT

"You've evolved so much. As a species you've grown so big."
"Yes, we've become quite big, but in the smallest ways."

Random Quote of the Day

Wed, 13 Aug 2008 21:23:41 GMT

"You people are getting way too caught up in this. Guns are tools! They aren't a way of life."
"Son, I think you're forgetting our motto." *points to a sign* 'Guns aren't just tools, they're a way of life!'

Random Thought of the Second

Tue, 12 Aug 2008 21:28:09 GMT

Bumper sticker idea:
"Scheduling Happens"

Random Thought of the Second

Sun, 10 Aug 2008 20:24:52 GMT

It's said that Austin has some of the hottest women in the country, a claim that is easy to ignore until one visits somewhere else.

Random Quote of the Second

Fri, 08 Aug 2008 23:48:05 GMT

Up ahead there appeared a simple construction without apparent purpose, a rickety-looking doorway in the road made of two upright logs with a third laid over them, the whole apparently held together by a pair of square wooden pegs. Ax supposed the logs were dug deep into the ground, for the considerable wind didn't disturb the structure in any noticeable way.

It was so unremarkable that he didn't even stop or give it a second thought, and continued along the path; but a hand at his shoulder stopped him. He looked back at Nikk who nodded solemnly at the wooden structure. "Gate," the wizard said simply. His tone was strange, and it took Ax a moment to realize he had not said "gate," but rather "Gate," which was another thing entirely.

He considered a number of inquiries into this unsatisfactory label, and finally settled on "Where does it lead?"

"Somewhere Else," said Nikk, still speaking in capitals.

Random Thought of the Second:

Sun, 03 Aug 2008 18:11:55 GMT

Does everyone periodically dream about zombies, or is it just me?

But this one was different. The zombies were still living, and they weren't all bloodied up, but they were really pale and kind of mangy, like they hadn't slept in a week, so you could still recognize them quickly. And the thing was, they didn't always attack right away. Some of the time they acted normally. They might go right up to you and shake your hand and chat with you, or they might go for the jugular. They could snap at any time.
And most people were refusing to recognize this. Either from poor observance or denial, many people didn't realize what was happening. Meanwhile, I was walking around shooting every pale disheveled bastard I saw right away, and I kept getting in trouble for it.

Right before I woke up, I had an interesting thought. Marijuana reportedly curbs anger and violent tendencies. Would it quell zombies? Or would it just make them more hungry?

Random Thought of the Second:

Sat, 02 Aug 2008 03:29:45 GMT

I've just realized another one of my personal problems. I'm conflicted between the desire to resolve a situation and the desire to watch it unfold. I can't decide how much to interfere with the world.

Random Quote of the Day:

Sat, 02 Aug 2008 02:27:21 GMT

"Perhaps, what we ought fear the most is the fear of fear itself."

Movie and a movie theater: thoughts on the Dark Knight

Fri, 18 Jul 2008 08:29:49 GMT

Awesome. Truly great action movie by any standards (car chases, explosions, tops on all counts), also magnificent as a suspense piece to a certain degree, and definitely a good drama. Characters are believable, etc. Some points (possible spoilers):

Looks like they're keeping to the two-villain-a-movie trend. And they were awesomely done, too. Joker was different than any Joker I've ever seen, so much so that I can't even compare him to the rest. One of my favorite aspects of his character: he tells jokes! First Joker I can remember who did that. They're bad jokes, of course (as in, intentionally bad), but he makes the effort. Best part was that everything he did was basically plausible, assuming lots of funding and serious luck. Two-Face was also good, though he didn't get much screen time in villain form, but his character was a lot more real than any version of him I've seen before.

According to the credits, Gotham was done by splicing together Chicago and London, which makes sense, but interestingly leaves New York out of the picture, and that's odd since Gotham is named after and originally visually based on that city.

Final thought: sorry to see Heath go, but I hear they may get Daniel Day-Lewis for the Joker next movie. Sweet.

Excerpt

Sun, 13 Jul 2008 05:34:27 GMT

[I'm posting this mainly so I don't forget it]

She glared down at the minute form. Crumpled, bedraggled as he was, he seemed pitiful, almost harmless. But not quite. Still, he was no match, certainly not now.

"You have thirty seconds to convince me not to destroy you," she intoned.

The little demon smiled, showing his very pointed teeth. The smile meant nothing. "You wouldn't hurt a little harmless kid, would you?"

Koni scoffed, gossamer wings flaring scornfully. "Don't tempt her mercy, ill-born. She has none with your kind."

