nah pop, no style

Don’t read too much into this one, kids. Here’s hoping Mary comes back to Jeff so she can do it many more ways.

Also, on an unrelated note, I had a dream the other night that I killed a spider that was having babies and that was carrying two mini pierogies and one spool of thread. (Ironic, I suppose, that a spider would feel it necessary to carry a spool of thread . . .)

I’ve had numerous dreams lately, and several just last night, ranging from mundane to recurring to fantastic. I shall share the latter with you presently:

I was helping on the sidelines at football game (not a pro game, just some dudes playing on a field somewhere, but it was organized) and then it turned into a movie that I was in, and the coach got really angry and became Napoleon and he flipped out and a small building made of sticks collapsed on him then I and some others threw rotting fruit at him.

Napoleon was even wearing that hat like in the painting where he’s on the horse. Not kidding.

Dreams? Yes, I’ve had some lately.

• One in which I angered, then was physically attacked by, a very docile good friend.
• One in which I was with someone who was taming/fighting with snakes.
• One in which I MESSED UP THE DATE OF A SHOW IN THE PAPER AND WAS REMORSEFUL AND HOPED TO SOMEHOW REDEEM MYSELF (this was not unrealistic).
• One — the most interesting — in which I went, successively, through several different points of view with regard to an interpersonal situation: it started out that I was in my room and heard two guys outside talking, and assumed they were out running together. Then I was suddenly much closer to what was going on, and found that it was in fact a woman and a guy, and the woman was upset because her computer had been left outside by the guy (a roommate) and it was starting to rain. Mind you, this was a desktop computer. Then I was soon directly involved in this argument, but I can’t remember what role I played, exactly. I remember waking up with my mind blown by how I’d navigated so many points of view in this narrative. Weird.
• More that I can’t remember offhand — it’s seriously been a bountiful dream time lately.  In fact, it’s been a much more interesting dream time than real-life-time. Real life’s kinda been a bore.

Also, Jackie wins the Higgs/Rumi thing by default. I forgot to wrap that up. The answers were:

1. Rumi

2. Rumi

3. Higgs

4. Rumi

5. Higgs

6. Higgs

7. Rumi

8. Higgs

9. Higgs

10. Rumi

8 was kind of a trick in that Higgs takes on the lover/beloved theme, which is a big Rumi thing . . . GOTCHA! Also I thought 7 was very Higgs-sounding, but trust me, it’s from Rumi.

Thanks for not playing, suckers. EXCEPT JACKIE who’s not a sucker and will get a prize for her troubles.

I had a couple weird dreams this weekend.

• In the first, I went to see Abysme (Brad and Mike and Tim’s band which I have yet to see in my waking life) play and it was in a space that was in the basement of where Gatto is now in the factory plaza in front of the co-op. I went downstairs and came back up and it was all cool but then when I went to go back in for a second time, it became really hard to get in — like I was going spelunking or something — and I started feeling really claustrophobic. I began to worry about how I (and everyone else) would get out (especially since there was barely room for one person at a time on this staircase/chute), but then I figured it would all work out, so I stood there and watched the band. At a certain point as they began to play, they unveiled the “gimmick” of the stage show, which was this mechanical, kind of soft plastic/hard rubber, moving phallic . . . thing. It would rotate around and extend itself and shorten itself again, and it was unmistakably phallic. It sort of became the centerpiece of the performance, as it was basically poking people — band members, audience members — at random. Not hurting anyone, just kinda poking them. At this point, C**** S****** turned to someone else right in front of me and said: “Who’s leading the class now: the teacher or the students?” and that person replied: “The machine.” C**** smiled knowingly and I took this to mean that it was some experiment in toying with the power dynamics of a performance, in a non-binary fashion. I approved, and was still confused. Then the dream ended.
• Last night, I had one in which I arrived back at my old elementary school to do some sort of job-shadowing thing with, of all people, my old computer teacher. I actually had trouble finding her and I don’t think I tracked her down the whole time. I mostly wandered about the old school (as I often do in dreams) and saw people, some of whom were definitely from other schools I’ve attended and others of whom I felt like I recognized only vaguely. I found out that one of the teacher’s aides there (whom I think worked with learning-disabled kids) was going to be fired, and I decided then and there that I would quit my job and take her place. This is not happening in real life.

