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

Monday, May 01, 2006

Biker Chick


I'm driving through a lost Ville of dark diChirico shadows and glaring sun-bleached stucco. Mongolian desert devils are dervishing in the distance and my skull is getting baked. The air is so clear that the landscape seems ready to shatter.

Reflected in my rear-view mirror is a biker chick wearing leather pants and a tank top taking up the rear seats of the Mustang convertible I've borrowed...rented...stolen?. I'm trying to find the right button on the steering column to set the cruise control and instead I trigger a full-blown circus of windshield wipers, sprays, electric windows and seat adjustments. A tinny Jack-in-the-Box "intercom" voice comes through the horn speaker and announces that "There's a dead woman in the back seat...more news at the top of the hour". I turn around and the woman, much larger now, is sprawled out on a hillock of food encrusted fast food wrappers, cartons and beverages. She scratches her head slowly to gather up all her drunken brain cells and plant a hard stare on me.
"You were curious if I was dead, weren't you? Weren't you!


"Ah, M'am. Your weight is putting too much pressure on the suspension---the springs and tires are gonna go---this isn't even my ride!

I wonder about always being too polite in these situations. Maybe I should be more willful here so there'll be less trouble down the road. But then I'm apprehensive because she's so Big and Mean-looking and why's she scratching her head like a chimp?

Forlorn and tragic towns further on with bogus Sonoran cacti wilting in sidewalk planters. A Main Street billboard advertising "Race Shaving Cream" shows the finish line sprint with a dromedary trying to out-nose a buck-toothed donkey. Another billboard shows wild-eyed men with outstretched arms and distended eyeballs escaping from exploding mine shafts and oil derricks. Aaahhh! Terrorists! Oil! Eureka! More cinematic billboards posted. "Signpost City" As we exit the town a grande finale of billboards shows a foreshortened vanishing perspective view of an epic mastaba made up of rusted oil barrels. It appears to be some sort of land-going tanker.

I look back and she's still looking right through me and is now scratching her head with tremendous intention.

"You've got lice!" I tell her. I turn around quickly to see her reaction...and she's gone. Maybe she's slunk down on to the floorboard---maybe she's...

"And You've Got MAIL!" she screams in my face. "Harharhar. Took you a few seconds to figger out where that one came from dinnit? D'ya see the movie?" "Back of your cute little car is way too small and way too trashy which makes me look big and stinky which is what you're thinking and why I'm ridin' up front where it's clean and the leather smells excellent!

Closeup: Her five-o'clock face is freshly-shaven and her heavy talc is flaking off in the swirling car wind.

"You love music, so tell me where this song is from!" She begins humming and singing some weary country and western ditty with good lords almighty and jumpin' jesuses running around everywhere. I'm keeping my eyes peeled for any oncoming traffic and fleet-footed road critters.

"Do you mind if I turn on the radio? I ask. "I need to hear the traffic report."

She's working on another hymn and I decide to leave it on cruise and jump in the back. The trash has cleared and the car has become much more spacious and grand. It's a souped-up much plusher version of my mom's prehistoric DeSoto. "Push-button 25th-Century heaven brought to you by Buck Rogers!"

Bike Chick gets up close and in my ear gently says "Why don't you tune in?" "I'm here to show you a quality of sound that might heal you. Don't you get it?"

And she begins another song the same way as the others but then hits the luxury radio dial and sets off a sonic flow so sonorous and full of deep spirituality that I am instantly moved by it. She winks and then pops and launders a huge wad of bubble gum and, noticing the dashboard cracks---saying we'd better get it mended because it's an ideal breeding spot for lice and bacteria. She begins pulling elastic taffy stringers out of her mouth and curling them into little impromptu vinyl patches which she tucks into the cracks. I'm astonished how deft she is---wondering where she's gotten this sort of training.

She toys with the dial---picks up some sputnik blips and beeps and suddenly finds a rhythmic static. She opens the glove box and slides out a super high-tech mixing board and dials the knobs and says "We need the right galaxy. I need a Pulsar...got it!"

"Now I will sing from within."


A hip-pumping rhythmic flow sweeps over the cruiser and Biker Chick has become the man she'd been hinting at in my half-illuminated mind. She is Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan Biker Chick who begins a slow-burning devotional song mixed with the Pulsar chorus from the tuner. Siberia. Tuva. Balinese Valhallas and Samarkand. Algerian wails and Qawwali howls to the moon and back. It is Khan himself!

