Story: Oneiromancy, II

(Part O , I , III)

Dreams are an important part of our lives. We all dream, even if we don't remember them, or our brains suffer as a result. We can learn from our dreams and our dreams can learn from us, that is if we happen to exist in a world connected to the Dreamline.

The Dreamline is simple in concept, in that certain sensitive beings can tap into it and communicate abstractly to other sensitives who are spatially and temporally 'close' enough. How this works we have yet to discover but the number of examples of such sensitives has been waning for more than fifty years. We had thought that the genetics causing the sensitivity had been slowly mutated out of the species, but could such a rapid change be credible?

Finally, as we worried about the last known sensitive in the Western world moving on into the next life, someone invented a new theory as to the slow of withdrawals of sensitives from the population. The hypothesis was that they remained as abundant as ever, diet and pollution not withstanding, and that the problem was a lack of transmissions further up the Timeline. The sensitives had nothing to receive, and without those messages how could they know they had the capacity? There was an interruption in the chain of Dreamers, an Event Horizon that nothing could apparently cross.

The last known Dreamliner in our country, a woman called Dorena Spratt, hadn't received dream conundrums from anywhen but the past or present for more than five years, although she was maintaining a bizarre string of barely intelligible exchanges with someone apparently in Japan who kept trying to convey something about a loaf of bread and the President of the World Bank. Dorena really had no idea what it was all about. That was true until the penultimate day of her life, when she had a dream from someone new, someone who dreamed with new gadgets and bizarrely imbalanced clothes. Long having given up on the Dreamline she was jubilant and passed on contentedly the next evening.

The new dream changed everything. The Event Horizon was finite. There were new dreamers out there in the future. But what was going to happen to almost break the chain? And for those people in the future, what had happened already?

To be continued...

Story: The Disappearance (X)

(Part IX , XI)

There was a duality about the time I'd spent talking to the owners and managers of McGonagle biscuits over my tenure on the force. Personally I had gotten on with every single one, and had planned to do that or better with Agnes. At the same time, we treated the whole crooked business with the greatest of suspicion and no-one was above our gaze. That was why the appearance of the spectre of Rolf McGonagle, supposedly dead for six months, didn't surprise me all that much.

Never turn away from a bull. "For someone who was electrocuted and then fell through a floor, you look surprisingly lifelike." I had never liked Rolf McGonagle on a deep gut level.

"Ha ha. You're looking for a face full of dough." Rolf looked beyond me after this gem of articulacy and presumably was examining his niece. "Agnes. You staying there? It'll be easier on you if you join the family instead."

"No, Uncle, it seems that my family is not what I thought it was. I'll stay here and take it like a stupid honest person."

Rolf scowled his little tough man smile and I realised that this man looked no different to how he had appeared at his last meeting with us in the factory. He was unchanged. The three tough guys standing outside the door were standard issue muscle that I didn't pay much attention to. This dead millionaire pushed further into the room, like a ninny, so I grabbed him as a shield and kicked the door closed.

I used a few words, just for novelty. "Controls, Agnes."

Agnes looked confused and then realised that the one way out was not going to be through the door. Rolf was struggling so I bopped him on the head, nice payback for some few things, and then dumped him on the teleporter bed. The date and time indicator showed us as being fifty years into the future.

"Well, well, well. It was time travel after all, or at least a more organised hoax."

"You know, you're not telling me a thing!" Agnes was not pleased.

"Hey, kid, you know something? I'll tell you everything I know, on the other side." The controls were pretty self-explanatory and I set the space-time coordinates to what I'd written in my phone that morning. Previous bursts of time and space travel had left me with an acute sense of how important it was to always have a place to go back to. Planets do travel through space after all. "Ready?"

"Not really."

"Bad choice. Get on. I have no plan, no ideas, and an acute knowledge of having fallen into a trap. Let's get out while we can. We'll test it on Rolfie first." I pushed the activation key and 'Rolfie' faded out in a sparkle. A moment later the verification light flashed green. "It's now or never. Ten seconds."

Agnes mounted the platform, and I joined her. We avoided the space where Rolf had been. Who needs a mess?

And then the world glittered and changed. And Rolf had of course vanished. Some times I hated the world of stupid events.