Sorry, the return to work after all of two days off was kinda rough. I’m kinda sick, and my TV broke for good I think, and my drain was all clogged and that depressed me (but Liquid Plumbr came to the rescue), etc. etc. etc.

Also, the dreams: the ones about malfunctioning elevators that jar me around and free fall. The ones that conflate important places in my life (workplace, elementary school) with Giant Eagle*? The ones where the Goodyear blimp crashes as I watch.

Saw Helvetica, which was fun, filled with weirdo typography people. That was good. But it’s over. Will be going to see Strange Culture within days. That’s only showing until Thursday (at the Regent Square), so please check it out if you live in Pittsburgh. It’s a really important story to know.

Reading an advance copy (well, it comes out tomorrow, it’s not too advance at this point) of Naomi Klein’s new one, The Shock Doctrine. It’s really good so far actually; basically a reportorial refutation of Thomas** Milton Friedman’s entire life.

Maybe I’ll write more soon.

* Giant Eagle, for those of you out of the area, is the name of a grocery store chain. Weird, I know.

** Why do there need to be two political thinkers with the same last name? I always inadvertently say one when I mean the other.

Sorry I’ve been absent. Chronic heat stroke.

• The current window display at Carl W. Hermann Furs downtown on Smithfield (between 6th and 7th Avenues, near my work) is fascinating, give it a look if you’re in the neighborhood. Disembodied mannequin parts abound: skirted legs with no torsos, hanging hands with gloves, crooked arms suspended with monofilament, sporting watches. It’s a scathing critique of consumer culture in the age of late capitalism: the psychological horror of the mutilation of the body is associated visually with the alienation inherent in à la carte accessory marketing. This is the same place that a couple months ago had a display that was simply hats, floating in midair (again suspended by monofilament). I like to picture some Dali-obsessed sad artist working as their freelance window display designer.
• Adventures in Tautology: there’s a new-ish(?) day care in East Liberty called For Kids Only Child Care. Also, our receptionist at work earlier said “If I’m snoring, I’ll be taking a nap.”
• I definitely had a dream the other night wherein I was putting holes in my cheeks with an awl for medical purposes (something to do with my wisdom teeth), not unlike trepanation only with my cheeks instead of my skull. One hole in each cheek, about one inch in diameter. The first one went well and closed back up almost immediately; the second one was problematic because the awl had a slightly flared end and when I went to remove it I had to do it very slowly, else I’d rip my cheek up something awful. So I did that, but then I had to go eat almost immediately, and I had to scramble to find a band-aid to cover the hole (it wasn’t closing so quickly) so that my food wouldn’t all fall out of the side of my face.

It’s been a while since the last dream post, and the dreams of late have been plentiful. I don’t remember nearly as much as I dream, though. A few select memories:

• A bird gets in the house; I don’t have a net to catch it with, so I somehow catch it in a big jar using a tennis racket. It’s a sparrow. As soon as I get it outside and release it, it’s a young robin, and its beak has fallen off. Whoops.
•  I’m moving in with some girl I don’t really know (who doesn’t exist in real life to the best of my knowledge), who is in grad school and has cable TV (that’s enough to make me go for it even though I don’t know her). A* is moving in too. The apartment is small and we’ll all be sleeping in pretty open quarters, which at first I’m fine with, then soon I’m not okay with. My mom is concerned because my sister is concerned that I’ll be watching too much TV. I realize at some point that if I’m moving into this place, I’m leaving my apartment way early, and I feel bad for my landlord because he’ll have to find a new tenant. I begin to freak out about what I should do; the dream melts into reality too much and ends.
• More elevator anxiety dreams.
• The one where one of the guys who works at the radio station that shares offices with us asks if it’s okay for him to pour a bunch of excess water from (something? I can’t remember what it was in) and I say sure. He does immediately, all over my shoes. I get mad, and after a good thirty-second delay, find him and say “YOU COULD’VE WAITED A MINUTE MY SHOES GOT REALLY WET” and he says “Oh, I’m sorry!” and then I feel really dumb for having said anything and think about how awkward it’ll be to see him at work from now on.