« Quatermass and the shiny thing. | Main | Say what you want but you don't look good alone. »

January 26, 2004

Actions, with unforeseen consequences.

It became unsafe to dream in the early part of the 21st century. I don't mean that in some tedious stripey-jumpered shag-and-slash film sense - there wouldn't be some git in a hat waiting for you like you'd left your super-ego parked on a double yellow too long and you'd have to survive on your lizard-brain 'til you could get to the depot and hand over the tithe.

People just became... Lost. They'd report a set of increasingly disturbing phenomena, almost like pirate wireless breaking into the pastorality and cake-appreciation of the cricket with bad American industrial music, and then they'd... Not come back one night. I mean they were walking around and eating food and talking as much rubbish as ever, it's just that they weren't there somehow. Whatever essential thing that made them... Them... Was missing, presumed wandering some part of the dreamscape.

So we went in there with headfuls of acid and big flightcases full of meteorology gear, tethered ourselves to baseline reality with a chain of pure logic and got on with the job of mapping the weather of the collective unconsciousness. It's not a task fit for anyone with any attachment to normality - the sole way to loft the balloons is by thinking hard with a psyche (un)picked from the (un)reality by an (un)healthy dose of LSD-25. Only then they can float freely among the currents and eddies of the dreamscape. I suspect that few of us have any desire to return, if only because it will be nearly impossible to function in 'reality'.

Posted by Hirez at January 26, 2004 11:45 PM


Post a comment

Remember Me?