I am lucid now, reconfiguring the bedsheets into sails for my drunken ship. This
Mustang bed vessel had last been rolling up glorious oriental coasts full of hitchhikers and stowaways with Hunter Thompson always nearby. On we rode till the long awaited traffic report finally came by way of an old Yoda-like sage (who ended up doing all the driving) and began to warn us of tsunamis and end-of-the-world tornadoes. Tsunamis! Tornadoes! I remember telling him to go east at the next Pacific grove.

44 Comments:

Blogger Perfect Virgo said...

Fantastic miniature detail Finn. Amazing how in our dreams we don't quash the whole premise by querying from the start an unlikely presence. I think your back seat passenger could be male or female but chooses the guise of biker chick maybe to lull you.

Which of us has not sat behind the wheel of an unfamiliar rental car inadvertantly summoned the circus of electronic activity you describe? I have.

The dromedary/donkey sprint is a smart-as-hell advert. The rolling video of your mind's eye is convincing and frightening and full of crazy but plausible details. This is the Mustang ride from hell - did you drink petrol instead of Ovaltine before bed? Oh, and get a haircut!

11:29 PM  
Blogger Queen Neetee said...

dreamy finn - Here's a huge Vinnie Barbarino WHOA!!!

This is the most unbelievable dream, ever! I don't even know where to begin or where to apply my amazement first.

I must tell you how I usually read your dreams. Well, I squint my eyes as I read along, and pull in close to the screen - unknowingly at the time - inch by inch due to the fascinating detail with which you tell them. This one called for the same behavior.

I'm driving through a lost Ville of dark diChirico shadows and glaring sun-bleached stucco. Mongolian desert devils are dervishing in the distance and my skull is getting baked. The air is so clear that the landscape seems ready to shatter.
This reads like a savvy opening for a very hep novel. I love it!

Your amazing stylized translation of this dream makes me think of what an extremely difficult mathematical equation would read like if the numbers and symbols were replaced by words of a creative nature.

Simply AMAZING!
Dream on.

4:43 AM  
Blogger Cocaine Jesus said...

a beaker full of too much cheese was consumed before bedtime methinks. i mean that fucking woman/man with the shaven face is enough to freak out even clint or arnie.
the mustang needs a spring clean and that woman/man needs culling (and double quick time too!). maybe use that revolver or just an apeman baseball bat.
as for yoda...

oh man wotta dream.

ZREVBW

Zee Reverend Eternals Vertebrae Buckles Willowsupple

9:14 AM  
Blogger Minka said...

Wow, your imagination is quite an amazing place. Things even get musical. Your writing on othe rhand is hilarious:

"Closeup: Her five-o'clock face is freshly-shaven and her heavy talc is flaking off in the swirling car wind."
That had me laughign real hard.
Well done!

6:43 PM  
Blogger floots said...

read this this morning
had to go out
two girls hitching
but moving their hands in some strange way
daren't pick 'em up
"finn sez no" i yelled
(ok i made up the yell)
what a spooky joyride
i visualised this sonny barger bristly chick
frightened me to death
loved it
(had to look up mastaba though)
cheers

9:10 PM  
Blogger Maddy said...

now i will sing from within...

this is a clearing of the
throat for sure with
crystal details and
giant flashes of your wails
and howls...and i was
a bit scared to be truthful
of this lady...
high tech color today...

whoaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa!!!

11:00 PM  
Blogger bittersweet said...

lol
I cracked up at the very same line.

and hey, where did you get that picture of a bird in a leather jacket & hat? :P

2:58 AM  
Blogger Sculpt Me said...

what a disastrous fiasco!
my great-grandma has a beard; I hate kissing her.

4:16 AM  
Blogger _Soulless_ said...

why's she scratching her head like a chimp?

now scratching her head with tremendous intention.

"You've got lice!" I tell her.


Wahahahaha! This is hilarious! Gyahahahaha! I can't get over it!

Her five-o'clock face is freshly-shaven and her heavy talc is flaking off in the swirling car wind.

You've made her so real to me, Finn. *chuckles* What. A. Character. *whistles* This Biker Chick is sure gonna be remembered long after this post's gone to the archives.

Now, take your bow. *applause*

11:24 AM  
Blogger karma said...

finn, after finding out it was the Khan himself, am sure you had a wonderful time listening! hope you didn't touch that radio

4:06 PM  
Blogger David E. Patton said...

good writing.

3:29 AM  
Blogger Patry Francis said...

My favorite image in a post with many to choose from: "reconfiguring the bedsheets into sails for my drunken ship."

