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February 1997

Feb 1 - Feb 2 - Feb 16 - Feb 18 - Feb 20 - Feb 21 - Feb 22 - Feb 25

February 1, 1997

The actor Jason Alexander (who plays George Castanza on the TV sitcom Seinfeld) was a doctor, not only that, but a doctor with a conscience. Although throughout this dream I kept expecting him to do something moronic, he was actually very competent and serious the entire time. He was to perform an amputation of someone's legs, and this concerned him. He was committed to do it, but he just didnít feel right about it. He kept feeling that there was something that suggested this person shouldnít have their legs amputated, but he was unable to put his finger on it. Instead of admitting that, he went on with the surgery as planned. I was there, standing to the left of George. On the other side of the table was another doctor who was an older man with gray/silvery hair. He was probably George's boss. There was also a nurse there that was to the left of me somewhere. George cut away at this person's legs. He cut the legs off two inches at a time and the resultant pieces looked like thick slabs of beef or pork with the white of fat rimming the meat and white bone inside. I never saw the feet. The legs were on the operating table and didnít really look like legs, but rather, like elongated pieces of beef, steaks, and chops. George was there, cutting precise two-inch pieces away and placing them aside. George performed the surgery but had this constant doubtful, concerned look on his face (none of us wore face masks). He finally started voicing his concern about this procedure. There was a large piece of something off to the right which may have come from the patient. It was part of a thigh or other anatomical chunk. There was bone, it's small-honeycombed girth cross-sectioned for us all to see, and it held inside it's pig-thigh-shaped structure other pieces of bone and meat. We started discussing the make-up of this thing. George said something about it, but I remember the nurse pointing to the thick cross-sectioned bone which defined the thing's shape. She pointed and ran her finger along the edge of the bone and said something like, "Look right here..." as if pointing out something that would help explain what it was we were talking about. George then pointed something else out to his boss. There was another piece of body part lying there that resembled the rib cage of a human being with some white meat attached to it. This piece of carnage seemed to only be the back part of the rib cage of a human being, not the front part or the top or the bottom. Anyway, George used this additional piece of extra body part to explain to his doctor boss why he was concerned why there may not be a need to amputate this personís legs. He reached inside the rib cage and folded back a flap of wet, white meat that was partially attached there and underneath it was a small pool of translucent, whitish liquid, which was some kind of precious bodily fluid. George held in his hand an adapter like the kind that fits into my Video Recorder when I want to hook it up to the AC adapter to record on VHS tapes. There was suddenly music playing - what kind of music I have no idea. George put the connecting end of the rod into the whitish fluid underneath meat that pooled in the curved ribcage and the music instantly stopped. This was significant. This was the point George was trying to make to his boss. Because the music stopped by inserting the end of this cord into the liquid, then that meant that everything was fine. It was a demonstration that should be repeatable when the adapter end was submerged into the whitish liquid that pooled in the ribcage of the person whose legs were being amputated. George then pulled back the white meat partially attached to the ribs of the person we were cutting the legs off of, and he submerged the adapter end into that liquid. When he did, the music continued playing which meant that there was definitely something wrong. The demo unit/rib cage was to show how things should actually be, and since the music continued to play using the rib cage of an actual subject instead of stopping when using the rib cage of the teaching demo unit, then we all knew something was wrong. If amputating this person's legs wasn't what needed to be done to this person, then what? George's boss saw this demonstration then was also concerned. I gave George a lot of credit for doing what he did because although he could have acted like the George on Seinfeld and tried to play it off like nothing was wrong, he instead brought the wrongness to the attention of his superior because that was the right thing to do. George's boss then looked around him, kind of nonchalantly, kind of in disbelief. Stunned and looking for an answer to this problem but knowing he wouldnít get one, he looked to his left, then he looked at the people behind him, then he looked to his right, then he looked back in front of him. It was somewhere around here that I realized that we were in an area that was like an office, not an operating room. Apparently operations took place in this office area. There were two desks behind the boss twenty-five feet away, and at each desk sat a person who were probably wearing suits. They were apparently doing their office jobs and when the boss looked around in shock he probably wondered if they noticed there was a problem with this operation that was going on in front of them. Beyond the desks was a large plate glass window and the world beyond, which was a parking lot like the kind in a small business complex. It was day time.

February 2, 1997

I was in the woods somewhere with Peter Peckster. The woods I was in I think were the ones I traveled through when I was a child at the property my parents owned at Case Inlet. I was at the part where there was a little rise in the ground at about the halfway point. I looked up at a slope fifty feet or so away and there was a brown dirt trail leading though the green foliage. About halfway up the trail there was a large log crossing the path, almost three feet round. The trail it crossed was muddy and wet, indicating the weather had been the typical Washington State stuff; wet, although it wasn't raining at the time. There was a vehicle of some sort with large, rounded tires, something like that ATV that had eight horsepower but we didnít get because dad wanted the one with twenty horsepower. This vehicle churned up the muddy slope and its front tires turned around and around as it tried to get over the log. The front right tire got up onto the log and the other tire(s) tried as well, but I can't remember if the vehicle made it over the log or not.

