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, November 04, 2005

Riverboat Dream (That Side)

The same sort of whitened rails from the jungle trail that I rode in on line the outer edges of the steamboat. The forward momentum of the dream stops where the boat is moored on a hump of basalt. The vessel feels lighter than it should---even hollow. I notice the rails are not the same supportive ones from the path, but instead are wobbly with loose rusted bolts. A feeling of imminent collapse is in the air, and so I want off. But now I'm far from the river's edge and while I'm debating about what might happen if I jump, the boat goes down.

The water below is crystal clear and fresh, like the inside of a fish tank. The vessel is sinking below me; somehow still whole but headed straight down. The paddle wheel is spinning mad bubbly swirls, cutting everything loose into smaller pieces. Like a runaway mower, the boat paddles down towards the sandy bottom, the rickety hull skin being shed while revealing something much newer underneath.

Later. I'm floating away from the crest on a broken chunk of "old-timer" wooden surfboard tattooed with Maori patterns. Looking back towards the river crest where I went down, I can see great masses of boat flotsam getting churned by the paddle wheel to the water's surface. And as I'm watching all the flotsam rise, the boat, much newer but still antique, emerges out of the water like a breaching whale, white spray spouting out the stacks. The paddle wheel is rotating madly, suspending the entire hull on the surface while turning the boat slowly round on its axis, upending, submerging, resurfacing, then splashing down and going under.

A pontoon biplane is heading towards me. It's as if it were riding on an invisible coaster track, touching the water lightly when dipping down. The hippy goggled pilot in the cockpit gives me the thumbs-up as he passes. He circles several times above the "dance arena", writing cryptic smoke signals that I'm unable to decipher. Then he heads straight up, nosedives, and at the last instant before hitting the water he swoops up, pauses and slowly descends tail first. The bi-wings begin rotating like a hover craft while the smoking tail-pipe gargles each time it alights on the water.

And then the crazy riverboat bobs to the surface,
levitating above the water with wild paddle wheel gone insane and smoke stacks chuffing out a jitterbuggy tune and everything jumping like a whirly-gig---a gyrating rockin'-in-rhythm pair...and my epiphany knows no bounds. "Well this is really it. They are for real!"

But the scene drifts away, getting smaller and less real. I'm thinking "Why hasn't anyone thought of an old-time riverboat show like this?" With this gut feeling I realize that if I get back upriver and contact the friendly and talented pilot, I'll be able to convince him of my plans and collect a finder's fee.


Blogger floots said...

Get on to Mel Gigson and Peter Boyle. There's a movie in here.

More seriously: basalt humping, worries about a wobbly rail, a steamboat going down - "Ah! I zink I zee a pattern Mr Finnegan."
(But I like it! :) )

8:27 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

You are a dirty old man and I like it. And I like humping basalt and humpback whales. However, the wobbly rail and sinking steamboat are worrisome. All abort!

IDIQLOTS A boat load of smart folks who have many sources of identification on their persons.

11:59 AM  
Blogger Enemy of the Republic said...

Hmmm. Is this really a dream or stream of conscious aligned with the objective camera bird's eye view point of view? Or am I being self-indulgent here.

I think this is some fine writing. I'm hooked!

1:53 PM  
Blogger karma said...

sink or swim, eh?

nice bookends :))

4:54 PM  
Anonymous allan said...

I thought about inventing some nice psychobabble to explain everything.

It is better left open...

6:04 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Enemy of the Republic
It is a real dream tailored to fit pixel width and length. You can be as self indulgent as you like; that's what blogging is mostly about. I'm flattered that you are hooked!

Aren't those bookends terrific? Wish they were mine too. No time to fashion them for myself.

Ok, good enough.

8:15 PM  
Blogger RuKsaK said...

I read this a couple of days ago and tried to summarise how it made me feel. The reluctant hero gives off a sense of foreboding I was going to say - and at the moment I started typing my computer completely gave up the ghost - so here I am - trying again after a $130 bill for repairs and typing (uncomfortably) with crossed fingers - which makes me feel like you in the dream.

4:29 AM  
Blogger Trudging said...