More will follow...

Building Blocks

Retraining is always useful thing to have in the background, as the more skills you have the more versatile you can be. This is something that I really wish I had come through strongly in the course of my PhD but instead it was a relentless and repetitive struggle with the same problems over and over and over. 'Could have, should have, but didn't'. Alas, dwelling on past difficulties is really not the way to go.

Diversification of skills is a great way to spend a spell of unemployment. It's difficult to get started, but once begun it is halfway done. I am choosing to spend this period becoming reacquainted with Statistics and learning how to data analyses in the language R. While in its early stages, it is clear that a proficiency in R, as well as the previously adopted Python and odd thing we call FreeFEM++ provides quite an impressive portfolio of computational tools. Bring on the Statistics.

It feels stupid to be talking about disadvantages or disenfranchisement, but there are things that happen in the course of a spell in the Wilderness. Mostly they are things that you do to yourself. Confidence problems can be such a pain. There was a time when my lack of confidence was so ingrained and embedded into the DNA that I tried to do nothing at all, and just hide in the hole of safety. It's always a tempting option, and when you're stuck in job hunting mode it gets very easy to dismiss so many jobs as being unlikely or impossible...

So, in the final analysis we're faced with two kinds of blocks: Building blocks and mental blocks. The building blocks are helpful tools like learning R, or reading articles that are interesting as well as (or even instead of) useful, being proactive, and taking online courses. The mental blocks are far harder to shake, but that's mainly because they're distracting in their very presence. You feel the giant oppressive block sitting there, forcing you into stillness, and forming the focus for what can only be obsession. The word 'stillness' is the key here, as the best thing to do is to do. Make progress in something, anything, and then the energy will bleed over into everything else. Activity is what eliminates inactivity.

There's a lesson there somewhere. Perhaps it's the old one about macaroni being the key to a truer conception of reality.

O.

Cosmos

The Cosmos, that great order that represents reality which we also refer to mostly equivalently as the Universe, is a tough thing to look at. It's also beautiful with a hard grace. If it were still dark enough we could look out the window now and see the stars in the sky, gleaming with that light from the distant past. People used to look up at the cosmos, at the skies, and wonder what could happen out there. Now it's only possible far from the things of Man.

There's too much illumination to see the stars clearly at night now, and the universe is seen as a much harder place. It is not really, but life has turned into something far more pressured. We've made a trade-off, swapping disease and hardship for comfort and pressure, and as a result we have lost the sky. In losing the sky we have also lost our link to the world, even though it sits beneath our feet as it ever has. Or perhaps I'm talking total pretentious nonsense.

Let's pause to regroup.

As technology has progressed and we have multiplied uncontrollably on this precious world, the sheer number of people has made life more stressful. I hold that to be an indisputable fact. As we grow in numbers and multiply the stresses out of hand, there is a growing demand for entertainment and diversion. In a sense that is entirely understandable, as we need more assistance in relaxing; Not everyone is as easily relaxed as me, when I remember I need to be. But is there something else at play here?

As an example, I watch lots of television DVDs and read lots of novels. I also read Mathematics and languages, but that's another topic entirely. Could it be that these fragments of entertainment, these fictional realities are what are binding us to the Earth now, to our world and the wider cosmos? We certainly don't see much of the world anymore, unless we're lucky enough to travel widely, and even then we connect more to the people than the planet and for only a few instants in our lives. The more aware people go to a stream or the sea and soak in the world and reconnect in a myriad of other ways, but it's not a common thing at all.

If what we're looking for is connection to the world and to a certain constant of domesticity, it seems we look to fiction for a stable and constant reflection of that universe at large, for the inspirations and patterns that don't really get passed on any more, and the cautionary tales that get lost in the cracks. And then we learn everything ourselves anyway by trial and error, as that is how it has always been.

Does that mean that my DVD diet of 'The Mentalist', 'Community', 'Star Trek' and 'Voyage To The Bottom Of The Sea' is teaching me how to be a wonderful human? Or the wonderful novels of David Eddings, Terry Pratchett, and the wonderful expanded universes of Star Trek and Doctor Who? Maybe they are, and maybe they aren't, but when the stars are hidden from view you seek them out in worlds where they are still clear to see.