She ignored the other woman. "You look like a kid, but I can tell your true nature, and that is to bring pain to what exists. Don't take me for an idiot. Eighteen seconds."

"I-I don't have to be bad. Sure, natural demons destroy everything around them without thinking, but I'm corporealized now. I have a mind, and I can reason. If I decide it's more sensible, I can keep from hurting people, since that would make them my enemies."

"You can't deny the core of your nature, though, which is to feed on the pain and suffering of others. Without that source of power, you die. Five seconds."

"But I don't have to make it worse! I can feed off what's there, I can make things better! It'll take more people, but I can do it. I can take their fear and make them brave, take their hatred and make them tolerant, take their insecurity and make them wise!" He flinched, now, waiting for the blow to come any moment. "I can do good! I can do good!"

He kept his eyes closed for a long time, and finally opened them to see if he still existed. But the Sentinel, still towering over him, was now looking to the angel.

"You think it could work?"

"Why not? It would require a severe change in his basic nature, but everything changes, in time. Even demons can evolve, I suppose. Granted, they've been around as long as there have been thoughts, which makes it, I guess, about fourteen billion years, and they haven't changed since then."

"Everything changes..." the Sentinel considered.

"It would be handy, though. A being that consumes negative energy and produces positive... With something like that, we could start a chain reaction of goodness. Imagine it, Kady: redeeming demons. If we could do that, we could save everything. We could win the universe."

The Sentinel looked to the demonling, who still sat cringing at her feet. "What's your name?"

"Kilnij."

She nodded. "Kilnij. You just got the only chance I'll ever give your kind. Don't waste it."

Random Thought of the Second

Fri, 11 Jul 2008 08:32:51 GMT

I DO NOT LIKE TO SHOWER WITH ROACHES.

Random Thought of the Second

Thu, 10 Jul 2008 03:19:12 GMT

Once, humanity knew everything. But we gave it up so we could experience the joy of learning.

Storytime: Dream: The Witch's Cottage

Sun, 29 Jun 2008 19:22:59 GMT

It seemed fine, at first. The woman was a kind and gracious host, the strange house in the middle of the forest was scrupulously clean, there happened to be exactly the right number of guest beds for us, and lavish meals were set out for us at regular intervals by servants who managed to remain completely unseen. We had our suspicions, of course– things were just a bit too convenient, and those invisible servants were more than a little unusual. But the woman laughed off our cares, and presented us with comfort after comfort that made us forget any life before that giant house.

Then she began to take us, one by one.

The witch was subtle at first, stealing away our number one at a time and easing our suspicions by saying, oh, they must be somewhere else, it’s a large house, perhaps they’re having a walk in the woods, but our unease grew, and she finally shed her subterfuge and revealed her true nature. Not that the knowing gave us any advantage; we were playthings to her, our struggles an amusement. She could have stolen us all away, made us into toys and mindless servants for her use, for that end was far more useful to her than our deaths, but she enjoyed the taking, and so she vanished, leaving us alone in the house to see how long we could survive, as she hid away, in shadows and light, mirrors and crossroads, waiting to strike when we least expected.

So we vanished, one by one, even as we wandered that dark house, trying to avoid everything at once, yet knowing we must press onward. She would set upon us with tricks and traps, with spells and puzzles, meant to test us, to see how well we could resist. She clearly felt no danger from us, but we were great toys, and she loved to see us try and survive. She didn’t just appear by herself, either, to take us; no, the entire surrounding, that great house, was a part of her, and that too became a series of lethal tests. The hallways became mazes, the bedchambers traps, and the witch and her house were not the only hazards. There were things, creatures, her servants, appearing from innocuous places and attacking us with fierce magic, and these sought to kill, not to capture.

But some few of us survived, and the longer we could endure, the more we learned about our situation.

We learned, from the witch’s telling, that magic was fading from the world, and that the witch was one of the last strong vestiges of it. She brought magic back to her house and its surrounding wood, but in doing so she came to control it. She even unlocked our own magical potentials, giving us strange gifts, and also letting us survive just a bit longer against her assaults. But those gifts we possessed also made us more desirable for her to control.

We learned that the house itself was made of the wood of Elder trees, ancient and sentient creatures that had been hewn and sawed into an abode that seethed with malevolence, bubbling over with the last curses of a hundred trees. The walls and doors and banisters could rise up against us at any moment, even without her commands.

