Monthly Archives: July 2011


I discovered a Flash interface for downloading the Gunnerkrigg archive in PDF format; it was zoomable horizontally along a narrow bar at the base, but the content in the main part of the window was not Gunnerkrigg-related but rather a scrollable illustration of houses a along street in elevational view. The interface seemed to be on a large screen, maybe non-backlit. That’s it.

proofreading school

On a hike through an area northwest of home that resembled central/northern Britain (moors and smallish pieces of woods) on a late afternoon, stretching to around sunset, with the sky mostly high overcast, I was crawling for some reason on grassy ground, then upright on a gravel path once got to it going north. There were early flowers (clover etc) blooming. I came, walking north, to a building comprising a few volumes, one octagonal in plan and classical in detailing, the others long modernist blocks attached to it, one extending north-south to my east and the other east-west ahead of me. I approached the complex and greeted one or two students coming out of the modern wing ahead. Its ground floor was recessed behind the footprint of the upper level, so there was a patio covered by the upper level, and then the interior of the ground floor was largely bounded by glazed walls. The patio and interior were lit by fluorescent lights since twilight was upons. The ground floor was down a small slope as I approached. I went in and talked to students hanging out on the lower level (which was furnished with couches, tables, maybe some counters) and learned from them that it was a satellite of UNH: a grad school for proofreading. It seemed to be connected to the law school. Some of them talked about how there was an emphasis on quickness, avoiding taking forever on a proofreading.

The scene seemed to shift to out front at home, on a wintry twilighty day. Two Jamaican guys drove up in a swish black car, or maybe in separate cars; one of them (with dreads) was maybe on some kind of mission that the other was trying to thwart, or something — at least the latter was an antagonist — and a chase ensued into the house, except it turned back into the proofreading school, and the students and particularly the professors (who also were housed there, in interior quarters north of the glazed common space where I’d been on the ground floor) were really excited about the action, getting up and checking out the scene even though it was the middle of the night at that point.

place music

Within a big festival tent, nearly opaque so the sunlight coming through was filtered into deep red, but lit inside with stage lights, I watched a punk-generation guitarist playing acoustic guitar, really intricately and fast, and percussively. The music was very poignantly evocative of places, varying by how far up the neck he was playing. A band of 20somethings alternated with him in playing, playing in the same vein.

Long Island railway house

Among lots of other dream snippets, mostly seemingly in urban or campus settings and with a large cast of people, many of whom I knew, some I didn’t, the one I recalled best was going to the family house on Long Island of one of my WU friends, on a dappled sunny afternoon. The house was on the east side of a semi-elevated north-south railway with great deep stone wall sides, next to a road dipping down to the side and then returning to nearby the railroad walls. There was also some kind of high enclosure on the east side of the property too, so it was sort of a big courtyard or hole in general spatial terms. I remarked that it was the neatest place around because of this setting. At some point a bunch of us were in a semi-interior space in the house that was open to the outside to the south and also had a clerestory window to the east, but it was mostly quite shadowy, no artificial lights on.

mile-high train

I was taking a train with a bunch of people I knew (from various places — WU, local, etc) somewhere on an overcast, somewhat hazy day. At one point we spiraled up a wide highway-clover-like ramp (superimposed over about five others, part of a gigantic infrastructural array) to get onto a southbound elevated railway. The ground below seemed to be thousands of feet away, which was pretty scary for everyone riding; luckily we got through the spiral and onto the straight track without incident.

Boris reaxion

  • I was at a spaceship-like hermetic sort of hotel room (its lavatory was built into a wall, the entrance was a heavy vertical sliding door etc, the whole thing kind of Red Dwarf-like), within a nested series of spaces maybe, working on some research or something; but it was in Hancock village, at the west end of Main St. I was working there near midnight at that point, and I left to walk home and get some supplies but then realized at the east end of Main St that I might just as well take my research home to work on, so I turned around. But before that on the walk east (on the north sidewalk) I met and walked with one particular webcomics artist and asked when his wife was expecting, to which he replied “any moment now,” and then started heading off to the left toward the RL library area, which was the hospital where his wife was. At that point he said “Happy New Year,” to which I responded “Indeed,” like some sort of asocial numbnut. After turning around and getting back to the west side of the village, realizing that I had a flashlight but that to my dismay it was just about out of batteries, I saw someone vandalizing cars parked around the area. I pursued him and threw a kid’s tricycle at him to try to get him to stop, and it made him run out of sight. I complained to someone else I knew about it who said that the guy worked the night shift at the cafe and was venting his frustration with same, and I started to feel sorry for him.
  • I was at a gettogether in what seemed like a sort of airport-like glassy interior, talking with a couple of friends about Boris the band (while hearing them on the speakers) and seeing them live. One of them was visibly overwhelmed by the music, and I made a face of wild googly eyes and shaking to simulate the full effect, which made me lose my balance and stumble forward, which we all thought was hilarious, then I woke up, possibly via RL chuckles.


On an early evening twilight (although maybe other times of day as well), I was out at the north edge of the field at home, by the blueberry bushes (but there were many more there than IRL, in the woodpile area). Clouds of cyan, magenta, and yellow particles (tiny beads) rose up from the bushes (the different colors at separate times, not mixed together), a wondrous and confusing sight. Eventually we figured out that the particles were the result of some sort of chemical reaction on the leaves of the plants, maybe rainwater with various sorts of applied powders, with different compounds constituting the powders causing the different colors of particles. Whoa.

diner apartments

At a beach, on a cloudy day, a TV reporter was on location talking about an apartment house above a diner. The building containing the diner had a front that was curved/inflected, maybe built into land sloping up. Two of the apartments upstairs were owned by gay couples (the first of which was pretty flamboyant, whereas the other couple seemed like two straight bros) and maybe there was another one-room apartment with another guy living in it. The reporter or I toured the apartments a bit — the POV seemed to switch from immersive TV to being directly present.


All right, now THIS is the worst slacking I’ve ever done on getting these post drafts finished and published. Not only did I wait till the evening of the very last day of the month, but it’s the NEXT MONTH (it is actually August 31st as I write this) — I still have to do all of July’s posts in addition to August’s. Henceforth I will be indicating the date of the dream by the apparent publishing date, since that turns out to be possible. Here we go.

  • I was on a run starting in Temple, going around a tight corner in the road just past the village to the northeast, with some people in the running club, on a sunnyish midmorning; instead I reached maybe Nashua, the road curving south to southwest with a body of water out to the left, with a very clear (and unduly close) view of Boston to the southeast beyond the water.
  • I was at a big-box store with a friend and his older sister, whose birthday it was, of an evening twilight; I went to look for a restroom down a wide desolate hallway (it felt like walking westward) and found an employees-only one. I was directed to turn back toward the main part of the store to find the public men’s room (the women’s room was in the other direction). After we went through checkout and back out to the parking lot (which was on the east side of the store), I talked with a WXC teammate who happened to be there about dubstep and how I liked LFO’d sine subs but less so midrange wobble. Upon our departure in a car, there were a couple of WU friends standing in the parking lot, and I made the Home Alone face at them thru the rear window; they did likewise and followed us out of the parking lot running, staying with us even on the highway (then I woke up).