Homunculus

Last night, at the end of a rather “meh” sort of day, I was sorting through my DVDs  and came upon Cool Hand Lukean early Paul Newman vehicle.  So I turned on the heater in the lounge and sat down to view the movie.   I had bought the disc on a whim some time ago and had not yet got around to watching it.  I had last seen the movie when it came out originally, and that was back when I was at high school.  I barely remembered it except for a vague recollection that I did not “get” it at the time.  I think I did this time.  I also recognised scenes that the Coen Brothers paid homage to in Oh Brother Where Art Thou?

For no reason I can think of, I then played  Alien, the Ridley Scott Gothic Horror movie presented as Science Fiction.

Then, well past midnight, fortified by a stubby of Carlton Dry, I went to bed.

I dreamed I was trapped in a lock-up with my wife and a small dead homunculus, that was beginning to decompose.  It smelled like the joint of meat I retrieved and disposed of  at the tip last week, taken from the property of a dog owner who thought it may have been dumped at her place in an attempt to bait and poison her German Shepherd.

Health Inspectors get all the fun.  But I digress.  I was telling of my dream.  This is the first I recall that included odourama. Smellevision.

I was trying to convince my wife that it was time to dispose of the homunculus.  Bury it and move on.  She refused.  In the end, after fruitless efforts to convince her,  I decided the only thing to do was escape.  I had to escape.  Somehow, I did so, completely naked – until I was lucky enough to find a large beach towel to wrap around my ample waist.  I thought this was a definite stroke of luck, because I would probably stand out in the crowd unclothed as I was.  I distinctly remember thinking that things must be looking up at last, because though this was not the first time I had dreamed myself naked in public, it was the first time I had actually found a beach towel!  Thus I recognised this had to be a dream even before I awoke.   Nonetheless when I did, I was relieved to find no homunculus. Or wife.

Amateur (or professional) analyses welcome.

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About Alan

Alone in a sea of spinifex.
This entry was posted in Art, Autobiography, Drama, Entertainment, Family, Folklore, Food and drink, Health and wellness, History, Life, don't talk to me about life!, Lifestyle, Music, Philosophy. Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Homunculus

  1. Alan says:

    Not good enough. I need answers NOW. Am I going sane?

    Like

  2. Pilgrim33 says:

    Let me think that over for a century or three.

    Like

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