random roulette


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Jon Stewart’s Crossfire appearance


Japan Vegas dream

Ok, so I had another of my really whacked out dreams that don’t make any freakin’ sense. K. and I were in a town I can only describe as Japan Vegas. A friend at work says it sounds to him like Tokyo’s light district, but I have no idea where that is, what it looks like, nor have I ever been
there. We were just in this… place, a brightly-lit gaudy spot with loads of tourist attractions and vaguely Asian people wandering around everywhere. It was like a state fair and anime convention all rolled into one. Especially considering the giant robots.

We wandered around this place for a while, checking out the sideshows, watching all the neon lights. We noticed that people kept coming and going, not staying at the festival for very long. We puzzled over this, but continued. Once we were done seeing the sights, we went to head back to our cars. Once there, we were horrified to discover the lot basically a war zone. Large, mechanical beasts (like At-At walkers from Star Wars) we stomping around, chasing after people trying to flee. Military police in vaguely Japanese/Nazi uniforms stood at the exits, swarmed rule-breakers, yanking them from their cars and removing their teeth with a horrible metal contraption.

We realized with growing horror that parking was strictly regulared in this alternate dimension. The penalty for parking wrong (in what way wring, I still don’t know) was the unkind harvest of your choppers. Apparently teeth were currency here.

Law-breaking citizens were pulled from their cars, had their teeth extracted, then got back in feebly. The officers slapped a wad of some sort of putty on the windshield and mounted the bloody extractions — some gruesome with the roots still attached — to the lower corner. As the cars slid through the exits, more officers removed the teeth and dropped them into large, black bags.

Frightened, we dashed to the car and attempted to escape. A game of bumper cars ensued as we crashed and banged against the cars around us in the attempt to flee. We were eventually cornered by one of the large robots, and pulled from the car, like all the others. We tried explaining that we were foreigners, and, surprisingly, this worked. They looked us over and pulled us aside, saying that they understood we didn’t know about their particular culture’s rules, and that there would be special consideration given our ignorance.

So they took us to this large, white building, to a large, white room. The room was solid, no windows, except for a 2-foot-square opening level wtth the floor. You could lay down on the floor and look out the window, but there really wasn’t anything to see. You could only see straight out, not down to the ground or up to the sun or clouds.

We were in the room a while before we got any information. Every once in a while, someone — a doctor, a nurse… we didn’t know as they were just people in non-descript lab coats with the same name tags, the same shiny medical tools. They took blood and weighed and measured us. We had pretty much decided, as these intrustions continued, that we should have just let them get on with the roadside extraction. Who knew what they could do to us in here?

We were occasionally taken away, both together and separately. There was a big shower room, but you were never allowed contact with anyone else aside from who you’d been brought in with. (We knew at this point, it was to avoid cross-contamination of their scientific experiments.) There was a cafeteria, with hard plastic bench and table. There were hallways, all white and hard to see the edges of. They twisted and turned madly. We were human lab rats in the labratories of this country in which we had arrived.

We got back to our room one day and there, in the middle of the floor, was a tiny marmalade kitten, adorable and fluffy. It was several minutes before it dawned on us. We were in some sort of government testing facility, and this kitten was probably meant to be some sort of psychological test. Just about this time, we looked over and saw that the kitten had begun to explore, and was nearly half-way out of the floor-level window. We dove to stop her, fearful. After this, we take turns to sleep, eat, even just to move around, as the kitten is preternaturally interested in the cool breeze blowing in from the outside, and keeps trying to find her way out the hole, which is angled slightly down and slick, and we’re certain if she got past a certain point, she would certainly fall to her death.

This is how the dream ends, not necessarily because it ended that way, but because I reached over to ‘save’ the orange tabby and instead wrapped my arms around my own cat, who was a bit startled by sudden gesture and woke me up with her vocal protest.

Thus ends Japan Vegas.

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