Land of Morpheus

     Land of Morpheus

Last night I saw something unlike anything that I had ever seen before while sojourning in the Land of Morpheus. Some of the details are lost to me now but fortunately the significant ones did not return to from whence they came, that is, they did not disappear into the sub-conscious so quickly as they often do.

 

In this singularly strange dream, it seemed that I was a non-participant, whereas normally during these interludes of repose, I am actively doing something, or rather my subconscious allows me to imagine that I am. In any case, the setting appeared to be somewhere in Central America or southern Mexico. The dream began with a group of about ten people with jaguar features standing at the foot of a pyramid such as those in the jungles of Meso-America.

 

There seemed to be a sense of urgency in the demeanor of the jaguar men as they proceeded to climb the pyramid. After they reached the middle section of the structure, they went inside and into a large room that was illumined by some mysterious light source that radiated from the center. At this point, I wondered if Marlon Brando as Dr. Moreau would make an appearance but that was not the case.  At the center of the huge windowless room, was another individual who was about twice the size of the jaguar men and who somewhat resembled a mythical griffin, but with humanoid features as well.The creature was adorned with the feathers of tropical birds and was wearing an armor breast plate wrought from gold and bronze and decorated with strange pictographs that were etched into the breast plate. The jaguar men approached the towering creature and formed a semi-circle about twenty to thirty feet away from him. The griffin-like individual said a few words in some strange language, probably to the effect of, "What is it?" The jaguar men, each in turn, stepped forward and presented something. One threw a cow carcass on to the floor. The next individual stepped forward and tossed a piece of heavy machinery, possibly from a loader, on top of the carcass. Another jaguar man stepped forward and dropped a handful of some bullets onto the pile. Some coins followed that, all being thrown into the pile, except for the last thing. The more important looking person of the jaguar men walked toward the huge feathered creature and gently placed on the floor near the redoubtable being a plant of some sort. The jaguar man stepped back from where he had approached and waited. The huge feathered creature raised his hands with his palms facing inward. Talons that glowed like molten steel extended from his fingers and for a brief moment he held his terrifying hands aloft with their dagger like claws. Then he clenched his hands and brought them to his sides. At this, the griffin-like being's strange gesture, the jaguar men turned and walked out of the pyramid.

 

For the most part, that was  it. The strange dream compelled me enough to want to find out if there was some significant underlying meaning. I did a bit of research and found out a thing or two that helped to clarify the symbolism. The overall message seems to point to an imbalance, and although the dream ended without any indication as to what follows, it would appear that there is something that needs to be done urgently to correct the imbalance, though it is unclear as to what should be done. What is clear, however, is that something important must be brought back into balance one way or another.

 

Are You a Sugar Junkie?

                   

I don't know about you (unless you're famous), but I'm of the opinion that most people eat way too much sugar. However, I'm not going to try and dissuade a sugar junkie from harming his health or even slowly killing herself by consuming excessive amounts of sugar. It's a free world, and truth be told, I don't really care enough to convince a sugar addict that drinking sugary sodas and eating candy bars everyday is a surefire way to rot his or her teeth, get fat, and increase the risk of coronary disease and type II diabetes. But I will try to inform those who, for some reason or other, may not be aware of the dire consequences of eating jelly filled donuts and other sugary foods and drinking carbonated liquid sugar on a regular basis.

In a previous web log entry, I talked about the adverse affects to one's health from consuming foods containing such food additives as trans-fat (used mostly in fast foods), and from the use of tobacco products, especially where it concerns artificially increased levels of nicotine. Now it's time to say a few things about sugar. To be fair, sugar is not a bad thing if the food item or beverage that contains refined sugar does not exceed an amount that would be considered reasonable by health experts (assuming that the sugar industry does not strong arm or bribe the experts into saying that ten teaspoons of sugar in a can of soda pop is not really unreasonable). But therein lies the problem, because when it comes to lobbying, the sugar industry is quite a big player and a huge influence on "the Hill". It has contributed millions in donations in the federal elections for decades, and in turn, the sugar industry has been subsidized by the U.S. government for about just as long. For those who would like to see less sugar in food products and beverages, they would have to take on a formidable foe. But where these concerned citizens might stand a chance against the sugar industry lobbyists, is if the facts are brought out about the health risks and adverse effects of excess sugar consumption and presented by a panel of experts, possibly in the form of a class action law suit.

No reasonable person can say that a little sugar in one's coffee or tea is a bad thing. In fact, a small amount of sugar is good for the brain. But when the per capita consumption of sugar has increased twice as much in the U.S. since the last century, and kids are consuming more sugary sodas than ever before, while dentists reap the financial benefits by fixing more and more rotted teeth because people have become addicted to too many sugary foods and drinks, then it's safe to say we have a national health crisis on our hands. Of course, one only has to look around on a crowded street or in a shopping mall and see the numerous fat people going hither and thither to note the empirical evidence (of a health crisis).

 

"But what about artificial sweeteners?" You might ask. To which I say,"Fuggedaboudit!"

