Monthly Archives: August 2011

sunny gale

On a sunny afternoon with very high westerly winds (via the approaching threat of Hurricane Irene IRL), I was standing in the upstairs hall at home, where the window was being blown in — the two panes were attached to each other and to the top and bottom of the window opening, but not along the sides of the opening, so that they were angling in from the wind pressure. I was talking to a friend about how if colleges truly wanted to increase diversity they had to do so with a focus on academics and not just athletics; this seemed to be a recapitulation of ideas from an earlier dream scene.

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arcade drive

On a maybe altostratus day, I got off a streetcar or bus in a city, maybe the T in Camberville or such, and along with a bunch of other people got in a car (the number of people indicated that this car must be as big as a bus itself, but I don’t think it was) driven by a charismatic black guy, sort of a pimp stereotype. He maneuvered the car into a crimson-tiled glazed arcade that ran along the northwest side of a northeast-southwest street and accelerated down it (northeastward), but had to stop because of stairs going up at the end of the arcade that spanned its entire width. So he backed up and went up a ramp. I think he eventually had to evade the police (due to the illegality of driving inside a non-garage) and did so by driving away on the street.

church trumpet

On what seemed to be a sunny early afternoon via bright, prettily diffused indirect light from clerestory windows, I was seated among a bunch of people, but not a packed crowd, in a medieval hall, maybe that of a church, with pews facing mainly north. There was some light coming in from north windows as well, but they were the only ones besides the clerestories. Barry Obama was sitting to the right at a west-facing pew near the front playing a trumpet; microphones picked up the sound and amplified the lowest notes to be really bassy, and I realized their fundamental frequencies were actually quite low (~200 Hz). Some guy with a beard sitting in a north-facing pew a little further back next to the center aisle also spoke into the microphone in front of him — the microphones were attached directly to the pews and were of the same age as the building, somehow using non-electric technology (magick?).

Toronto downtown

Toronto’s downtown lay just north of WU on the STL metro, and I was going there. It started at the equivalent of RL Delmar Station, so I had to go east to Forest Park and then northwest to get there. I looked a couple times at the metro map — downtown Toronto was just the size of a large city block or two, but the metro made multiple subterranean loops through it on the scale of large rooms, not neighborhoods. The downtown consisted pretty much of parking lots, seemingly with underground garages underneath, with a diamond-organized lattice of vents for the garages on single tubular stalks, with the vents being horizontal tubes of rounded-rectangle shape in cross-section, for an overall array-of-blow-dryers effect. It was decidedly of late-modern vintage by the forms and materials, and by the bizarre urban strategy.

sidewalk parking

On a cloudy day, at least latterly, I was driving the Saab south on a wide city street, with two-or-so-story shopfront buildings on each side and taller ones visible along the cross street ahead. I went left at a fork through a weird traffic light and set of lanes, then left again on a street curving toward the northeast, this one quite broad and edged by high buildings, on the order of eight stories (like Passeig de Gràcia in Barcelona IRL). I tried to park on the left side, on the wide sidewalk, but couldn’t get into reverse gear, so I kept going forward on the sidewalk, which sloped gradually up toward a still wider street to the north (like the Gran Via IRL). Was it raining at that point? Maybs.