February 16, 1997

I was with some people somewhere, in a room like an auditorium. I remember Peter Peckster being there with me. I was sitting in a folding chair about ten rows from the front of the area where a stage would usually be, but I don't think there was any particular attraction in the front area for us to be looking at - the chairs were just seated that way. There was a large gathering of people there and I think we were all there to be converted into some kind of cult, like the Moonies or Jim Jones's group. Some guy, probably Peter Peckster, went somewhere and got a Dixie Cup full of something to drink and I guess if you wanted to be converted into this cult then you had to drink this cup full of stuff. I then acquired one of these Dixie Cups full of stuff and drank the liquid down. Immediately I began to feel drugged and sluggish, but that's what was supposed to happen. Ingesting this drug was the first part of being converted. I also remember a guy, a black guy I think, injecting me in my side between my rib bones with a huge shot with a needle a foot long. This shot was also part of the conversion process but I don't think the shot made me feel any different like the cup of stuff did. The black guy was five foot five inches tall, had very short afro hair and was wearing a short-sleeved shirt that had yellow and dark orange thin horizontal stripes on it. The next step to being converted was to go into a room beyond a door on the side of the auditorium and get another shot in the leg. I was among some others who walked slowly along and up about three steps to the door leading into the room. When I looked back at Peter, he was still out in the auditorium. He was standing and lifted his T-shirt up and laughed at me, trying to make me laugh by doing something weird like he always did. I did smile and laugh a little. Then I was in a room which was like a lounge. There were several men in there, none of whom I could recognize, although one of them may have been that hybrid being cloned over and over on that one X-Files episode where Sculley discovers she has cancer. I'm standing there in this lounge-like room. On the far end of it is something that looks like a wet bar. In front of that is a guy approaching me, the hybrid, and he has a strange-looking instrument in his hand. It is a metal object that is long and thin and there is a small hook on the end like the hook on the end of that black thing that broke off of one of William's toys not too long ago. The guy is walking towards me, apparently to stick me with this tool because it was part of the conversion process. I think there are some other guys approaching me as well. I do not give in easily, though. I tell them that I donít want to be stuck with this thing the guy's holding. He assures me that he is going to insert it into my leg, not my face or some other place that might hurt but I told him that I donít care where he puts it, I donít want it stuck in me. I can see that I'm not going to get out of this without a fight. Suddenly I'm standing out on a balcony that is just outside the lounge-like room. I am out there and am being backed against one end of the railing by these guys. We are on the second floor so it is about a twenty foot drop if I want to jump to escape. There are three guys approaching me on the balcony now. I notice that they all act real subdued, like they are programmed and unable to think for themselves. They are almost like zombies. Wanting to escape these guys and this weird cult, I splash these guys in the eyes with a chemical that is in a small metal cylinder I have been holding in my hand. The liquid in the cylinder was something like ether or tear gas. I remember arcing my right arm out in front of me quickly which threw the chemical into the faces of the guys in front of me. The liquid came out in a tight round stream and it hit all three men in the face, although the guy in the middle I think it only hit him in the mouth and lips. I remember seeing the liquid as it splashed onto these guys, how it remained in it's jagged, connected stream as it went from face to face. I did this in hopes of getting some free time so I can escape. I then jumped off the balcony and landed onto the lawn below and immediately begin running away to the left into some woods. The woods arenít thick because I am still on the lawn, I'm just running with trees surrounding me. When I run, a group of guys suddenly swarm around me and I realize they are members of the cult. They run right along me, catching up to me very quickly and I donít think I can escape. One of the guys who is running alongside/after me is Jethro. He has hair that is thin and straight and is shaped around his head at a level just below his ears. He kind of smirks at me wildly as he runs alongside me.
