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So I had this dream...

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  • So I had this dream...

    I'd been banned from the Moonbeam Roads because my presence was too much of a disruption. So I was sitiing in a some kind of old-fashioned Victorian train station when someone I believed to be Mike himself told me I should have stayed in another story, since I had a larger (and surprising) role to play.

    He then told me I could switch places with someone already in that story, and so take my proper place. But before I found out what it was, I woke up.

    Anythingt I need to know, Mr. Moorcock? ;)
    Best/Mario

  • #3
    Aye aye, pard.

    Feel free to bring Walter along. I still owe him a dinner. :)
    Best/Mario

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    • #4
      Mike, Im afraid it disturbs me a little to know that you can enter my dreams any time you wish to. Just dont abuse the privilage okay? :lol:

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      • #5
        Perhaps there should be another line?

        'I can read your mind like a magazine;
        I can see in your eyes: I know what you mean.
        I get all the secrets that you'd rather keep;
        I walk through your mind when you think you're asleep'

        Except the instrumental bridge would have started by then, of course.... :)

        I know this isn't profound or anything, but I always feel it's wonderful how an idea can zip into someone's mind, get processed, slapped on paper, and then pop up in someone else's head many miles and years later. It is thought transference! Somehow more 'magical' than talking directly. Even more exciting, perhaps, is a medium like this here forum - I can have a concept whilst pedalling along over Kew Bridge and get that impression into someone's mind in Leeds, or Texas, or Tokyo within a few minutes. I think it's the 'analysability' of written words that makes them more satisfying than a 'phone conversation. Hum. :roll:

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        • #6
          "There's more to life than books, but not much more...

          Morrissey
          \"...an ape reft of his tail, and grown rusty at climbing, who yet feels himself to be a symbol and the frail representative of Omnipotence in a place that is not home.\" James Branch Cabell

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          • #7
            Gotta Love the Morrissey. Especially Morrissey when he was in the Smiths.

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            • #8
              I'm not sure If I've ever dreamed about a Mike character, but I had a few dreams about the Peake Titus series when I read it. I had one that Steerpike was helping me break into houses on my old street and complaining about the sun saying "i hate the old treacle bun".

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              • #9
                Originally posted by xidrep View Post
                Perhaps there should be another line?

                'I can read your mind like a magazine;
                I can see in your eyes: I know what you mean.
                I get all the secrets that you'd rather keep;
                I walk through your mind when you think you're asleep'

                Except the instrumental bridge would have started by then, of course.... :)

                I know this isn't profound or anything, but I always feel it's wonderful how an idea can zip into someone's mind, get processed, slapped on paper, and then pop up in someone else's head many miles and years later. It is thought transference! Somehow more 'magical' than talking directly. Even more exciting, perhaps, is a medium like this here forum - I can have a concept whilst pedalling along over Kew Bridge and get that impression into someone's mind in Leeds, or Texas, or Tokyo within a few minutes. I think it's the 'analysability' of written words that makes them more satisfying than a 'phone conversation. Hum. :roll:
                I am the eye in the sky, looking at you
                I can [write] your mind
                I am the maker of rules, dealing with fools
                I can cheat you blind
                scares me witless. Every now and then I remember dreams where I am paralysed by something or other and cannot move even to save people I love. The idea that someone can write my mind as well as read it, without needing to inform me, is one of the most terrifying thoughts I can have.
                sigpic Myself as Mephistopheles (Karen Koed's painting of me, 9 Nov 2008, U of Canterbury, CHCH, NZ)

                Gold is the power of a man with a man
                And incense the power of man with God
                But myrrh is the bitter taste of death
                And the sour-sweet smell of the upturned sod,

                Nativity,
                by Peter Cape

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                • #10
                  sleep paralysis ...had a few of those growing up
                  sigpic

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                  • #11
                    I found out after a recent operation that required a general anaesthetic that I suffer from sleep apnoea.

                    I'm a bit of a snorer but normally stop when the long suffering Mrs PV gives me a poke. However, when I was under the GA I stopped breathing several times, causing the medics to put a breathing tube down my throat to stop it closing up.

                    Whilst I was waking up the nurse assigned to me kept telling me to keep breathing and to breath deeply. In my half-stoned state it didn't register that telling someone to breath was an odd instruction. It was only when I was sufficiently recovered to read my medical notes left beside the bed, did I realise that she was giving me the hospital equivalent of my wife's poke in the ribs to prevent me from expiring.

                    I haven't died of it yet so presumably I'll be ok for a while longer, although sleeping on my tod might not be a good idea.

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                    • #12
                      I ran across this post on another forum, apparently some strange person had a dream about receiving a postal parcel from Michael Moorcock:

                      Last night I had a strange dream, about going to the post office, and in the mail there was this big cardboard box. So I took it home and opened it on the kitchen table, and there were all these weird plastic things. Ziploc bags of Barbie doll shoes, museum gift shop dinosaurs, plastic cake decorating flowers, Cowboys and Indians, novelty pencil sharpeners, and on and on. And there were loose pieces of notepaper scattered throughout, describing how each of these things related to each other, and how to assemble them into a diagram of something. And on one piece of paper was this message: "Guard this with your life! There is glue. -- Michael Moorcock. PS, I will be needing this back." And then I woke up.
                      Weird, hmm?

                      It was from this thread:

                      Fortean Times Message Board :: View topic - Dream thread II

                      The Ralph Retort

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