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 Posted:   Oct 4, 2000 - 3:59 AM   
 By:   Thor   (Member)

Thor Norway Posted - 09/01/2000 : 08:02:16 AM

One of my (and H Rocco's) favourite threads over at the messageboard, was one called Weird Dreams, in which people recounted their off-beat, film music-related dreams. Since I find the topic of dreams very interesting, and since it was great fun, I thought I'd have a similar one here. Since the last time, I have had YET ANOTHER Goldsmith dream, which I will tell you about:

I remember only fragments of this dream, but this sequence started off as I found myself in a busy street that LOOKED very English, but that my unidentifiable traveling companions urged me to believe was L.A. As I've never been to the US, I thought this was great. Finally I could look up some great CD stores with good film score collections. At one point, though, my companions told me I was in New York, and consequently I felt eager to visit Footlight Records. I did. As I entered what - through the sign - seemed to be Footlight Records, I found myself in a small, narrow CD shop - like the one on the corner, not a big thing at all. All the shelves and tables were covered with MINIDISCS only - and to exorbitant Norwegian prices! Being slightly disappointed with this, I asked the clerk where all the CD's were.

- "Oh, those old thingies? We've got a few of them over there in the corner.", he said. In a dark corner was a small white shelf with a few CD's. Eagerly, I looked through them to see if I could find anything of interest. I didn't. One of my traveling companions approached me to tell me he had found Morricone's THE MISSION for a mere $20 in that CD shelf just now, but that was it. The disappointment continued. Then, the strangest thing happened. The whole CD shop was suddenly transformed into a chilly, square room with white, hospital-like walls. At the far end of the room, a big square hole was carved into the wall - like a "hot dog" sales desk or something. Through that hole, I glimpsed a vast, dark room - the sole light emerging as a turned-on TV set in the background. More peculiarly, though, Jerry Goldsmith was situated at the other side of "desk", handing out free, various-coloured T-shirts (that had nothing to do with film music) to a long line of fans. I don't know why. I positioned myself in the line. When it was my turn, I seized the opportunity to chat with the maestro:

- "So, how do you feel about this? It's not easy to be a celibrity, eh?", I asked.

- "No," was the terse reply. erry seemed a bit grumpy, yet smiling as though trying to maintain a certain sense of service attitude. His long hair curled down onto his forehead. He was sweaty, probably from all the stressful T-shirt work.

- "Do you think you would be so kind as to sign one of these T-shirts for me?" I continued.

- "No, no, no. Please move along, you're holding up the line here."

- "Please?" He shook his head once again, jammed an orange T-shirt into my hand and tapped me on the shoulder, as if to tell me that I had to move along. I eventually complied. The last thing I remember (there was more, but I've forgotten it) was an image of myself, standing in the middle of the white room with a lousy, orange T-shirt in my hand WITH NO AUTOGRAPH! I remember seeing Jerry as an arrogant snob. Now, someone please explain to me: Why do all of my film music dreams involve Goldsmith? Both Williams and Elfman are "higher up" on my favourite list, yet they never appear. Always Goldsmith. There must be something "mysterious" about him that fascinates me unconsciously....YOUR TURN!


Marian Schedenig

Posted - 09/01/2000 : 08:42:24 AM

Wow, I'm still laughing. Either I'm not dreaming often enough, or I just can't remember it.
I wonder if somebody will someday invent a device that records your dreams and plays
them for you later...

Thor, maybe your Goldsmith dreams are meant to tell you that the composer isn't placed
high enough on your list!

NP: West Side Story, Melodies (Leonard Bernstein)


P>Nash Bridges

Posted - 09/01/2000 : 11:49:42 AM

Well, it's not film music-related, but I certainly had a wierd dream last night. First starts
with my family and a group of others, floating downstream on a river on a large wooden
raft. IT's circa 1880s, and we're all wearing modern clothing. We stop a few miles down
and pull ashore, where we meet several other groups and start mingling with them. Then
some gold miners come up and force us off, claiming we're fortune hunters who are looking
to steal their gold. My family and I board the raft and leave, this time upstream, without

We come upon some rapids and a couple short waterfalls. But when we reach the final
one, we find out it's an amusement part ride with no track, and our raft sails through the
air as we come down. We disembark and head out the exit gate, we're I'm suddenly alone,
at night, and walking through the parking lot of the JCPenny's near where I used to live.

