Tokyo Damage Report

I’m in some sort of hospital for horribly burned or deformed women. The women are kept swaddled up so they’re not horrifying but the hospital itself is totally third world. The doctor is sitting on the bed with some girl; she pulls up her skirt ; he fills this giant-ass needle from a conical pile of crystals that someone just dumped on the bed., and he’s plunging it into her lumpy buttocks And there’s a cat in the room too.

the cat walks out and I follow it. then I start petting it. it’s a black and white kitten. Then the ‘camera’ pulls back and I’m no longer in the hospital. . . I’m outdoors by some train tracks. Oh, and I’m a woman now. Some mousy asian girl comes up to me and starts talking. But suddenly I am no longer that woman, ‘my female self’ is now just the main character in a movie I’m watching. The ‘main character’ girl has been lured off the train by the mousy girl who is travelling on the train with her..

‘main girl’ has been receiving letters from some cute guy all summer and she feels sorry for the mousy girl so she pulls out the love letters to share with mousy girl. Except that it’s a trap!! mousy girl runs off-and BAD GIRL comes up to take her place. Bad girl tackles Main Girl out of jealousy and they roll off the side of the train tracks. I can’t see what’s going on (it’s ‘off camera’) but it’s clearly sexual. I can’t tell if they’re both just so horny for this letter-writing guy they’re just having sex with each other out of sheer frustration. Or if evil girl is totally raping main girl. All three girls are sort of identically dressed, young-looking asian women with grey sleeveless dresses and shoulder length hair.

But suddenly the main girl is me again, and it’s dark. The train has started again during the rape or sex or whatever, and I’m running to catch it. it’s so dark. I’m trying to outrun BAD GIRL, who I can feel as a monstrous presence behind me. I’m also trying to catch the train and put on my backpack, and not trip on the train tracks. I’m running incredibly fast. We’re in a forest, and there’s tree limbs that are coming in to grab me too. I can’t tell if she is gaining on me. . . turning around would slow me down. Will she catch me in 5 minutes? or 5 seconds??? The forest gives way to a tunnel, and I start yelling. I’m trying to gauge my distance from the train by how much reverb my yell has. Sort of a primitive radar. But in real life, I just start coughing and wake up.

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I’m seeing the harry potter movie for the first time. Except I’m in high school for some reason, and i’m watching the film with my parents during winter vacation. . .

It’s in japanese.

Harry -the opposite of the real plot- is a normal person adopted by a magic family

The whole film, from it’s big-bang-esque creation scene, to its finale of volcanic violence, is constantly changing and morphing(characters , scenery, and all) The colors are super-over-saturated, and it looks like some insane editor has applied PHOTOSHOP PINCH AND BLOAT FILTERS TO EVERYTHING. it’s on a screen huger than IMAX.. so big i can’t look away from the screen even if the horror grows too intense! The visuals are as beautiful as they are terrifying. Harry/me is constantly trying to escape his family, walk off un-noticed, etc.

The whole plot involves rape. Harry’s magical older step-brothers (2 of them) are constantly trying to molest him. One is huge pink and overly muscled= he has no skin! The muscles slip and slide like slugs around his plump body.. The other is dark green and constantly sprouting a spiders-web of knitting hooks and long pins, which he obsessively counts. "Ooh, look, 24!! 25!! Oooh, another hook!! It’s coming right fooor youuu!!" Both are slowly changing and morphing and penning harry in with their muscles or hooks. Even harry is moving and oozing, in slow motion, as he squeezes into increasingly tight spaces to elude his unspeakable siblings. .. The entire film seems to involve a squirming, hobbit-sized Harry trying to elude his huge, horrible family.

The final scene takes place inside what looks like a 100 foot high womb, with a bunch of viscous spiders’ threads holding a human-shaped figure aloft in the very center. The brothers chase harry inside, and then they stop in horror when they realize that the figure in the center of the womb/room/web is THEIR even older and more unspeakably powerful brother. This brother is perpetually burning to a cinder. . . he’s charred black but at the same time he’s surrounded by a corona of flame so bright that you can’t look directly at him. The fat, skinless stepbrother and the thin, needley one shriek in terror as it becomes evident that they were molested and turned to evil by this older, even more rapacious brother.

At the end, I – the spectator- having spent 2 hours in mortal terror- am involved in the film. The woman next to me in the theatre teaches me a simple spell. I count 3-2-1-go! In japanese, and I am no longer stuck in my seat. I can enter the film and fly around.

