Bug Thoughts

Assuming I remain capable of counting correctly, I am currently sporting nearly thirty mosquito bites on my person. I can’t remember having such a mosquito attack ever in my life. As far as my memory goes, most years I average only two or three bites all Summer. What the chunks is with this year?

Haiku!

What’s a ladybird?
That does not look like a bird.
The English are nuts.

Continuing my thoughts on insects, it does seem like when I was a child my experience with insects was more grasshoppers, ladybugs, and butterflies. Now it is more about moths, beg bugs, and fruit flies (thankfully not yet in the form of having bed bugs, but they do affect my life). This is probably simply explained by my moving from suburbs to city and switching from diurnal to nocturnal, but it still creates a sort of dividing wall between my youth and the now that I am finding interesting. I’m sure plenty of other such walls exist that I just haven’t given thoughts to yet.

Anyway, there are constants and they just happen to include my favorites, like ants and bees. Those guys are alright.

Hey there, grey hair.

Here’s something I’ve been meaning to talk about for a couple months, but keep forgetting: I found a grey hair on my chin. And not just some loose grey hair that happened to land there, either. It’s totally one I’m growing myself. I’m gonna be a big boy soon!

I tried to take a picture, but my camera doesn’t seem to be good enough to get such a fine image. You’ll all just have to trust me when I say that on the left side of my chin there’s a single white strand.

It’s a good thing for me that I already did my obsession with mortality when I was nine, because now I can experience growing slowly more distinguished without the knowledge of my fleeting youth weighing heavily on me. I pity the many who have been convinced by modern society to fight a battle that is literally impossible to win just because putting such a value on youth is helpful in keeping people unhappy, and thus swaying them to purchase what you’re selling. Or something like that.

After all, why would PDR have any desire to more resemble a generation he has no desire to be a part of? Right?

Justice-Man Begins

When I was a young man, I created a superhero. His name was Justice-Man. Click below if you want to read a story about him set exactly sixteen years ago:

It’s hard to read old pencil-on-paper scanned onto the computer (though I’ve had the Space Army up for years), but I just feel like Justice-Man is an important PDR creation who deserves to be on the site. Hopefully someday I’ll get a chance to revisit this character.

It’s been a while…

I was thinking, it has probably been over a decade since I’ve ridden a bicycle. It feels strange to know this. I had bikes as a kid, like, most of the time, I think. One of my first jobs involved me riding from place to place on bicycles. But then there was this Summer when I was seventeen or so where I had two bikes stolen from my shed, mere months apart, and after that I just didn’t get another one.

I live in the city side of the city now. There are more cars here than there were in Eastern Passage. I’m not sure how comfortable I’d be riding a bike on these streets. I am confident that I would still be physically able to ride a bike though. Remembering how to ride a bike is so easy that there’s an expression about it, after all.

It has also been bizarrely long since I have:

  • Been to a dentist
  • Eaten cereal
  • Seen an episode of any Star Trek

What is the world coming to?

PDR’s Controversial Beliefs: I like hearing about dreams

Something I’ve seen many times over the years over the years on television and the Internet is people saying that talking about one’s dreams makes one a bore. Basically what it all boils down to is the message that “Yeah, dreams are weird, we get it.” Well I hate to go against television and the Internet, but I am here to say that I totally like hearing about dreams. I often like hearing about dreams more than I like hearing about actual things that have happened to people.

Maybe somehow the complainers have just been so overwhelmed by descriptions of dreams that it has grown tiresome, but as someone who doesn’t do a whole lot of talking to people (and talking about dreams makes up such a small, small portion of that talking) this is not a problem for me. I love the surreality of dreams so much that my own occasionally remembered dreams are not enough to fill my interest. Hearing about good strangeness from the subconsciousnesses of others is the only way I can think to fill the void.

I’m not, however, one of those people who likes analyzing what the “symbols” in dreams mean. My dreams are typically so bizarre that I have doubt that any such meaning is in there. Plus, the oddness is what I like most about the dreams, so why ruin it?

With this in mind I’m going to repost something from the Contains2 era. Though the dream in question happened years earlier, I had discussed it often enough that the details were still fresh in my mind on Saturday 22 of June 2002 when I posted this:

The OJ Simpson Bus-Boat Dream

Okay, I had this dream once, years ago (I think it was in grade ten, so whichever year that was). I’ve had myself a lot of strange dreams (and it seems like 75% of them are set in malls, is there some sort of symbolism behind that?) but this dream is up there in it’s not being surreal, not just being wacky. I’ve told it to many people, and now I’m going to write it up here to prevent me from forgetting even more of it than I already have.

I don’t think it actually started at this point, but this is where my memories kick in:

I’m in my own house, and I’m a butler. I’m going through my various duties and I happen to look out my window. Just as it does in the real world the window has a view of the Atlantic Ocean. Out there, driving on the ocean at the horizon is a bus, which I immediately recognize as the OJ Simpson Bus-Boat. Not finding this at all strange, I go back to work.

But when I look out the window again, I see that the Bus-Boat has changed course. It’s heading directly for my house! I dive away from the window, and I hear the Bus-Boat crashing onto the area in front of my house.

Things get blurry right here again, but I think I talked to my parents for a few minutes about the Bus-Boat having crashed in front of our house. When my memory comes clear again…

A panoramic, birds-eye-view of the Bus-Boat (now that it is on land it’s a boat. A military ship actually, maybe even a carrier) as it is cordoned off by military personnel and helicopters circle it (military or media? I couldn’t tell you). It’s about the size that such a boat would really be, and takes up the length of my street (Himmelman Drive, Boy!). In the real world, the road is curved, but the boat manages just fine.

Things get blurry again and then me and a guy who I knew from school at the time are disguising ourselves as water deliverymen to sneak into the Bus-Boat. I don’t know what happened inside, but when we came out I had found a secret device: An Electric Arm!

I don’t think my memory is blurry here, I think the dream just skipped scenes and suddenly I was wearing the Electric Arm and leading a team of commandos or mercenaries or something. We’re fighting this ogre and he’s got us cornered on a winding staircase that has a big brass pole at its center. The ogre repeatedly charges at us and I hold him off by hitting him with the Electric Arm. Each time I strike the ogre numbers fly out of him and he moves back. Eventually we’re at the top of the stairs and the ogre is at the bottom resting against the brass pole. Brilliantly, I use my Electric Arm on the pole, sending a shock down and forcing the ogre to run away.

I think the dream went on, but that is all I can still remember. For a dream I had like six years ago, I think that’s pretty good. (Wow! I don’t even think I did the math wrong, I think it really has been six years since grade ten.)
If there is any meaning behind that dream, I certainly don’t get it.