But the front wall, instead of having and entrance/exit door, has a series of cell doors, and
I can see prisoner's hanging their arms and heads out of the small windows. I think I
recognize one, so I walk over and look in. It's Scott Bacula from QUANTUM LEAP. So I
open the unlocked cell door and go in. "Scott," I say. "How you been?" "Hey, Mike," he
mumbles. I sit down on the bench across from him and ask why he's in jail, and he says
something about kicking his neighbor's window out or something. He's says he'll probably
be executed, and asks if I would like the first episode of WINGS, we he had special
ordered the other day and was being shipped as we speak. Before I can answer, the
prisoner warden comes with a card of scratch-and-sniff stickers and asks me if I can
identify some of the smells for him. I do so and say goodbye to Scott, who's being
drugged by the guard that came in with the warden, and leave the cell.

Talk about weird, hu?



Posted - 09/02/2000 : 06:39:44 AM

I had one not too long ago involving John Williams. I was at one of his concerts with my
family. After it was over I went backstage to meet him. I asked for his autograph. He was
a real asshole about it, and was generally rude to me. He then said he'd give me an
autograph if he could sleep with my Aunt! I woke up after that part. Is that weird or what?
I hope he's not a sicko like that in real life!



Posted - 09/02/2000 : 09:17:34 AM

I wouldn't worry about it, Wick. Your Aunt's not that hot.



Posted - 09/04/2000 : 03:36:09 AM

Nash and Wickenstein:

Oh, God. That was hilarious! Upon reading your posts, I laughed so loud here at the
university computer rooms that everyone turned towards me!

Keep it coming, guys. I love this stuff...



Posted - 09/04/2000 : 03:46:00 AM

Maybe its like a Freudian thing?




Posted - 09/04/2000 : 03:48:04 AM

I've had dreams involving me buying lots of film music on discount... I mean like super
rare titles (by Australian standards) for cheapppp. Oh yesss...



Nash Bridges

Posted - 09/05/2000 : 5:15:55 PM

Thor - Okay, here's another one for ya.

Last night (or, rather, early this morning, seeing as how it was just before I woke up), I
had this one involving Pumpkinhead. I was being imprisoned in this house with a female
friend I don't even know, and Pumpkinhead and some evil sorceress were keeping us
there. We tried continuously to escape, but it was no use. One or the other would keep
stopping us.

On one point in the dream, I suddenly became someone else on the outside of the house,
and found myself trying to rescue the girl and a guy (who had originally been me). I
sneaked around the house trying to find a way in, and almost got caught by Pumpkinhead
when he emerged from the front door of the house riding this huge Bantha-like creature.
He rode it around the house, like patroling the perimeter, and I had to duck behind some
garbage cans to avoid capture. Then he returned inside, and the door shut behind him.

Suddenly, I find an old car with busted windows about a half-mile away and get in it to go
find help. Along the way, I glance into the rearview mirror, and Danny Trejo from FROM
DUSK 'TIL DAWN is sitting in the backseat, obviously some hoodlum waiting to take me
out with a crowbow the first chance I get.

And that's when I wake up and think to myself, "WHAT THE HELL?" (As I often say after I
have a dream).

I'm got many more weird ones I could tell, but just about all of them are unscore-related.


Marian Schedenig

Posted - 09/05/2000 : 6:10:05 PM


I'm got many more weird ones I could tell, but just about all of them are unscore-related.

As if off-topic topics ever stopped us. Go ahead!

NP: Powaqqatsi (Philip Glass)



Posted - 09/06/2000 : 05:48:09 AM

That's another good one, Nash. Your dreams seem to be more "coherent", though, as if
staying with the "story line" most of the time.


Marian Schedenig

Posted - 09/12/2000 : 08:35:59 AM

Something about half-rotten spiders...



