2012

14-8-12 Harry Potter - Sustainable Village crossover.

Extrapolative fiction once again proves its worth. The village (perhaps just my perception of it) was in a much more expansive and vertical forest (almost a cartoon forest), and the houses, of whose number I think I only saw one, were similarly lanky, with A-frame roofs. Either the village has been rebuilt on the southernmost boreal Pacific Coast, or they had all been outfitted for the summer months, for the three or four floors of the house I could see were all glass and screens and open places (actually, the whole bilin’ of ‘em might have been entirely glass). And the forest floor was rather flat, with streams running through like children. Anyway, I seem to recall little of any wizarding-world interludes, other than Ron crashed on the floor of a large-ish two-story room, lit by dappled green light, with Hermione standing over him.

Further exposition:

?-8-12 On a wooded Mars (adventures)?

30-6-12 First, a recurring dream without salient features. Next, a hasty secretive electronics recycling. Details pending.

Further exposition:

25-6-12 J was vituperally disappointed with me. Her verbal signification of the same I cannot remember (perhaps simply ”No"), but it hit hard. I seemed to have crashed on the ground shortly beforehand.

Further exposition: It was at the northern entrance-courtyard to the UAF Art Department.

20-5-12 Once again, the Bunnell building had four or five extra floors, and a slightly slanted glass roof. Also in similarity to my last mysterious visit was my unknown reason for going to the back of the top floor, out onto the precipitous promontory overlooking the open air connecting all seven floors. Barely 75 cm wide, it ran along the back doors until It veered away from the wall toward the far wall and another short promontory. Some madness had also induced me to bring Rocinante.

Further exposition:

?-?-12 No more stupid writing.

Some kind of spurious group organization had apparently taken place to bring the perhaps 150-or-so people into the three or four high-ceilinged black-and-red conference rooms, for next, isolated groups of us found ourselves assaulted by samurai-on-moped-like enemies armed with automatic crossbows. Having fought them by escaping from large room to large room, I then watched myself running with my thermosed pack past person after person in the open and stairwelled places of a rather colossal building. Several hundred stories tall, its circular glass ceiling was rather more than two kilometers in diameter, the conference/entrapment rooms being in its center above a vast gulf of open space.

Further exposition: Stupid?

22-1-12 Somebody and I were crouching on flattened lichened jagged rocks, looking at some large brightly-colored daddy long-legs walking along in businesslike manners. My companion picked one up between thumb and forefinger, watching its legs continue to walk, and advised me to squish any such creatures that I should see, which I naturally didn't want to do. Oddly in keeping with my opinion, my companion carefully set their arthropod down without injury, and we walked on.

Further exposition:

21-1-12 Mnemonia coupled with asymptomatic indifference lost most of this one. Too bad: they're fun-ish.

First, A W was singing something well, loud, merry, and outrageous at me on a gravel flat at the top of a wooded hill on a very misty fall day. About halfway through, the ridiculitis coefficient became too acute for me, and I off-joyed by rolling back and forth in a large patch of white powder between us (about 4 meters). We then took a walk further down the road behind me.

I was then in a partially destroyed wooden house in the side of a hill next to a wide path at tropical night. A broad dark roguish character was firing some absurdly small-for-its-power hand-gun out the door at a great spiky daemon advancing on us. Having killed it by compromising its brain through its eye, we hoofed it out a back door into some dense shrubs on the other side of the path. The daemon now curled under a fattish tree outside the house was not apparently the only one my odd companion had been after, for soon an even larger daemon and a few smaller ones came up and saddened around their dead friend. Why they were undesirables, or daemons, according to my ballistic accompanist, is beyond my knowing, especially since they seemed more like golems of stone than preternatural snarks. In any case, the whole thing looked rather like Sadrith Mora.

Further exposition:

4-1-12 Dreams about babies: how do they work [interrobang]

First, L had, in a sunlit unfinished house on black blankets, a tiny child (it was all two-by-fours and plywood). Then Auntie had a similar infant-bundle, male, as she lay on the bottom bunk in the spare room at Dad's house.

Further exposition: Is that all, folks?