O.

Film: 'Joe Versus The Volcano' (1990)

This is a hard film to write about. It was a huge flop upon its release and is disliked by very many people still, but I rather like its eccentricities and effectiveness in conveying a message. 'Joe Versus The Volcano' is nominally a romantic comedy, one which paired Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan for the first time, and one which has things to share if you're only listening. Perhaps that last part is the problem; People are so habitually expecting narrative experiences that they really have no use for other types of film. There is no intention of saying that 'Joe' has no narrative, but it is in equal part a metaphorical narrative and one with a very bizarre ending. One can only wonder at the ending, but there will be time for that later.

Joe is a veteran who went on to become a firefighter, but he risked his life once too many times and became scared and weary, and then sold out to a terrible job. His weariness and soul sickness manifest themselves as hypochondria, and one day a doctor tells him the terrible truth: He has a brain cloud and will die in six months despite otherwise perfect health. While that may not sound like the basis for a comedy the film is not really about the brain cloud and death but instead about living. Joe, subjected to the catalysis of his diagnosis goes forth, accepts an unusual job with incredibly ludicrous benefits, and emerges from his cocoon for one more adventure.

Staged in three distinct phases Joe goes from his drab and grey initial experience, to a transitional phase in the electricity of Los Angeles, and finally to liberation during a long sea voyage to an island populated by savages where his job is to jump into a volcano as a hired sacrifice. Each of those phases features Meg Ryan in a different role, where her characters reflect Joe's state and journey, and each of which begins her own journey thanks to touching Joe's life. Ryan does very well in this film, in fact she's far more accomplished than Tom Hanks as Joe. She manages to pull off three distinct characters, all of whom are confused with life and looking for direction, and conveys that things have changed for each one by knowing Joe as he goes on his way. Of course he marries the last version, Patricia, but that's another story.

It would be easy to jump deep into analysis of 'Joe Versus The Volcano' but that's available elsewhere. It's a famous film for analysis. The important thing is the journey. Of course Joe turns out to probably not be dying at the end, and unfortunately of course he survives the volcano with his incredibly new bride, and of course the islanders are a bizarre racial mix who are obsessed with orange soda, but the journey is worth it.

If you can detach from the supposed story, which is in essence a myth or archetype, there is a beauty to 'Joe Versus The Volcano'. A lyrical quality underlines most of the movie, only replaced by a crudeness in the initial segment at Joe's old job, and a bizarreness in the ending on the island. The beginning and the ending are the parts which will really derail people looking for a smooth narrative, and indeed the start does sometimes push even me out of the film a little. The islanders are similarly problematic in that they are so bizarre as to be offputting, but the volcano does add enough scale to make the natives inconsequential in the end. The ultimate end is... a cheat. It would be so much a better movie if they did jump in the volcano and the film ended, but as it is it is a cheat. I shall say no more.

This is turning into quite a ramble, isn't it? Doubtlessly it shall be revised a few times. The lyrical/surreal quality of the film is backed up magnificently by the score and songs, partly composed by the director John Patrick Shanley, and is exactly what's needed. Shanley didn't really do much in film after this movie bombed but he didn't deserve blame. 'Joe' has become a cult classic over time and one day will be rehabilitated completely, when people realise it's a parable or a fable or an allegory or whatever instead of a simple narrative. Someday it will happen. This is the movie that introduced the word 'soulsick' to me, and it's one I shall relish forever more. It's just a shame about the orange soda and being spat out of the volcano.

Yes, revisions will be necessary. 'Joe Versus The Volcano' is a nice movie, one which is ultimately flawed but entertaining and illuminating anyway. I love it. Meg Ryan is wonderful, Tom Hanks is solid, Lloyd Bridges steals the show and Ossie Davis is as great as ever. It really should be watched, because it is special. Yes, you might hate it but you could just as well love it. Oh, and you have to watch it to get the message.

O.

PS Took another shot at this review, which can be found far far in the future.