Thanks for stopping by my Blog.

1:00 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Giving up the virtual ghost for 130 buckos is cheap compared to the real deal. Better uncross your fingers for more
stories Ruk; it feels like a long cold winter ahead. What say we keep each other warm with new and improved "digital" adventures?
Sometimes a sheet of paper and wooden pencil (with a knive to keep it sharp) is the best damned computer around.

6:26 PM  
Blogger Grace said...

'Nice bookends'...now I've never had a complement like that! Sounds like youre on the brink of change? I look forward to seeing your Flash powered blog. I am still struggling with it!

8:53 PM  
Blogger Perfect Virgo said...

My recurring dream is of an air crash. I am not a victim but a ground-based observer. Twin engined 777 is impossibly low over my cityscape and inevitably crash lands at speed.

I was reminded of it by your account of capsizing and general watery shenanegans. Disaster dreaming is an intense experience Finn, much like your writing.

10:21 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

don't hold your breath. I am slower than mole asses.

perfect virgo
This was only a disaster inasmuch as I lost the original swinging singers. The plane and boat were odd surrogate stars I can assure you Virgo.

Your 777 would be one wide-winged crash test. Lets hope the plane is full of dummies, at least for the sake of the dream's disaster clean-up crew.

And once again my good man, thanks!

10:39 PM  
Blogger Queen Neetee said...

For some reason, I became fascinated by a broken chunk of "old-timer" wooden surfboard tattooed with Maori patterns. The visual of it hit me like a brick. If I see anything written or drawn in a dream it sends my mind searching for a closer view of its detail.

finn when reading your dreams I feel that I am in that space behind closed eyes too. That space is very disturbing at times because nightmares can't utilize closed eyes as an escape route. What in the world must you feel while dreaming?

Your delivery is so very affective.

old kriss kringle endows ingeniously

11:54 PM  
Blogger rhein said...

finn, i love the last paragraph-

12:53 PM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

I fell into this one from dizzying heights and floudered around for awhile clinging to the wreckage of yet another one of your dreams.
I'm hooked like a fish whose mouth is barbed by your line. Whose mind is fluid but whose body is rigid. The way you play the dream around to fit your scheme is an imaculate conception right here on earth.
Wonderful as always!

2:39 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

The Maori patterns...where does stuff like that enter? I've probably thought about Maori culture and symolic tattooing a handful of times in my whole life. But I do remember coming across it on some site or another while surfing the Net recently. Hmmm. I'm going to look in my surf history to see what's up with that. It could be a subject for a doctoral dissertation: "The Influences of Internet Surfing on Dreams". Or: "Memories, Dreams and Internet Surfing". You can pretty much bet university students worldwide are digging up precious nuggets from this mother lode of thesis topics.

The visual of it hit me like a brick...what in the world must you feel while dreaming? I feel like I've been hit by a brick. Call me Krazy Kat.

You love the last paragraph. I love your name, which is quite apt for this dream.

cocaine jesus
Oh Jesus, you're making me blush you flounder you! Ain't no denying that you are the original Utility Fish, hook line and sinker.

11:10 PM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

You sure you don't mean STINKER? I mean, I am a low life dandy that's for sure but a fisherman? Hah! blame my bastard offspring for that stuff on the Utility site.

Back to your post now though.
Maori's. Aussie Aborigines. American Native Indians. In fact all of those wonderful people have such a wealth of knowledge and learning and art to give to us all don't they? and such a simple back to earth basic life style too.
We could and should learn from them.

3:30 PM  
Blogger . : A : . said...

I am convinced that this one has to go on ...

3:50 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

There are simple back-to-earth
basic lifestyles

there are simple, back-to-earth
basic lifestyles

there are simple back-to-earth
basic lifestyles

there are simple back-to-earth basic

and on and on and on

there are many
more of these
all of them
too complex
to couple
for any


And if I continue
on this lifestyle thread

(more or less)

I'll lose the seam
of my latest dream

5:02 PM  
Blogger sirbarrett said...

I was scared there for a second. So much action and chaos. I thought maybe the biplane was going to pluck you out of the water. Where is this, the south seas? Floots is right about this being movie-material.

