Further uncanny glimpses

Lovecraft found very few things to be canny.

My previous dreams provided amusement; here's another.

E, a former rugby teammate, was dressed as Sherlock Holmes and acting like him, too. She had gone back in time to try to seduce Queen Victoria. Using deductive logic. She sat on an ornate stuffed chair while Queen Victoria sat across from her on an ornate stuffed couch, in an ornate room stuffed with ornate ornamentation.

Of course, stalwart Queen Victoria, dressed in mourning, would have none of it. The dream-seduction-by-logic was unsuccessful in the face of her stubborn refusal to be swayed by deductive logic. Although my dream version of Queen Victoria was not above a detailed logical examination of the frilly black lace on her black dress, an opening sally in the seduction.

Uncanny.


This post's theme word is captious, "having an inclination to find faults, especially of a trivial nature." Her captious questions stalled the deductive argument.

A glimpse into my subconscious

The imaginative boundaries of my dreams surely inform the limits of my subconscious. Or perhaps my imagination.

I recently had a dream that I was frantically running to get to a final exam on time. This was understandably stressful. Dream obstacles -- crowds obstructing my path, me forgetting about the exam until it was about to begin, not studying in preparation -- delayed me. This dream was clearly an expression of a long-fostered Student Examination Anxiety.

Unlike many such dreams, I did eventually make it to the exam! And then in the dream I sat down at my seat, with my tiny fold-out desk, and started to take the exam. My subconscious, author of the dream, permitted me to read just a few words on the exam before falling asleep in my dream. (How tired do you have to be to sleep in a dream?!) Then I woke up in my dream, in the exam, to the announcement that there were only five minutes remaining. Dream panic! I had not even written my name on the test booklet yet!

Determined to answer something in the remaining time, I resolved to read just... one... paragraph... of the exam. But lo! -- and behold! -- once more, my subconscious refused to author the exam, and I found my dream-self staring out the window and daydreaming.

That's right. Not only did I sleep in this dream, I daydreamed in this dream.

I awoke just as they were collecting my completely empty exam booklet, at Maximum Student Panic Stress Level 1: Total Frenzy (Red Alert).

Dream lesson the first: there are some things so boring that even my subconscious refuses to supply them.

In another dream, I was setting up a skateboard ramp with some alligator-people. Aliens, of course. The entire situation was so absurd that I realized I must be dreaming. Still asleep, I tried to do typical lucid dream actions. My stubborn subconscious refused to let me fly, or teleport, or breathe underwater. I awoke resentful of my own brain.

Dream lesson the second: there are some things so awesome that my subconscious refuses to supply them.


This post's theme word is nutate, "to nod the head," or "to oscillate while rotating (as an astronomical body)," or "to move in a curving or circular fashion (as a plant stem, leaf, etc.)." I nutated my sheets while dreaming about the skateboard contest.