h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

This is the story of Purple Crow. I wrote it, this day of 4th October, 2005, for absolutely no reason whatsover. Its a fact/fiction/dream creation. In my younger days, i.e. about two weeks ago, I would have submitted it as a Guide Entry, but Dream has re-arranged my brain to such an extent that I've gone all sensitive.


The Story of Purple Crow

At 7.26 this morning, Purple Crow flew at high speed into the side of the Museum - turning himself into a splattered mess of feathers, bones and claws. His mysterious death was recorded on the CCTV.

The People of Crow Kingdom have been talking about it all day.

I often sit with the People of Crow Kingdom - in the cafe at the railway station. The People of Crow Kingdom is just my name for them. They are a group of crow-watchers. The station is their daytime home. They keep notebooks of crow facts and crow drawings.

There are many crows at the railway station. They lurk on the side of the platform, waiting for scraps of burger and chips - or carrion, on those lucky days.

Purple Crow was one of these. We all called him Purple Crow. His feathers had a purple sheen in certain light. He would turn one way - shiny black. He would turn the other way - shiny purple. Purple, black, purple, black, there beside the railway track.

Once I went to the Museum with one of the People from Crow Kingdom.
We were in search of the bird-man for some crow facts. The bird-man works in the bird-room. He sits all day behind glass cases of bird skeletons.

Last night I dreamed about the bird-man. He was in the bird-room as usual, only he was wearing a black silk shirt. It was a strange shirt. It had a purple sheen in certain light. He would turn one way - shiny black. He would turn the other way - shiny purple.

In the dream, the bird-man looked up at me - rather urgent and anguished - as if he wanted to whisper a secret.

Just as I leaned forward to interpret his whisper, I awoke. 7.26 a.m. - four minutes ahead of my alarm.

I have felt nervous all day.


Helen

You're right to worry. Crows are harbingers of bad things.

It's amazing how many native American legends involve crows.

The story of how the crow brought daylight to the eskimos is just one of these. http://www.firstpeople.us/FP-Html-Legends/Crow_Brings_Daylight-Eskimo.html

If I were you I'd go back to bed and dream something more positive and less sinister.

Hi Phred,

I think that Helen is a little like me in her dreaming patterns.

We cannot choose our dreams, or the nature of them.

All my dreams are nightmares. I never now have those pleasant or exciting dreams we all, perhaps, had in our youth; triggered, I suppose, by subconscious awakening sexual awareness.

But I do, also, remember having many nightmares as a young child.
I see my nightmares as an outcome of much physical and emotional trauma of 4 major stomach operations from the age of 16 to 56. and, without wanting to be over dramatic, their legacy of fear of the future in terms of declining physical health and the ageing process.

So much deep surgery always has consequences later in life!

I don't think Helen has the same set of problems health-wise, if she has any at all. She is just highly imaginative and subconsiously creative, as she has implied from time to time.

This is a very interesting description of her nightmare. I don't know what an interpreter of dreams would make of it though.

A good story though, Helen.



f

sorry Phred - didn't mean to spook you - especially you being on the road an' all -

I'm in a kind of crow-space - I was watching purple crow just yesterday at the station, but yes, I guess it was a bit strange to get him to fly into the side of the museum -- dreams eh?

love the links you're sending from around and about - gonna check all those web sites - are you calling into Sedona when you're in Arizona? We want to go to Sedona, if we ever get back to the USA - even though its a bit kind of new age - like get your pet healed by a psychic snake medium etc

perhaps that's what I need for my crowspace - heal my inner crow -

we went to the Saguaro national park - incredible - and saw the Grand Canyon - made me go dizzy -

bye Bob Voyage

Helen

All my dreams are vivid and colorful. None are nightmares.

Last night I dreamed I was watching a group of consultants demonstrate how to quickly roll out an interconnected network of computers to a geographically disbursed enterprise...they were plugging in cables and rolling out offices every 30 seconds or so.

Toward the end of the dream an older woman consultant smelled my breath and asked me if I had been drinking. I told her I had bitten into a piece of rum cake and was quite taken aback by the accusation.

Dreams are fun...I like Helen's dream more than mine. Just random thrashing of a disconnected brain, I think.

hullo frontiersman -

hey! good to hear you back around and about!

yes, keep me away from the dream analysts! my best friend is a dream analyst and she says I represent the urban nightmare and there's no hope for me, but she loves me anyway -

this was one of my good dreams - you should hear my nightmares ...

hmmm

see you pal

Helen

That's an interesting dream Phred.

How about we swap brains for a day - mind you, that means I have to go diving and go on the road and it means that you have to listen to Japanese psychedelia.

On second thoughts, I think we're OK as we are - but I like your dream. Its more cool than mine. More subtle.

H

Helen,

I'm packing up now and getting ready to go on the road this Saturday. First visiting some friends in Arkansas and then heading over to Utah, Texas, Arizona and New Mexico for awhile.

I get the sense from some things you've written that you've spent some time on the road? Maybe a metaphysical road?

Remember "Easy Rider"? I'm ditching my watch when I leave the driveway at 4AM. Time should have no meaning anymore.

-Phred

Helen,

I don't know if you are familiar with the work of an American Philospher named Santayana... A3729558 ..But he had this to say about sanity and dreams.

Sanity is a madness put to good uses; waking life is a dream controlled. - Santayana

"Poetry is not to be spread on things like butter, but must shine on them like dew." -Santayana

I think you've got that down,

You are one very lucky man, Phred, if all your dreams are fun and games!

I envy you!


Ron

Pleasant dreams to you, Ron....I've joined you now as a member of the idle class. .

hullo Phred -

ha! Santayana! I remember now - when I was new to h2g2 and I first met you, you mentioned Santayana, and I was going to check him out -

so I shall, in the next day or two, in between bouts of Dream-fever -

Easy Rider! there's a movie to live for!

and who needs time indeed - you deserve the break from its digital confines -

see you Phred

Helen

I saw a huge shooting star in the Arizona sky this morning...a flashy firey trail...then I tried meditating again and tried focusing on Now!...no Now!...No Now! and realized I was mentally trapped within the confines of time...then I read this article again...

Ah! Right Phred...so you were 'trapped' in the 'arrow of time'.

'This now, is not this now, is not this now..ad infinitum...tum...tum! A-m-o-v-i-n-g-t-a-r-g-e-t-i-f-e-v-e-r-t-h-e-r-e-w-a-s-o-n-e-!'

Hope you enjoy your new found life as a man of leisure. You certainly appear to be so doing! The difference between us is, though, you are part of the idle rich and me of the idle poor!

I love to see shooting stars; especially those which traverse the entire clear black horizon laterally...spectacular!

Ah! I've found my 'offending' posting now Phred.

If you look back a couple of postings in this thread you'll see I've merely fed back to you your own remark of 'joining the idle class'

Ron

I wasn't offended. And, anyway, like always, I bring these things on myself.