The Attempted Theft of Dreams
For me, ideas visit. Hard to describe.
I’m settling in to watching the latest Star Trek Discovery episode, and in that tale was an idea of a certain type of crystal, simultaneously exploding at the same time all over the universe, killing millions.
I wondered whether such kind of change is happening now.
Part of the reason, I use the term “the collective imagination”, is that to my experience artists are visionaries, and most of them make fantastic imaginative works. Thinking in images of this kind is seeing the dreaming of humanity in real time. As I write this, the 2020 Halloween Full Moon is casting its lights into the darker roots of our fantasies.
The wondered question drew a trail of thoughts – resting for a moment on an odd memory of growing up in Montana, in the 1950’s. There was a nest of feelings, given the existence at that time of the so-called: Cold War. Between sirens going off, and ducking under our desks, we had film of atomic explosions come with the News, seen over the tv tables where we ate dinner.
Our town, Great Falls, was the epicenter of a 1500 “field” of ballistic missile silos. My father was one of the town leaders courted by the Air Force, to help “sell” the situation. Farmers got well paid for a couple of acres of land, and a few access roads.
As kids, we got a bull’s-eye painted on our dreams.
The question of massive simultaneous explosions of crystals of power at the same time, met and married the memory.
What are we doing to our children’s dreams? The very-scary threat of death stalks the land, meanwhile the completely incompetent adults are full on oh my god the sky is falling.
We thought the black vs. white issue was bad. Now we’ve got mask or no mask, followed by take the shot or end up in a camp.
Certain of the Gods are laughing their asses off.
If you are a film buff, you might be aware of certain darker themes, each finding truly terrifying end of everything tales. These share in common the loss of control that comes when society falls quickly into pieces. Families separated, danger everywhere, fight or flight. Monsters too big to comprehend, others so tiny, and/or invisible, how to protect, where to flee, … dreams of a world of dread and loss …
Fortunately, in spite of the shame being heaped upon them, the young – as was their human duty – said: go screw yourself, and I’m going to eat, drink, and be merry, for – as you keep singing, so operatically to us – tomorrow you may die.
So, the doctor tells his patient, that if he wants to live ten more years he has to stop drinking and smoking. The patient replies: Why would I want to live, if I can’t smoke and drink?
The TV I watch while writing, intoxicated as usual, is full of PBS talking heads prognosticating on the coming election. Lots to worry about. Some declare Biden will win, while others write that in 2016 the polls were all wrong.
Me, pushing 80’, wonder if it will get so bad that I have to again take up the gun, like the first time I was here for history. The second time, I hung out where people died in seas of blood and shame.
My sword, today, a pen. The blood the same. Here’ a tall tale to read to your children at night: “Bicycles – a children’s Christmas Story for Adults” http://ipwebdev.com/hermit/bcyls.html
Here’s story of going into the Underworld, given October thoughts: “a Message in a Bottle, found on the Dark Sands of the Seas of Morpheus” http://ipwebdev.com/hermit/message.html