Dreams: My aunt is graduating from something, and I kind of show up in the middle of family preparation. I have to find pants, and a shirt, and my dad is wondering why I am not ready. I get dressed, we leave.(Note to self: Call, check on family, today).
I am watching, reading, and being John Constantines from different dimensions, all working together at a pub, where the dimensional flux is low enough to converge. Constantine and Tim Hunter are all there, and Constantine has a cat familiar, and it's grumbling about beer, and how it could be on the roof, drinking, rather than skulking around, openeing dimensional doors, for people. We go in, and Death is there, tending bar, and she's kind of happy to see us. Somewhere else in the multiverse, someone asks her about sin, and if she takes pleasure, in her job. She offers in the trues way, with the words that only she could use, and make true. We're trying to stop one of the John's from taking over or destroying the multiverse. The scene cuts to him, and John Prime, each talking to the other, dangerous, and Evil John reciting, word for word, one of the first speeches John gave to Tim, about magic.
I'm in the military, and there's a friend of mine who is overweight, and I can see this becoming a "Full Metal Jacket" situation, real fast, so I stick up for him, and help him fight whoever comes after him. Eventually, the Sarge puts this little red star on an archery target, which will kill him, if someone hits it. I rip it off, and have a shouting match with the Seargent. We go into a room with a couch, and shelves, and set up a horribly difficult game of darts.
The sarge is now the First Lady, and we're lining up out last shots. I'm at the White House, which is also Lindberg MARTA station, and we are all there, to work, and enjoy the company of the Bartletts. There's also a concert by MF DOOM, and we're all very pleased to see that. Something Happens, and the power goes out, and we sit, huddled in the Mural Room, which is also the street, in front of the BellSouth building, there, at Lindberg. The first lady tells us stories, and keeps us company, and as the sun rises, we realise that we are out of drinks, and
mech_angel who is also someone else, asks me to go get her a soda, from the vending machine. On my way there, MF DOOM calls me from a "variable number" to jokingly explain that he 's not giving the money back or doing the concert, and that I should tell the first lady. He wants it to be a surprise. He says "Photo Paintshop," in an exagerated, mocking voice, and we both laugh, because this was something
reannaremick had told us that the First Lady had gotten uncharacteristically angry about, and it was funny to mock. The sun is coming out, after the storm, and it's warm, and a little humid, like spring. We all sit down, and wait. Everything feels like childhood DC spring. I wake up
Yeah. Strange.
Last night, when
mech_angel, Bob, and I went to the DeKalb Farmer's Market,
mech_angel poited out to me a guy wearing a 12 Oz. Mouse shirt. After speculating loudly about where he could have gotten a shirt that wasn't for sale, something almost clicked, in my mind, and I resolved to ask him where he got it.
"Excuse me," I said, "where did you buy your shirt?"
"Oh. I didn't," came the reply. "We make it."
Clicking over in my mind, too fast, my eyes went wide and I managed, 'Oh. . . . You do Good Work."
"Thank you," he said, and went back to his selection of cheeses.
Too fast, I say, because i forgot to ask him his damned name.
Ah well.
If you did not see last night's Boondocks, then you need to go find it, right the hell now.
IBack later
I am watching, reading, and being John Constantines from different dimensions, all working together at a pub, where the dimensional flux is low enough to converge. Constantine and Tim Hunter are all there, and Constantine has a cat familiar, and it's grumbling about beer, and how it could be on the roof, drinking, rather than skulking around, openeing dimensional doors, for people. We go in, and Death is there, tending bar, and she's kind of happy to see us. Somewhere else in the multiverse, someone asks her about sin, and if she takes pleasure, in her job. She offers in the trues way, with the words that only she could use, and make true. We're trying to stop one of the John's from taking over or destroying the multiverse. The scene cuts to him, and John Prime, each talking to the other, dangerous, and Evil John reciting, word for word, one of the first speeches John gave to Tim, about magic.
I'm in the military, and there's a friend of mine who is overweight, and I can see this becoming a "Full Metal Jacket" situation, real fast, so I stick up for him, and help him fight whoever comes after him. Eventually, the Sarge puts this little red star on an archery target, which will kill him, if someone hits it. I rip it off, and have a shouting match with the Seargent. We go into a room with a couch, and shelves, and set up a horribly difficult game of darts.
The sarge is now the First Lady, and we're lining up out last shots. I'm at the White House, which is also Lindberg MARTA station, and we are all there, to work, and enjoy the company of the Bartletts. There's also a concert by MF DOOM, and we're all very pleased to see that. Something Happens, and the power goes out, and we sit, huddled in the Mural Room, which is also the street, in front of the BellSouth building, there, at Lindberg. The first lady tells us stories, and keeps us company, and as the sun rises, we realise that we are out of drinks, and
Yeah. Strange.
Last night, when
"Excuse me," I said, "where did you buy your shirt?"
"Oh. I didn't," came the reply. "We make it."
Clicking over in my mind, too fast, my eyes went wide and I managed, 'Oh. . . . You do Good Work."
"Thank you," he said, and went back to his selection of cheeses.
Too fast, I say, because i forgot to ask him his damned name.
Ah well.
If you did not see last night's Boondocks, then you need to go find it, right the hell now.
IBack later
no subject
Date: 2006-01-16 05:21 pm (UTC)no subject
no subject
Date: 2006-01-17 05:39 am (UTC)no subject
It was not as "fun" a trip as it could have been, nice though it was.