I dreamed about
unknownbinaries and
cailement walking around, naked, a lot, in the house.
cailement was completely comfortable with everyone but me; when she saw that I was entering a room, she put a towel on. Conversations around decorum.
Something about traveling to the moon, to solve a crime, or to help someone out. There was a man, who refused to leave an historically important crater in the Moon Museum, which was a museum dedicated to the first colony on the Moon. The current colony was a domed arcology version of Peachtree Centre Business Plaza: Part offices, part condominiums and hotels, part shopping mall. The guy believed that it was his right, as a moon traveller, or astronaut, or something, and he had chained himself in. He was generally tolerated, but not always...
I walked around, inside the complex, up and down the escalators, and along one moving walkway that went literally nowhere but into a wall, and suddenly I was there with someone, and we were partners, Mulder-and-Scully-in-seasons-1-6-style. We'd been assigned to get to the bottom of this case, and to do it on the Moon. We'd been ordered there by Miranda Zero, who turned the gravity off, as soon as we got there, at least in the crater. This advent seemed to make the gentleman living there Extremely happy. My partner and I were checking out the moving walkway to nowhere, when we got the call that it was about to be sunrise.
Simultaneously, I was talking to a guard, who was talking to the guy in the crater, about how it was about to be sunset. The guy in the crater asked if we could have slow day progression, now, rather than all the lights just turning on and off? If we could have normal days and nights and seasons... The Moon rotated, and we could see the curvature of the Earth, and its shadow across us, and we watched as the sun set, and rose again, on the oter side of us. Things were different.
Inside the mall, I hopped over the railing/ran the opposite way down the MWtN, to catch and monitor the morning rush of office workers, in the central food court. People pushing and shoving for pastries, candy, meat, coffee, and even soft serve ice cream, for the children. I noticed that most people were eating really sugary things, for breakfast, items with a very high caloric count. I thought about it, and realised that it would help them start their day, more forecefully, as it would rush sugar and carbohydrates into their blood. I walked around the internal wheel structure (one central counter, with an aisle, and then a counter on the far side), with Rob, from Chocolaté, and looked at things like giant danishes and hams, behind foggy deli counter windows.
Cut to the Book/Video/Comics store, in the centre of all of this, up the escalators. I've run up there because Voltaire's "Coin Operated Goy" is playing over the speakers, and I want to change it before someone gets horribly offended, but, as I get up there, I see a Hasidic Jew laughing at the song, as he walks past, and I relax. I walk to the centre of the level, where there are several shelves arranged in partial enclosures, and I start speaking with an old cop buddy of mine, a former partner, (who may or may not have been Tamoh Pinkett) as I look through the Image and Vertigo Comics shelves at copies of 100 Bullets, Spawn, and something else. The Spawn comics have the characters scrawled with a strange angellic-type script that I recognise, but was never in the actual comic. There's something poignant about the 100 Bullets trade paperbacks, and their relation to what my old cop friend is about to do, the kind of betrayal he's about to display, as he's started working for this powerful organized crime/biotech/artificial intelligence firm. He says something that means he's leaving, and all the mixed feelings that holds, when gunshots sound, and we're running toward the sound.
We're down at the pier, and there are cars speeding off in all directions. A young black detective-- newly minted and deeply emotional-- runs down the bank into the water, splashing around the curve of the slope, under and between two piers. He's screaming and crying, as he goes, and he dives down into the water, seeming to know what he'll find. He comes back up and around, carrying the bullet-riddled body of an older detective, played by Terrence Howard, and he's screaming at the man to wake up, to pull through, but he's gone... We know that we could all be in deep shit for being here, if we are when the cops show up. We hear the sirens, but we can't take him away from the body. There is a man in the back of an expensive car, waiting, watching with a high-powered automatic pistol, as the kid holds his dead mentor in the water under the pier, and he mutters something to himself, and fires at the detective. The kid does not die, but the bullet riccochets and kills the man who fired. I wonder if I should have done that; if it wouldn't have been better to let the poor bastard die in his grief. I wake up.
Entry took me an hour to damn write, as I kept getting distracted. Tamoh's appearance courtesy of the season primier of DollHouse, last night. Everything else? Some clue, but not much of one.
