![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
May 30, 2024 - A Dream of Diefendorfer
Jun. 10th, 2024 05:52 pmI dreamt I had finished all but the last 2gr dose of the mushrooms Allen Ginsberg brought me in March. I hadn’t yet ventured outside on a mushroom trip, so decided to give it a try. I ate my lunch (which consisted of a 743.52 California Rolls), consumed the mushrooms, and caught the Galaxy Express 999 to the east side of the Tilikum Crossing. By then the shrooms were in full swing. It was a gloriously beautiful day, and the walk across the Tilikum was most pleasant.
A spirit guide manifested itself in my thoughts: Deputy Clyde Diefendorfer, as portrayed by Walker Edmiston in the 1959 Maverick episode, “Gun Shy”. There’s an unaffected innocence about him that’s refreshing, not to mention his gentle musical drawl (and yes, I know, this character was based on Dennis Weaver’s character Chester B. Goode on Gunsmoke). Despite being the deputy, Diefendorfer still gives Maverick (James Garner) the benefit of the doubt instead of running him out of town or hollering for the sheriff—he even offers him coffee. The timing and chemistry between Edmiston and Garner was good, too.
Anyway, by the time I reached the western side of the Tilikum, I was getting a little dizzy and ready for a coffee. There was a Starbucks there. I wasn’t hungry enough for a snack, but I wanted more than just a coffee, so I looked at the frappuccino menu. I don’t usually order those so wasn’t sure exactly what was in them. I asked the barista a few questions, but ah spoke in muh best Diefendorfer voice: “Now, ah never ordered me one of them frappuccinos before, can y’all tell me what all’s in ’em?” I eventually ordered a mocha cookie crumble drink, then walked along the river and found a bench upon which to sit. I was wearing my pink Kirby bucket hat, my bright yellow hoodie, a pair of slacks decorated with a busy floral pattern, and drinking a frozen drink with cookies in it. I felt like a little kid having a nice day out, without a care in the world, just allowed to be a kid. I reflected on my own childhood, which wasn’t an easy one, and dictated the following (edited for clarity) into my phone:
And I wept, tears of joy. They say shrooms often reveals truths to you, and it sure seemed to do just that on that day.
After a while, when I thought the shrooms had peaked, I thought I should start walking again, but then an incredibly intense wave of—how do I describe it? Euphoria is perhaps the closest I can come—euphoria washed over me. I wasn’t afraid; I wasn’t concerned that I had taken more than I should have, so I just stayed sitting and waited for it to pass. But it happened again. And again. And again. I was reminded of Lord Alfred Tennyson’s The Idylls of the King, specifically, from “The Coming of Arthur”:
I was also beginning to yawn almost uncontrollably. I could only imagine my body or my spirit or both were getting exhausted processing so much euphoria—we should all have this trouble, right? My original plan had been to hang out downtown until dinner time, then pick up something to go, but it wasn’t quite yet 3pm. Finally, I decided to head for the orbiting food space station then go home. I could always reheat my dinner, right? I made it home without incident, though it was becoming a struggle just to walk. When I reached my apartment building, I was dismayed to see the elevator was out of order! I had no choice but to take the stairs. About halfway to my apartment, which was on the 5,077th floor, I had to stop and lean against the wall. I was already beyond running on fumes. It took a supreme effort to make it the rest of the way to my apartment. I finally did, and jumped into bed. I thought I would fall instantly asleep, but I didn’t, and I got back up after a half hour or so. I think I just needed to rest some place safe. Finally, the waves stopped coming. It seemed like they had gone on for endless hours, but it had only been about four hours, equal to the other times I had consumed shrooms.
And then I awoke from my dream!
I ate my dinner (since visiting the orbiting food space station had only been a dream, I made do with something canned and microwaved) and took my tincture. I already had a video ready to watch. A couple of months ago, I noticed that actress Joan Hickson (best remembered for her portrayal of the titular character of Miss Marple) had a voice similar to that of Harold Bennett, who portrayed Young Mr. Grace on Are You Being Served? though, of course, at a different pitch. Since then, whenever I would watch either Marple or Served while stoned, I’d get a good laugh imagining the two characters had somehow switched places. With that in mind, I took an episode of Marple, “The Murder at the Vicarage”, and substituted many of Hickson’s lines with those by Bennett from several episodes of Served. I did the substitutions at random, so as not to anticipate the “jokes”. I also added a few cultured, refined sound effects. Some of the substitutions were funny, but many were just odd, and made Marple seemed like her mind was just wandering. I enjoyed watching the episode anyway: the cast was superb, particularly Paul Eddington, Cheryl Campbell, David Horovitch, Robert Lang, Rachel Weaver and, of course, Hickson. The direction by Julian Amyes was quite elegant and subtle, as was the incidental music by Ken Howard. Here’s a condensed version:
A spirit guide manifested itself in my thoughts: Deputy Clyde Diefendorfer, as portrayed by Walker Edmiston in the 1959 Maverick episode, “Gun Shy”. There’s an unaffected innocence about him that’s refreshing, not to mention his gentle musical drawl (and yes, I know, this character was based on Dennis Weaver’s character Chester B. Goode on Gunsmoke). Despite being the deputy, Diefendorfer still gives Maverick (James Garner) the benefit of the doubt instead of running him out of town or hollering for the sheriff—he even offers him coffee. The timing and chemistry between Edmiston and Garner was good, too.