Posted - 09/13/2000 : 07:24:21 AM

just the other night i had a prescient-feeling dream that i read in the newspaper
obituaries that lalo schifrin (i Think it was him) had just died, which is odd cuz not only
am i only slightly familiar with his work, for all I know he Actually died Years ago (oh
wait, he just scored Tango a year or two ago, as i just got done citing in the
"partook/hump" thread. so, if he Did die, it would've been recent. so maybe it wasn't a
dream; maybe it was a half-remembered daze )
in the past i've also enjoyed tantalizing dreams of finding long-sought, super-rare items,
including, i'm sure, soundtracks, but it's been a while so i don't remember specifics. in
addition, i was asleep at the time
np: gary wright, "dream weaver"

 Posted:   Nov 12, 2000 - 4:50 AM   
 By:   Marian Schedenig   (Member)

After a long time, I finally had a series of strange dreams again for the last few nights. I've forgotten most of it, but one point included my cat Jerry watching TV. There was some movie on, and some evil guy did this typical "evil laughter" (muahahahahahaha....). When it was over, Jerry imitated that laughter, like a parrot. He did it really well, just a bit higher than the original.

But just before, he really put his tongue out at me. And that was no dream!">

NP: Anton Bruckner: Symphony #2 (National Symphony Orchestra of Ireland, Georg Tintner)

 Posted:   Nov 12, 2000 - 5:10 AM   
 By:   André Lux   (Member)

The other day I had a strange dream:

I was on a cold and dark forest.
Sudenly a Troll apeared and start to sing some ridiculous Danny Elfman tunes.
It was such a ludicrous scene that I start to chuckle.
Then the ugly troll became so nervous that he exploded!">

The end.

 Posted:   Dec 7, 2000 - 8:29 AM   
 By:   Thor   (Member)

Two nights ago, I finally had my first dream starring John Williams, at least the first I am capable of remembering. Although it is planted in my short term memory now, I am only able to remember fragments of the REM involving Williams.

I was back in my high school days again, 10 years ago (as was also the case with the Goldsmith dream - see above) and I was home with my family.

In our TV livingroom on the second floor: Mom, dad, my 18 year old sister and 12 year old brother (they were the current age although *I* was back in my high school days - go figure). We were all sitting in the bended brown sofa, relaxing with cups of coffee and biscuits.

As a guest-of-honour, John Williams was situated in the corner of the sofa, speaking fluently Norwegian, of course. It was like having grandpa over.

I remember sitting perfectly still, afraid to engage in conversation with the maestro (I've always disliked that indelible ass-kissing that journalists pour over celebrities in interviews, and wanted to avoid that at all costs). My father spoke enthusiastically, though, telling him how big a fan I was and how large my collection was. The latter part concerned me - I was convinced that if Williams caught a glimpse of my collection in my room with all the bootlegs, he would turn red in a fit of rage and yell at me. That didn't happen, though, as far as I remember.

My father, still enthusiastic, continued to praise Williams for the wonderful statuette that he had sculptured (sic) - the statuette which the contestants of the TV show SURVIVOR gets when they have won a trial of sorts and are "immune" in the next "council" (the ones who have seen the not-so-great show know what I'm talking about). My father URGED Williams to take with him this statuette the next time they were in the freemason's lodge (of which my father, and now also obviously Williams, is a member).

That's all I can remember, but it's pretty weird, I think.

 Posted:   Dec 7, 2000 - 9:30 AM   
 By:   Marian Schedenig   (Member)


NP: Ultimate Edition (John Williams) - The stupid dialoge track">

 Posted:   Jan 4, 2001 - 11:12 PM   
 By:   Thor   (Member)

I just realized that one of my earlier posts referred you to see ABOVE for a recap of my first wacky Goldsmith dream. That is not entirely correct, as I posted that dream in the first "Weird Dreams" thread over at awhile back. In any case, here is what I wrote back then:

"I also remember a dream, in which I was back in my high school days, practising with the local teen choir. Then suddenly, out of nowhere came Jerry Goldsmith and started conducting. His facial expression was kind of wild, and as he eventually stepped up on the scene, he started lashing out atonal harmonies on the keyboard, while simultaneously banging his ponytailed hair and waving his arms ferociously. Sort of a maniac version of Jean Michel Jarre.

Later I found out that he had locked his wife into a closet on the first floor, and as the poor woman was helped out, she stuttered:

- "Oh, that's ok. He does that all the time!"

Weird indeed."