After the film, there’s some very PC type, short haired, dashikied,African-american-lady-activist type complaining that this film is really not suitable for young children.

As we leave the theater, My real-life parents tell me they have planned an exhaustive regimen of visits to relatives, etc. with no free time. But I’ve been watching the film with my high school pal/huge crush Shannon York. After it’s over, she reminds me she’s run away and is squatting in S.F. she says I should run away with her and spend winter vacation in the big city. We do this, pursued this time by my real-life family.

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Me and some unseen friend are in a dark room somewhere, watching a videotape. The ‘camera’ looks directly down onto dusty ground. There’s a castrated young boy’s pre-pubescent penis lying in the dirt, and from the left comes this huge brown rattlesnake, who crawls over it, and off the frame right. Then a pause. Then it comes crawling over it again in the opposite direction. This happens a few more times and each time the penis moves a bit more in the direction of the snake. Also the ground under the snake starts to liquefy (like the patterns you make when you stir melted chocolate into your drink, or like the snake has a viscous slug trail or something). The ground sort of smears out in the direction of the snake’s movement too. the snake is always very slow and menacing, like a feeling of power barely leashed or something.

My friend who I never see (as I’m staring transfixed at the video), tells me the plot: the young castrated boy has an important herpetology meeting in some other state. He can either bring the penis or the snake. If he brings the penis he’s no longer castrated. Or if he brings the snake he can participate in the herpetology meeting (and probably win a prize of some sort too). but he can’t do both.

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I was in a clearing in the South American jungle. There was a HUGE, complex machine, maybe 40 feet by 20 by 20, in a clearing in the jungle. It was like a giant cube made out of pistons and levers and tubes and such. The machine made coca-cola. The foreman walked up to me and complained that the machine didn’t work right now because of all the human limbs clogging it up. he shows me a table with a bunch of arms and legs that have been apparently yanked out of the machine like jammed paper yanked out of a Xerox. The funny thing is, they’re not limbs of workers that just accidentally got caught in the machine. These are limbs of very old people who have been dead for months. They’re gray, wrinkled and puffy, and seeping with some unmentionable fluid. Almost spongy in texture- so how did they get in there?

So me and some workers start bagging the limbs, wrapping them up in hefty bags and taping them, (mafia hide-the-bodies style). Then there’s this NEW machine in the jungle, a conveyer belt. As we continue bagging the limbs, the conveyer belt grows and sprouts new machines, until there’s a whole FACTORY here now. We’re putting the packaged limbs on the conveyer belt, which takes them god knows where. A really odd thing happens then: synesthesia!! The touch turns into taste! Instead of just touching the limbs, now I’m tasting them. This is pretty unprecedented in my dreams, though I’ve heard about it happening. The taste is a slightly viscous liquid, with little sharp chunks of bone floating around.

The scene abruptly shifts. I’m back in the jungle, this time at night, overlooking a beach. I’m in some ‘Great White Hunter’-type film. You know-the old fashioned type of film where white guys in pith helmets run around the jungle trying to score treasure and running from angry jungle black dudes. I can’t see the angry jungle dudes either, they’re just like this omnipresent fearful feeling. Everywhere yet nowhere, and about to pounce. I don’t see my pith-helmeted friends either, but it’s up to me to save my friends in the dream, . . . . but how?

I have to run down to the ocean – with no cover-and start swimming before they can catch me. I will cross the ocean to some magical island where I can find some magical thing (a spell? An object? A helpful person??) who can save me and my friends back in the jungle.

So, steeling my courage, I bolt down out of the jungle, down to the beach, and then reach the ocean. Suddenly I’m going a million miles per hour. but instead of swimming, I’m FLYING, maybe 3 feet above the ocean surface, like a warp-speed hydrofoil. My mood goes from fearful to exhilarated. Shit, this is amazing!! Pretty soon the ocean starts to put on a lightshow like the end of 2001. the lighter parts of the waves stay the same but the shadows become windows into another world, of kalidescopic intensely bright, geometric patterns that shift rapidly, and the ‘windows’ shift rapidly also (because they’re part of the waves), and above the ocean, I am moving rapidly on this THIRD level.

Then the ‘windows’ stop showing kalidescopic patterns, and start showing picture frames. beneath the ocean are millions of giant picture frames, hanging vertically, extending out to infinity in all directions. I’m flying perpendicular to the frames, and the front of one frame will be maybe 6 inches from the back of the next frame. But the frames are so close together, I can’t see what’s in them.