Story: The Glove, IV [Obsoleted]

(Part I , III , V)


Steffan was a Master. He was utterly shocked. No one ever went directly from Apprentice to Master in the Pipers Guild. It had only happened twice before, once with great success and once with great infamy. The infamy lived on in a louder fashion than the success had. A master! It was unbelievable. His mind wandered randomly as he stood woodenly holding the scroll. Finally, his mother emerged from the crowd and took him by the hand, and then led him away.

Two hours later, the newly appointed Master Steffan had eaten some hearty soup and was looking at the still unbroken seal on the scroll. His mother and father had steadfastly refused to break the seal for him and now it sat on the table, being significant without any effort. The Great Seal of the Pipers Guild was a simple hexagon, a regular six-sided shape impressed upon the wax that sealed the scroll. Once opened it could never be remade, and a tiny piece of his past would be lost forever.

Steffan took a thousand holopics of the scroll from all angles and then took up the scroll and held it for a few moments. He had no idea how to open a seal. Could it damage the scroll in the process?

"Son. You will eventually read it. Just go to it." Steffan's father sketched a motion for how to open the seal and Steffan copied it imperfectly. Unrolling the scroll he was confused by his instructions.


'Master Steffan,

In the event of your reading these instructions we must assume you have passed your test, and with such acclaim that you have acceded to the rank of Master. Congratulations.

As you are aware, it is almost unprecedented for someone to do what you will have done. From the earliest you have been thought to possess the most unusual of high potential and monitored with great interest. We have need of a talented person, for the world is an unusual place, as it has ever been, and circumstances require an unusual person for an unusual mission.

For a time now we have been concerned at the growing imbalance between the societies of the two great cities of Troos. We have become ever more distant from our scientific brothers in Edin and have decided to send an emissary, a new ambassador to investigate frictions that have recently arisen. You are that ambassador, Master Steffan. We require no spying from you, and the authorities of Edin are completely aware of your purpose. We ask you to journey to Edin, to commune with its peoples, and determine the problem we can not perceive.

Should you accept this mission, and we hope you will, present yourself at the Pipers Council on the third day after your successful test.

Fare well in the meantime.
Octavius, Laird of Burgh.'





Octavius! Steffan had been approached by the Laird of the Pipers, the hereditary guardian of the city, and now he had to decide his course of action. What would he do in three days? Whatever it was, he was sure that the next three days would be an agony of waiting.

Steffan began to wait, and think, and wait some more.


To be continued...

Boxes and boxes and even more boxes

My things have been moved and I am no longer even technically a resident of Aberystwyth. It feels funny to move. It always does. As people we define ourselves rather bizarrely by where we live, our jobs and our families, but not often by who we are and how we behave. Hence when we move we are essentially chipping off a chunk of identity and replacing it with our new environment. As a result, and if that is true for you, then moving is of course a traumatic experience!

Let's accept the above as a hypothesis, for now, and that it applies to me or someone else sitting in a house with too many boxes and not enough room for all their books. Hovering around that person you can imagine all the mental boxes strewn around as they try to work out who on Earth they are at the moment. Change throws people for loops. Fortunately my existence is more defined by actions than locations but still it's a strange experience to go through.

Despite all the moving it actually feels like life is quite good at the moment. Sure, I'm unemployed and there are no signs of jobs at the moment, but there are no loose ends flapping and hopes for the future. Huzzah and hail fellow, well met. Sometime soon I will really have to write about 'Joe Versus The Volcano'. It's a hard one to think about, a film that got ripped up in one of our Film Bin discussions despite my loving it, and a fascinating screen poem in many ways. I suspect that there won't ever be a harder piece to write.

<shifts the mental boxes about a bit>

Aha! The upcoming plans for the Quirky Muffin are actually exciting. I will break into book reviews more than at present, shifting away from movies once 'Joe Versus The Volcano' is done, and really plug into the prose portal that formed the essential Oliver. It should be fun, and it is quite scary but a project already begun. There are two stories I want to push along as well, 'Oneiromancy' and 'The Disappearance', both of which will hopefully conclude before the next phase of 'Triangles' and the resurrection of 'The Glove'. 'The Glove' is hard as there's no immediate plot to hang onto, although there is a plan now. World building is actually quite hard, which is obvious in retrospect. I might even write about music a little, which is normally a bogie subject.

O.