Journal
I had a dream about an ancient Greek giant called Pyttheus (I know it can't be spelled like that, but it was in the dream). He was a towering bronze statue, as tall as two houses, with an Alexander the Great-like helmet and a pair of shields fused to his hands that were turned curiously inwards so that he could clap them together like cymbals. He walked among the normal people on the streets (a location unknown to me, but clearly in the modern era) with the normal-sized humans occasionally acknowledging him with a wave or a nod, but otherwise it was clear that his presence was unremarkable to them. The indifference to his presence became even more surprising to me when he stooped down to look at one of the humans and lined his huge shields up on either side of him as he turned to face the giant... with a quick movement, Pyttheus crushed his head between the shields - with no noise and no mess, just the headless body dropping to the ground underneath. He got up and did the same thing to several other apparently randomly chosen people who were walking around, and two who were stopped on the side of the road having a conversation - who all reacted without alarm but what I would actually, bizarrely describe as pleasant surprise as he prepared to close his shields around their heads. Even though I didn't speak to anyone in this dream, somehow I then gained the knowledge that being selected by Pyttheus was an honour, and something that was a guaranteed ticket to a good afterlife. For some reason I chose to have it done to me - the ancient statue apparently being available by arrangement as well as on his own whims - and the event was arranged at a small pub in the middle of a monastery. It was set up like a celebration - I was lined up in front of the bar along with an unidentified friend and a girl from the bar who had decided to join in as well on the spur of the moment, being cheered on by the rest of the pub's occupants like we were about to perform a particularly popular karaoke song rather than be killed. Out of nowhere, that large Korean man that sings Gangnam Style arrived in a bright yellow suit and proceeded to bounce around as the night's entertainment as the festivities began, and being first in the line, I heard Pyttheus kneel down behind me and then felt the shields press gently but firmly against the sides of my face as he prepared to clap them together. Then, suddenly, despite having shown no fear at all up until that moment, I ran - and the rest of the dream was a blur of leaping over walls and obstacles until I reached my parents' house, where I realized that nobody was giving chase. Then I remembered that I had had the plan all along to create a scenario where I could make a thrilling escape from the monestary without severe consequences if I was caught, so that I could recreate Rise of the Triad. That dream sort of ended with an anticlimax - so I also had another dream where I was a passenger with the Top Gear team as they prepared to send a car into the lower reaches of space with a Zeppelin-style balloon attached to the top. The test flight around a harbour and through a carefully-arranged stack of shipping crates went very well, but after being off the ground with them once, I refused to take part in the final flight. Knowing how well their grand projects usually turn out, I still consider this a wise decision even outside the bounds of dream logic. 2012-12-17 13:01:00 11 comments |