The reason for ressurecting this thread, though, is because I have had no less than TWO consecutive dreams in which I remember flashes of Danny Elfman. Finally. First, Goldsmith, then Williams and now Elfman. I can now sleep at night...!

The first dream starts in some european city (Prague or Paris, don't remember). As a tourist, I'm trodding about aimlessly. Suddenly I find myself on the town square. It's only me and a handful of other people. The entire square is sealed off and there are literally hundreds of people standing outside the perimeters, pushing the fences. I am one of the lucky few of something, obviously. Soon I see Elfman standing in the middle of the little crowd in front of me. I join them. Elfman is dressed in a dark training suit with a marathon number attached to his chest. Suddenly all the members of the little crowd wears one too. With a sudden burst, Elfman takes off and runs like hell down the street with the 12somewhat-membered crowd (the disiples?) in pursuit, me included. I remember running as fast as I possibly could, yet it was very hard to keep up with Danny. Suddenly we all enter a small record store. Elfman, sweating like a madman, is hurrying through the aisles, picking up soundtracks and CD's faster than a predator. I am very keen on looking through the CD shelves myself (noticing a surprisingly good score selection), but there is no time. As soon as he has arrived, Elfman is out the door again, with the crowd on his heels. The last thing I remember was myself running across a lawn trying to catch up, but futile. Elfman & the crowd turn the corner and are gone....

The first flash from my second, more recent dream sees myself lying flat on the stomach on the back of a dirty old lorry, all dressed in army outfit and with my rifle digging its way into my hip (I'm back in the military service again, obviously). There are at least 4 or 5 other military guys lying around me, all with their helmet-covered heads down so as not be seen above the lorry "fence" (you know what I mean?). There are distant sounds of bombs falling.

The guy next to me lifts his head. It's Danny Elfman, his redlit hair curling its way out of the helmet.

- "Hi! You're Danny Elfman, right?" I say

- "Yes?"

- "Wow, I just love your work!"

- "You do? What part?"

- "The film scores. Boingo. Everything".

- "Really? Why, thank you. What's your name?"

At that moment, a giant fireball swishes by, and we throw our heads down.

The second flash sees myself running around in a weird, pipe-structured airport. I enter one door and come out at the complete opposite of the terminal, and have to go all around the airport to start over. I am chasing Elfman again, a sort of continuation of the first dream, perhaps. Elfman, just ahead of me, enters a door, yet when I follow him through, he vanishes. This continues in a nightmarish fashion.

Weird? You tell me...

 Posted:   Jan 5, 2001 - 12:13 AM   
 By:   Marian Schedenig   (Member)

Weird indeed!

A thought just occured to me. We all usually dream of ourselves from an "outer view", i.e. we actually SEE ourselves in the dreams, or at least that's how we remember them.

But how did people dream some thousand years ago, when they didn't have mirrors? Sure, some of them might have seen their reflection in a lake or something, but I guess there must have been many people who never saw themselves in their whole life. How did THEY dream?">

NP: Logan's Run (Jerry Goldsmith)

 Posted:   Jan 7, 2001 - 3:47 AM   
 By:   Thor   (Member)

Interesting question.

I must admit that I only rarely see myself from the outside in dreams. Most of the time, it's regular subjective perception. At the most dramatic moments, though, I move "outside" myself, as if the subjective POV is too tense and demanding for the brain to withhold.

I have no idea how our prehistoric forefathers dreamt. However, Some dream theories claim that the experience of our surroundings in dreams is subconscious/surplus information gathered when we're awake. In other words, what we see around us when we're awake is plagued with "noise" from our senses - smells, sounds, feelable surfaces. In a dream state, these senses no longer operate normally. Our experience is "purified", so to speak. Our mental experience of the outside world, watered out by the senses when we're awake, moves up to the surface when we're dreaming. The uber-ego shows its face, to use freudian terms. That is why we get such "twisted" views on familiar places in dreams - our home, the school, the city...all these things may seem narrower, wider, combined with other familiar places etc. The same goes for people, of course. They are "purified" mental versions of the three-dimensional versions we meet during the day.

This is complex theory which is hard to formulate pedagogically. But my guess is that our prehistoric forefathers had an even more abstract, mental picture of themselves than we do. In dreams, these perceptions of themselves would have to be limited to a stricter, subjective POV. Hard to speculate, indeed.

