The Geek Icon
In the grand Geek Icon tradition of telling you my freaky-weird dreams.
Evil Little Monkeys
Have you ever read H.P. Lovecraft? I have. I like pulpy schlock horror. And Lovecraft has a certain flair of style and originality that makes many of his stories really enjoyable pulpy schlock horror. I love his theme of delving into the unknown and the consequences of seeing and knowing too much. Plus slime and tentacles are always cool.
I haven't read any Lovecraft lately, but he's been influencing my dreams. I had a really horrible vivid one a week or so ago. Somehow my friends and I had found our way into this alternate dimension. We started a secret society that would go there and make up silly rituals to perform in this cool, indigo place with stone tiles and dry fountains. The secret society kept growing and growing. Suddenly the power in the society shifted, and we knew that a sinister change had taken place. One person was chosen for a special ritual each month. It was just meant to be a lark, they wore a funny crown and pretended to be a "sacrifice" to some creepy but made-up elder god. But some of us started noticing that these "sacrificed" people acted a bit funny afterwards. Said things that weren't quite right.
I was in the girl's bathroom with a bunch of other girls, getting ready to go into our alternate dimension for another meeting of the secret society-- which was starting to seem not-so-secret since there were hoardes of us now. Suddenly, a couple of girls came up to me and informed me that I was going to be this month's sacrifice. I felt a sudden clench of fear in my gut but tried not to show it. I took a diplomatic approach. Maybe someone else should be the sacrifice? Was I really suitable? What happened to me anyway? Was it really safe? I tried to play it really casual, hoping my reluctance would let me weasel out of it this time. They were pretty adamant. They told me if I had doubts there was someone I could talk to. I smiled amiably and agreed. We walked out of the girl's bathroom toward the interdimensional portal, where a figure was waiting for us.
It was George W. Bush.
He smirked at me and told me there was nothing wrong with the ceremony, that it was all just symbolic and nothing would happen to me when I put the crown on. Why, he had done the same a few months ago and he was fine.
But I knew with a certainty that he wasn't-- he was possessed by some alien elder god. And he could read my mind. I frantically tried to keep my surface thoughts calm. I had left something in the bathroom, and I needed to go back. But I reassured them was totally cool with the ceremony and would be back in a minute. The Possessed GWB grinned widely, and so did my two female escorts. I couldn't tell if they had fallen for my trick-- it was so clich&eactue;. I headed back to the bathroom, which was now empty. I watched from the doorway and saw everyone head into the alternate dimension, to get ready for the ceremony.
Then I bolted.
It was a terrifying dream, but when I woke up I had to laugh. It was so ironically perfect.
Just the other night I had another weird dream. I was riding on a motorcycle with my boyfriend, and we passed through these winding hills with expanses of golden wheat. It was so beautiful, we had to just keep going through them, but the road curved into a cave underground. There we found ourselves at a house with delicious smells coming out of it. An older woman and man lived there, and the woman gave us the best food we had ever eaten. We decided to live there forever, sampling all the wonderful food the woman made in her oven, which always seemed to be on.
One day the woman had to leave on a short trip to a research lab at a university. She had us watch the place while she was gone, although we couldn't imagine why, since nobody ever came to the cave. I went out to the garage to read a newspaper, and noticed that the concrete under my feet felt unusually warm. I called the woman on the phone and told her about it, and she warned me to be careful, they might cut the phone lines! She didn't tell me who "they" were since the phone line cut off at just that instant. Something was stirring in the rock under the cave. Something was coming to life.
A hoarde of monkeys spilled out of the refrigerator. They had been frozen underneath the cave-- a terrible byproduct of the woman's scientific research. She used the oven to vent away heat and keep the monkeys frozen, but while she was away, we let the oven turn off and they escaped. And who knew what mischief the evil little monkeys would get up to.
I find it interesting that some of Lovecraft's best stories involved a man who could enter the Dreamworld as if it were a seperate reality. After some of my dreams it makes a certain twisted sense.