Sunday, September 16, 2007
Dream Blog #3
Before I relate my dream, I thought I'd first relate the fact that a major typhoon rampaged through South Korea on the weekend killing at least 100 people and turning more than a handful of cities near the south coast into the Korean equivalent of post-Katrina New Orleans, albeit with a lower death toll. Let's see how long it take for the South Korean government to act on this one and rebuild essential infrastructure. I'm guessing that it will take significantly less time for them to act than it did for Dubya and his good friend "Your doin' a heck of a job" Brownie. Just a guess. The story from BBC News can be read here...
While buying a pizza last night, we were silently watching a news channel showing footage of the storm. It was truly harrowing. I then remembered telling our School Manager on Friday that we were planning a trip to Seoul on Saturday. He looked at me like I had Canadian Bacon for brains and then told me about the typhoon. But when the weather was fine the next day, we went in anyway. Of course, the typhoon took a completely different path and the worst we felt up here was a little bit of rain. My most sincere thoughts go out to all those affected by the storm.
I consequently decided that I really needed to start checking the news more. One doesn't really hear local news on the radio here (there may be a way, though I haven't found it yet) and we have very little time to read the newspaper at school. After reading this morning about a discount flight that crashed in Thailand, killing nearly everyone on board, well... I guess I'm a little less happy, a little more informed. I beginning to understand the island or peninsular mentality of isolationism.
Which brings me to my dream: all I remember clearly was that I was walking through a mostly dying forest with some kind of Jabberwock type thing following at a pace close enough for me to sense, but not to see. Maybe it was The Predator. Anyway, I remember in a more vague sense that whatever it was started speaking to me and it somehow, wordlessly instructed me to weave a large basket from the branches I found on the forest floor around me. I did this quite quickly and then it told me that I would have to be quick. A young tree that was no more than a couple of feet high flew at me and I caught it in my basket like a Lacrosse player. The tree started dying, and then whatever was in the woods started chanting in a single, solitary voice: "Stop walking, stop talking... start creeping, start weeping". I woke up and wrote this phrase down so I know that at least this bit was accurate.
But, looking out the window, we have blue skies today...