NP when I wrote this post: IN DREAMS (Goldenthal - seriously!!)

 Posted:   Feb 1, 2001 - 7:19 AM   
 By:   Thor   (Member)

Just in last night (this is becoming the equivalent of the "What's New In Your Collection"-threads, just with dreams and myself as almost the only respondent):

After an exhausting day at the university, I found myself returning to my apartment in downtown Oslo. As soon as I entered the door, I heard chattering. On my way to the kitchen, I peeked into the bathroom to find the washing machine running full steam. Someone had stacked their clothes in neat heaps on the floor, divided by colour. On top of the shakey machine were several huge LEGO blocks that were organized into a pattern resembling the clothes on the floor.

I opened the door to the kitchen.

Sitting at the table were Chris Kinsinger, Howard L, Dutch and Joan Hue (all part of the older membership of this forum). The table was set with dozens of peanut butter jars in a multitude of different colours.

CHRIS: "Hey Thor! Hope you don't mind. We got the janitor to lock us in coz we ain't got no place to stay tonight"

ME: "No, not at all."

HOWARD: "It's a most peculiar thing."

ME: "Say, who is cleaning their clothes in there right now?"

DUTCH: "That would be me. That's how we do it in America".

I remember myself offering a tour of Oslo and Joan Hue somehow turning into a 20 year-old Norwegian girl. And that's about it.

 Posted:   Feb 1, 2001 - 8:54 AM   
 By:   Marian Schedenig   (Member)

Err...I don't have to remind you that Joan is our message board mommy, have I?">

A couple of days ago, I dreamt that it was Christmas and I got a couple of great scores I've always wanted, but after waking up, I had no idea what scores that could have been.

NP: Moby Dick (Christopher Gordon)

 Posted:   Jan 31, 2001 - 11:28 PM   
 By:   André Lux   (Member)

Is this one of those relevant and useful threads that uncle Troll is always preaching about...">

Some people should really think twice before start to throw stones on other people's windows...">

 Posted:   Feb 1, 2001 - 12:25 AM   
 By:   Marian Schedenig   (Member)

It's a great thread. Some people should really think twice before start to throw stones on other people's windows.

NP: Erich Wolfgang Korngold: Captain Blood Suite (Brandenburg Philharmonic Orchestra, Potsdam; Richard Kaufman)

 Posted:   Feb 2, 2001 - 4:44 AM   
 By:   André Lux   (Member)

Sorry, but if this thread is great or not is not the point, good Marian.

The point is: is it a USEFUL thread? Is it RELEVANT to the apreciation of film music?

Obviously not.

Do I care? Of course not.
Let Torh have his own fun, creating self-promoting topics. It's kind of cute!">

THE POINT IS, for someone who is always jumping into other people's threads and preaching about what they should or shouldn't post on a message board, this ludicrous thread go exactly against all his snob and intolerant rhetoric.

But we all know that Thor always loved to make a fool of himself...">

Now please, continue...

 Posted:   Feb 2, 2001 - 5:44 AM   
 By:   Marian Schedenig   (Member)


 Posted:   Feb 2, 2001 - 5:51 AM   
 By:   André Lux   (Member)

I am glad you finally agreed with me, Marian!">

 Posted:   Feb 2, 2001 - 6:57 AM   
 By:   Thor   (Member)

***Err...I don't have to remind you that Joan is our message board mommy, have I?***

Of course not! That's why I said that the 4 "guests" were part of the older membership. And that's also why I found it peculiar that she suddenly turned into a Norwegian, 20-year-old girl.

 Posted:   Feb 2, 2001 - 7:23 AM   
 By:   Marian Schedenig   (Member)

And that's why I're not going to mess around with my mommy!

