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4:41:00 PM EDT
Hearing I Only Want You -- Eagles of Death Metal
Ejected From the House of Boing Boing
Jesse "The Devil" Hughes, BoingBoing contributors Mark Frauenfelder, David Pescovitz, John Battelle, Cory Doctorow, and Xeni Jardin
BoingBoing is more than just a blog. It's a mecca, a shining golden temple in the sky for pseudo-hipster geeks like me ... its blend of tech activism, great digital art and high internet weirdness is more than a little addictive to web content creators and consumers worldwide. Maybe addictive isn't the right term. Shrews aren't exactly addicted to eating, are they?
Apparently I'm enough of a BoingBoing fan and Web geek that the site has wound its delicate digital tentacles around the folds of my brain and crept into my subconscious. Here's the dream I had the other night -- what do you make of it?
*****
All of BoingBoing's contributors lived in a crumbling wooden house on a cliff overlooking the San Francisco Bay. The house was shaped exactly like the Hall of Justice from the Superfriends cartoon, but showed signs of serious termite damage on the front porch.
I walked up the gravel path in front of the house and knocked on the sagging screen door, but nobody answered. I called out a few times, but nobody answered -- so I gingerly let myself in. The interior of the house was decorated with all manner of spectacular original paintings by Shag, Coop and Robert Williams. The overwhelming decorative theme was a homey retro- futurism -- a stylistic mashup of Kubrick's interiors in '2001' and the Jungle Room at Graceland.
I tiptoed up a set of iridescent orange shag carpeted stairs to the second floor. On the wall at the first landing there was sky-blue cloth hanging on a hook next to a large glass porthole covered with thick condensation. Water dripped from the edge of the porthole, but boiled into mist before hitting the carpet. A small placard next to the porthole said simply "Tomorrow Evening."
I could hear muffled voices from further up the stairs and tiptoed up to investigate. Cory Doctorow sat in the middle of the room, reclining in a large easy chair. He was fast asleep with his laptop open, resting on his gently moving chest.
Cory had a shiny, robust handlebar moustache just like Jesse "The Devil" Hughes, singer/guitarist for the Eagles of Death Metal. Although I couldn't see them through the walls, I knew that 1) Mark Frauenfelder and David Pescovitz were up there as well, and 2) they also had Hughes-style moustaches.
I could hear a sizzling hum from a back room. "Cool!" David shouted. "Mark, you've really done it. Using old Kleenex, a USB port and Starbucks coffee grounds, you've invented a device that reverses global warming AND cracks DRM codes! Let me try!"
With that, Cory jerked awake. "Who the hell are you?" he asked. "And how did you get in here?" I stuttered and stumbled. Coolest house in the world or not, I hadn't been invited.
"Err, ah, Xeni's little brother is an old friend of mine, and I just thought ..." It's true, though. My friend Carl's older sister is Xeni Jardin. That held as much water with Cory as it does with anyone else I've told: zero.
He aimed a small laser pointer at me and pressed a button. Suddenly I found myself out in the oyster-shell parking lot, completely intact except totally barefoot. With a giant inhaling *pop* sound the house closed in on itself and vanished completely. I crept carefully across a field of broken oyster shells to the nearest intersection, raising a hand to hail a cab and preparing myself for a very long wait.
*****
Do you have any idea what this means? Let me know in the comments ...
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.... That you are as seriously deranged as the rest of us... maybe more so! LOL
be well,
Dawn
http://journals.aol.com/princesssaurora/CarpeDiem/ -
Clearly, you are trying to get someone to call Boing Boing's attention to this entry, and that they send some linky goodness your way. I ain't playing.
-Paul
http://journals.aol.ca/plittle/AuroraWalkingVacation/ -
It means you've got to stop eating Taco Bell before bed, Jeff.
Nice job, though. Way to yank your readers in with the Hall of Justice reference and your allusion to the fragile and capricious existence of popular blogs with the use of an infestation of termites. Indeed, one might assume you have dreams and aspirations of becoming a world famous blogging god, but you feel dreadfully underqualified to cross that velvet rope.
Either that, or you've got the hots for Xeni Jardin. And who'd blame ya, my friend. Who'd blame you?
-Dan
http://journals.aol.com/dpoem/TheWisdomofaDistractedMind/ -
sounds like a dream a man in the band imagined an oyster house where some of
the band relaxed in his dream man and the band is a talented group of artists
musicians computer art water dripping screen doors lazy boys but these guys are creative and unique,i always compliment rock and roll bands with a lovely lady tucked in the right side of the picture and california dreaming is becoming a reality
i think it's all abunch of fun and creative dreams and accomplishments a kind nice decent group of intellectuals having fun in the california sun.but when the house disappeared it was weird and kooky. a little bit spooky, but that's what dreams are made of,i think more artists should write down their dreams and prayers were so far away from the ancients, it's a cool dream from the dream state but it shows the group is cohesive and together proud of each others art work and well accomplished. now do a prayer and another dream and we'll be rocking.let's dream let's pray let's say today tomorrow and yesterdays still lend out inspiration that appears today ,it's abstraact and fun, but a little more old fashioned thinking could bring back the sun and the feelings we are all having fun!
10/3/06 10:44 PM