5:24 AM  
Anonymous cooper said...

Islamic devotionalists voice and Hunter T- tonoadoes- tsunamis.............

biker chick-nots all welded together almost too tightly for one to breath.

Dichotomous yet not so much in reality.

I would have paid for that dream although I'm sure it benefits from the written expression and in reality would probably not live up
to your written expression of it.

5:24 AM  
Blogger Dr. Charles said...

lots of good images, i couldn't help reading this with the symbolism of the worst parts of america embodied in the large woman in the back seat. i'm a patriot, but that ignorant largeness is all around. cool dream.

9:29 PM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

It's astonishing how your writing manages to approximate how the dream mind operates. Time warping and mental gymnastics and surreal visuality all dance together in amazing ways. How do you do it?

5:33 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

P.VIRGO
Amazing how in our dreams we don't quash the whole premise by querying from the start an unlikely presence. I think your back seat passenger could be male or female but chooses the guise of biker chick maybe to lull you.

You hit the dream-nail on the head, Virgo. Although dreaming can be supremely non-linear, lateral thinking seems to operate quite differently from the conscious mind. Biker chicks have always fascinated me since I the time I saw Nancy Sinatra in Roger Corman's "The Wild Angels". But this one in the back seat was an updated x-tra oversized version.

Which of us has not sat behind the wheel of an unfamiliar rental car inadvertantly summoned the circus of electronic activity you describe? I have. Ditto.

...The dromedary/donkey sprint is a smart-as-hell advert. This is the Mustang ride from hell - did you drink petrol instead of Ovaltine before bed? Oh, and get a haircut!
No, P.V. I drank a milky desert plant concoction called dream-a-dairy.



QUEEN NEETEE
...And yours is the most amazing comment I've ever received! I'm humbled, really.

Your amazing stylized translation of this dream makes me think of what an extremely difficult mathematical equation would read like if the numbers and symbols were replaced by words of a creative nature.

Wow. I am triply flattered, since I was a finalist in the Guiness Book of Ignominious World Records. That head-scratching chimp is me. whenever I try to add things up, they automatically divide and subtract.


COCAINE JESUS
a beaker full of too much cheese was consumed before bedtime methinks. i mean that fucking woman/man with the shaven face is enough to freak out even clint or arnie.

I was actually ill when I had this dream. The only fuel I had was delirium.

maybe use that revolver or just an apeman baseball bat.

I'll go with The Beatles' "Revolver". I'm only sleeping.


MINKA
Things even get musical. See "Revolver".


FLOOTS
two girls hitching
but moving their hands in some strange way
daren't pick 'em up
"finn sez no" i yelled
(ok i made up the yell)

I read about those escaped siamese twins who are "at large" in Scotland. Be careful.



MADDY
this is a clearing of the throat for sure with crystal details and giant flashes of your wailsand howls...
and i was a bit scared to be truthful of this lady...high tech color today...

The clearing of the throat and wailing had a lot to do with my whooping (and hollering)cough. I was so sick that I actually called in my epitaph at the mortuary. It reads: "What the hell are you staring at?"



BITTERSWEET
hey, where did you get that picture of a bird in a leather jacket & hat?
I did a search for "Biker Chicks" and that's what came up. Then I did a little tailoring of my own.


HUDDLED MASS
what a disastrous fiasco! my great-grandma has a beard; I hate kissing her.
Is it a full-blown Rip Van Winkle, or just a bit of scruff? I'm impressed.
But if you hate kissing it, maybe you should get her an electric shaver next X-mas.


SOULESS
You've made her so real to me, Finn. *chuckles* What. A. Character. *whistles* This Biker Chick is sure gonna be remembered long after this post's gone to the archives. Now, take your bow. *applause*
These oversized people somehow seem to be played by the same character done up in various guises. There's always something of the theatre in their makeup. Or visa-versa.


KARMA
finn, after finding out it was the Khan himself, am sure you had a wonderful time listening! hope you didn't touch that radio
The great Khan was interrupted by a station break advertising Preparation H. I guess if anyone was able to pop a vein...


DAVID E. PATTON
Thanks.


PATRY FRANCIS
Don't you sometimes wake up in the middle of your dream feeling soused?


COOPER
I would have paid for that dream although I'm sure it benefits from the written expression and in reality would probably not live up to your written expression of it.
Sort of like the comparison folks make between literary and filmed renditions I guess. I find the abstract nature of dreams allows me to experiment with how to use words in the same spirit.


DR CHARLES
Yeah, she was embodied all right. And all around as well.