Eventually I get to the magical island. Something on this island can save my friends on the jungle. The island is very small and the weather is very light and breezy. There is an INCREDIBLY BRIGHT WHITE, almost luminous Victorian house there that takes up half the island. I sneak in the house. I’m happy to be here because salvation is here. But also if I’m caught, I will be punished, so it’s very scary. It looks like an ordinary house but it is the locus of incredibly strong supernatural forces that will rip me apart if I’m not careful. I’m sneaking around and I hear noises. There’s a nice older white-person couple puttering around in the kitchen. But I know they’re secretly these super-powerful mystical beings. They have something I need but I can’t ask them, or something terrible will happen. I keep sneaking around, and then the dream ends.

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I’m in a hotel room somewhere, watching a tv that’s suspended near the roof. It’s a movie set in the Italian countryside.

Mummified corpses are hanging from wires that stretch across roads and village squares, as a message to the terrified populace. Sometimes the corpses are single, sometimes in pairs. Sometimes in vast numbers, with limbs turned in impossible directions or limbs missing. They are swaddled in linen bandages to hide the gore.

Then they start showing the torture chambers that produce these mummies, and I wrap my OWN head in pajamas to avoid seeing it. eventually I become too curious and peek out over the pajamas. I see a naked teenage boy with a shaved head on a table in a black room. Muscular men in the shadows hold him down while one guy drives a 8 inch nail through his knee into the table. The kid starts screaming in this hoarse voice. Then they put a second spike into his crotch. Then they drive a third spike into his chest HEADFIRST!

The movie goes into a montage of such crucifixions. Close-up Shots of small children of various races with spikes poised above their faces. Mummified bodies dangling from wires in various agonistic poses.

Then we enter a huge black room echoing with screams. A dozen of the smallest, most helpless prisoners are getting nailed to the floor by people kneeling above them. But the second-tier prisoners are getting spikes pounded into their backs by third-tier prisoners sitting on raised stools above THEM, and so forth. The higher a prisoner is, the less people are pounding nails into him. Then everybody breaks for lunch. They go wait in line at a cafeteria offscreen to the left. When they come back they discover that their chairs are all lower, pulling them down one tier. I’m inside the movie, sitting at a chair now. In front of me is a table full of greasy food. In the center of the table is a small black and white plastic hook of some sort. I pull on it, and it is held to the table by elastic wire that goes under the table and connects to some kind of apparatus.

I realize that this is the machine that lowers the chairs whenever someone gets up to eat, or get ’seconds’. Because of this machine, no prisoner will ever be able to get to the top and escape the omnipresent spikes in the back. then the scene shifts.

We’re outdoors in the woods. A man has a little horse-drawn cart and he’s selling pizza out the back of it. a peasant woman is eating a slice and sharing a chat with the man. Up walks a portly, pissed off, balding guy wearing a wife-beater shirt totally stained with blood: he’s one of the torturers, coming home from a long day of work. He walks up and wordlessly grabs a slice of pizza, staring at the other two in a hostile way. They don’t make eye contact- the civilians are clearly terrified but scared to even show the terror. This goes on for an uncomfortable amount of time.

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I’m once again dropped into the middle of an epic movie, the plot of which hasn’t been explained to me. Hundreds of citizens sit in outdoor bleachers, while a phalanx of vaguely Roman-looking soldiers prepare to shoot arrows into them from 20 feet away. but only I – and a few other hipsters- know the secret. The secret is that the soldiers are NOT killing random citizens. They’re going to kill only those people targeted by the snitches, and they’re going to ‘miss’ when they fire at the snitches themselves. That way no one will suspect who the real snitches are. . . after all, the soldiers TRIED to kill the snitch too, right?

I’m not going to let the brutal soldiers get away with their fiendish plot. I recognize a snitch in the front row-a plain-looking middle-aged woman with chin length curly black hair, and I start yelling ‘SHE’S A SNITCH! SHE’S A SNITCH! admit it! ‘ and I take an arrow from the ground and I start pressing it against her jugular vein. She’s scared to die, but she’s apparently EVEN MORE SCARED of being exposed as a snitch, because she doesn’t admit it. so I slowly push the arrow into her neck, killing her.

then, some centurion comes up to me!He’s got a huge, unkempt beard and his breastplate is so festooned with medals it looks like it’s mossy. also, for some reason he’s got modern-day engineer’s goggles. He’s pointing a flintlock pistol at me. my rage is out of control. I pull that old ‘WHO YOU GONNA SHOOT WITH THAT, PUNK? I dare ya!" gesture that Ice Cube did in BOYZ N THA HOOD. He’s a foot from my face. Abruptly he turns and fires into the crowd. Then -psyche- he turns again and shoots me 3 times right in the chest. There’s no blood, and no pain but I collapse to the ground, dead.

