Monday, April 02, 2007

Creepy

Here is what I remember from my dream last night:

I'm at some event inside a massive building that's a cross between a hotel and a shopping centre; I have to erect a tent to shower in.

As I'm setting up the tent poles, I notice a bunch of junk lying around the mall--boxes, those big under-the-bed bags you store your winter clothes in, etc.

I walk over to one that looks like it's full of cool old clothes (I'm a vintage clothing freak), and in a way it is. Only the clothes are still being worn by the exceptionally well-preserved corpses of their original owners. That's right: a nicely arranged row of 19th-century corpses is lying fully dressed in one of those under-the-bed clothing storage bags.

I run around frantically, trying to find a manager. I finally find one. (They're even hard to find in dreams for Pete's sake.) Impatiently, she tells me I'll have to take it "downstairs." I try to argue--can't she see I'm trying to put up my shower tent? Why should I have to take the corpses down? She's having none of it.

I grab the corner of the bag and heave, following behind her as she leads me to a doorway. Slowly, she creaks the door open. I look in on a stairwell that leads into a dark grimey dungeon-like basement filled with discarded junk. She points over to a far corner full of other bags of corpses. "Just go throw them on there."

I stand there, expecting her to help me down the stairs with the bag, but she says "I'm not going down there."

"Well at least hold the door open for me," I reply. She nods. I heave the bag down the stairs, make my way through all the junk and toss the bag on its pile. I glance for a moment at the bag's occupants. Their clothes are really cool...

...I'm wracked by shudders. I get a cold tingly back-of-the-neck feeling that I haven't got much time to get out of there before these folks re-animate. Just as I turn to make my way back to the stairs, the horrible manager person turns off the light and closes the door. I'll kill her, I think, as I blindly run for the stairwell...

I'm no dream interpreter, but bags of neatly stored, well-dressed corpses can't be good. And don't stairwells down into dark basements represent a descent into the unconscious self or some such crap?

I'm pretty sure that part of it has to do with a recently discovered phobia I have for certain antique hats and furniture. Once in a while I'll come across an item online or in an antique shop and it'll just give me the ultimate creeps, for no esthetic or other apparent reason--and here's the thing: I can't stop thinking about these items' dead owners. My revulsion is sometimes so strong that I can barely bring myself to touch or continue looking at the item--and it's always a hat or a piece of furniture.

The other quality they all have in common is they're always from the 19th Century.

Weird, no?

Er, just thought I'd share...

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16 Comments:

Blogger Ann-imal said...

Umm, I am at a loss for words... Ummm, yeah, in the future, I will refrain from bringing over any of my "scary" hats... yeah....

4:50 PM  
Blogger whyioughtta said...

Yes, I really wish you'd stop wearing those 19th century mourning bonnets. They're so 1874...

4:52 PM  
Blogger angrycandy said...

oh..i had tears in my eyes...from laughing...i really connected with the shower tent part....i have many dreams where i'm desperately trying to get a shower going in really strange places...anyway, re the 19th century, i hear you. it's creepy. isn't that where the whole goth thing came from originally? the whole white skin/black lace thing - death as fashion kinda vibe? or is it earlier? or does it just resurface in each century? anyway, i always connect it with the 18th...miss j's little claw brooch comes from that era i'm sure...and it's the creeeeepiest...umm, if you're not too busy, i would like you to put the whole "goth" thing in a socio/political/fashion context for me when you have the time....thanks.

5:30 PM  
Blogger Moose said...

That is the very definition of creepy. You should leverage the creep with Hollywood and become the inventor of a new genre: Fashion thriller. Devil Wears Prada meets Sixth Sense. Or, um, something.

5:46 PM  
Blogger Fat Sparrow said...

Dream analysis? Lay off the canned pork and beans before you go to bed. That is my considered opinion.

6:48 PM  
Blogger whyioughtta said...

Haha, FS it's so funny you should say that because I MADE BEANS YESTERDAY. Seriously. Maple syrup beans. Old Quebecois recipe.

You know, I think you may be right...

7:20 PM  
Blogger whyioughtta said...

p.s.

