And my legs aren't working quite right. I'm starting to feel sick. I decide I'd better go back home and try to straighten this mess out. But... I can't remember which direction to walk in. I start to panic. How can I be LOST? I've lived here for 15 years! I try to calm down. For some reason I can't walk very fast. Each step is not exactly painful, but I just can't get my legs to move fast. It takes forever to get to the corner where I can see the street signs and figure out which way to go. It should be Munger Street up there and then I'll be able to figure out which direction Victor St. is in. But it isn't Munger. It's... (something smudged out)-"cleats" Street. I can barely see that it used to say Hypercleats Street. This is INSANE, I think, and start to REALLY panic. I try to head back the other way to find Munger, but it takes a gigantic effort of will just to raise each leg and take a step. It gets worse and worse. The panic is becoming unendurable. I keep seeing that hideous olive-head baked-on tooth-picks-in-the-eyes mask. I discover I can't move at all, I'm frozen in position on this deserted alien street. MY MIND STARTS TO SHATTER and of course then I wake up, panting, panicked, sweating, wrapped up in sheets, INDESCRIBABLY RELIEVED that it was just a nightmare.
What a classic. Everybody conspiring against you, disease, drug urges, homophobia, trying to run but something slowing you down to a syrupy, slow-motion pace... WHEW! BUMMER! And I very rarely have nightmares. In fact, I rarely remember any dreams at all. But the morning before, I'd awakened from vivid dreams of flying. And the night before that, it had been sexy dreams.
I realized what had happened. The chain of events... I worked until midnight last night and finally finished the article I'd been working on. My badly needed pay was basically earned. Everybody was asleep but I wanted to celebrate, but since the Red Chinese had apparently intercepted the latest shipment from Tibet, there was NO 'FROP. Hasn't been for days. (Thus the dreams -- frappy is a dream suppressor, and all the bottled-up classics had come tumbling out each night.) I thought, by god, I'm gonna go get me a damn BEER. I don't usually drink at all, just on special occasions, so I went out and got me that damn quart just before the stores closed, and came back and started going through alt.slack, on which I was far behind. I got to reading posts and marking the good ones to save... came across the stupid Buck and Black stuff, responded to that with a quart of beer in me, which I KNOW better than to do... I dread looking at that stuff this morning... this went on till 3 in the morning. I've been working until 3 almost every night this week, and I always have to get up at 7 to take kids to school. I usually try to go back to bed and catch up on my sleep, but I always just lie there vibrating and thinking bad thoughts, so I end up getting up again, drinking a jug of the blackest, greasiest high-grade coffee imaginable, and working. So the onset of exhaustion has been approaching.
That nightmare was a warning. Time to SLACK OFF. But best not think about any more quarts of beer. The new frappy shipment will probably get through this weekend. Everything will be FINE. I've got some GREAT material sitting here for the HOUR OF SLACK so I'll probably mix a few shows today. But I just had to work that hideous nightmare out of my system, and YOU-ALL are the VICTIMS.
And I guess I went to bed feeling kind of guilty. Guilty about the beer, and about talking about Buck and Black when they're not on the Net, so it's a little like talking behind their backs, even though they started it. Can you believe it? The Sacred Scribe of THIS SIN-MONGERING CHURCH, feeling GUILTY for having a BEER and for flaming two self-evidentially flaming assholes who were telling lies or delusions about me in public, to begin with. Actually, Buck isn't LYING, he's just grossly mistaken. Uh-oh, I'm doing it again. CUT!
One weird thing -- when I finally crashed last night, somewhat drunk, just before I fell asleep, I couldn't stop thinking about those Hot-Headed Naked Ice Borers. What DynaSoar said about red-hot pokers taking a long time to melt even one inch into solid ice is right. And it FINALY STRUCK ME... DUH! That was the APRIL issue of Discover magazine... the biologist who reported on these creatures was "APRILE PAZZO." DUH DUH DUH. I wonder in which language it is that "pazzo" means "fool." (Italian?)
Funny how long it takes for these things to SINK IN sometimes. Funny at which TIMES they finally sink in.
DUH DUH DUH.
The great and powerful EVIL PALMER VREEDEEZ of the LIES FOUNDATION got back to the States from France yesterday, where he's been working on a new Freak Bros. comic with Gilbert Shelton. This means that once he's over his jetlag, I can start getting all the good SubGenius artwork back from him, start posting the digitized stuff, etc. I also have to pester him relentlessly to get him online properly. He's in San Francisco, and we need to find him the best local Internet access server. Any Bay Areans out there who can speak from experience about the various PPP servers available there? Email me. Alt.slack needs Vreedeez. He's right up there with Nenslo in terms of sheer clarity of HATE POWER. AND he's got the ART STASH!
Palmer visited Berlin, Paris, Amsterdam... the lucky bastard... He and Shelton saw not one but TWO ELECTRIC DOBBSHEADS on buildings in Berlin. One was a huge (15' wide) screen-printed, backlit vinyl Dobbshead hanging on an apartment building... no explanation. The other was the "logo" of a coffeehaus called THE WRONG FRIEND. He met Jimmy Page... says The Black Crowes are into "Bob"... visited R. Crumb, who said, "Oh, is that SubGenius stuff still HAPPENING?" when Palmer gave him a Revelation X... said that the Parisian Clench tunes in to alt.slack a lot. (!??)
Sacred Agent Jane Browne has been trying to sell the SubG books to European publishers for awhile now. There's a Japanese publisher, but the project seems to be bogged down... 5 translators have committed sepuku in shame... Sven Serrano, our man in Osaka, says he offered to help, but they were at a complete standstill. Palmer's German friends have been trying to do a German translation of the Pamphlet, but they say it's damned near impossible. All they can do is try to capture the ATTITUDE. There's no German word for SLACK, for one thing.
Heck, Philo and I had trouble just doing the ENGLISH translation!
None on the horizon until July, which is probably good, because there's work to do here. Of course there's the New, Improved X-Day Pilgrimage to Portland, and it probably will be a good one this time. It couldn't possibly be worse than the first one. I'll be at DragonCon in Atlanta in July, but I don't have the dates handy. I will NOT be at Starwood. Instead, I'm showing old PreDobbs Stangfilms and PostDobbs Videos at the Chicago Underground Film Festival, July 22, I think... details to follow. That should be a real big PARTY, actually.
Supposedly, SUNSite has started broadcasting THE HOUR OF SLACK on the Net by now. <http://sunsite.unc.edu/wxyc>
For Hour of Slack info:
My equipment isn't good enough to recieve it yet... can anybody report how it sounds?
Speaking of which, I'd better shut this rambling down and go start producing those new shows before my kids come home.
Thank you for your cooperation.
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Original file name: Nightmare Report
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