He leaves, and some friends of mine from the Underground Resistance come up, to see my corpse. Suddenly I rise again, but then I stumble and fall and am still.

Then the scene shifts. I’m in a boarding house run by a middle aged woman. She’s just had the whole place renovated, and I’m the first tenant to move in. I’ve got a small clean white room, and there’s a large sparkling bathroom. I’m chilling in my room and hear the other tenants moving in. The other tenants’ stuff overflows into the halls. The bathroom especially. Apparently the other tenants require specialized toilets. . . every time I go there, there’s more pipes and tubes and dials and cords. Eventually it’s so crowded with plubming that I literally can’t fit in the bathroom anymore!

we have large communal dinners, and I stand up at one such dinner and accuse this other tenant of making the mess (another older lady). Then I run outside and poop in my car. To do this I run a transparent plastic hose from the bathroom to the driver’s seat of my car and then sit on the hose. I’m trying to squeeze out a turd, when I see there’s something wrong with the plumbing: the hose is transparent, so I can see the sewage moving. . . TOWARD my butt, not away from it. That can’t be right! I yank the hose out of me, spraying liquid poo around the car. . .and it gets into my mouth. It’s a lot saltier than I’d imagined.

The scene shifts yet again:

Now I’m a disembodied observer. There’s an overhead tracking shot of a scenic river surrounded by beautiful green hills. The river is shallow, full of rocks, and gravel. There’s dozens of naked men crawling upstream on hands and knees. Apparently this is some sort of field trip for the ‘MEN WHO HAVE A SEXUAL FETISH FOR CRAWLING THROUGH A GRAVELLY RIVER’ club. Everyone’s naked. All different body shapes and sizes, crawling and grunting and being masculine as hell.

Now the camera angle is on the ground, on the side of the river. I’m watching the guys go by. One guy is a long-haired blonde hippy. He’s got some grotesque hairy root in his mouth, he’s sucking on it as he crawls. I can’t tell if it’s his giant hairy dick or his dreadlocked hippy beard. Some other guys in the crowd also have odd sexual deformities. As the guys round a bend in the river, they come to a massive lake! The camera slowly pans across the lake. . . In the middle of the lake are two small islands (maybe 30 meters wide) with nearly vertical sides. The larger island has a huge rock formation sprouting from its top. This natural rock formation, as you might guess, is shaped like a huge penis . . . it even has a big oak tree growing at its base for pubic hair!

One particularly heroic, muscley guy gets off his knees and looks right at the cock. (Camera angle: medium shot, worms-eye-view, looking up at him. He’s backlit and the water drips off his muscles) he’s going to get up to the top of Cock Island if it kills him!Even though it’s a mile away and the walls are vertical!! Luckily for him, the lake is changing, slowly beiming more industrialized. On top of the nearer, smaller island, there is now some sort of mini-hydroelectric power plant. There are chains and wires running from the shore to the island.

With a surge of power, he leaps up and grabs a cable with both hands. Through some heroically nimble gymnastics, he manages to slide along the cable all the way to the first island. Meanwhile, the lake, once pristine and natural, has continued to change. Now there’s smog, and clanking noises. A SECOND hydroelectric plant has appeared on Cock Island, and luckily there’s now cables and chains connecting the two islands. It looks like our hero might succeed! He motions to us other guys to follow him! It can be done! We all make a mad dash for the cables . . . .

. . . but meanwhile the tiny hydroelectric plant on the first island has ALSO been growing. Now it’s this HUGE, factory-sized monster. . full of gears that are pulling the chains inside of it. and pulling us, along with the chains!! We’re all being sucked into its huge mouth, where we’ll certainly be ground into hamburger by its gears. There’s no way to let go either, since it’s now easily a mile high. Letting go would mean falling to our death. We pass inside its huge mouth, into a vast cavernous space full of clanking and piston noises… we see the giant gears growing closer and closer . . . just as I’m about to get ground up, I awake.

I mean, damn!! I’ve already been shot and killed, and eaten shit, that’s enough for one night!! I don’t need to be ground into paste too!!!!

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