ANON
I just start typing at the keyboard each time. Whatever happens happens. Thanks for stopping whoever you are.

2:22 PM  
Blogger rgmb said...

I'm driving through a lost Ville of dark diChirico shadows and glaring sun-bleached stucco. Mongolian desert devils are dervishing in the distance and my skull is getting baked. The air is so clear that the landscape seems ready to shatter.

The imagery is so poetic!

I was all ready to hop in that car with you until biker chick started scratching.

Based on your answer to anonymous, it sounds like you're saying this is more of a waking dream that you type as it flows from subconscious to conscious thought. Is this the case? Otherwise, I'll have some of what you're having....

8:01 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

RGMB
Based on your answer to anonymous, it sounds like you're saying this is more of a waking dream that you type as it flows from subconscious to conscious thought. Is this the case? Otherwise, I'll have some of what you're having....

I was answering what I thought was a rhetorical question from Anonymous, rather than a technical one. These are dreams recalled from my nighttime dreams which I take notes from upon waking. I dream every night unfailingly, but many are prosaic and not worth the effort to jot down and reconstruct.

My conscious focus on dreaming has brought on more frequent lucidity. Maybe your question (about whether I typed my subsconsious thoughts) will one day be answered with a "yes".

Here's an online book by James L. Forberg I'm certain you'll find fascinating. I'll drop a virtual copy off at Zataod's, since he practices sitting meditation.
The chapters are listed on the left column with the site set up like a PDF file.

8:33 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

By the way, the book (above) is much more pleasant to read if you simply download the Word doc (on the lower right of the Home page) and convert it to a PDF file.

8:46 AM  
Blogger boudica of suburbia said...

I am still amazed that you remember anything. I guess it takes training, so to speak.

xxB

5:55 PM  
Blogger boulies said...

Finney, Wow, I feel like I just came off of a roller coaster. This was fun and exciting in a very scary, freakish kind of way. The idea of an unwanted stranger unexpectedly popping up in the back seat has been used so often in films to scare us. I think that sort of fear is just natually implanted in most of us. I always look in my back seat at night just to make sure. What a strange and disconcerting character you've created here. Not your usual back seat freak. "She scratches her head slowly to gathter up all her drunken brain cells and plant a hard stare at me." Yikes!!!!! I like the way you calculate how to deal with her, questioning of you're being too soft in these kind of situations; as if these situations come up everyday. That made me laugh. I think I would choose the tsunamis and end-of-the-world tornadoes over having that man/woman in the car with me. As with most of your dreams, this is a very complicated piece and I could write volumes on all the different aspects of captivating interest. But I guess this will have to do till the next one. Happy Dreaming!

9:29 PM  
Blogger rgmb said...

Thanks finnegan! I'll definitely check it out.

10:25 PM  
Blogger Maddy said...

hey!!!
i love the background...
grooooovy baby!!!

3:34 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

BOUDICA OF SUBURBIA
You can remember your dreams if you really want to. That's all it takes really. That's where the "training" begins. Start out by telling yourself "I will remember something from tonight's dream" just before nodding off. I'd be pretty surprised if you didn't. Just make sure to pick up that idea as soon as you awaken.


BOULIES
I could write volumes on all the different aspects of captivating interest
You have a good start!

The idea of an unwanted stranger unexpectedly popping up in the back seat has been used so often in films to scare us. I think that sort of fear is just natually implanted in most of us.

There's a quote from Satchel Paige applies here: "Don't look back. Something might be gaining". I've often wondered if the missing 180° of vision isn't responsible for our need to conjure dream adumbrations of what might exist in that blind zone. What we cannot see makes us prey to beasts which can pounce on us from behind. In other words, it's a very reflexive and primal response to fill-in that zone when our eyes close. Just a thought.


RGMB
You're welcome

MADDY
Oh behave!

7:19 AM  
Blogger rgmb said...

finnegan, i'm reading your link and i must say how synchronous that you should recommend it. i just wrote a quick piece last Thursday, a personal (private) essay, on Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principal and consciousness/God. wow----this is a great link, thanks!

5:27 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

RGMB
I had a feeling...

7:22 AM  
Blogger MAHARAJADHIRAJ said...

Hey u'r Joseph of the technicolour dreams! Amazing! Especially loved the part bout the biker chick turning into Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan.

Thanks for linking me!

8:27 AM  
Blogger rhein said...

i've always wanted a mustang convertible.

4:24 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

MAHARAJADHIRAJ
That's an amazing name you've got. I'd seen a special about Nusrat Fateh Ali Khan a few weeks ago. I'm sure that's where he entered.


