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The Power of Dreams
By Ian King
Editor's
Note : The mighty Shotgun once again welcomes the words of
our pal from across the pond, Ian King.
"Sleep-those
little slices of death, how I loathe them." Edgar Allen Poe.
Now I'm
not quite as vehement in my dislike of sleeping as good old
Edgar there but, as a rule, I don't sleep much at all myself
and usually average around 4/5 hours a night.
Apparently
a "healthy" amount of sleep is 7.5 to 8 hours every night.
Personally I see this as a huge waste of time and I actually
begrudge the fact that I have to sleep every night. I've never
understood these people that lay in bed until the afternoon
on the weekend either.
The only
time I'll get up after 8am on a Saturday or Sunday is when
I've crawled into bed around 6am. Even then I'm still up by
10am, I could think of nothing worse than wasting almost an
entire day festering in bed.
The only
thing I enjoy about sleeping is dreaming and the only time
I ever want "just another half an hour" is when the pox-ridden
alarm clock wakes me up right at a good bit.
My dreams
are remarkably vivid and varied and I always remember them.
Usually they're a lot of fun as well although, now and again,
I do suffer from very bad nightmares. When that happens, anyone
stupid enough to actually be in bed with me can expect shouting,
sweating and, sometimes, being grabbed and shaken or something.
It can
be very embarrassing and I tend to call those nights my "Vietnam
Veteran" nights. Ok I'll be honest; some perverse part of
me thinks my Vietnam Vet nights are pretty cool for some reason.
Although
I enjoy my dreams a great deal I've never really tried to
look into them and find out what they mean. That's always
seemed a bit "New Age" for my liking so, taking the typically
male stance of distrusting anything I can't understand, screw
or gamble on I've left dream analysis well alone.
I have
heard lots of people talking about dream analysis and interpretation
and stuff though and it did start to interest me a bit so
I decided to swallow my Cro-Magnon pride and look into getting
some of my dreams analysed by some vapid, chanting hippy.
I started with a quick look on the Internet and found dozens
of sites dedicated to dream analysis. So in I dived in with
wild abandon, laying my inner psyche bare for all to see.
Call me
cynical but I expected most of it to be complete bollocks
and, as usual, I was right. There were reams and reams of
text from a frighteningly large number of tree hugging goons,
all of whom seemed to boil down most of their dreams to an
expression that they were tortured free-spirits in a materialistic
and soul destroying society.
Yeah,
sure you are…
The interpretations
ranged from the banal to the ridiculous. Flying dreams were
usually to do with "escaping bonds of the soul" or "elements
of desired change". No disrespect to the dream analysis fraternity
but I could make up pedestrian cobblers like that in my, er,
sleep.
Being
the terrible egocentric I am I wanted to talk about my dreams
so I hunted around to find a chat room where Hippies, Spiritualists
and other idiots gathered to chunter on about dreams and stuff.
I soon
found myself talking to a young lady from Chicago and I knew
I was onto a winner as her screen-name was "Mountain-Spirit".
If she wasn't a tree hugger then Hitler wasn't a bit of a
bastard.
I'm fairly
adept at toying with buffoons over the 'web and I started
out by listening to her nonsense and pretending I found it
fascinating, chucking in the odd salient comment here and
there and using phrases like "spiritual energy" until she
obviously thought I was decked head to toe in an organic fibre
smock.
Soon enough
I worked the conversation round to the subject of my own dreams,
eager to see what she made of a couple of my favourites. Now
these are actual dreams that I have had and if anyone out
there fancies giving me an interpretation then feel free.
What follows now is the (paraphrased) transcript of my conversation
and psyche-analysis with "Mountain-Spirit". I feel I have
to add that her use of exclamation marks really was that reckless,
surely the symptom of a diseased mind…
MS: "You
seem like a pretty cool guy Kingpin! I bet you have some out-there
dreams!"
KP: "Oh
I don't know about that. You want to hear some of them?"