We learned that the sprites which made her food and cleaned her cursed house were flighty and pranksome creatures by nature, but now fought us like demons, scratching with tiny claws and flinging gobs of sparkling dust in our faces, causing hallucinations and sickness. They appeared as little men, in fine clothing and with red and blobby faces like garden gnomes, but these were not their true forms. We learned, by pure chance, that the witch’s power over them was limited and would wane over several days, and that if the sprites should turn fully in a circle, that they would age a day. So if one was to take a sprite by the head and spin him like a top, the witch’s spell would break and it would regain its true nature and form, appearing something like a grey and wispy figure, with doleful eyes and long, clawlike fingers. From the freed sprites we learned much, and this was the initial source of our greatest advantage.

From them we finally learned that the witch’s greatest power was in glamour, magic that changed the appearance of a thing, and that by setting glamour on her prey she could come to control them. She changed the trees, making their gnarled and frail forms seem rich and bountiful. She changed the sprites from their wraithlike selves to the comical shapes that we had seen. Most significantly, her own power was tied up in the glamour that she placed on herself, making her seem a pleasant, middle-aged woman, and that if this illusion was dispelled, much of her power would go with it. That glamour was applied with a comb, one of a dozen that she kept together, and could be removed the same way.

Luckily for us, the twins had gained, from the witch’s tampering, the ability to sense the true nature of things, and they quickly worked through the many combs to find the one we wanted. Naturally, it was the black one.

The witch appeared, then. I don’t know why she waited so long; she must have known our plan. But when she appeared, all subterfuges were dropped, and she fought us with the full measure of her ability. She did not find us as easy prey as she expected. She had made us stronger than she realized, and we had learned much. We managed to hold her long enough for the child to skirt her defenses and stab her with that accursed comb, and something happened that none of us, surely not the witch, expected: she was trapped within it, and all her spells were broken. We were ourselves, and saved, and the many creatures which had been held in thrall to the witch were now free.

Some of us rushed to the cars, but the trees still blocked the way out of the forest. We would have walked, but Simon, who had long since taken the lead, was adamant that we return to the house. We might find something of use, he insisted, even better something of great value. As well he was overcome with greed, for it saved our lives. Yet while we wandered the great and rambling building, which still trembled with malice, a cold wind passed outside, and the sun’s light dimmed. A look from the windows showed our danger: the Elder trees had woken, and were coming for their revenge.

We tried to placate them, but it was to no avail, and they were far too many to fight or even escape. Even so we might have been better off than what happened next; for one of the sprites, it turned out, was loyal to the witch, and he freed her from the comb. In that moment, her power overwhelmed the house and the wood, and reasserted itself over the various creatures within, but left us as we had been in the beginning, and it was like déjà vu– lost again in that impossible house, being hunted down one by one. But now we knew what to do. Except, when we found the comb, and the witch, she foiled our fumbling attempts to use it against her, and took it in her own hands, and laughing, tore it into several pieces.

Now the hag, for that is what she was, an ancient thing without a trace of youth or beauty in her, now, she was unrestricted in the magic she threw against us.

I’m still not sure how we defeated her, but no magic could bring her back from death, the sprites assured us of this. But we were still trapped, trapped by the trees, and they would be coming back.

Then I had an idea, and the sprites were eager to help. With them, there were enough of us. We disarmed the house, disenchanting those objects and parts that held dangerous trap spells. We cleaned up and repaired the battle damage, fixed the windows, washed the dishes (I’m not sure when they got dirty, but they did), and generally made the place spotless and beautiful. And, thanks to the girl’s new power, we were even able to soothe the spirits of the trees from which the place had been built.

When the Elder trees arrived, they sensed that the aura of the place had changed. They were angry, but they were wise and still sensible. I broached an agreement with them. Never would we humans cut them down, and we would remain to make sure others did not, and to use our powers to watch over the magical creatures the witch had unleashed, to make sure they would not fade again from this part of the world.
And that is how we became the stewards of this house.

This is a dream I had last night, presented in all the details I could recall. There's some things missing- I'm pretty sure there were more creatures than the sprites and the trees, and I don't remember how the witch was killed. I think my brain couldn't think of a way to do it, so it skipped over that part. I also remember a lot of wandering through the house looking for things, but I can't remember what they were. I also added some details that weren't in the dream itself, for consistency.

Attention

Sun, 29 Jun 2008 00:10:14 GMT

I have captured perfection on the digital page. Well, approximately.

Provisionally, this should make looking for her a bit easier.

Random Thought of the Second

Tue, 24 Jun 2008 01:10:10 GMT

Shirt slogan: "Wash 'em all, let Mom sort 'em out."