5:22 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

South Seas? Why not! Movie material needs much more "pluck", if you will. Thanks for stopping by!

9:25 PM  
Blogger sCruuw said...

Can you tell me what kinda drugs inspired this post... I WANT SOME!


10:07 AM  
Blogger gulnaz said...

why is my comment not showing???
:( i posted one days ago...anyway just wanted to tell you that this one really read like a movie scene!

7:14 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

I overdosed on Captain Crunch.

Dunno why your comment is not showing Gulnaz. I can never figure these oddities that
we run into on occasion. Same thing has happened to me on others' sites, and so I know
your frustration well.

Thanks for the comment. A lot of folks have commented that my dreams a cinematic. I think it says
more about cinema (and that this could be so) than my dreams.

12:00 AM  
Blogger sCruuw said...

Ahh! I might need to change up the Apple Jacks I eat!

10:56 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I'm partial to Frosted Flakes.

6:25 AM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

Frosted Flakes sounds sultry. Who is she? Is she a blogger or someones mistress? I cannot afford a mistress. Not that I don't have the cash, I do but my son has a large knife and I am scared of what he might do with if he caught me with my pants down in someone else's boudoir.
Of course there are always poodles but, hey c'mon frenchie, we all know that the poodle bites and my wife would wonder where all the teeth marks in my pecker came from.
Guess that I am just a hopeless case.
Ever. Erotic. Dreams. Come. Yapping. Remotely.

6:16 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Don't change up your Jacks. They are an essential component for good living.

Frosted Flakes are impartial you know

baby cocaine jesus in bulging nappies
Frosted Flakes is a crunchy vamp with no milk left to squirt I guess. And why would you need a mistress when you're ensconsed where you are on my banner block? You a in the eye of a female banner typhoon. (Do typhoons actually have eyes?)

And don't think I missed the Zappa reference. I know "Overnight Sensation" like the back of my eyeballs. Dinah-Moe-Hum would be the one to leave teeth marks.

D'you think I could interest you
In a pair of zircon-encrusted tweezers perchance?

The energy pills downed by Dinah-Moe-Hum to give her more bite.

8:32 PM  
Blogger gulnaz said...

cinema is kind of a dream and the energy, the vividness and the story telling of your dreams makes them cinematic.

8:39 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Are they cinematic enough that you smell popcorn? If so, I've got salt and butter.

11:55 AM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Yes I think you could market your idea, a sort of dream park mabey

8:26 PM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

I'd pay to visit that park but I am busy watching the slime ooze all over my living room floor. Guess I'd better clean it up.

ZAPPA. OR. CAPTAIN(beefheart). COMES.(the).QUERY

11:58 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

sue hardy-dawson
Well there's a theme park in Orange County near L.A. and not far from Disneyland called Nutts Berry Farm (or something)
where they've already cornered the market.

cocaine jesus
The gross and perverted stuff from your T.V. set no doubt.

By the way, Captain Beefheart is here: http://www.beefheart.com/

10:27 AM  
Blogger Queen Neetee said...

I like the new look of your page. Quite natty indeed.

1:41 AM  
Blogger stella said...

enterprising even when all else goes under, i love that... ;)

4:35 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

queen neetee
thanks love. i do love putting on the threads you know.
did you catch a glimpse of the little cocaine fishy sitting under you?
a deft swimmer he is.

oh there you are. i was wondering how you were getting on. i'll be
heading over to your house after i return from work. could you put
some earl grey in the pot for me love? two lumps. no cream.

8:08 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

Big fat juicy dreams you have.

How in the heck can you remember them?
Where on earth does this stuff come from?
Who are you? I love the strangely beautiful writing.

I wish I could write like this.

11:34 PM  
Blogger gautami tripathy said...

That was one good read! Interesting!

6:23 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

Thanks for your fat juicy thoughts.

Gautami Tripathy
Thanks for your kind input.

7:51 PM  
Blogger Bouls said...

This is so funny. After all this creative and explosive imagery, in the end it all boils down to getting a monetary deal out of the whole thing. "Such a deal!" Bouls

4:45 AM  

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