Monday, February 22, 2010

The Horrormaster Within

I've long wanted to study dream interpretation, in large part because I am blessed and cursed by several series of recurring dreams. In one series, I fly or drive into a mountain town on a lake in Colorado, though the town feels more like an elaborate European city--a cross between Venice and Prague and Nice, complete with slums and scary people lurking in the shadows. In another, I try to smuggle a baby out of India with a circus troupe of angry dwarves in hot pursuit. In yet another, I make my way north via trains and subways and shopping malls(!) to Canada, while evading an armed police force. The common thread, though, is that someone is coming for me. Someone works hard to stop me. And sometimes that someone wants me dead.

Not all are series dreams, though. Most of my dreams seem to stand alone. Some are even quite joyful. However, once in a while I suspect my subconscious harbors an aspiring horror filmmaker whose creative outlet is to flood my dreams with troubled mash-ups of whatever movies have recently caught his attention. For example, shortly after seeing Jacob's Ladder back in the early nineties, my subconscious outdid this creepy scene--and not just by a little, but by a mile.

This weekend I watched the sweet HBO biopic on the life of Temple Grandin. Riveting performance by Clare Danes. Powerful story. Totally manipulative storytelling, but the manipulation worked: I shed a tear. Maybe two. Not content to merely enjoy the movie, though, when I went to sleep that night the horrormeister within thrust me into autism (making me unable to process images at full speed, but in snapshot pictures a la Grandin). The horrormeister stood me in some dark room, chained me to the wall, and subjected me to a bizarre sexual assault involving dirty men shoving fruits and vegetables into my navel, thankyouverymuch.

Thought I'd share.

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