(I think I heard that somewhere, but I'm not sure.)

Storytime (some discretion required)

Sat, 21 Jun 2008 03:54:22 GMT

I love my subconscious. When it has something to tell me, it does so in such a direct way. I had a dream last night to that effect. The following is somewhat sexually explicit. It's also personal, but I'm not a secretive person and don't mind people knowing how I tick.

There was a party at a brothel. The kind you might imagine. Don't ask why I was there, but I wasn't enjoying it. I wound my way through the gyrating revelers, making a path without revulsion but with restraint. Mainly I was looking for something to do, as the festivities held no interest for me. The place itself was a large house, at least two stories tall, with a number of well-furnished hallways leading into numerous rooms, all of them open at present, some containing partiers who wished for a bit more privacy. The windows were many, and large, letting plenty of light in and showing a fair amount of wilderness outside, indicating that this place was some distance from any major development.

At some point I found a woman who was not otherwise occupied, lounging on a recliner, and struck up a conversation with her. In about her late twenties, she was classically beautiful, clearly of pure European descent, with fair skin and a lovely face with icy blue eyes, her long hair dyed to match, with suiting lipstick as well. Her form was slender and voluptuous, especially her pert and round breasts, which may have been fake, and was clad in a skimpy leather number that more underscored her features than covered them. She was demure, confident, able to take command of a situation, and possessed of a raucous sense of humor, as one might guess with a prostitute.

I began to talk with her out of desperation, perhaps, and found her an exemplary conversationalist. We talked for some time, but I don't remember at all the subject matter, nor the name that she mentioned once or twice, to my considerable regret. At some point, however, she was called away by someone who desired her more accustomed services. So I set to wandering again, this time with a book in hand, which is my typical solution to a party atmosphere.

Well, somewhat later, I met the blue woman again, and resumed the conversation. She and I retreated to a private room to continue uninterrupted, which we did at some length. I was rather pleased by her intellect and the two of us, I think, really hit it off. I wanted to keep talking for a long time, but was surprised and a bit disappointed when she cut off the discussion by suddenly grabbing and kissing me. Just when I had recovered enough from the shock to try to push away, she shoved her right breast into my mouth, muffling any protest I could have made.

This woke me up, partly because plot twists in my dreams tend to do that, but also because it pointed out a feature of my personality that I've had a hard time putting my finger on in the past, and that I finally realized is simply this: I far prefer social intercourse to the physical variety. Now that I've hit that nail on the head, I think things might go a bit more smoothly for me.

Something else I've realized the dream illustrated to me: while there are, clearly, those whose predilections fall in the opposite manner of my own, many, I think, are equally or about equally inclined to both, and some pursue one to the detriment of the other because of a lack of confidence in that area. I think that the blue woman in my dream resorted to a sexual act because she was unsure how to foster a relationship otherwise; and conversely, I expect, I tend to hold fast to dialogues because of a slightly fearful hesitance to engage in other, more physically intimate means of expression.

Incidentally, the woman in question, like all those in my dreams, is, I believe, an actual person, living somewhere, and in fact I think I recall having seen her somewhere, most likely on the internet. Despite this, I intend to develop her as a character- she's certainly interesting enough- and find a place for her somewhere in my realm of stories. For her sake, I hope she does well.

Random Quote of the Day

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 02:57:18 GMT

A bisexual is someone who sticks their hands down someone's pants and they're satisfied with whatever they find. -Dana Carvey

Random Thought of the Second

Fri, 20 Jun 2008 02:01:05 GMT

Just for that, I'm now in favor of immediately dismantling the UN.

Random Quote of the Day

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 23:43:36 GMT

"Eternity is like chicken; no matter how you slice it, it's still chicken."

Some Neologisms

Thu, 05 Jun 2008 01:04:11 GMT

Intimamidate: portmanteau, intimate + intimidate. To inform through frightening means.
Plossible: portmanteau, plausible + possible. Both possible and probable. Alternate form, prossible.
Progment: portmanteau, progress + augment. To improve (e.g. a process) through thought and reason (as opposed, say, to trial and error).

Random Quote of the Day

Sat, 31 May 2008 18:24:27 GMT

"Hey, look, a moo-cow."
"What do you mean by that? Is there some other kind of cow you're differentiating it from?"

Random Thought of the Second

Mon, 19 May 2008 22:59:59 GMT

There should be an international holiday called Someday. So that all the stuff we always put off until someday would finally get done.