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Cricket Got In

Dreamed 1988/8/25 by Chris Wayan

An actor on the TV soap "Dynasty", a huge hulking man, is captured by the Carringtons or the Colbys, one of those rich families, and forced to have surgery. They cut off his vestigial tail, remove his dinosaur ribs, change muscles to fit, shift his posture to upright, and alter his head--to make him more human.

It drives him half-mad. He was a dinosaur; they've made a man of him. Talk about shrink-to-fit!

A rich reclusive woman led the way in this; and he's not the first guy she's changed to suit her tastes. She thinks of herself as a life-sculptor. I might have another word for it.

My friend Cricket and I are paying her a visit, but she doesn't know. From the balcony, we look down into the strange tubular room where this woman lives. It's actually the ammunition chamber of a huge rifle, 6-8 feet high, maybe 50 yards long! It just figures she'd live in a big-ass gun. Only in Texas!

But is this recluse the surgeon herself, or just a rich nut funding the real "life sculptor"?

The rifle is on a raised stage, flanked by a rectangular line of huge glass marbles, each four to six feet across, blue, green, orange, and white. I'd hate to meet the kids who play with them. Bratty little gods! But they may be just symbolic--portraits of all the worlds owned or dominated by her wealthy family. Not just a life-sculptor. A world-sculptor!

To the right, on the balcony, are boxes and stacked bags of cat food--at least that's what the labels say. But I know it's more than that--eating this kibble is reserved for just a few, for the Dynasty... for it confers immortality. It's the Cat Food of the Gods! A giant green cricket eats the Cat Food of the Gods.

A woman comes and questions us to see if we're ready for immortality. I don't qualify yet, I'm too young and immature for eternity, but my friend Cricket may just make the grade: she's older and wiser. She's in her cricket form today, about four feet long, green, exoskeleton, feelers... The divine examiner pours kitty crunchies into the cat bowl, and the great green cricket's mandibles grind away dutifully...

I'm bored waiting for Cricket to turn immortal and divine. As long as I'm waiting, I look up Cricket's biography in the gods' Database of All Wisdom. She can manifest as human; she had a small-time career as an actress. Nothing big--after she landed Jiminy Cricket in Pinocchio (yeah, another drag role, just like Peter Pan) they typecast her as a buddy or a guardian angel. Always a conscience, never a star. Specism!

I try to add a note online, saying she's been initiated into the Catfood Dynasty, but I can't--since I'm not in the elite myself, my account in the Database of All Wisdom is read-only.

Even in human form, Cricket is small, so she usually wears platform shoes--one on one foot, three on the other, stacked up, so that leg is half a meter longer. She says "they're great for walking sideways on hill slopes." But what about on the level? Doesn't Cricket ever do anything on the level?

I'm glad Cricket's finally getting the appreciation she deserves, but disappointed for myself that I didn't make it in, though I know very well I don't yet meet the Dynasty criteria. Patience!

And pump up that willpower!

But afterward, I start to wonder... Kibble bores me. Do I want immortality because I like the gods and their ways, or do I just I hate to be left out?

I mean... Dynasty?

LISTS AND LINKS: dream humor - gods and goddesses - guns - Frankensteinian surgery dreams - dinos - bugs - social class - food - Kibble From Heaven (yes, a second dream of divine kibble. And I don't even buy the stuff!)

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