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Long, very elaborate dream last night that took a turn for the meta.
I dreamt that I was in the reboot Star Trek, specifically that I was Kirk. Spock and I first met on ship to Mars. He had never been to Mars before, I had never (consciously) been off Earth.
We landed in the middle of the desert and had a conversation about the similarities between Mars and Vulcan, and I expressed my desperate (and kind of pathetic) desire to visit Vulcan. I also had some trouble with the gravity, having never been off-world before. (Now there's something Star Trek never addresses. Somehow every planet is exactly the same mass as Earth?) I crouched and sifted the sand between my fingers, and realized that there was something beneath. I dug down and found a cache of tools left by some of the original explorers. Spock chastised me for not following archaeological procedure in disturbing them, and I declared that they were recent enough it didn't count as archaeology (but guiltily took a picture with my tricorder/Blackberry anyway).
We were meant to meet some people who were at some kind of base at the top of a distant dune/hill, and set off on foot. We saw them come out of the building, tiny little specks in the distance. They were waving like crazy, so we waved back. It took a minute or two to figure out that they were not trying to greet us, but were trying to get us to turn around. We finally did so and realized that the spaceship was actually parked on the edge of the coastline and a massive ocean ship was bearing straight down on us. We ran back down the beach the way we came and the ship plowed up onto the shore right where we had been.
Shaken, we got back on the spaceship and decided to visit Mercury. Mercury turned out to be a giant (but far too small to be planet-sized) open-framework globe made of criss-crossing rings of rusted metal. Hung in the rings were antique, smaller metal globes with multiple, even smaller globes of solid ceramic hung inside. These were apparently representative of some kind of dangerous knowledge that we had worked out during the Renaissance (maybe nuclear-related?). I was kind of proud of them, and Spock was gently contemptuous of our human backwardness. But I suddenly realized that something was causing us to hallucinate--little dragons and comets made of light were shooting out. I realized that we were in grave danger, and we really needed to get farther away from the sun because we couldn't trust our eyes and might blunder into the sun by accident.
Which is how we suddenly found ourselves on Earth in Europe during the Renaissance. With no other way to disguise ourselves, we put on plague doctor costumes and wandered into the crowd, trying to figure out how we would ever get home.
And then I turned the page, and it was all the credits for the writer and artist and inker for the story. I closed the book, and started to get a serious case of fridge logic. That was a terrible ending! They just left it at that? What, was this some kind of pretentious literary thing? Also, wait a second--where did that ocean come from? Everyone knows that Mars doesn't have oceans! This book is awful!
I turned to my mom, who was reading the same book. (But reads at a normal-person pace and so wasn't finished yet.) I angrily exclaimed that it was a terrible book, and she shouldn't bother finishing it. Or at least, she should know that the ending was entirely unsatisfactory. See, this is why we needed to not read the same book at the same time--I need to read them first, so I can tell her if the book is any good or not.
Then I woke up.
There was also another dream in which I needed to buy a second floor harp because my teacher said I should have one to practice on and one to perform on. It seemed terribly expensive, but what are you going to do. The luthier didn't originally think I had the money (she originally thought that I was a drug-addicted punk or something, because I was too young and poor looking to buy a harp), but when I explained the model of harp I already had, she realized that I knew what I was talking about. Dunno what that was all about.
I dreamt that I was in the reboot Star Trek, specifically that I was Kirk. Spock and I first met on ship to Mars. He had never been to Mars before, I had never (consciously) been off Earth.
We landed in the middle of the desert and had a conversation about the similarities between Mars and Vulcan, and I expressed my desperate (and kind of pathetic) desire to visit Vulcan. I also had some trouble with the gravity, having never been off-world before. (Now there's something Star Trek never addresses. Somehow every planet is exactly the same mass as Earth?) I crouched and sifted the sand between my fingers, and realized that there was something beneath. I dug down and found a cache of tools left by some of the original explorers. Spock chastised me for not following archaeological procedure in disturbing them, and I declared that they were recent enough it didn't count as archaeology (but guiltily took a picture with my tricorder/Blackberry anyway).
We were meant to meet some people who were at some kind of base at the top of a distant dune/hill, and set off on foot. We saw them come out of the building, tiny little specks in the distance. They were waving like crazy, so we waved back. It took a minute or two to figure out that they were not trying to greet us, but were trying to get us to turn around. We finally did so and realized that the spaceship was actually parked on the edge of the coastline and a massive ocean ship was bearing straight down on us. We ran back down the beach the way we came and the ship plowed up onto the shore right where we had been.
Shaken, we got back on the spaceship and decided to visit Mercury. Mercury turned out to be a giant (but far too small to be planet-sized) open-framework globe made of criss-crossing rings of rusted metal. Hung in the rings were antique, smaller metal globes with multiple, even smaller globes of solid ceramic hung inside. These were apparently representative of some kind of dangerous knowledge that we had worked out during the Renaissance (maybe nuclear-related?). I was kind of proud of them, and Spock was gently contemptuous of our human backwardness. But I suddenly realized that something was causing us to hallucinate--little dragons and comets made of light were shooting out. I realized that we were in grave danger, and we really needed to get farther away from the sun because we couldn't trust our eyes and might blunder into the sun by accident.
Which is how we suddenly found ourselves on Earth in Europe during the Renaissance. With no other way to disguise ourselves, we put on plague doctor costumes and wandered into the crowd, trying to figure out how we would ever get home.
And then I turned the page, and it was all the credits for the writer and artist and inker for the story. I closed the book, and started to get a serious case of fridge logic. That was a terrible ending! They just left it at that? What, was this some kind of pretentious literary thing? Also, wait a second--where did that ocean come from? Everyone knows that Mars doesn't have oceans! This book is awful!
I turned to my mom, who was reading the same book. (But reads at a normal-person pace and so wasn't finished yet.) I angrily exclaimed that it was a terrible book, and she shouldn't bother finishing it. Or at least, she should know that the ending was entirely unsatisfactory. See, this is why we needed to not read the same book at the same time--I need to read them first, so I can tell her if the book is any good or not.
Then I woke up.
There was also another dream in which I needed to buy a second floor harp because my teacher said I should have one to practice on and one to perform on. It seemed terribly expensive, but what are you going to do. The luthier didn't originally think I had the money (she originally thought that I was a drug-addicted punk or something, because I was too young and poor looking to buy a harp), but when I explained the model of harp I already had, she realized that I knew what I was talking about. Dunno what that was all about.
