Amusing dream fragment...

[seawasp]

These days I rarely have dreams that I remember coherent parts of, but it still happens every so often. Last night I was having a dream which was a fantasy quest type adventure, and one of the characters present was Aragorn (played of course by Vigo Mortensen [spelling??]). He had to reforge his own sword in this particular adventure. However, he didn't have the pieces of the original sword.

So he was forging the sword, bit by bit as we travelled along, from Elrond's silverware, which he'd apparently swiped from the Elf-King's table before we left. I have a particularly vivid image remaining of Aragorn hammering away, the sword having a lovely hilt and perfect two-edged blade... for about a foot and a half, when it suddenly ends in a long wide serving-fork.

Comments

[shana.livejournal.com]

Splork!

No, no...

[seawasp]

... not a spork. It was more like a ... Swork? A Ford?

Re: No, no...

[shana.livejournal.com]

Fnord.

[sub-musashi.livejournal.com]

It's the ultimate shiv.

[brownkitty.livejournal.com]

You dreamed about a Newcomer shiv?

[sorek.livejournal.com]

Hee!

[brashley46.livejournal.com]

Viggo. [/pedant] And if I could dream in Technicolor like that, I'd be so frightened ...

[groblek.livejournal.com]

Heh, that's great! my wife's comment: "My dreams aren't that cool. I want a refund."

The craziest dreams are the most entertaining

[lexomatic.livejournal.com]

Oh, that happens to me all the time. I've got whole notebooks full of dream-notes from the past 15 years -- like anything else, dream-recall improves with practice -- and my evolved notation for dream-phenomena; but I eventually stopped because 5-15 minutes of rapid scribbling each morning didn't fit my prep-schedule; not enough slack in the critical path. Now I record just enough keywords to trigger later recall.

For instance, last night a bunch of TransFans were discussing how the transforming version of the Jedi Starfighter made it difficult for the occupants to climb out, and indeed, Luke, young Obi-Wan, and Threepio were crammed inside. To reach a repair station, they had to evade the wormhole-trap emplaced by enemies, which Obi-Wan did by visualizing empty space as a sea, so that the wormhole was an obvious whirlpool -- which he can do, because he's a Jedi, although this part was clearly inspired by Vinge's _Rainbows End_ which I'm currently reading.

The station -- spangled with spherical garage-modules that could be jettisoned so the spherical shield could collapse to a more maintainable size -- was run by Calamari, although hyperdrive repairs were performed by a specialized and introverted race. To speak with them, you poured milk over their heads. (Thus joining a long line of food-themed "Star Wars" dreams, starting with the Star Destroyer with a salad bar running its full length.) Threepio was able to communicate, and he pedagogically explained that their language really isn't as strange as some spoken by humans.

And then Invader Zim showed up.