AC: Definite death obsession in the Victorian era, spearheaded by Ol' Perma-Mourn herself. Super creepy.

I talk about the Victorian penchant for encasing the hair of dead relatives in jewellery here:
http://stylaholic.blogspot.com/2006/06/
antique-chic-edwardian-period.html

Moose: Flair Witch Story? Dead du Jour? Mummy Face? I've got a million of 'em...

7:42 PM  
Blogger Kav said...

lJeebus, that is weird. Everything about that post scared the crap out of me. The only thing it needed was some of those porcelain dolls, and my terror would be complete.

6:30 AM  
Blogger whyioughtta said...

Kav: The dead people looked like those porcelain dolls. Or a set of really grotesque (and large) Crayolas. Does that complete the terror?

8:20 AM  
Blogger Ann-imal said...

Umm, I have a locket of hair I want to encase... I guess it's kinda creepy but it belongs to my Dad...

What I think is creepier is the locket of hair of a child that was stillborn... That's freaky... I have heard of that before.

Okay, porcelain dolls are scary, but what about those cloth dolls that stand in the corner pretending to play "hide 'n' seek"... You know the ones - it's like they are counting to one hundred or something. THOSE freak me out - that and clowns. BUT no dreams about clowns... I digress and have completely gone off the point...

11:21 AM  
Blogger whyioughtta said...

Ann-imal: Totally agree--Those hide-and-seek dolls are creepy because THEY HAVE NO HEAD. They're just an ass. That shit's just wrong.

11:39 AM  
Blogger whyioughtta said...

Also creepy: anything with more than 8 legs.

Centipedes are unnatural.

Millipedes are the insect that infests Hell.

11:42 AM  
Blogger angrycandy said...

or no legs (i.e. maggots...) here's a gross story for y'all. i lived in taiwan for a couple of years. it was so godamned hot and humid there that if you left something in one place for more than a couple of days, mould would start growing on it...anyway, we used to hang our dishcloths on some pegs a couple of feet over the gargage. we generally changed our garbage pretty often, but one week, as we'd eaten out all week, we hadn't changed it in, oh, four or five days. I washed some dishes and took up the dishcloth to wipe them and noticed some grains of rice on it. "hmmm" i thought as i was shaking it out, "these grains of rice sure are sticky..." and then i realized, prepare yourselves, that the grains of rice were in fact maggots. and they were everywhere....they'd grown in the garbage and spread (probably i threw something in and the maggot "seed" splashed up to the towel, and lo, maggot infestation...it was like a scene from a horror movie...just thinking about it makes me want to have a shower...anyway! just thought i'd share! i know it has nothing to do with anything (other than death that is). happy dreaming!

p.s. hide and seek dolls make me think of the last scene from blair witch which freaked me out totally...

pps. those beans rocked. also the blueberry pancakes...mmmmm....

6:00 PM  
Blogger whyioughtta said...

AC: Er, thanks for sharing. I'll never look at rice the same way again. Or dishcloths.

All: Other items to add to the creepy list:

--That "instant soup" commercial where the people drink the can of soup they're holding in one hand while their other hand keeps working at lighning speed. Fake sped-up limbs are creepy.

--All commercials where dogs and cats talk.

--Jennifer Jason Leigh in the movie "Single White Female" and Matt Damon in "The Talented Mr. Ripley." All stalking and identity-theft is creepy, in fact.

--Axl Rose.

7:11 PM  
Blogger Conan said...

i never try to interpret my dreams - i'd drive myself nuts if i did. the other day i apparently told my wife that i was sorry - i could only get 6 addresses and it was all my fault !

go figure

5:26 AM  
Blogger whyioughtta said...

Welcome, Conan. Let's see--what could the backstory be on your dream? You've been kidnapped by a hideous telemarketing overlord? Possibly. You're an international secret agent looking for the residences of the world's worst human rights offenders? Cool. You and your wife are a Mr. and Mrs. Smith-style husband-wife hit team? Interesting.

I don't know what any of that means to you, but: Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie? A little creepy to me.

8:40 AM  

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