I am at the White House at a social event. For some reason I had a need to find Pat Nixon (Richard's wife). I guess I was on a special mission or something. I sat on a hill that sloped up slightly from the outing of people. There was someone with me but I can't remember who. It was a guy, one of my friends. I sat there on the hill and watched people as they wandered about the courtyard of what I guess was The White House. There were columns and pillars in an outside place and these distinguished guests would arrive, either in limos or by some other way, then mingle with those guests that were already there. They were all one hundred feet away. I had a pair of binoculars or some other type of instrument that allowed me to see close up. I watched as one elderly lady with fluffy white hair walked along. She was escorted by a man whom I can't remember. I saw her and may have mentioned to my friend that I found Pat Nixon. I think I saw a woman earlier but her hair didnít seem right so I didnít think it was Pat Nixon. Just beyond this courtyard with its large white Roman pillars and neatly trimmed grass was a cliff which dropped to the ocean below. Beyond the cliff, about a mile out to see, was an island about three or four miles across - it was pretty-good sized. Some kind of announcement was made about the person who lived on that island. It was an evil person who was planning to blow up the White House with bombs. Although everyone heard the message, no one at the social gathering seemed to be taking this very seriously. Some time later, the first of the bombs started to come over from the island. The bomb left the middle of the island, an area that had a large volcano or palm tree in its middle and surrounded by the growth of the jungle. The bomb was large and round, about twenty feet round. It resembled those plastic gray rocks that shoot from William's toy castle's cannon. The bomb skipped across the water, but actually it was more like it was bouncing. It popped out of the middle of the island then hit the water and bounced like a basketball on a solid floor, taking huge arcing bounds towards us. As the bomb got closer and closer to us, people started panicking and running around. Finally the bomb hit somewhere among the compound before me, dropping from the sky and exploding on impact. An explosion about thirty or forty feet round rocked the area, sending yellow swirls of flame into the air and sending debris flying in all directions. Several more bombs dropped and I felt fortunate they weren't doing more damage than they were, which bombs in real life certainly would have. One time I was down among the pillars and one of those round gray bombs dropped from the sky and landed just twenty feet away from me. I was sure I was going to die, or at least get hurt, but I didnít feel anything and I think I may have had the feeling somewhere along here that I was dreaming because how else could I have survived being that close to a bomb going off? The bomb toppled pillars and sent debris and flame my way but I ran off in the opposite direction and managed to escape damage. I may have hid behind something at the last second which shielded me from the blast and that's why I escaped without injury. The next thing I recall is being in the ocean just beyond the cliff. I guess I fell off the cliff but I donít really remember falling. I was in the turbulent sea, trying to tread water and stay alive. In front of me was the island and I think I may have had the urge to swim to it, but then off to my left, a large ocean liner came my way. It was pretty close to me and I realized I would have to dive deep under water to escape hitting the bottom of the ship or the propeller, or anything from the ship. Before I did this, I saw a bomb or two dropping into the water around the ship, splashing and making more of a mess. Then I remember climbing up the side of the cliff back up to the top. My friend was up there, looking down on me. It kind of reminded me of the rimrock cliffs I sometimes climb because I would pull at the rocks and some of them would break loose in large shale pieces and fall into the water below. I managed to hold on, however. One time I looked up, when I was ten feet from the top, and saw that so many rocks had been pulled off the side of the cliff that there was nothing but a smooth dirt wall above me. About three feet from the top, the rocks started again, probably because I hadn't been able to reach for those yet, and my friend was still there, looking down on me. As I climbed, I saw one or two more large round bombs drop into the water and I was worried one would hit me.
I was in a room with someone who reminded me of the actor Jan Michael Vincent. The room wasn't too small, about the size of my bedroom, and it was cluttered with many electronic devices on the counters and there was lots of paper strewn all about. There was a window on the wall behind Jan, and I had the feeling we were sitting in a room that overlooked a dock, the blue sky above and docked boats below. Jan sat in a chair and looked to my right. There was a TV there and he was going to show me a vacation place he wanted to take me to. Apparently he and I were buddies, or I had done something to impress him and he wanted to take me on a vacation to show his appreciation. He tried to tune in a vacation spot that I think was in Mexico, like Cabos San Lucas or someplace like that. When the picture of the vacation spot finally came onto the screen, however, we were disappointed. On the TV was a picture of an ancient Mexican ruin, part of a building that was from the Lost City of the Incas or something. The building resembled the Lincoln Monument because of its vertical pillars in front, but the style was obviously a lot older than that. The pillars were a golden color and I viewed them from off to the right hand side of it at an angle. The building was almost completely covered in sand. We were able to see the middle to the right hand side front of the building, but the rest of it was covered with sand. Michael seemed sad and commented on how some bombs that went off caused the sand to cover this building, and it meant that we probably wouldnít be able to go there because of the damage the bombs had done to this part of the world.

