Category: Dreams
Call me a geek, but I can’t wait to get married so I can set up a digital home.
Some people have a dream home. I have a dream digital home.
Most of these technologies are available today, though it will take some installation effort. Thankfully, lots of electronics manufacturers are racing to secure the digital home. I just hope they’ll be ready in a year or so, when we’re ready to buy a house.
If any of them need any more ideas, or are reading this, let me tell you what my dream digital home would look like, ignoring cost & feasibility factors for now:
It would start with a secure wifi network in every room. The family’s electronic devices would be able to communicate with each other. I know wifi security isn’t the greatest, but in this ideal scenario, it would be air tight, or at least damn good. A fallback wired network could also be set up for critical devices.
The obvious electronics would be connected, such as televisions, laptops, and mobile devices (smart phones, digital tablets, ebook readers, etc). Also, their data would be shared across all of the devices. An ebook I download could be read on any phone or tablet. A movie I purchase could be streamed & played on any television or laptop.
In the sound-proofed and sound-controlled basement would be the main family entertainment system. Full surround sound, a large flat-panel digital television, and comfortable couches with cup holders. (And perhaps a fully-stocked bar and pool table in the back.) Whatever is playing on this television could also be viewed on any other television in the house, regardless of its source: DVD, broadcast, cable, satellite, online, whatever.
Obviously, this means there would be a centralized media center. This hub is where music and movies would be funneled in from a variety of sources. Attached to the hub would be an array of hard drives, and perhaps a CD/DVD player. Additionally, this system could go online to stream a movie (Netflix, Hulu, etc) or song (Pandora, Last.fm, etc). It’s conceivable we wouldn’t need all of that hardware anymore too, when storing our media in the Internet cloud is good enough for HD displays.
Just as videos could be played on any device with a video player, music could be played on any device with speakers. This includes the embedded speaker system throughout the house. For outdoor BBQs, just the outdoor speakers would play. For dinner parties, select indoor speakers would play.
All of this would be controlled through a central control interface. This system could be accessed on any device: smart phone, laptop, or even one of the various embedded touch-screen control panels throughout the house. By tapping a few buttons, anyone in the house could control which media types are being played where.
We could also control the lights and security systems. There would be a “vacation mode” where certain lights are activated at certain times and alarms are engaged at an appropriate sensitivity. If any alarm were triggered, the law enforcement, the security company, and I would all be alerted. And perhaps even nearby friends and family.
In select rooms, there would also be flat-panel touch-screen displays that serve as control interfaces, as well as displays of our family information management software. Our entire family’s schedule could be pulled up on a shared family calendar. Events could be added, modified, or removed. If scheduling conflicts arise, those with a schedule impact will be alerted on their mobile devices.
If a family member needed to contact a relative, this software could also display a shared family address book. With a touch of a button, your phone would automatically activate and call the selected relative. If your hands are chopping vegetables, the phone call could be routed through the speaker system as a hands-free alternative. This would require either microphones around the house, or the use of your mobile phone as the microphone.
Shared family photos could also be displayed, turning the touch-screen displays into digital picture frames. This could be configured to appear when these displays are not in use. All of the displays could be synced up to display the same photos, or specific albums per display. Baby pictures in the parents’ bedroom, family photos in the kitchen, personal pictures in the children’s rooms, for instance.
All of this obviously requires greater security than just an alarm system. In this ideal world, each of the touch-screens could only be activated using biometric security as some laptops currently feature. This would require all devices that can access sensitive family information to have this security. Smart phones and tablet devices aren’t quite there yet, but in this scenario, let’s say they are.
Backup power would be paramount for such an integrated system. An array of rechargeable batteries would be stored somewhere, perhaps in the basement, to give the house a few hours of juice should the power grid go down.
And, of course, most, if not all of the power energizing the entire house would come from an array of solar panels. The house would be as efficient and environmentally-friendly as possible. If excess energy is created, we could even resupply the power grid. This is how the rechargeable batteries would get recharged as well.
One last thing. Portable video cameras could be placed throughout the house. I’m not thinking of anything kinky (though if my fiancée wants to, hey now…); I’m thinking about baby monitors for when we have children. These video cameras would display a live video feed on any device. We could even record the video if we wanted to. I imagine our children, when they grow up, may want to take family videos too. Or heck, as a proud father, I think I would. These need not be specialized video cameras either; an iPhone, Flip Video, or similar device would all be synced with the centralized media center too.
