Waking Finnegan

“We are such stuff as dreams are made of, and our whole life is rounded with a sleep” ~ Shakespeare

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Location: zurich, Switzerland

Friday, February 18, 2005

Victim Dream


In some smorgasbord waiting in line with my dark brown bakelite food tray like in elementary school---heated-up inedible greenbeans and oddball concoctions with jiggling jello and I'm walking along making comments to one and all such as 'This stuff isn't even fit for retarded people's prison' and 'Whose graveyard did they dig this stuff up from?'---But then I see it. Oh man, sushi up ahead! I perk up for the attack now because I'm feeling like a shark---but what is this!? The conveyor is moving at a too-fast clip and I see now that the sushi section is past the point where the line is backed up from the register---why is the goddamned conveyor still moving? I yell out for them to 'Stop the fucking conveyor belt!' It doesn't and now I'm coming up to the line like I'm on a camera dolly but I'm hellbent and like dominos the line goes down and I'm jumping on people in order to keep up with my tray---I miraculously manage to grab what appears to be uni and maguro, but I can't reach the crab, which is what I really want. Everyone is cursing me out but I'm happier than a squirting clam and then and there bite full of chompers into my good luck sushi----but, when I bite the uni, it's jawbreaker hard.---I realize now it's one of the those plastic window display food mannequins like you find all over Japan and Little Tokyos everywhere---but now surround-sound laughter and an older bald guy comes over and taps me on the shoulder prompting me to come with him and I'm now painfully remorseful-worried about all the people treading and let him escort me...where? As I walk past my knocked-down victims, they all grin madly and begin clapping in rhythm---then a few official-looking men saunter over as we're walking and along the high-wax floor and join the escort---but I'm calm now, not really caring about whatever 'just desserts' await me. The bald guy---don't I know him from somewhere? He looks vaguely like that Olympics documentary guy named Bud Greenspan? We stop at a gigantic curtained entry and I can hear a real hubbub happening on the other side of an oversized door with flashing red lights above and now a bell goes off, the light turns green, and an MC voice belts out 'Ladies and gentlemen, heeeeeere's Alan!' The bald guy looks to me nudges me and smiles, saying: 'That would be me, son!'. And now I know who he is. It's not Greenspan but Allen Funt of Candid Camera and I realize instantly I'm the 'victim' and now we're walking onto a stage in front of a live t.v. audience and it's white bright now---can't see a thing except a huge teleprompter. But then in a panic I bolt for the stage door on the opposite end and while I'm dashing the whole audience is hooting it up and I take a big pratfall slide like I'm stealing home plate and as I come to a grinding halt I hear the drummer let off a big rim-shot but I scuttle back up on my feet, fall again and more rimshots as I do this over and over. Now I realize I'm a hit with the crowd and start tap-dancing furiously. More laughter and big clapping. I try doing a break dance (not even knowing how), but thinking 'Nothing can stop me now, 'cause I am a Star! But my breakdance skit gets all tangled and now my back's kinked and I'm stuck in place like a seized up frozen lobster. Now what do I do? Some big veiny bouncer guy dressed up as a pro wrestler comes over and starts chuckling and tells me: 'You fucked up dude. A big time flop, and you could have made a million'. I say: 'But Wait. I've got more up my sleeve!'

10 Comments:

Anonymous Anonymous said...

Very funny - throughly enjoyed it.
Also like your pictures.

6:36 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Anonymous...wish there weren't an anonymous option here so that I could say thanks.

8:50 PM  
Blogger D-Thinker said...

I like your audio clip too, I will definatly be watching this site.

11:16 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Thanks diary thinker.

That audio clip is of James Joyce himself reading from Ulysses, much of which he wrote while living 3 blocks from where I live in Seefeld Züruch. The place is now an Alfa Romeo auto dealership/garage---more apropos and a helluva lot more poetic than a Hummer or Hyundai, don't you think?

11:34 AM  
Blogger Stephanie said...

just to let you know I was here

4:18 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Ok

6:02 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

hello finnegan love the illustration

8:07 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

hello finnegan love the illustration

8:07 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

hello finnegan love the illustration

8:07 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

So you love the illustration illustration illustration. Thanks Thanks Thanks.

8:17 PM  

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