February 18, 1997

I did a lot of stuff in this dream but I can only remember a minuscule part of it because I waited too long to write this down and you know how that goes. Anyway, I was in a boat that was tied up to a dock. The boat was a twelve or fifteen foot Bayliner type with metal railings lining the bow and probably the sides. The rope was attached to part of the railing that was in the front of the boat. Something was whipping the boat around, either the rough water and its waves or someone was pushing the boat around from the dock or throwing something at the boat that made it move like it did. I sat on top of the bow as the boat whipped this way and that, yanking as it reached its end of rope length, then swinging around to the other side of the dock much like the motion of the ride called The Whip at the County Fair. I donít think I was worried about falling in the water, and was probably enjoying the whole thing. I know that previous parts in this dream dealt with people doing something on this dock, but I can't remember it.

February 20, 1997

I was doing something with some people, probably at the house where I grew up in at the top of South Hill. One of the people was the actress Juliette Lewis from the movie Natural Born Killers. Some stuff happened that I can't remember, but whatever happened meant that I had to drive downtown with Juliette. Juliette was much younger in this dream than she is in real life - she was about fourteen. I remember getting into the seats of the vehicle where we were going to drive, which could have been a car or airplane or any type of transportation. It was dark and cramped, like the back seat and window of an old Pontiac Chieftain. The next thing I recall is flying down South Hill. I say flying because that's what it felt like, although I guess I was supposed to be driving. Juliette and I looked down from fifty feet high in the air as we zoomed down South Hill. The street and entire landscape was very odd-colored, almost like a photographic negative hue but not quite. The colors were dark and off shade, kind of psychedelic. I remember looking down and saying to Juliette, "Wow doesn't that look cool?" I vaguely remember being downtown Puyallup at that intersection at the bottom of South Hill by the Fairground. Then I was standing outside a house somewhere in the middle of downtown Puyallup with some people, and Juliette may have been one of them. There was an older man there who reminded me of dad. There were three or four other people and they(we) may have all been part of a family. We were standing outside of a house that was your typical downtown Puyallup type house; two-story dwelling among other houses. We were all standing in or near the street and the man that reminded me of dad said something like, "It's an energy the likes I've never seen!" What he was referring to was a cold front emerging on the town, kind of like a tidal wave sweeping through. I had a view of it from high in the air, maybe a half mile up. The cold front or whatever it was covered the town in a darkness, like the shock wave from a nuclear explosion. I remember seeing the tops of houses and buildings as this dark cloud-like thing rolled over them and made them disappear. Apparently it was going to engulf the entire town and we were concerned. We had to find a way to get out of town or escape this cold front coming in or we would be killed. Suddenly a helicopter appeared overhead, about a quarter mile in the air. Someone, maybe Juliette, started waving at the helicopter and yelling for help. The man who reminded me of my dad said something about how waving at the helicopter was useless because it wouldnít be able to see us. Nevertheless, to everyone's surprise the helicopter did see us and started to descend to come rescue us.

February 21, 1997

I had a Les Paul guitar and someone stole it from me. I later learned that it was the rocker Jimmy Page from the band Led Zeppelin who had it. I remember looking down at the top of Jimmy's head as he said something. I could see his nose and most of his face as he spoke while I looked down at his curly-locked head from just feet away. I can't recall what he was saying, but it was some kind of words of wisdom. He would say a sentence which was a wise saying, then he would pause, then he would say another tidbit of wisdom. There was a rim of light around his mouth and as my view of him changed and I could see the front of his face, the light grew in and around his mouth. It was a white light and was the kind you see when a flashlight is shone from behind your hand and you can see the illumination through the skin, only this light was very white, almost like the white you see in a photographic negative. Later, I was watching as Jimmy jammed with my guitar. He was plugged in to a Marshall Stack. As he played, he jumped around and his face made all sorts of cringing expressions that rockers usually make when they jam. Although he was jamming, he wasn't playing many notes at all. Occasionally an odd feedback note would jump out from the stack, but he wasnít playing much more than a single note every few seconds. He may have even put the guitar up to his teeth to play like Hendrix, and when he did that there was still little to no noise.

February 22, 1997

I was playing basketball with some people. Sometime during our play, a square multicolored ball was introduced and we tried to play with that. This ball looked like a huge Rubik's Cube and bounced around awkwardly, like a football. I remember being by the basket once and putting the ball in the hoop. I had the feeling that I had introduced this ball to play with but I donít think anyone else liked it, and that made me feel a little uneasy.

February 25, 1997

I was sitting on the couch in the rec room with Lisa and we were watching TV. Suddenly our alarm went off, meaning that someone had broken into the house somewhere. It surprised me and I was going to go look for the intruder but then suddenly two guys came running from out of my bedroom, down the hallway there and into the rec room. They were naked, or if they had any clothes on, they didnít cover much. One of the guys looked like Seshwan Mobley only shorter, the construction guy who did work on my bathroom. The other guy was taller but I didnít recognize him. He had short hair. Apparently their purpose was just to streak across our house naked, like the streakers in the seventies did in public places sometimes. I got up and followed them as they ran through my house but it was clear they just wanted to run out the front door so I didnít get too worried. The taller one of them gave me a look as I approached them that suggested I better not get too close or there would be a fight. Eventually they ran outside into my front yard and I stood at the front door looking out at them.

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