Time for breakfast.
Something about traveling to the moon, to solve a crime, or to help someone out. There was a man, who refused to leave an historically important crater in the Moon Museum, which was a museum dedicated to the first colony on the Moon. The current colony was a domed arcology version of Peachtree Centre Business Plaza: Part offices, part condominiums and hotels, part shopping mall. The guy believed that it was his right, as a moon traveller, or astronaut, or something, and he had chained himself in. He was generally tolerated, but not always...
I walked around, inside the complex, up and down the escalators, and along one moving walkway that went literally nowhere but into a wall, and suddenly I was there with someone, and we were partners, Mulder-and-Scully-in-seasons-1-6-style. We'd been assigned to get to the bottom of this case, and to do it on the Moon. We'd been ordered there by Miranda Zero, who turned the gravity off, as soon as we got there, at least in the crater. This advent seemed to make the gentleman living there Extremely happy. My partner and I were checking out the moving walkway to nowhere, when we got the call that it was about to be sunrise.
Simultaneously, I was talking to a guard, who was talking to the guy in the crater, about how it was about to be sunset. The guy in the crater asked if we could have slow day progression, now, rather than all the lights just turning on and off? If we could have normal days and nights and seasons... The Moon rotated, and we could see the curvature of the Earth, and its shadow across us, and we watched as the sun set, and rose again, on the oter side of us. Things were different.
Inside the mall, I hopped over the railing/ran the opposite way down the MWtN, to catch and monitor the morning rush of office workers, in the central food court. People pushing and shoving for pastries, candy, meat, coffee, and even soft serve ice cream, for the children. I noticed that most people were eating really sugary things, for breakfast, items with a very high caloric count. I thought about it, and realised that it would help them start their day, more forecefully, as it would rush sugar and carbohydrates into their blood. I walked around the internal wheel structure (one central counter, with an aisle, and then a counter on the far side), with Rob, from Chocolaté, and looked at things like giant danishes and hams, behind foggy deli counter windows.
Cut to the Book/Video/Comics store, in the centre of all of this, up the escalators. I've run up there because Voltaire's "Coin Operated Goy" is playing over the speakers, and I want to change it before someone gets horribly offended, but, as I get up there, I see a Hasidic Jew laughing at the song, as he walks past, and I relax. I walk to the centre of the level, where there are several shelves arranged in partial enclosures, and I start speaking with an old cop buddy of mine, a former partner, (who may or may not have been Tamoh Pinkett) as I look through the Image and Vertigo Comics shelves at copies of 100 Bullets, Spawn, and something else. The Spawn comics have the characters scrawled with a strange angellic-type script that I recognise, but was never in the actual comic. There's something poignant about the 100 Bullets trade paperbacks, and their relation to what my old cop friend is about to do, the kind of betrayal he's about to display, as he's started working for this powerful organized crime/biotech/artificial intelligence firm. He says something that means he's leaving, and all the mixed feelings that holds, when gunshots sound, and we're running toward the sound.
We're down at the pier, and there are cars speeding off in all directions. A young black detective-- newly minted and deeply emotional-- runs down the bank into the water, splashing around the curve of the slope, under and between two piers. He's screaming and crying, as he goes, and he dives down into the water, seeming to know what he'll find. He comes back up and around, carrying the bullet-riddled body of an older detective, played by Terrence Howard, and he's screaming at the man to wake up, to pull through, but he's gone... We know that we could all be in deep shit for being here, if we are when the cops show up. We hear the sirens, but we can't take him away from the body. There is a man in the back of an expensive car, waiting, watching with a high-powered automatic pistol, as the kid holds his dead mentor in the water under the pier, and he mutters something to himself, and fires at the detective. The kid does not die, but the bullet riccochets and kills the man who fired. I wonder if I should have done that; if it wouldn't have been better to let the poor bastard die in his grief. I wake up.
Entry took me an hour to damn write, as I kept getting distracted. Tamoh's appearance courtesy of the season primier of DollHouse, last night. Everything else? Some clue, but not much of one.
Time for breakfast.