RHEIN
Really? So what's holding you back Rhein?

10:04 PM  
Blogger transience said...

i think i coasted through this dream with one hand signaling and the other...well, let's say finding the right place. the thing with biker chicks is you don't know which ends is up. i swear, finn. if i dreamt about you, it would be crazier than crazy. and that's a compliment.

5:24 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

TRANSIENCE
biker chicks is you don't know which ends is up
Yes, some of them can be quite butt-ugly, I agree.

if i dreamt about you, it would be crazier than crazy. and that's a compliment.
If you dreamt about me your blogs would be short-circuited---you'd have to start all over.
In any case, I certainly accept your compliment.

7:29 AM  
Blogger floots said...

re postings deletions and life in general not amounting to a hill of beans:
(i did reply on site but going to put up a new one later)

i never mean to cut you off
the thought sets my heart thumping
but when i post i have to post
as bukowski said - it's dumping


cheers

2:40 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

FLOOTS
Thanks Rick. By the way, you're café is really looking swell! Here's dumping on you, kid.

6:30 AM  
Blogger floots said...

:)

7:41 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

FLOOTS

My Personal Verification Word: Re Rick's Dump AssTymeGozBye

7:52 PM  
Blogger GEL said...

I was here the other night but Blogger ate my comment for midnight snack. adore the new background template of marine blue eyes

Love the "you've got lice" followed by "you've got mail" which reminds me of "Sleepless in Seattle." I will read this more thoroughly after a good night's sleep and dreams. Looking forward to this.

11:06 AM  
Blogger finnegan said...

**SILVERMOON**
You're the second person to comment on the background. I wonder if most people even notice, since the surfing experience tends to be a bit hasty.

6:24 AM  
Blogger GEL said...

Dreamy Finn,
I'm an artist so maybe that's why I noticed. I noticed the first time I landed in here when it was changed, but Blogger was constipated. Or maybe others just forget to comment on the background because your richly detailed dreams are such captivating mini escapades! (I doubt that people can surf here "hastily" if they stop to read!

Then there's also the posssiblity that some didn't notice since your previous background was also blue but a different hue...

So,I returned fully awake to read and re-read your latest gloriously rich wild ride. Now I want to don my leathers and take a ride with a friend I know on his bike....but w/out popping any peppermint pink Bazooka.

I'm breathless. Have you thought about writing for film or TV...or have you already? Your writing is an incredible treat.I seem to recall that you used to live in L.A.

7:41 AM  
Blogger GEL said...

Oh I forgot to mention, I'm soooooo ready to jump into a Mustang convertible that I just popped the tires of our van... :D

7:42 AM  
Blogger floots said...

thanks for looking in on harry the cat
(you caught her just before "deletion" :) )
hope she brought back some happy memories
cheers

8:28 PM  
Blogger Sue hardy-Dawson said...

Ohh a bit scary this one, I think you should write a horror story, you're good at it

7:45 PM  
Blogger finnegan said...

SILVERMOON

Blogger does get plugged up and run into other plumbing problems.

Several people had mentioned that the previous background was hard-on-the-eyes psychedelic. Since I work with a Mac, I know that screen brightness is different from Windows users. Anyway, I changed the design to a softer, less optical one.

I've never written anything but my own stuff. TV and film writers are a dime a dozen, especially in places like New York or L.A. No, I simply enjoy writing. Were all my dreams as wild as this, I'd need a lot of free time to get them down. I'm glad you liked the ride.

So excited about the Mustang ride you popped the tires of your van? I'll meditate on that one. ;-)


FLOOTS
That she did. Too bad I don't have such a great shot of my old Sapphire. You'd surely agree that they are spitting (hissing) images of each other.


SUE HARDY-DAWSON
Ah, if I weren't interested in so many other things, I'd sit down and write a bigger block of text. Maybe something will bite me---make me more serious about it. Thanks

9:06 AM  
Blogger GEL said...

RE: popped my vans' tires:Met-uh-(you)-for-I-call-ye speaking. ;)
(My younger daughter implored me two summers ago to buy a Mustang, complete with a thorough campaign, carefully constructed by her like it was a research project assigned from school. No car was purchased. We were simply dreaming while awake. I do agree with her that the Mustang model she liked was cool but even she preferred much older models. She's into classic cars, for which we have none until another 25 years show on our current clunkers! Oh, and watch out even across the sea... she's been learning to drive.

5:32 AM  
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