'THE DREAMER AND THE DREAM'
as told by Bruce Henninger, percussionist
for AVALON USA
(SWAMPFIRE)
It started with a dream.
Actually, it all began way before the dream,
years before, in the
mind of a man the dreamer had never met.
You would probably know the
place he made, but I can't name names (copyright
laws can be such
messy affairs). Suffice it to say that
our dreamer dreamed himself
into his own version of this place, drawn
by the comical, friendly
innocence and simplicity of the inhabitants
of this land.
A nice place to visit, butAs the dreamer
quickly discovers, there
is an unwritten law against leaving this
land - which might not have
presented any problem, were it not for
the fact that unheard wears
the appearance of one of these mythical
folk, and none of them have
guessed that he is actually a stranger
among them.
Time for a modicum of subterfugethe dreamer
conspires with himself
to play the part thrust upon him, while
at the same time laying
plans for a quiet, unnoticed getaway, so
as not to disrupt the
harmony of this dreamland. But as they
say (who are they?), the best
laid plans may burn your bridges in a pig's
eye his scheming is
discovered, and the dreamer must fell toward
the edge of
consciousness, seeking to wake up before
all hell breaks loose.
Some of the town's most prominent citizen's
pursue this new fiend
that has shown itself to be in their midst;
perhaps they're not
quite sure of what they are doing -
-and then the dreamer wakes up. But the
dream, now tainted with
reality, continues
The dream creatures have chased him to
the end of a swampy lake: the
line between dream and
reality. Trapped, the half-awake dreamer
supplies his dream self
with a gun and the dream-folk
grind to a halt in disbelief, for they
recognize that this
particular weapon, forged by a partly wakeful
mind, is thoroughly capable of killing
them - a jarring realization
for the beings who would otherwise
immortal, to whom death is unknown, talked
about but never
experienced, for how can dreams die?
The dreamer, who was basically a pretty
all-around decent type of
fellow at he start of all this,
Implores them to understand that he doesn't
belong there, that he
doesn't want to hurt anyone
But must be allowed to leave. The dream-folk
can do nothing to stop
him at this point; the power
Of the impending reality is too strong.
A boat has appeared at the
shore, a simple wooden rowboat.
The dreamer steps into it and pushes off,
and still the dream
creatures are reluctant to let him leave,
for they know that when he finds wakefulness,
he will cease to
exist. Sure enough, as the boat moves
far offshore, an enormous face rises from
the water to confront the
dreamer: it is the face of the real
person that he is. Face and dreamer both
vanish. The dream-folk turn
and head back for home;
They can't say they didn't try
(BRIEF RETURN)
You'd think he would have learned after
all that, but some time
later, the dreamer returns to this
place, unable to keep himself away. He
wears the same shape as on
his last visit, and the dream-folk
recognize him for what he is. They still
remember his first stay
among them, and they are fearful of
what he might do further. Struck irrational
panic, these normally
peaceful, fun-loving creatures
decide this stranger must die. A rope is
strung from a tree atop a
small hillock, and the noose slipped
around the dreamer's neck not exactly the
perfect way to end a
pleasure trip. Just before our hero
is set to danger, one of the most highly-regarded
and gentle of the
dream-folk comes forward and tells the
dreamer that it doesn't have to be this
way, that maybe together
they can make the others understand that
this need not happen. The dreamer responds
that perhaps this is for
the best: he doesn't want to keep
coming back to this place and causing so
much unrest, and maybe if
he's hanged he'll return to this land
never more. The block is kicked, the rope
snaps taut, and for the
first time, death has come to this mythical
world. The body hangs for a long time,
silhouetted by the setting
sun; the dream-folk, shocked by what
they have don, cannot bring themselves
to cut it down.
Their world will never be the same again.
But this is not the worst of it all, for
something far more terrible
has happened: the dreamer wakes up to
the real world remembering this indignity
to his dream self.
(JUGGERNAUT)
Each of us has many facets to our personalities,
and almost
everybody possesses within them the
capacity for both great good and great
evil. So much for the deep
psycho-babble: unfortunately for
the dream-folk, the remembrance of all
that has been described here
has a profound effect upon the
dreamer's dark side. He once again enters
the mythical place of
dreams, but this time in the aspect
of the JUGGERNAUT, a dark spirit of violence
and fury. perhaps the
dreamer is not fully aware
of what is playing out on the stage of
his subconciousness, but he
has armed the JUGGERNAUT
with the power to kill the immortal dream-folk
as they once killed
his own dream journeyer.