Some people take this concept a step further and say their appliances should be connected. For example, a refrigerator could alert the family when the milk is getting low or going bad. A washing machine could alert the family when a red sock is mixed with white clothes. I personally don’t need this just yet, but hey, I wouldn’t complain if I had it. And after seeing a few once-white-now-pink shirts, perhaps my fiancée wouldn’t mind it either.
Go ahead. You can say it. “Mike, you’re a geek.” But it’s a damn awesome vision, isn’t it? Oh boy I can’t wait!
Almost everyone on the planet was dead. Civilization as we know it was reduced to a cross between the Wild West and Mad Max: nearly deserted towns littered the dusty earth with the remnants of buildings and machines.
I walked into town and peered at the buildings around me. Most were nothing more than wooden shacks clinging onto their last nails. A few people wandered to and fro. None gave me much regard. They seemed occupied with either sorrow or apathy. It was a sad, sad sight.
My feet kicked up clouds of dirt. The others avoided walking on the earth directly. I was suddenly aware that I was vulnerable and hurried to a wooden porch.
Below this layer of earth was another world. If you were able to take a cross-section of the earth, you would see a layer of what appeared to be shark cages right below the surface. At the top of the cages was the ground on which I stood. For some reason, the dirt didn’t sink into the cages. That was simply how the physics of this world worked.
Below the shark cages was an ocean of green slime. Within the cages existed gremlins with incredible strength and an insatiable appetite for human flesh.
When they were hungry, these gremlins would open the top of a cage, reach up through the earth, and drag a human down. Then they would open the bottom of the cage and drown the human in the slime. Once drowned, the gremlins would feast.
No one ever survived a gremlin attack. Their strength far surpassed any person. Once they had you, you were dead.
To avoid this fate, you simply had to avoid direct contact with the earth. Paved roads didn’t exist in this world, but buildings with cement foundations were safe. And with that realization, I entered into the nearest building.
Something within me knew there were more survivors out there that needed help. They didn’t have the luxury of being in a town like this and were susceptible to gremlin attacks. So I began to rally every person I saw.
“We can help these people!” I cried. “If you’re willing to help me make a difference, meet me in the old school building in two hours.”
I ran from building to building with this cry for help. Most shook their heads and turned away. A few apprehensively agreed.
Two hours later, I had four others with me: Genghis, Sandy, Todd, and Matt. We agreed on a plan to find a car and drive out beyond town. If we found any survivors, we’d take them back with us.
We found a car in a nearby garage. It was an old convertible. I jumped into the driver’s seat and Genghis sat shotgun. The rest piled into the back.
I drove out of town and followed an old dirt trail. A short, steep hill ran alongside to our left. Fields of grass ran to our right. We drove for several hours but weren’t able to find any other towns or survivors. The entire landscape seemed devoid of human life.
Sometime later, we found a large iron gate within the wall-like hill. The road forked and a branch turned into the gate. Beyond this gate, we saw the remains of a vehicle junkyard. Some of the cars had fallen into the shark cage world and parts of the vehicles stuck brazenly out from the earth.
“Do you want to try looking in here?” I asked. The others shrugged and nodded. Cautiously, we pushed open the iron gate with the car and entered.
We all kept our eyes on alert, looking for any signs of life. But we saw nothing except the rotting carcasses of old, rusted vehicles.
As I was driving, Sandy, Todd, and Matt began laughing and playing around in the backseat. What started off as innocent joking became rambunctious and dangerous when they all stood up and sat on the body of the car.
“Stay in your seats!” I shouted. “You’ll fall off if you sit up there.”
As if it was on cue, Matt suddenly fell off. I didn’t immediately notice and kept driving as he dropped onto the earth. Some feet away, I finally noticed and stopped the car.
“Matt, get back in here!” I screamed. “Don’t stay on the earth for too long!”
Again, as if on a second cue, we all saw a gremlin slowly crawl out of the ground and onto our world. The gremlin was several feet away from Matt and hadn’t noticed him yet. However, it was only a matter of seconds before he’d see Matt and alert the other gremlins below.
Matt got up slowly and shook his head. He was disoriented from the fall. I quickly turned the car around and raced back for him.
Unfortunately, I was too late.
As my car pulled up next to Matt, he disappeared below the earth. Tiny green arms dragged him down. The earth remained open and we could see the cages and slime below. Matt’s face was twisted in terror at what was about to happen to him.
