Graham Ellis's wondrous creation
last night I spent a good hour, pre-sleep preparing my sleeping mind to get MILITARY with the contextual demand I intended to make, having tried and tried and tried before, "What dream planet is this?"It's a pre-sleep quest I've invested quite a lot of pre-sleep meditation in; to no effect.
Every time I wake up in the middle of the night, having noted some new dream or some recurring theme or a new player within the dream, I've 'remembered' that I forgot to ask, "What dream planet is this?"
And nothing much changed last night, woke up, argh, forgot to ask; woke up again, after reinforing the question once again, my eyes flashing, as they do when I try to hang onto the dream state while conscious; and got a ride in an enormously-powerful massively-spoilered muscle car like the Plymouth Superbird dragster version above. Actually, I've dreamed about this car before - it nearly killed me as I crossed the busy street in this city dream.
Seriously, I'm not even sure if I'd nodded off again, but it was very vivid. They introduced themselves as the Galactic Federation of Dreamers, which I didn't like because it sounded like a blatant rip off of the Galactic Federation of Light which was so let down its naively obeisant messenger Blossom Goodchild on October 8th 2008.
Prior to the night's dreaming, I'd pumped myself up to get an answer to the simple question, "What dream planet is this?" I gave myself permission to use all sorts of extraction/erasure techniques to force my hand, I was prepared to do 'just about anything' to achieve my simple dream goal. Needless to say, a superfast car chase and a declaration of who they were was all I got for my campaign. Dreams are structurally resilient against our conscious intent or petty demands, it seems.
Oh, and later in the dream something called a HACKER MACHINE was delivered to the Group - apparently it's not the software that does the hacking. Whatever that means.