The JUGGERNAUT arrives in the guise of
a friendly old man, his true
purpose carefully hidden, and
comes to live among them for a long time,
winning their trust and
confidence. After a year or so,
paper signs suddenly appear all over the
town,, announcing the
impending arrival of a most unusual
carnival: PANDEMONIUM REVIEW, promising
"twelve nights of excitement
and terror". Shortly
thereafter, the first of the dream-folk
dies.
JUGGERNAUT singles out the one among them
who physically most
closely resembles the shape worn by
the dreamer on his first two prior visits.
The other dream-folk
discover him one morning, hanging by the
neck from the very same tree from which
the dreamer had been hanged.
The rope was made partly of
dark reality, causing the victim to be
killed. The townsfolk are
uncertain of what to make to make of
their discovery, but as yet none can guess
that the twelve nights of
terror have begun.
The second victim is the overly-righteous
blind man, a solitary
meddler who is always trying to stick his
nose into the affairs of others. The JGGERNAUT
ties him up and sets
fire to the blind mans home
but a special kind of fire: one that can
burn dream flesh, and kill.
On the third night, the JUGGERNAUT accosts
three small tramps,
brother hobos, and nails them
through their hearts, side by side upon
the wood of their home.
On the fourth, it is the village beauty
queen, a true Mademoiselle,
who meets her sweet end drowned
and sealed into a barrel of perfume.
On the fifth, the town's Deacon, partner
in overly-moral crime to
the now-deceased blind man, is
crucified upon his parish wall, impaled
through his hands and chest
by three sharpened iron crosses.
With each successive murder, the Juggernauts
power grows, and his
victims grow more helpless to
stop him.
The town grump, who is actually rather
well-liked, is put to slow
death by the insertion of the poisoned
needles of a porcupine, while the unofficial
constable is
skeletonized in an acid bath, his bones
then
propped up within his uniform in front
of his abode - a mocking slap
at law and order.
The town matchmaker, a bitchy spinster,
is locked into a lethal iron
maiden, a spear-lined sarcophagus;
the shopkeeper, universally known as a
miserly money-grubber, has
his eyes gouged out and replaced
by two rolled-up five-dollar bills; another
of the dream-folk is
skinned; and the resident
scientist/philosopher, who has always made
a big deal over how smart
he is, is found with his brain
cut out and pickled in a jar of formaldehyde.
In all of this, the dream-folk never once
guess that their murderer
is the kindly old man living among
them, who can transform himself at will
into the destroyer of the
innocence.
On the twelfth night the JUGGERNAUT goes
to the home of his final
victim, the town fool.
But the fool has a friend with him, and
the two are protecting one
another. The fool's friend happens
to be the same one who came forward when
the dreamer was about to be
hanged, extending a hand of
compassion and understanding: this one
the JUGGERNAUT will not kill.
Nevertheless, the
JUGGERNAUT came for death, and pushes the
friend aside. As the
murderous demon shatters the
fool's breastbone with one savage blow,
the helpless dream creature
utters the only two words that could have
saved him: "I'm sorry." Having recognized that all the
suffering visited upon them was in response
to their hanging the dreamer in the first place, he seeks to
apologize for the wrong committed by him
and
his fellows.
The JUGGERNAUT stands back, this apology
has destroyed his ability
to destroy. Handling a vial of white powder
to the friend, he tells him to pour it into the fool's wound.
The friend is suspicious of the one who
has killed so many of his companions, and asks why the
JUGGERNAUT doesn't do it himself. The JUGGERNAUT
explains that he was made only to destroy, and that it is beyond his power to cure.
Reluctantly the friend does as he is told,
and the fool is saved.
Revealing himself as the old man, the JUGGERNAUT
tells them that he
is going now, and advises them that that
such horrors need never happen again, so long as
friendship and trust is extended to all
future visitors to their dream world. The JUGGERNAUT leaves the land, his dark powers exhausted and final victim spared, one
happy ending in the midst of the holocaust.
(PLAYING POSSUM)
But there will be more happy endings here,
and undoubtedly more unhappy ones as well, as this dreamer
and others return to this place. A dream
is a private thing, and only can be know to one person; but when
the dream is shared, as this one has been,
it belongs to all of us.
This particular dreamer and his JUGGERNAUT
have acted out their atrocities on the stage of one man's
mind: a harmless flight of fancy. But who
is to say that he won't return to his dream to undo the damage
done to the dream-folk? For that matter,
why wait at all? The door to this fantasy will open just as easily for
you...or you, or you. If you don't like
the way things have gone here, change them to fit yourself.
Dream your own dream; no one can stop you.
It's all up to you.