I leapt out of the car and stared down the hole. I knew I was no match for the gremlins, so there wasn’t much I could do. They pushed Matt into the slime and began to drown him. His screams became bubbles in the slime.
“I should get back in the car,” I told myself. The gremlins hadn’t yet put their hands on me, so I still had a chance.
But something within me wouldn’t give up. I was suddenly filled with resolve. “I can’t let Matt die,” I declared. “I’ve got to be stronger than these gremlins.”
And just like that, I had the strength.
I jumped into the cage world. The gremlins immediately grabbed me. I tore them off like toys and flung them away. Then I grabbed Matt and pulled him out. He coughed out slime and was still alive.
Off in a distance, more gremlins scrambled towards us. I threw Matt back onto the surface. Then I climbed up after him. At that moment, dozens of gremlin arms grabbed me and pulled me back.
I summoned more strength and smacked them aside. Again I climbed, kicking gremlins along the way. Wave after wave of gremlins rushed me. I kicked them all back. I had one hand on the surface when a sudden ear-piercing, electronic ring deafened me.
And just like that, I woke up.
I blinked a few times and looked at the clock. It was time to get up and go to work. I shook my head, hit the Snooze, and tried to return to my dream. But alas, that Wild West/Mad Max/gremlins & slime in cages world was gone now. I couldn’t bring it back and find out if I got away from the gremlins.
Maybe someday, I’ll find myself back in that world. And maybe someday, I’ll be able to find more survivors. And maybe Genghis, Sandy, Todd, and Matt, who are all coworkers of mine in real life, will stay in the damn car next time.
. . .
What was your last dream about?
My mind wanders as I’m trying to sleep. Those last few waking moments scurry from thought to thought. Sleep is right at my doorstep, but before I can open the door, I have to watch a Mind Movie first.
Here’s a typical Mind Movie:
I’m in a crowded train station. It’s rush hour. Passengers are rushing around like ants with a purpose. My train will arrive in twenty minutes, so I have some time to kill.
I’m browsing through a magazine when I suddenly hear screams of agony. I drop the magazine and turn around.
Katana-wielding ninjas clad in black are rushing through the station doors. They’re slicing up commuters like a Ginsu knife on tomatos. Blood and body parts are flying everywhere.
The station police are desperately trying to protect the people. They rush up to the ninjas with their pistols drawn. The ninjas flick their swords and chop off their hands.
Not all of the cops are taken so easily. Some maintain their range and pick off the ninjas like carnival ducks. But there are too many ninjas, not enough cops, and too many innocent civilians caught in the crossfire.
Some of the ninjas grab beautiful girls from the crowd, probably for slave-trading purposes. They expertly bind their hands and tie them to a central column.
One ninja brushes by me and digs his sword into a commuter’s heart. While his weapon is immobile, I grab his neck and twist it. It cracks. I pull out the katana and rush into the fray.
I’m an expert at this. I’m Bruce Lee, Jet Li, and Jackie Chan all rolled into one. I kick ass and take no names.
I leap over commuters, clash swords, and kick the garbage cans at the ninjas, which distracts them long enough for me to lunge my weapon into their chests. I bounce off a wall, do a back flip, and lop off a ninja’s hand. As his body falls over, I grad his sword. Now I have two of them.
The remaining cops come to my side and, encouraged by my swordplay, advance on the ninjas. The ninjas are getting nervous now; they’re getting sloppy. I mow down the ninjas like a fresh afternoon lawn.
Several ninjas guard their beautiful captives. I rush at them and before they know it, have cut off all their heads. The chains they used to bind the girls pose no resistance to my katanas.
I tell the cops to check on the fallen commuters and pull those still alive to the sides of the station. As they check the wounded, I push back the tide of ninjas.
Then the ninjas fall silent and look behind them. I stop and look as well. A hulking, masked ninja with a large double-sided staff walks calmly into the station. He must be their leader.
The remaining ninjas, more out of fear of their leader than their desire to beat me, attack me once again. Their renewed energy staggers me back for an instant. But I hold my ground and chop all their heads off.
Their leader scoffs. He doesn’t say a word; he just stands there, watching and studying my moves.
After his last ninja has fallen, I turn to face him.
He readies his staff and strikes a menacing stance. I fall into a formidable stance to counter.
We fight. We’re nearly an even match. He skillfully defends my lunges and thrusts, and I his. All around us, the beautiful girls, the cops, the wounded, and the remaining commuters watch in silence.