Anyway, by the time I reached the western side of the Tilikum, I was getting a little dizzy and ready for a coffee. There was a Starbucks there. I wasn’t hungry enough for a snack, but I wanted more than just a coffee, so I looked at the frappuccino menu. I don’t usually order those so wasn’t sure exactly what was in them. I asked the barista a few questions, but ah spoke in muh best Diefendorfer voice: “Now, ah never ordered me one of them frappuccinos before, can y’all tell me what all’s in ’em?” I eventually ordered a mocha cookie crumble drink, then walked along the river and found a bench upon which to sit. I was wearing my pink Kirby bucket hat, my bright yellow hoodie, a pair of slacks decorated with a busy floral pattern, and drinking a frozen drink with cookies in it. I felt like a little kid having a nice day out, without a care in the world, just allowed to be a kid. I reflected on my own childhood, which wasn’t an easy one, and dictated the following (edited for clarity) into my phone:
| That was one good kid, even if his parents didn’t appreciate him. He turned out okay. Maybe he didn’t become the president or conquer the world or anything, but the things he’s experienced, those are just between him and the universe. That’s one amazing kid. [He] would’ve done any parent proud. It’s not his fault [he got] the ones he got. It’s a wonder he turned out so amazing in spite of it all. |
And I wept, tears of joy. They say shrooms often reveals truths to you, and it sure seemed to do just that on that day.
After a while, when I thought the shrooms had peaked, I thought I should start walking again, but then an incredibly intense wave of—how do I describe it? Euphoria is perhaps the closest I can come—euphoria washed over me. I wasn’t afraid; I wasn’t concerned that I had taken more than I should have, so I just stayed sitting and waited for it to pass. But it happened again. And again. And again. I was reminded of Lord Alfred Tennyson’s The Idylls of the King, specifically, from “The Coming of Arthur”:
|
Wave after wave, each mightier than the last Till last, a ninth one, gathering half the deep And full of voices, slowly rose and plunged Roaring, and all the wave was in a flame |
I was also beginning to yawn almost uncontrollably. I could only imagine my body or my spirit or both were getting exhausted processing so much euphoria—we should all have this trouble, right? My original plan had been to hang out downtown until dinner time, then pick up something to go, but it wasn’t quite yet 3pm. Finally, I decided to head for the orbiting food space station then go home. I could always reheat my dinner, right? I made it home without incident, though it was becoming a struggle just to walk. When I reached my apartment building, I was dismayed to see the elevator was out of order! I had no choice but to take the stairs. About halfway to my apartment, which was on the 5,077th floor, I had to stop and lean against the wall. I was already beyond running on fumes. It took a supreme effort to make it the rest of the way to my apartment. I finally did, and jumped into bed. I thought I would fall instantly asleep, but I didn’t, and I got back up after a half hour or so. I think I just needed to rest some place safe. Finally, the waves stopped coming. It seemed like they had gone on for endless hours, but it had only been about four hours, equal to the other times I had consumed shrooms.
And then I awoke from my dream!
I ate my dinner (since visiting the orbiting food space station had only been a dream, I made do with something canned and microwaved) and took my tincture. I already had a video ready to watch. A couple of months ago, I noticed that actress Joan Hickson (best remembered for her portrayal of the titular character of Miss Marple) had a voice similar to that of Harold Bennett, who portrayed Young Mr. Grace on Are You Being Served? though, of course, at a different pitch. Since then, whenever I would watch either Marple or Served while stoned, I’d get a good laugh imagining the two characters had somehow switched places. With that in mind, I took an episode of Marple, “The Murder at the Vicarage”, and substituted many of Hickson’s lines with those by Bennett from several episodes of Served. I did the substitutions at random, so as not to anticipate the “jokes”. I also added a few cultured, refined sound effects. Some of the substitutions were funny, but many were just odd, and made Marple seemed like her mind was just wandering. I enjoyed watching the episode anyway: the cast was superb, particularly Paul Eddington, Cheryl Campbell, David Horovitch, Robert Lang, Rachel Weaver and, of course, Hickson. The direction by Julian Amyes was quite elegant and subtle, as was the incidental music by Ken Howard. Here’s a condensed version:
