Okay, I love Surprise by Design, (along with Ellen’s talk show, it was a major part of my ‘Surviving Chemo’ afternoon) but enough with the Robert Verdi dreams.
This one began simple enough…
I was assisting judges is some surreal bulletin board competition.
The theme was “Activities I’ve Loved in My Life” or some such oddity. Robert was competing.
All the standards one would expect from a ‘mo were there: Cheerleading, Drill Squad, and loads of well placed ribbons for various gay activities.
The odd thing, all the crepe paper streamers on his board were far too short to be impressive, which – we all know – is so NOT Robert Verdi!
Then I saw it, a letter of thank you. Robert said it was from a huge fundraiser he planned and decorated every year in Hollywood. The organization on the letterhead was my college fraternity. (Yeah, now its out. I’m a frat boy.)
This is where Robert disappears from the dream.
Cut to the war of the apocalypse, that is to say – the encroaching battle between puritanical forces and us queers.
It really odd thing? The dream cut to my fraternity’s old chapter house, but of course, the chapter was fill with muscle-bound, hairy half-nekkid leathermen. (Ah, the power of the subconscious.)
(A little background here. The city of Athens, Ohio has endless stories and legends of its mystical circumstances. The campus library archives section even has something called the “spook file” containing a copy of any known article about Athens concerning ghosts or other occult activities. I read the contents of the file once. The important story here concerns the mystic nature of Athens geographic location. It was said to be one of the twelve [maybe ten] most magical places of the world.I mean really, Stonehenge, Easter Island, Ohio University? But the article mentioned a physical ‘lifting up’ of the area around Athens. This occurrence was beginning to take place in my dream. Athens also has a strong pagan/Wiccan/witch sub-sect, which is well populated with queers. My dream involved the starting battle as the Bible-thumping Jesus-freaks and the woofish half-nekkid leatherfolk both claimed the upraising as a sign in favor of their faction. Whew!)
So… the ground is up heaving and the change to the foothills of Athens, leaving the chapter house smack in the middle of strange new formations leading out to a rock-bridge. A sentry of ours lights the signal torch. I come running, as do most others, very hot sweaty and fine in their skins, I might add, all primitive with war paint and grease smears. Woof. So the thumpers made their socio-political statement by planting along this rock bridge little cherub statues and mannequin body parts both apray painted gold. Littered throughout the gilded body shop were rotting carcasses of bird of every shape and size. Clearly to me, this was a statment along the thought that angels and carnage would be heaped upon us for our sins. Blahbity blah blah. I’m seeing this thinking, “These thumpers…this looks oddly like a fabulous event plan…”
A commotion ensues as yells issue from the chapter house, most of us return to find flood waters rushing in to the our headquarters. (Again, Athens has a strong history of flooding, especially since engineers
diverted the Hocking river in order to develop a quad of dormitory housing.) Rippling muscles strain to re-enforce sandbag blockades. The rest of us head to the basement to stop the rising waters from reaching
the power main. Bailing and cursing and sandbags and boards, the crisis is eventually contained. At this point, I hear a swelling of shouts nearing me, still in the basement. It seems my brethren have captured
a perpetrator of the weird-ass, oddly-queer, anti-fag statement up on the bridge.
By the time I reach the main room in the basement, the prisoner had been striped and bound to a bondage structure (Duh, leathermen – remember! Or course we have bondage devices in the basement…) Oddly, it was a guy that had been a member of my fraternity.
As the torture preparations began, I headed back up and outside to the bridge, to deal with the “statement”. I stand there surveying as others are already gathering and burning the bird carcasses, a tribesman approaches me and ask about the statuary. I thought quietly for a moment then gave the man my orders.
I remained standing – all heroic and shit – on a protruding crag of rock watching as my orders are followed. It was really something to watch.
I mean – think about it – all the little gold puttis, dressed in harnesses with big, red targets painted about their nipple…
Such a GRAND gateway that will make for our headquarters…
Oh, Freud, where are you?
gryphon's hole 