Mar 27, 2011
I have a recurring dream where I am skiing or driving or something like that, and suddenly I’m launched off a cliff up into the wild blue yonder, sort of like Wile E. Coyote, and for a moment I’m hovering there, literally miles high, pondering my fate. Of course, I then fall, and usually when I hit the ground I wake up, but last night was different.
I was driving my Octagon resonating MG convertible, which of course had no brakes - obviously a death trap. I’m driving along, without my glasses (?) and I drive right off a cliff, and land in a valley far below. Except this time, I survived the impact. I become a bit of a minor celebrity in the papers, becoming the “the man who survived certain death” or some such. But the odd thing was that I was really dead. I hadn’t survived.
Airshow ends in tragedy after stunt pilot crashes; William 'Wild Bill' Walker dies in horrific blaze.
He was flying a Soviet Yak-52, part of the “Red Thunder Air Show”, in the "Wings Over Flagler Fly In" in northeast Florida. So yes, another NE, masculine arrow point, but personally strange because Fort Flagler WA was where I met my echo last summer - A Road Trip With VALIS.
I remember Heinlein’s Stranger in a Strange Land, where to the Martians, the veil between life and death was so thin as to be inconsequential. It makes me wonder, how many of us ARE there, walking the earth, disguised as the living? Strangers in a strange land, indeed. I wish we had some kind of secret handshake or tattoo or something...