Friday, June 24, 2011

Dreams Of My Ancestral Future

[Recorded on the 28th of May, the year 2011.]

I dreamed last night that we were all members of a jungle settlement in Latin America. Our houses had all the comforts of upscale, modern homes, but they were built high up within the thickness of the trees. The season was wet, and people dressed in big, canvas coats, with many layers. On the ground, there were squares marked out for people to wrestle and joust. People watched and ate gummy snacks in aluminum paper packaging.

My house resembled my house, as in waking life. [Jack] was performing some kind of experiment with a seed: with a drop of water, it rapidly grew into a two-headed serpent. It was extremely agitated and ready to attack anything, both of its mouths wide open. It managed to bite a visitor who happened to be standing in our room - a white settler named Benjamin. He was extremely fair, with long, white-blond hair, a burgundy scarf, and a canvas coat in army green. There were some others in the settlement with hair like his.

The snake slithered under my knees, and I was afraid it was going to bite me, but [Jack] pulled it away by its tail, grabbing hold of both heads. In its wrath, venom dripped from its fangs and managed to land on my forearm. It burned, but it did nothing more than that.

While [Jack] disposed of the snake, I took Benjamin upstairs and injected him with an antivenom from a first aid kit in a weathered metal box. I was competent with the needle. He started to get pretty loopy, though whether it was from the venom or the injection, I don't know. My mother giggled at his intoxicated speech, in her endeared, motherly way. He would be fine.

* * *

I was the member of an expedition on the coast of Puerto Rico. I say expedition, but our role was mostly to guard the oil rig workers and their families. The ocean was dotted with many industrial structures and ships. But people had not lived on this beach for very long, not even a month. It was a temporary settlement - we were set to explore the wilderness further inland for more permanent sites. The settlers moved with us.

The sky was overcast, and the breeze behind me was persistent. I wore a thick vinyl coat, a knit hat, and many layers. I walked across the white sand with a slender rifle in my hands. I was quickly approaching a body of water that was the same lovely turquoise as the sea. I was filled with anticipation; I had heard rumors of a bay in this area, but part of me hoped it was freshwater. I wasn't more than fifty yards away when I noticed a strange wave in the air, a glimmer that you only see when the sun's heat is bouncing off the rocks. I turned to face the wind and caught the sickly sweet odor of petroleum. Fearing what this meant, I immediately headed back to the encampment. The fumes became stronger, choking me, the closer I got. I covered my mouth with my scarf, and my eyes with my arm.

It was late afternoon when I returned. One of the colossal tankers, suspended by a crane for maintenance, had caught fire. The whole ship was burning. As day turned to night, the leaders of the expedition gathered round the families to begin our migration upwind. Our greatest concern was for the small children. One man stood on a crate to make these announcements. Behind him we could plainly see the ship, glowing orange against the blue of the evening.

* * *

I am the Queen of Spain. I have granted audience to a few dozen nobles. For some reason - probably some whim of mine - I am standing, casually, in the center of my court. The sun illuminates everything at an angle from a sparkling, glass-paneled ceiling. The air is humid.

One man is expressing outrage at the fact that I am allowing pirate trade on my coasts. I imperiously dismiss his concerns and turn away from him, swaying the bustle of my burgundy gown as I ascend the steps of my throne. I sit, and in one graceful movement of my left hand, I calmly retrieve and open a bejeweled, oriental fan. The rubies glitter as I fan myself, smiling at my challenger. He is speechless.

Thursday, June 23, 2011

All The Most Prurient Punks Have Tumblrs

I've embedded my tumblr way down at the bottom of my blog here - not sure if it's annoying or not. (Feel free to let me know.) I sure do like being reminded of Kunihiko Ikuhara's leather catsuit, though.

By the way, if you're reading this, P. Sufenas - it appears that Tumblr hosts the "youth crossover audience" we've been looking for. Tumblr loves Antinous!

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

"The Young Witches of Salem"

From Boston.com: Web-based reality series about Salem witches set to begin filming in August.

From the article alone, I might not think anything of it. The producer sounds like a reasonable enough man who wants to dispel some negative stereotypes about (eclectic) Wiccans.

But I saw the commercial for this months ago. I thought it was for a store.



I can never not laugh when it gets to the third woman. (To her credit, I think she's being funny on purpose.)

Honestly, they all seem like pretty nice gals. And they're certainly better dressed than Fiona Horne. I'm just not expecting anything other than the standard fare.