Saturday, January 7, 2017

Dreaming about baby snakes and voles because of Star Trek. (dream)

Every now and then, I freak out about life in general due to multiple stressors that happen in time intervals that are too short for me to adapt to. Right now, I'm freaking out about an increase in my rent and the loss of a couple really important sources of income. I'm happy to say that I'm no longer freaking out about my cat's death because she has made a miraculous recovery. Nothing matters more to me than that recovery. But now that the core problem I've been facing has been solved, I look up and see that I have a handful of other problems to face.

It seems that no matter what, I keep on dreaming about Deep Space Nine. Even this dream about anorexic baby snakes that I need to take care of while living in my parents' house was about feeding snakes voles that overran the snake rack system. That was directly from an episode in season 2 in which Cardassian voles were eating the ship.

I've been listening to Joseph Campell's Hero of a Thousand Faces in which he compiles myths from dozens of cultures and shows us what they all have in common. I was listening to one about hell fire and brimstone. He juxtaposes troll-like fury, death and sin and the distress arising out of the phenomenon of our existence with a sense of nourishing enchantment about life and death. I happened to be in the grocery store looking at a tabloid when I was listening to this part of the audio book and I thought, "He has human nature down pat in this regard. We've never changed." It's incredible how repetitive and simple we as humans are despite any amount of knowledge that comes to us.

A yellow, banana Californian king snake is hungry. He's medium-sized. I look down and see that I must have already taken care of some of the voles that have overrun the system. The voles have been bagged. They've been frozen and are now thawing. That should've taken care of any parasites. The only worry now is whether or not the meat has rotted and the snake will throw it back up. I can't remember how long ago the voles were killed, frozen or thawed.

I dangle one for the snake. It opens its mouth and takes it. Its color is unusual. There are gray stripes where it's ordinarily black. It's hypomelanistic, but its eyes are black. It strikes the large vole and begins to eat it, head first. It doesn't spit it back out.

Two days in a row afterwards, I dreamed about Cardassians. I dreamed about anger and forgiveness: the expression of it; feeling guilt and passion and wanting to evade feelings of vulnerability.

Whatever I watch the day beforehand is what I dream about now. I can't remember ever dreaming so consistently about a television show. The one-on-one relationships are by far the best part of the show, or any Star Trek show for that matter. I can't say that's true of many other series. Harry Potter is amazing due to the crisp, simple language describing complex, imaginative worlds and the soaring, child-like wonder of exploring them. Star Wars is good because of its strict adherence to the monomyth, bringing us to a sense of our own hero's journey, and its clear cut right versus wrong mantra. But these one-on-one relationships in Star Trek are unique. I wonder why people attribute its success to its adherence to technical jargon. That just seems to be a natural outgrowth or a basic requirement.