A peek inside my subconscious is always an unpleasant experience. I don’t dream often and remember clearly what I dreamt even less often. I must have had a rough night last night.
In the first episode of our late-night triple feature I was doing precisely what I’d been doing that evening: practicing drill with some pals. In the midst of that happy activity the world was suddenly invaded by Recognizers from TRON. Apparently some mad genius was looking for someone and decided the most efficient way to do that was to have Recognizers descend from the sky, smash everything flat and scan every inch of the world’s surface. Damned frightening. It was like being in the first – good – half of the most recent War of the Worlds.
From that we segued to playing hide and seek down the side of a mountain with a guy from work and a witch. Somehow that turned into a chase, scrambling down through a steep woods with this sorceress throwing rocks at me in a vain attempt to tag me “out.”
The last episode somehow involved a footrace, my car left at work and needing to bum a ride – with my family – from a relatively attractive, elfin blonde in a minivan. That turned into a mad dash through the streets of State College, a near accident and my arriving in the office at 7:30 in the morning unaware of what I was doing there.
I can see some themes that make sense in that mess: being hunted, the presumed deaths of family members, State College. Overall my subconscious strikes me as being like the guy’s brain in Strange Days after it’s been overloaded. Static-y, and badly in need of a horizontal hold adjustment.