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Friday trio, morbid edition
Oct. 19th, 2018 10:43 amLast Wednesday: 85 and humid. This Wednesday: frost warning and wind advisory overnight.
The sudden cold makes for uncomfortable dreams.
This morning I dreamt that I was Luke Skywalker caught by baddies on a choppy sea. They locked me in a big black storage cube; I held on to the ceiling while they flushed out the contents into vacuum. Back on my feet afterwards, I beamed the Jedi mind-trick message "You don't see me, you don't see me," when they came to make sure they'd gotten rid of me, holding my breath and edging around the two inspectors, one of whom may have been Darth Vader. But then they sprayed some kind of chemical intended to reveal anyone hiding. The spray caught me in a few places as I tried to dodge it without making a sound of pain, going visible, or bumping into the inspectors. It took everything I had not to give myself away while the agonizing paralysis spread.
(Warning: gore.) Separate from a dream earlier in the night where I went back to the site of a gruesome incident that had killed me so I could collect the remaining chunks of flesh and bone for criminal evidence.
*
That's twice now that The Good Place has resonated with my own struggles with atheistic mortality. Who would have expected it from a candy-colored mainstream sitcom?
A recent article said one of the show's philosophy consultants is Todd May, author of Death: The Art of Living, and that showrunner Mike Schur sought him out after reading that book many years back. This very volume has been sitting on my bookshelf for a while, alongside similars such as Ernest Becker's The Denial of Death. I've been both desperate and afraid to read it, in case it does or does not offer avenues for relief from this lifelong baseline anxiety about the end of consciousness and how not to exit this only life regretful. Maybe the pop culture connection will nudge it up the to-read list.
*
On a lighter note: It wasn't until this year that I started using the browser bookmark function on my phone. Each time I open it to check the forecast, I laugh that the only two bookmarks in there so far are the National Weather Service page for my zip code and somebody's list of Longmire episodes in which Mathias appears.
Still need to write some Longmire posts before![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
festivids signups start. Too much to do in not enough time.
The sudden cold makes for uncomfortable dreams.
This morning I dreamt that I was Luke Skywalker caught by baddies on a choppy sea. They locked me in a big black storage cube; I held on to the ceiling while they flushed out the contents into vacuum. Back on my feet afterwards, I beamed the Jedi mind-trick message "You don't see me, you don't see me," when they came to make sure they'd gotten rid of me, holding my breath and edging around the two inspectors, one of whom may have been Darth Vader. But then they sprayed some kind of chemical intended to reveal anyone hiding. The spray caught me in a few places as I tried to dodge it without making a sound of pain, going visible, or bumping into the inspectors. It took everything I had not to give myself away while the agonizing paralysis spread.
(Warning: gore.) Separate from a dream earlier in the night where I went back to the site of a gruesome incident that had killed me so I could collect the remaining chunks of flesh and bone for criminal evidence.
*
That's twice now that The Good Place has resonated with my own struggles with atheistic mortality. Who would have expected it from a candy-colored mainstream sitcom?
A recent article said one of the show's philosophy consultants is Todd May, author of Death: The Art of Living, and that showrunner Mike Schur sought him out after reading that book many years back. This very volume has been sitting on my bookshelf for a while, alongside similars such as Ernest Becker's The Denial of Death. I've been both desperate and afraid to read it, in case it does or does not offer avenues for relief from this lifelong baseline anxiety about the end of consciousness and how not to exit this only life regretful. Maybe the pop culture connection will nudge it up the to-read list.
*
On a lighter note: It wasn't until this year that I started using the browser bookmark function on my phone. Each time I open it to check the forecast, I laugh that the only two bookmarks in there so far are the National Weather Service page for my zip code and somebody's list of Longmire episodes in which Mathias appears.
Still need to write some Longmire posts before
festivids signups start. Too much to do in not enough time.