The leader almost disarms me. I fall back and try to catch my breath. He sees the opening and stabs me in the stomach. I wretch in pain and the crowd gasps. The leader laughs.
This just makes me angry and more resolved. I ready myself again and invite him to attack with a luring finger. The leader takes the bait and lunges at me. I parry and use his momentum against him.
His back is exposed to me for a few precious seconds. I use it and slash his back. He falls forward and I stab his knee, popping his kneecap. He roars in pain and swings his staff at me, slicing my face.
We both take a moment to compose ourselves. I can see the rage in his eyes. I smile.
He rushes at me one last time. His rage makes him sloppy. I bury one katana in his neck, the other in his gut.
The leader falls over silently. A hush falls over the station. Then the crowd bursts into cheers.
Right around this time, sleep begins to take my mind. The Mind Movie ends and the credits roll. My consciousness slips away and I fall asleep, tired after all that ninja fighting. Maybe tomorrow I’ll fight more ninjas. Maybe tomorrow, it’ll be in a department store.
. . .
Do you watch Mind Movies too?
I was on 14th Street in Manhattan, New York, with a group of friends. It was snowing out. Gentle flakes fluttered downward, muffling the sound of traffic. I could feel the soft squish squish of the fresh snow beneath my feet.
It was December. We had just finished buying loads of toys for homeless children. With an overflowing bag in each hand, we squished squished our way down 14th Street.
A friend and I decided to stop into a Starbucks for an injection of warm coffee. The rest continued down the street.
After our coffees, we came out and saw the others one block down the street. They were bustling into a taxi. A neon-yellow toy almost popped out of one of the bags as a friend kneaded into the packed cab.
I turned to my friend. “Let’s take the subway there.”
My friend’s eyes lit up. “Yea! Let’s show Manhattan that we’re out Christmas shopping. Let’s spread some Holiday Spirit!”
Smiling, we squished squished our way to the Union Square station.
I could almost see the fade out; like a movie, as the dream came to a close. I woke up and sat in bed for a few minutes, trying to recollect the oddly cheerful dream. For those first few minutes, I couldn’t tell if the dream was a real memory or an actual dream.
It was seven in the morning. I almost never wake up that early. But this time I couldn’t fall back asleep. The odd dream imbued me with a strange sense of Holiday Spirit.
Smiling, I put on “New York State of Mind” by Billy Joel as I got ready for work.
. . .
Are you feeling the holiday spirit?
I used to have a lot of nightmares. Fortunately, they’ve stopped. Here was one of them.
I was at the foot of the stairs. Looking above, I saw the light to my bedroom glowing in the hallway.
“That’s not right,” I told myself. “The light should be shut off.” I walked up the stairs and into my room.
The walls were dripping with blood. Thick, dark, and crimson. Various evil images were drawn in blood on the walls. I recognized them. They were pictures that I had once drawn: twisted corpses and skinless skulls. My very own creations were etched into my domain.
What happened in here? What drew these pictures on the walls? And what turned the light on?
I shut the light and ran down the stairs. Fear was forcing gulps through my heart. As I descended the stairs, the fear lessened.
Once I reached the ground floor, I looked back up. My bedroom light was glowing again. Something had turned the light back on. The light taunted me, daring me to shut it off again.
And I had to. I was compelled to shut it off. A gut feeling told me that the light attracted the evil that drew those images. So back up the stairs I ran.
The room was still in its bloodied state. My glance was fleeting; my instinct told me that if I stared at the drawings too long, the evil would be drawn into this world.
I flipped the switch and bounded down the stairs. For a split second, I could almost feel an entity at the surface of its world gazing at me as I left the room. It was full of evil and malevolence.
Once at the bottom of the stairs, I looked back up to confirm my task. This time, I saw the light to my parent’s bedroom, across the hall, glowing bright.
Did the evil enter this world? Was I too slow in shutting the light off? I sensed that the entity was not here. But that realization was of dubious comfort. A steady drumbeat was building in my heart. Fear was taking hold, but I knew that I had to keep that light off or else the entity would break through.
For a third time, I climbed the stairs. I reached my parent’s bedroom and peered inside.
The walls were clean.
No trace of blood anywhere. I wondered why. Then I shut the light and descended again.
One final look upstairs showed that no further lights came back on.
Then I woke up.
. . .
What was your last nightmare?
