Quite frankly I'm getting concerned now about some of the stuff I'm churning out in my dreams. Stanley Kubrick and Andrew Kevin Walker would cross the street if they saw me coming had they been privy to the kind of the stuff that's had me waking up screaming these last few erm..years.
Why can't I dream of teaching home economics to a class of female Sky Sports presenters? It's not too much to ask. The nearest I've got to that so far is being chased up a hill by Richard Keys. I woke up panting, but it's not the same.So last night I had occasion to pickaxe my way into an old hospital. I had to use a pickaxe to get in because some years previous, the health ministry had decided to brick up all the entrances and windows cause it had been riddled with a deadly plague, a deadly plague I tells ya..and instead of making attempts to cure the hospitals infected, they decided to sacrifice them all and save the wider community by just bricking the place up. Patricia Hewitts idea I suspect.
Arrrrrghhhhhhh it's hideousWithout counseling I shan't be able to encourage the true meaning of these terrors to surface from the depths of my subconscious, but if I had to guess, I'd say it has something to do with the duality of man - like Joker from Full Metal Jacket with his peace badge - the Jungian thing sir.
Much as I'm loathe to agree with Germans (I know Carl Jung was Swiss, but they're Germans too aren't they, just Germans who were too scared to fight) I feel he's exactly correct in his theory of two consciences. A collective conscience and a personal-unconscience.
My dreams are bloody horrible cause society is bloody horrible. Kids carrying knives and adopting funny accents and sporting enormous trousers in some inexplicable attempt to fool us into thinking they're from South Central Los Angeles rather than Berkshire; poverty; obescity; crime; christianity; reality TV; Noel Edmonds and so on...
But as our society decomposes (the hospital), and our Governments make no attempts to prevent it, I'm holding a birthday cake. With pink icing and candels. Re-birth, a new hope, the beginning of a new cycle, funny hats and so on. Yes, this must be it. My subconscious is a beacon of hope, that's what it is. So I can find my way in these dark times. It's society that's a wrong-un not me. MAD?? Not a bit of it. It's society that's mad. Baaaaaaaaagh.
Much as I'm loathe to agree with Germans (I know Carl Jung was Swiss, but they're Germans too aren't they, just Germans who were too scared to fight) I feel he's exactly correct in his theory of two consciences. A collective conscience and a personal-unconscience.
My dreams are bloody horrible cause society is bloody horrible. Kids carrying knives and adopting funny accents and sporting enormous trousers in some inexplicable attempt to fool us into thinking they're from South Central Los Angeles rather than Berkshire; poverty; obescity; crime; christianity; reality TV; Noel Edmonds and so on...
But as our society decomposes (the hospital), and our Governments make no attempts to prevent it, I'm holding a birthday cake. With pink icing and candels. Re-birth, a new hope, the beginning of a new cycle, funny hats and so on. Yes, this must be it. My subconscious is a beacon of hope, that's what it is. So I can find my way in these dark times. It's society that's a wrong-un not me. MAD?? Not a bit of it. It's society that's mad. Baaaaaaaaagh.
0 comments:
Post a Comment