Dreams unwind, love's a state of mind
Dec. 20th, 2004 06:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mundensSo, it seems the dreams come in seams
Like gold, in the cold of winters auld.
There I was, on a school trip, with my Best Friend (cue Queen's electric piano)
It was a bush walk of the Ghost in the Shell kind. My friend and I were operating a kind of spider-like walking machine, similar to the contraptions in GitS. To move fast we had to pound our legs up and down in sync, and as it turned out, avoid the foliage and maintain balance over the rough ground. We were right on the tutor's tail, and he was plaeased with us keeeping up, having left most ofo the class way behind.
It was obvious the whole point of the exercise was in working together as a team, I warned my friend of a pointed branch that could have hit him as we crested the ridge and he swayed around it as I balanced his sway by overcorrecting in my sway back, and we locked feet and came to a scraping halt next to the teacher's machine, tired sweaty and jubilant. The tutor beamed at us. "You two will do alright" he said "Wait here while I round up the stragglers. Don't cross the road."
We saw that at the crest of the hill, there was a road which delineated the forest from a built-up area. It had a white concrete curb and we practiced using the spider walker to step up and down the curb while we waited.
I heard a sound of rushing pressurised air. It was a combination wave front and drive sound, as a cool-looking Wing VTOLed in overhead and landed with flair behind a building in the built up area. It was type we'd never seen before, and my friend and I speculated over whether it might be the new Eurofighter every one was talking about. We spent time in idle speculation as to whether we might get to see it, as the rest of the class straggled in.
Finally, everyone was in. A roar, and a huge transport vehicle went past at several hundred miles an hour, mere inches (it seemed ) from the front legs of our spider.
"I told you guys to stay out of the road" said the tutor.
I was too shaken to correct him, but I thought to myself that the tutor needed to be more accurate with his warnings.
The teacher led us across the road into an old brick building. Somehow, perhaps because I had an itinary in my head, I knew that this was the Caxton Police Sation, site of a major battle during the last riots. We looked at the ancient brickwork and iron railings and I remarked to my freind "This place is indefensible!"
I was already thinking that the massacre wasn't the police's fault, it was the designer's, who would design a police Station like this so that it wasn't defensible? It was almost like they wanted people to b e able to get in!
I was wandering round with my friend, pointing out how there were blind areas where defenders in the building couldn't cover the dead ground in front of the building properly. The railings were too low to prevent people from jumping them and even with men behind them (who would have been exposed to incoming fire) it would have been difficult to stop people crossing them.
The tutor set me straight, he pointed out that neither side was armed with more than mele weapons and a few home- made explosives. "The police had a water cannon parked right there...." he said, and I was incredulous. "Water?" I asked "but that's only good for cutting close to the blade tip! It disperses too much to be a useful ranged weapon in atmosphere!"
There was more similar to that, me being incredulous of ancient policing techniques that involved non-lethal force.
Then we continued our "school trip", which involved a visit to the local American cultural exhange base, where I had an interesting discussion with the local CIA representative who looked exactly like Jason Alexander.
It included lines like, from Jason :
"The CIA didn't use tailored biologicals or pharmaceuticals in action until 2035"
To which I replied "But what about it's use of psychoactive chemicals against the Black Panthers in the 1960's, and the deployment of Agent Orange in Vietnam?"
Jason says "Oh they don't count, those weren't what I'd call "tailored", I mean gene-coded to target only specific enemy combatants, that sort of thing.."
We moved on, it was time to meet American school kids. We were ushered into a cramped classroom which was almost impossible to move around in due to the built in desks and bench seats. Old technology, maybe subject of a preservation order?
We saw two blonde girls, perfect Barbie patterns, like most of the American girls you see these days, but our age, and trying unsuccesfully to hide a joint. "Hah" we were thinking, kids will be kids, even perfect American Barbies, and maybe this meet would be fun after all.
"Don't Bogart that joint, my friend, pass it on to me" I sang the old song, to indicate to the Barbies that we didn't care if they got stoned, and wouldn't mind if we joined them. They smiled, and one said "We'd heard you Brits were all gay abolitionists?"
"Nothing could be further from the truth" I quip, sliding onto the bench next to the closest Barbie, touching her bare thigh deliberately, while taking a hit from her joint.
"And they're not teeny either!" giggles the other Barbie indicating the stretching in my friend's shorts.
In the back of my mind I know that this sort of behaviour has been actively encouraged by the state and school, if we get the Barbies impregnated, the school will get a stud fee, and we are considered lucky to be asked to participate, it means the Americans consider our genetic materiel top notch! They need all they can get in the Americas after all, but they still prefer getting good stuff.
I remember Tutor telling us of a time when tutors went out of the way to prevent sexual liasons and partying between students, especially with cultural exchange students. But these days we need all the kids we can get.
We all troop out to a bus, the four of us, my friend and the two Barbies, surreptitiously passing the joint between us we go, and glom the rear seat, where we sprawl, intertwined with tanned limbs and golden hair, ready for some more "cultural exchange".
Then I hear a voice. It said "Hey Boy" in exactly the same tone and inflection as that used in the song "Hey girl, don't bother me". I know this because I immediately thought of the song, not a song that you would normally think of, and probably not one that most of you have ever heard of, it not having been re-made recently.
At this I awoke. Almost exactly twenty seconds before my alarm went off.
My first sight on awakening was of the dots counting down and the digits flashng from 6.44 to 6.45!
So that's this morning's dream, at least as accurately as I can remember it.
Now some of the parts are obvious as I watched bits of Ghost in the Shell - Stand Alone Complex and Escaflowne the Movie yesterday.
Woke up to my two best girls, Ele and Shady, both of whom were cuddly and purry and warm.
