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defrogI am shopping at a comics store that doesn’t exist in real life but I’ve come across frequently in my dreams recently. I see a box set for a popular anime called Supersonic Dyke Busters (which isn’t quite what it sounds like – it’s something closer to Gunsmith Cats) – the set includes a DVD, a comic book, eight miniature muscle cars featured in the series, and an action figure equipped with an oversized gun that can shoot different types of ammo from the same magazine – bullets, rockets, crossbolts, whatever. It’s HK$1,100, and I decide it’s worth getting.
I exit the comics store, which is located in a mall, and in a nearby atrium I see an open-air TV studio where I’m supposed to be serving as a panelist for some telephones-related discussion. I’d decided to skip it, so it seems they’ve put a hologram or robot or something in my place, because I can see me talking on the panel.
Scene shifts: I am at some company function set at a waterfront park by a lagoon. We’re doing an event of some kind, and it’s going to start soon. But the venue isn’t ready – there’s all this litter from the previous event before ours, so we start policing the area to get it cleaned up. I get too close to the waterfront and the platform collapses – I fall into the lagoon. My colleagues are laughing, but I’m shouting, “It’s not funny!” because I’m convinced there are sharks in the lagoon.
Later, I have to go back to the studio area to pick up my stuff – I’m naked, wrapped in just a blanket. The room is full of people – it’s a post-show reception of some kind. I meet a PR person for a company I met in Barcelona, she says, “So we gave you all that material and I haven't seen a story yet, so I was wondering when it might be coming out.” I don't want to tell her the interview was a wash, so I tell her I’m sitting on it for now and plan to write something later as part of a bigger article, but she obviously doesn’t believe me and isn’t pleased.
Scene shifts: I am walking along the side of a highway in China. A road crew is demolishing a discontinued flyover by blowing up drums of petrol with boxes of razor blades taped to them. “That’s bloggable,” I think, so I stop to film them with my camera-phone, then it occurs to me to take cover. The drum explodes. I feel some shrapnel land on my head – not hard, more like rain. I feel along my scalp and find a shard of metal stuck there, but it doesn’t seem to have penetrated the skin very deeply – there’s no blood.
And then I woke up.
Watch me explode,
This is dF
I exit the comics store, which is located in a mall, and in a nearby atrium I see an open-air TV studio where I’m supposed to be serving as a panelist for some telephones-related discussion. I’d decided to skip it, so it seems they’ve put a hologram or robot or something in my place, because I can see me talking on the panel.
Scene shifts: I am at some company function set at a waterfront park by a lagoon. We’re doing an event of some kind, and it’s going to start soon. But the venue isn’t ready – there’s all this litter from the previous event before ours, so we start policing the area to get it cleaned up. I get too close to the waterfront and the platform collapses – I fall into the lagoon. My colleagues are laughing, but I’m shouting, “It’s not funny!” because I’m convinced there are sharks in the lagoon.
Later, I have to go back to the studio area to pick up my stuff – I’m naked, wrapped in just a blanket. The room is full of people – it’s a post-show reception of some kind. I meet a PR person for a company I met in Barcelona, she says, “So we gave you all that material and I haven't seen a story yet, so I was wondering when it might be coming out.” I don't want to tell her the interview was a wash, so I tell her I’m sitting on it for now and plan to write something later as part of a bigger article, but she obviously doesn’t believe me and isn’t pleased.
Scene shifts: I am walking along the side of a highway in China. A road crew is demolishing a discontinued flyover by blowing up drums of petrol with boxes of razor blades taped to them. “That’s bloggable,” I think, so I stop to film them with my camera-phone, then it occurs to me to take cover. The drum explodes. I feel some shrapnel land on my head – not hard, more like rain. I feel along my scalp and find a shard of metal stuck there, but it doesn’t seem to have penetrated the skin very deeply – there’s no blood.
And then I woke up.
Watch me explode,
This is dF
