|First Dream: |
A giant manlike monkey/gorilla rides an elephant through a dimly lit barn that's open on both ends. Invisible people in the barn applaud. I'm walking backward next to the elephant's head, looking up.
The man and his daughter in charge of seeing that the monkey behaves itself throw purple plastic glow-tubes and strings of threaded confetti up at it. It flings the humiliating mess away, annoyed, but its handlers think it's playing, performing, enjoying this.
I woke briefly in the dark and was lying still, thinking about getting up and making something to eat. Just as I was about to move, Juanita half-woke and said to the air, "That won't work."
I said, "What won't work?"
She said, "To put your -- put his feet up on the...thing."
I said, "I'll think about it, then, before I put my feet up on the thing."
She said, "Okay."
I was falling from the dirty sky over a Chicago-like city. Juanita was falling next to me, and she was amused at our predicament. She said, "How would you solve this"? Ah-hah, a test.
The city was so polluted there was a lot of garbage-bag plastic in the air, floating around like fly-ash, so I started diving at sections and collecting it. Maybe we could sit on it or make a parachute out of it or something, and if we landed in the water...I set us both up with little, ineffectual parachutes.
I ended up losing sight of Juanita over the desert next to Chicago and
sailing horizontally into a tall forest, frightening the 14-foot-tall gorilla people. I knew they'd kill me, so I bluffed it out-- yelling at the top of my lungs as I flew right into the middle of their city and rolled to a stop in the mud.
The gorilla people had big, round, brown, saucer eyes. I would be their king!
I'm introduced to a child-art-prodigy retarded boy and shown his really quite good colored-pencil drawing of a two-headed monster, part sea-monster, part Neanderthal man, part wolf. It's S-shaped, standing-sitting with its paws up. Both Neanderthal-man heads face the same way; one's on the front of the hump in the middle of the creature's back, the other's in the usual place, above the begging paws. The faces are stupid but hopeful.
The drawing is quickly taken away by the boy's caregivers as if it was a mistake that I was allowed to see it, and instead I'm shown the sad, jerkily-animated story of a small boy who loves the giant shaggy gorilla who takes care of him. A gang of armed vigilantes moves through foggy coastal hills to kill the harmless gorilla. There's nothing I can do about this eventuality. It's the way things always go, is the implied message. I pretend to agree with this.
Genetically engineered, shiny, glowing, childish bear/monkey serf creatures polish fittings and police up and repair the use-disordered control and chart room of a giant blimp while the crew and passengers sleep back in their quarters. One bear/monkey cub flops over and goes instantly into REM sleep, receiving the information that there's danger down on the island below -- danger for all blimps -- some sneaky hi-tech plot against blimpkind. The bear/monkeys have credibility with the new-age-inclined admiralty because it's recently been discovered that they dream prodigiously, and they weren't designed to do so.
Eartha Kitt, captain of another blimp, is here to decide who to send down on a hang-glider to solve the plot. The bear/monkeys all say, "You go! You go!" to a young, wide-eyed lieutenant.
Now I'm both the young lieutenant and myself watching from outside. This is a science-fiction teevee show about the near future of the CargoLifter company, maybe 2012 or 2017. [At the time of this dream CargoLifter A.G. was a real-life German company that worked to develop cargo blimp service with real-life giant high-tech blimps. They've since gone bankrupt.]
I watch a psychology experiment where there are two twelve-year-old boys, one on each side of a room, and a monkey in the middle. Over their heads is an articulated scaffold of planks and hinges and ropes and pulleys, and there are three volleyballs up there, one for each contestant.
The boy on the right wins by climbing to his ball rather than by using the wing-pulley-puppet-board arrangement. Flushed with victory he wants to play again immediately. This time he steals the ball before it can even be put back up there. The other boy grabs at it. They wrestle over it. The other boy has the ball now.
I stand on the dirt embankment above the parking lot in front of Del Oro high school with the two boys and the monkey. They all have gotten the lesson that it's better to work for something because that way you always get something. (Even if you don't get what you worked for, at least you learned a lesson about how much better it is to work for it.)