On leave in a couple of days, party tomorrow, whee!
Like gold, in the cold of winters auld.
There I was, on a school trip, with my Best Friend (cue Queen's electric piano)
It was a bush walk of the Ghost in the Shell kind. My friend and I were operating a kind of spider-like walking machine, similar to the contraptions in GitS. To move fast we had to pound our legs up and down in sync, and as it turned out, avoid the foliage and maintain balance over the rough ground. We were right on the tutor's tail, and he was plaeased with us keeeping up, having left most ofo the class way behind.
It was obvious the whole point of the exercise was in working together as a team, I warned my friend of a pointed branch that could have hit him as we crested the ridge and he swayed around it as I balanced his sway by overcorrecting in my sway back, and we locked feet and came to a scraping halt next to the teacher's machine, tired sweaty and jubilant. The tutor beamed at us. "You two will do alright" he said "Wait here while I round up the stragglers. Don't cross the road."
We saw that at the crest of the hill, there was a road which delineated the forest from a built-up area. It had a white concrete curb and we practiced using the spider walker to step up and down the curb while we waited.
I heard a sound of rushing pressurised air. It was a combination wave front and drive sound, as a cool-looking Wing VTOLed in overhead and landed with flair behind a building in the built up area. It was type we'd never seen before, and my friend and I speculated over whether it might be the new Eurofighter every one was talking about. We spent time in idle speculation as to whether we might get to see it, as the rest of the class straggled in.
Finally, everyone was in. A roar, and a huge transport vehicle went past at several hundred miles an hour, mere inches (it seemed ) from the front legs of our spider.
"I told you guys to stay out of the road" said the tutor.
I was too shaken to correct him, but I thought to myself that the tutor needed to be more accurate with his warnings.
The teacher led us across the road into an old brick building. Somehow, perhaps because I had an itinary in my head, I knew that this was the Caxton Police Sation, site of a major battle during the last riots. We looked at the ancient brickwork and iron railings and I remarked to my freind "This place is indefensible!"
I was already thinking that the massacre wasn't the police's fault, it was the designer's, who would design a police Station like this so that it wasn't defensible? It was almost like they wanted people to b e able to get in!
I was wandering round with my friend, pointing out how there were blind areas where defenders in the building couldn't cover the dead ground in front of the building properly. The railings were too low to prevent people from jumping them and even with men behind them (who would have been exposed to incoming fire) it would have been difficult to stop people crossing them.
The tutor set me straight, he pointed out that neither side was armed with more than mele weapons and a few home- made explosives. "The police had a water cannon parked right there...." he said, and I was incredulous. "Water?" I asked "but that's only good for cutting close to the blade tip! It disperses too much to be a useful ranged weapon in atmosphere!"
There was more similar to that, me being incredulous of ancient policing techniques that involved non-lethal force.
Then we continued our "school trip", which involved a visit to the local American cultural exhange base, where I had an interesting discussion with the local CIA representative who looked exactly like Jason Alexander.
It included lines like, from Jason :
"The CIA didn't use tailored biologicals or pharmaceuticals in action until 2035"
To which I replied "But what about it's use of psychoactive chemicals against the Black Panthers in the 1960's, and the deployment of Agent Orange in Vietnam?"
Jason says "Oh they don't count, those weren't what I'd call "tailored", I mean gene-coded to target only specific enemy combatants, that sort of thing.."
We moved on, it was time to meet American school kids. We were ushered into a cramped classroom which was almost impossible to move around in due to the built in desks and bench seats. Old technology, maybe subject of a preservation order?
We saw two blonde girls, perfect Barbie patterns, like most of the American girls you see these days, but our age, and trying unsuccesfully to hide a joint. "Hah" we were thinking, kids will be kids, even perfect American Barbies, and maybe this meet would be fun after all.
"Don't Bogart that joint, my friend, pass it on to me" I sang the old song, to indicate to the Barbies that we didn't care if they got stoned, and wouldn't mind if we joined them. They smiled, and one said "We'd heard you Brits were all gay abolitionists?"
"Nothing could be further from the truth" I quip, sliding onto the bench next to the closest Barbie, touching her bare thigh deliberately, while taking a hit from her joint.
"And they're not teeny either!" giggles the other Barbie indicating the stretching in my friend's shorts.
In the back of my mind I know that this sort of behaviour has been actively encouraged by the state and school, if we get the Barbies impregnated, the school will get a stud fee, and we are considered lucky to be asked to participate, it means the Americans consider our genetic materiel top notch! They need all they can get in the Americas after all, but they still prefer getting good stuff.
I remember Tutor telling us of a time when tutors went out of the way to prevent sexual liasons and partying between students, especially with cultural exchange students. But these days we need all the kids we can get.
We all troop out to a bus, the four of us, my friend and the two Barbies, surreptitiously passing the joint between us we go, and glom the rear seat, where we sprawl, intertwined with tanned limbs and golden hair, ready for some more "cultural exchange".
Then I hear a voice. It said "Hey Boy" in exactly the same tone and inflection as that used in the song "Hey girl, don't bother me". I know this because I immediately thought of the song, not a song that you would normally think of, and probably not one that most of you have ever heard of, it not having been re-made recently.
At this I awoke. Almost exactly twenty seconds before my alarm went off.
My first sight on awakening was of the dots counting down and the digits flashng from 6.44 to 6.45!
So that's this morning's dream, at least as accurately as I can remember it.
Now some of the parts are obvious as I watched bits of Ghost in the Shell - Stand Alone Complex and Escaflowne the Movie yesterday.
Woke up to my two best girls, Ele and Shady, both of whom were cuddly and purry and warm.
On leave in a couple of days, party tomorrow, whee!