NP: Engulfed Cathedral (Claude Debussy)

 Posted:   Mar 6, 2001 - 10:47 AM   
 By:   Marian Schedenig   (Member)

A couple of days ago, I dreamt I had AIDS. I think I even had TWO dreams about it in ONE night. Waking up was a pleasant surprise.">

NP: Koyaanisqatsi (Philip Glass)

 Posted:   Mar 6, 2001 - 2:11 AM   
 By:   H. Rocco   (Member)

I have been having continuous dreams about my father of late, probably because he died one year ago last week. Strange thing about them is, he's always alive in them -- it never occurs to me "oh, he's dead." And frankly I'm never that glad to see him, because he's always sniping at me. In one of these, it was my MOTHER who was dead, not my father, and I was desolate. At the end of it, though -- and this is interesting -- a whole host of Board members, entirely ones I've never met face-to-face, walk down 9th Street with me to go to the post office. An omen, perhaps, of all those packages I've recently promised but have yet to send out.

A couple of weeks ago, there was one in which roomie was dead, and I can't tell you how relieved I was to wake up from that one. I had to resist the impulse to go to his room and check and see if he WAS alive, in case it was a premonition (he told me later that if he'd known, he'd have faked an extremely gory death, JUST for me, what a card. But it didn't seem fair to go wake him up just because I had a damn dream. I rag on him frequently in these Boards, which he doesn't read for the most part, but he IS my best friend -- my brother, really, or as close as I'm ever going to get to one -- and irreplaceable writing partner.)

Anyway, in the rest of the dream, it becomes my job to find out who killed him (this part alarmed him when I told him about it, but nobody's out to get him as far as I know, except for me if he ever plays The Cure in my presence again). Suddenly I have a new sidekick in Jay, the long-haired stoner character from CLERKS, DOGMA etc. We go into the woods, and there they all are, a host of murderers who are all controlled by the same mind-bank, if that's the word I want. One of them gets too close to me, turns into a cartoon cut-out of himself, and I stab him in the eye. This seems to be referential of one of my more dormant recent scripts, THE UNPEOPLE.

Lost friends are all over my dreams lately. Just last night, there was one about a former coworker, taking place in my strangely fantastical version of Los Angeles (where this person has never been). We didn't work it out, but then I met a very cute girl of whom I thought "THIS would be a lovely lady to hook up with," but we didn't. (Roomie turns up briefly in that one too, trying to get me a job at Pizza Hut.)

On a lighter note, here's one from a couple of years ago: I'm walking up Madison Avenue in Manhattan (traffic runs southbound), and I decide "This would be a lot more interesting if Godzilla were here." Presto, he appears on the landscape. Cool. Then I think, "it would be even better if he crashed through the skyscraper adjacent and stalked down the avenue." Presto again, he does. All kinds of other monsters start materializing, and everyone around me is running around and screaming, not understanding that the whole thing is an illusion. Roomie (pre-roomie days) appears with a Japanese girl who is probably his girlfriend, but I can't tell for sure because she doesn't speak English. Anyway, the three of us are the only ones who understand it's all an illusion, no destruction is actually happening. (Roomie believes this whole dream is about my desire to make movies. I'd tend to agree.)

After that I lose track of them and get drafted into a Brooklyn street gang run by someone played by Nick Nolte, and the hazing rituals involve jumping from one top of a subway car to another (not in tunnels, but from elevated tracks.)

There's an even better one from four or five years ago that took me TWO HOURS to handwrite in full, but I don't have the text at hand. I'll never forget or forgive, however, Quentin Tarantino forbidding me to sit on the white leather couch (and there was TONS of room on it, damn him!)

And then there's my favorite STAR WARS dream from when I was ten ... Darth Vader controlling the moon, a bizarre circus in Prospect Park, and a housecat the size of a bear ...">

 Posted:   Mar 6, 2001 - 2:48 AM   
 By:   Brutus   (Member)

This is a dream i dreamed several times during my childhood and it was allways exactly the same experience: I was floating throug a huge hall, reminding me (today) at the interior of the Guild-Ship in Dune, and i was heading to the farest corner of it. Then my wiew zoomed into the corner and there was a faucet which seemed huge because during the zoom, i felt like shrinking almost to nothing. Out of the faucet came a thin line of sand which was kind of trembling.During i came closer and closer, i knew i had to steady this tremble with my will only.
I attempted this only for seconds, which allways drove me mad and shortly before i hit the sand i woke up...

I know, there's no relation to scores...
but - does anybody know a good shrink for me?

[This message has been edited by BRUTUS (edited 07 March 2001).]

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