Pigsflew.com

in case anyone’s confused by the “Strawberry Fields forever” thing on my last post, it’s a song by the beatles, written by John Lennon, and when it was first described to me (and the reason I like it), i was told that it had to do with his childhood. Here’s a blurb from legend-johnlennon.com:

John Lennon was born on October 9, 1940 in Liverpool, England. When he was four years old, his parents separated and he ended up living with his Aunt Mimi. John’s father was a merchant seaman and John did not see a lot of his father when he was small. As a child, John was a prankster and he enjoyed getting in trouble. As a Little Johnboy and young adult, John enjoyed drawing grotesque figures and cripples. One of the reasons for his obsession with cripples and deformities was because of the Death of his Mother Julia. The John’s school master  thought that John could go to an art school for college, since he did not get good  grades in school, but  had artistic talent. He made it to art school, and was not allow to play “Rock and Roll”. At this college, he met a woman by the name of Cynthia Powell, who became his first wife. As a child, John lived a life of uninterrupted calm. He didn’t recall feeling desperately sad or unusually happy. Unfortunately that calm was suddenly shattered when his mother died before his 18th birthday.

According to the person describing the song, Strawberry Fields was a place near his home with his Aunt, and the song describes the fact that his childhood was… not real. and nothing to get hungabout.

There’s a lot of argument that the song could be about drugs and crap, but i don’t care. this is what i want the song to be about.

i assume anyone who wants to read the lyrics or whatever can use google.

I made myself a new icon. But it’s dedicated to my good friend Steve Scapicchio.

Here goes:

CHIEF JUSTICE (of the Supreme Court)!!!! he’s my favorite superhero.

I had a really weird dream last night. You could call it a nightmare, but I wasn’t really scared, I just had to keep going.

It started with going to the movies. It wasn’t War of the Worlds, but it was something very similar. Anyway, I was there with a couple friends. I don’t remember who exactly, but suddenly we weren’t in the theater anymore, we were in the movie.

We were running, it was me and two friends and a bunch of people we’d saved. There was a woman with her son who was in a wheelchair. There was a man with glasses who was an engineer. There were a few kids a little younger than myself. There was a doctor. We got back to my house and staked out in the basement, from here it gets interesting.

My family set up base in the basement back behind the stairwell, they set up computers, and the Engineer was building a ham radio. The Woman was helping them, and Jai and Nathan were with the other kids out in the garage. I was near the Doctor and… i think one of the friends might have been Ursula. We were looking out the garage window at the driveway and the trees across, then suddenly a tripod thing came blasting through, and all the trees fell and exploded–it was quite fantastic. For a moment I had the idea that I was still at the film, and checked my watch. “Eight o’clock, so the Tripods show up about halfway through the movie.” I took off my shoes.

Time passed, then looking out the window again nothing was recognizable. There was some land far away, and everything else was this seething, boiling red liquid mass. It looked like something out of Doom. I decided it was blood. There were still people out there, and every now and again one would be chased through the land we could see and then killed. A few of the kids were yelling, particularly one larger one with a buzz cut. “Hey,” I said, semi-quietly, but loud enough to get their attention. “If you want to get yourself killed that’s one thing, but I will not have you sacrifice the entire Group just so that you can get your aggression out. You will either stay quiet, or you will leave this basement.”

But it was too late. A bunch of the aliens started coming towards us on a platform. Except they weren’t aliens, they were men in suits. I sounded the alarm and everybody started getting ready to try to run or hide. Oh Shit, I thought. I need my shoes.The Woman passed me as I was running back out into the garage and said “I’m sorry, but my son…”

“It’s ok. Save your boy. Make sure he’s all set, and then help the others.” What are we going to do? Where will we run? How the hell do we get out of this one? The Woman looked away and continued readying the boy in the wheelchair to go.

I went back out into the garage and ran for the first pair of shoes I saw. They weren’t mine. I put them on anyway. (It’s interesting to note that they didn’t fit quite right, and in a dream, my feet felt wierd.) Then one of the ‘aliens’ entered the garage. I motioned for anyone behind me to stay back and get out, and I stood my ground. He started talking but I couldn’t hear him. “That won’t help you,” I said. I have no idea where that came from.

He stepped into full line of view and spoke, this time audibly. “Excuse me,” he nodded, coughing once. “I am a software uninstall gone horribly wrong.”

Then I woke up.