A Cosmic Vaudeville Performance

         



 
So there I was in my bedroll as the sounds of mice foraging for food and the crackling embers of the campfire began to lull me toward the land of nod when a sudden sharp bang on the metal roof of the mountain shelter jolted me fully to my senses. "What the blazes was that!?" was exactly what I said, but Hank was busy sawing logs, so he was oblivious. It must have been a tree limb that had fallen on to the shelter, was what I thought. But then I heard it again! ...and again! The frequency of the banging noise increased with a furious intensity that was deafening. That's got to be hail, I thought. I sat up in my bunk and peered out just beyond the polyethylene sheeting that was flapping wildly like a ship's ensign. I could see large raindrops splashing on the ground.

 

Under normal circumstances the noise would have no doubt been unbearable but we were dog tired from our 10 mile trek up the mountain carrying 50 pound rucksacks earlier in the day and could have practically slept through a hurricane. Eventually, I was able to fall asleep, but then I was awakened once more by a grumbling noise. I looked toward the bunk where Hank was sleeping. He was moving around restlessly. The dim reflections from the embers of the fire revealed a hole in the roof just above him through which the rain was steadily dripping. He managed to move over to one side and the rain water dripped noisily through the wire mesh bedroll support to the earthen floor where it began to form a spreading puddle.

 

I was beginning to think that I would not be able to get any sleep at all, at that point. This belief was further reinforced by yet another disturbance that was coming from beyond the shelter. However faint, I was certain that what I was hearing were people's voices. This time, somewhat quietly but forcefully, I whispered over to Hank,"Hey, wake up!" It was no use. He was too intoxicated with sleep, that even a bugle blowing reveille would probably not have awakened him, though the water dripping on him most certainly had. "For God's sake, what is it this time?," I muttered to myself. " Are they backpackers trudging toward the shelter? The questions only seemed to accentuate the apprehension that had come over me. I reached for my revolver and removed it from the holster, made sure it was fully loaded, and then laid it across my chest. In the other hand I held my hatchet.

 

The rain began to subside and had let up enough to allow me to hear more clearly what the possible intruders were saying. I listened closely and noticed that not only were the words like some strange foreign language, but what I actually heard was singing. In my estimation, backpackers trekking up the trail in the middle of the night while belting out a tune just after a downpour would rate fairly high up on the list of very strange and unusual occurrences. But apart from that, there was something else, something intangibly and palpably different, as if nature had transcended to another realm or dimension. I felt the tension falling away, however, as I lay in the bunk listening to the fascinating song blend harmoniously with the sound of tree frogs and crickets. It was a symphony of sound, both natural and otherworldly.

 

A minute or two had passed and I realized that the troubadours were not any closer. An inclination for discovery, or something else maybe, compelled me to investigate the cause of the curiosity. When I got up out of the bunk, almost immediately I noticed that the ground did not feel so firm under my feet. Moreover, my other senses had somehow also been altered to such a degree that I could now see even the slightest details around me in the darkness that would not have been so apparent, otherwise, without the means of some sort of reflective light source, for example. As disconcerting as these sensory changes were, the mystery continued to draw me onward, still. Although it had been somewhat cold, it was now only slightly cool. The rain had stopped and the clouds had dispersed enough to reveal glittering stars that resembled diamonds scattered across the firmament. The hemlocks, rhododendrons, ferns, and poplars shimmered from the silvery light of the starry sky. In a small clearing by a stream, a stone's throw from the shelter, was a most incredible sight and was, in fact, the cause of the mysterious chorus. Stealthily as a ninja, I proceeded through the woods until I was close enough to discern several strangely dressed figures. Their brilliantly colored clothing reminded me of jewels and fish scales sparkling in the starlight. The spectacle was like a cosmic vaudeville performance. I felt the urge to shout out exclamations of approval, but controlled the urge and continued to quietly watch the curious performers, instead.

 

Just then, a voice bellowed down into the woods to the clearing. The mysterious troubadours stopped and glanced toward the shelter. I turned to look up the hill, as well. A gust of cold wind brushed my face and quickly I turned back to look at the musical performers, but they were no longer there. I stepped out into the clearing and walked around the grassy stage hoping to find some evidence, as proof for my own sake at least, that what I had been witness to had actually taken place, but there was nothing to be found.

Again, Hank's voice bellowed.

 

"Yeah, I hear you! I'm over here!" How strange that I was surprised by my own voice and then suddenly, it seemed, I was lying on the bunk and in my sleeping bag.

 

Hank's voice called out again, but much louder this time, "I'm brewing coffee. Rise and shine!"

 

What an unusually strange dream that was, I thought. I eased myself off of the bunk and walked out of the shelter. For a moment, I reflected on the wonders of nature and the goodness of its gifts. It was a glorious day. the sun was streaming through the towering trees and warming the earth. "I'm just going down to the stream to wash up. I will be back in a few minutes."

 

"Well, be careful," warned Hank. "I saw a huge razorback rooting around down there about an hour or so ago."

 

I looked at him warily. "You're joking, right?"

 

"You'd better take your six-shooter, just in case," was his reply.