30 June, 2006
(0 ) 20:35 I had a dream just now. It was one of those dreams that have a kind of background story to it, except that I’ve never explicitly dreamed the background story; I was simply aware of it.
At first I didn’t know what “angelproof” meant. I thought he envisioned angels as bad spirits who would come tearing at his father’s astronaut helmet, trying to pry it off and expose the man inside to the deathly vacuum of space, and wanted to build a spaceship that was “angelproof” so that these bad spirits would not get to his father. After thinking about it for awhile, I realised that what the little boy meant by “angelproof” was less sinister. He wanted a spaceship where God’s angels would not come down from heaven to take the soul of his father away. He wanted to build a ship whose forcefields were impermeable to death.
When you come to think of it, it’s such a selfish thought. If God’s angels didn’t come to take the soul of his father away, he would have lived in isolation for the rest of his natural life on an alient planet, only able to tell time by the uncertain rotation of the asteroid. He wouldn’t have anything to eat, to breathe or to drink; he’d be a walking corpse, a ghost with a heartbeat. He’d slowly grow crazy, claustrophobic in the close confines of his suit, yet agoraphobic at the vast expanse of dull, lifeless rock. But aren’t humans selfish beings greedy for life? Life is just an act of self-preservation. We exist merely to propagate our species, to ensure that there will be more of us to act out this meaningless play. After all…
“The living knew themselves just sentient puppets on God’s stage.” - T.E. Lawrence.
Due to a system error, an astronaut on a spacewalk got himself stranded in space without any way back to the mothership. The flight had something to do with the exploration of an asteroid to see if it would be useful to humankind, i.e. if it had any resources we could mine for use in our industries. So he was left to contemplate death as the air in his spacesuit slowly ran out, alone a million miles from home, under alien stars.After the dream I semi-woke up, and I had a lump in my throat because I was thinking about the little boy who lost his father. Yes, it was a little boy, of about 9 years old, who drew that picture and wrote that sentence. I don’t know why he drew it, nor do I know why the woman was going to build the spaceship he drew, but I do know he loved his father very much and wanted to become an astronaut just like him when he grew up.
In my dream, a woman from the spaceship crew had come to pay a visit the dead astronaut’s wife. The wife handed over a piece of paper to the woman, which was a coloured pencil drawing of a spaceship, accompanied by a sentence written in a child’s hand which read, “Angelproof the spaceship for me.”
The wife asked the woman, “Do you think it’s possible to build this?”
The woman looked uncomfortable and took some time to scrutinise the piece of paper before replying. “I suppose we could, if we get the specifications right.”
The spaceship was shaped like an elongated coffin, and had a lid which could open all the way. It looked like it could fit only one person.
At first I didn’t know what “angelproof” meant. I thought he envisioned angels as bad spirits who would come tearing at his father’s astronaut helmet, trying to pry it off and expose the man inside to the deathly vacuum of space, and wanted to build a spaceship that was “angelproof” so that these bad spirits would not get to his father. After thinking about it for awhile, I realised that what the little boy meant by “angelproof” was less sinister. He wanted a spaceship where God’s angels would not come down from heaven to take the soul of his father away. He wanted to build a ship whose forcefields were impermeable to death.
When you come to think of it, it’s such a selfish thought. If God’s angels didn’t come to take the soul of his father away, he would have lived in isolation for the rest of his natural life on an alient planet, only able to tell time by the uncertain rotation of the asteroid. He wouldn’t have anything to eat, to breathe or to drink; he’d be a walking corpse, a ghost with a heartbeat. He’d slowly grow crazy, claustrophobic in the close confines of his suit, yet agoraphobic at the vast expanse of dull, lifeless rock. But aren’t humans selfish beings greedy for life? Life is just an act of self-preservation. We exist merely to propagate our species, to ensure that there will be more of us to act out this meaningless play. After all…