The Glimpse That Lingers On
You can't forget. It flashes back. The dream stops when reality takes over.
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dream, Wed 25/3/09
I was driving down Plenty Rd in Bundoora. I can remember the exact stretch of road - the bit before Grimshaw St and after La Trobe Uni. It was snowing. I think KR was in the front passenger seat. Something had given me the impression that there was an earthquake and I asked her if she felt it. As we drove to my house, we kept an eye out for cracks in the ground, even though the quake was similar to the most previous two experienced in Melbourne (in real life).
All of a sudden, I was given a bird's eye view of Melbourne, and we were on a massive snow-covered plateau. It was terrifying and beautiful at the same time.
Suddenly, the dream cut to myself being in a ballroom. A grand party had been thrown for my birthday. I remember sumptuous desserts on the table - served before the main meal, for some reason. A friend and I were going to share mains, and she lined up.
Cut to another story, where my old uni friend RA had a torch that was vibrating. I pulled it out of her bag for her, and things started to come out of the end where you usually put batteries. The things that ejected themselves planted themselves into the ground and became flat discs, before growing to become red figurines of various things - chess pieces (I remember a rook), a toy horse, a toy dinosaur (the horse and dinosaur were solid versions of Gumby's friends...). I was supposed to give these to this stepmother who was watching us because they were going to upset her.
Various sweet treats had been packed up into a green rubbish bin for retrieval later on. My longest high school crush appeared and kissed me, despite his having a girlfriend. I remember being horrified when he told me.
Then for some strange reason, I had to pretend to be a man, dressed as a woman. (so, I'm female, but had to pose as a man trying to look like a woman?!). This was to go to some cabaret club in an alternate version of South Yarra. Someone was after us 'posers'. They chased my friends but I managed to escape on this amazing flying lift-type thing.
A boy who was apparently my brother was supposed to give my supposed stepmother a card that would upset her. I escaped with silver paint on my face which I managed to fashion into a veil and scarf to obscure my face.
For the final part of my escape I had to wear a retro ice-cream girl uniform and show the boys I could eat whipped cream from a can just as fast as them.
In Disguise
Some days you look in the mirror and instantly know it'd be a good day for espionage or bankrobbing or April Fool's.
Today is one of those days.
Dragon Dabic
Radovan Karadzic, until yesterday, had been a high profile international fugitive for 13 years.
He didn't go the Mengistu route, however, and trade advice for asylum with another worrisome dictator.
Instead, he grew a beard, and he set up shop right there in Belgrade: named himself Dragon Dabic, rented an apartment, and started practicing alternative medicine.
Maybe there's heaps more to the story that'll come out over the next few weeks. Maybe there'll tales of conspiracy and intrigue, adventure and revolution, but maybe not. Maybe Radovan Karadzic truly did turn the page. Maybe his ambitions became medical. Maybe his fascinations turned to healing. Maybe a big part of him had truly become Dragon Dabic.
Apparently, a humble and reforming Karadic interests me a whole lot more than a broken psychopath or a lurking villain. This story is new enough to leave heaps of imaginative space, and the Karadic I imagine is one settling into a new life, experiencing the world in new ways, and, maybe, hopefully, finding joy far more substantial than the adrenaline injections that military and political power gave him years ago.
Note: The Wikipedia community is on top of things. They've incorporated the beginnings of yeserday's arrest story on Karadic's page already. I guess that's to be expected. But that doesn't stop it from amazing me.
He didn't go the Mengistu route, however, and trade advice for asylum with another worrisome dictator.
Instead, he grew a beard, and he set up shop right there in Belgrade: named himself Dragon Dabic, rented an apartment, and started practicing alternative medicine.
Maybe there's heaps more to the story that'll come out over the next few weeks. Maybe there'll tales of conspiracy and intrigue, adventure and revolution, but maybe not. Maybe Radovan Karadzic truly did turn the page. Maybe his ambitions became medical. Maybe his fascinations turned to healing. Maybe a big part of him had truly become Dragon Dabic.
Apparently, a humble and reforming Karadic interests me a whole lot more than a broken psychopath or a lurking villain. This story is new enough to leave heaps of imaginative space, and the Karadic I imagine is one settling into a new life, experiencing the world in new ways, and, maybe, hopefully, finding joy far more substantial than the adrenaline injections that military and political power gave him years ago.
Note: The Wikipedia community is on top of things. They've incorporated the beginnings of yeserday's arrest story on Karadic's page already. I guess that's to be expected. But that doesn't stop it from amazing me.
