Damn Dreams

Alright, call me crazy, but I'm starting to really consider the notion that Big Lanky S ain't the only inter-dimensional horror harassing this here highway hobo.

Because last night, I had the weirdest fucking dream in my entire life.

It's completely different from any other dream I've had, mainly because I can vividly recollect every event and every detail even now, two hours after I've woken up. In it, I stand before an obelisk. Its white, broad surface expands straight to the horizon. I can't turn on my heels, or rotate any part of my body around to see what's behind me. My feet are rooted to the soil, which is ashy and barren; life is nonexistent here, the only memento to natural forces being that giant stone wall rising up, casting the longest shadow across the world. I know this, intrinsically; it is vital to making the dream work. And I don't know why it is.

But the obelisk calls, it croons, it sings a song so beautiful, so fantastic, a siren chained to the rocks; and I am Odysseus, for I can hear their call but cannot move forward. I strain, I struggle, I futilely grasp at air, reaching and reaching and reaching towards the majestic, radiant ivory structure, so eager to embrace whatever delights it will inevitably bring to me.

Then, the moment before I can feel my fingers scrape the tip of the edifice, I wake up.

And I don't know what to do. Inevitably this...nightmare isn't good for my health; I recognize those signs already. But I don't feel it's related to the Big S man chasing me, either. Most other dreams about him actually involve our friendly neighborhood gawky stalker in the dream, or some sort of symbolism evoking an image of him - you know, the Operator majigger, lots of forests, darkness or fog, maybe a visit by one of his butt buddy minions. But this didn't have any of those characteristics - indeed, it seemed the complete antithesis of what the Black King is. Plainly obvious to cunningly hidden; naturally enticing to inhumanly disturbing.

Clearly, something's taken interest in me. But why?

Teetering dangerously close to the abyss,

Snore-de-Bliss

MICROPHONE CHECK MICRO-MICROPHONE CHECKA

What's in a name? A lot can be conveyed through the title of a fellow who you've decided to size up. Frank? He's straightforward, a reasonably dude, won't take bull shit from any person, friend or foe. Bob? Adrift - sorta lost in the sea, but always afloat and makin' the best of his situation. Noah? Grasp his every word if you want a shot for a spot on that ark...unless you're Bob, who's probably got a contingency plan in the works already!

Who is this punk, you might ask? This Stupendous Menace? Well, that's a little bit redundant to ask; his name says it all!

Crazy, without a doubt; who can be ph-ph-phAN-tastic by stickin' to normal ways of thinking? Aplomb, sums it up alright - molding any conundrum with deft hands, flowing through the motions, ruggedly massaging at the difficult dilemma until it's just the right shape, the right size, the right consistency to pass as a flawless success! Three times repeated, too, which ain't nothin' to sneeze at! But, although perfectly acceptable and completely correct to mention in discussion about the legend's demeanor, what REALLY makes this man astonishing? What aspect causes Carlos Slim to ask him for a personal high-top trim for nearly half of his fortune, and some hoes on the side? How godly must he be to go ghost-ridin' with Cthulhu, literally, across half the Pacific Ocean?

It's dexterity. The gift granted graciously to the MC, they call it gab; it flows from the tongue in abundance, seeping into the saliva, grafting on the gums, blasting back cavities bringing only lockjaw as gifts. They're really assholish guests, and not a single one is welcome in the home of the lyrically inclined. That's what defines him. And he, the Snore de Bliss, defines me, in all aspects. Lose the gab, lose the light, lose the life inspiring the might. Might as well be snatching my soul from my body, makin' me a slender, vacant shell of who I once was.

Looks like we're on and rollin' - expect a review later in the week.