MS: "I'd
love to! You can really get to know a person through their
dreams!"
KP: "Ok,
well last night I dreamt about going to the moon.."
MS: "You
went into space?! That's so cool! Were you in a space-ship
or did you fly there yourself!?"
KP: "Actually
I was on a train."
MS: "A
train?!"
KP: "Yeah.
With Hitler."
MS: "Hitler?!
What the Hitler?!"
KP: "Is
there more than one?"
MS: "Oh
my God I hope not!"
KP: "He
was actually a lot of fun. He beat me at Twister."
MS: "Hitler
was fun?! What were you doing with Hitler!?"
KP: "Well
we'd stolen every loaf of bread in the world, built a train-track
to the moon and then hid out on our secret base under the
sea of tranquillity while we held the world to ransom for
their bread. It was Hitler's idea, like I said, he's a lot
of fun once you get to know him."
MS: "Oh
my God I can't believe this! You were friends with Hitler?!"
KP: "Hey
I was asleep at the time. I can't help it if my subconscious
wants to befriend mass murdering dictators. I've never done
it while I was awake I promise! Not since Pol Pot anyway…"
MS: "What?!"
KP: "Sorry
bad joke! So anyway what does my dream mean?"
MS: "Jesus
I don't know! I've never heard of anything like this before!
Maybe the bread was a desire to hoard wealth you know?"
KP: "Hey
you could be right! Or it could have been a desire for Toast."
MS: "Toast!?"
KP: "Bread
that's been cooked."
MS: "I
know what toast is!"
KP: "Didn't
sound like it just then."
MS: "Look
I know what toast is ok? This whole Hitler thing has thrown
me a bit, I can't believe you were his buddy, even in a dream!
He was a horrible person!"
KP: "Yeah
but he's a snappy dresser! Those shiny boots were killer!"
MS: "Oh
my God I can't believe this!"
KP: "Ok,
ok let's stop with the Hitler thing I don't want to interrupt
your Chakras or anything. Can we talk about another of my
dreams? There's no dead dictators in it I promise."
MS: "Ok
then, God I bet this one can't be as bad!"
KP: "Well
I was in the "Planet of the Apes" right? All these Monkeys
in Jumpsuits had me in a dungeon but I got out and killed
loads of them.."
MS: "You
killed the Monkeys?!"
KP: "Hey
they started it, just ask Charlton Heston! Anyway they were
chasing me through these tunnels and stuff but they couldn't
run too well. They realised I was too fast for them and their
stumpy legs so they unleashed their secret weapon."
MS: "Oh
my God what was that?!"
KP: "They
had naked clones of Keira Knightley. With whips!"
MS: "Naked..?
Oh my God did they catch you?!"
KP: "Of
course they did! I pretty much gave myself up to be honest.
After that…well, let's just say it gets a little racy."
MS: "You
had sex with Monkey owned clones?! What sort of man are you?!"
KP: "Er,
one with a penis?"
MS: "Oh
my God this is insane! You're not the guy I thought you were!"
KP: "Why
because I like Hitler and naked girls? All the men in my family
do!"
MS: "Oh
my God I can't…"
KP: "Hey
what sort of panties are you wearing?"
MS: "WHAT!?!"
KP: "Are
they Tie-Dyed? I've got a moral allergy to Tie-Dyed clothing."
MS: "You're
disgusting! I'm signing off right now!"
KP: "Hey
keep your Caftan on luv! Don't you want to see a picture of
me just in my Jackboots?"
She declined
to answer that last one and I logged off before some sort
of criminal charges came my way, but I think I have conclusively
proven several points with this experiment.
1: My
dreams defy any sort of rational description.
2: "Spiritual" people have no sense of humour.
3: She probably was wearing Tie-Dyed panties.
4: No-one ever wants to see that picture of me just in my
Jackboots…
Ian can be found at ian.king@chelmsford.gov.uk
or catching up on his sleep under a barstool somewhere.
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