Use this, and you will be able to watch a lot of free movies and documentaries. With moviesfoundonline, it does not produce that popup icon which asks you to either save or run, just click on the screen and the movie will appear, like YouTube.
This is a movie that I want to share. A very beautiful movie, it left a memorable impression on me when I first saw it years ago.
The story takes place in France and starts in the years before World War I when a lonely traveller stumbles upon an arid land and meets a man who plants trees. The traveller has to enlist in the First World War and fights in the trenches. When he returns to this land, a place once bleak and devoid of hope is transformed into a paradise. However, the original tree planter dies, and the once young man takes up the torch of this tree planter and continues the legacy of renewal and regrowth and restoration of hope to a land. The story is more beautiful in the telling that occurs as this story unfolds.
When I returned from Prince Rupert, the first night I stayed in Vancouver, I dreamed about a cobblestone courtyard around Whistler, B.C.. At the cobblestone courtyard was a small dwelling with a room inside. It was an apartment connected to other dwellings, all a single building. In the room was cobblestone too. October 31, 1992.
A few weeks later, in late November 1992, I dropped acid at the UBC endowment lands as I was walking through the forest. When I returned to my apartment at the Afton Hotel, I was fully awake and I saw in my minds eye a Japanese nightclub. It was mostly brown. Dark fine and coarse grained, finely sanded mahogany wood and then a dark tan carpet. I saw a glass of whiskey. I saw the whiskey because LSD is a grain spirit and so is whisky.
In the circular hallway outside of the movie theatre auditorium, red doors itself.
Inside movie theatre balcony.
Years later, when I was travelling in Thailand, I dreamed I was outside the second floor of a multiplex of theatres. The second floor was circular in nature. I went in to one of the theatres, the door shown. There was a balcony level of a movie theatre.
About three nights ago, I dreamed that I had a radio the shape of a cow. The radio was all black on the back but the front showed a black and white design with a tuner display.
The radio sat on a fridge next to the bed of a rooming house that I always seem to visit in my dreams.
Somehow the radio wound up in the pawn shop and as I went to get it, a lady was in front of me, the only one and she was at the counter and she got the radio! The store clerk recommended I get a black rectangular box radio.
Interpretation: I never had so many cow dreams anywhere else as so profound as I have here. The reason why is that there are so many cows who live around this area and share the same astral projection space; the same space that people seem to go to in their dreams.
Last night, I dreamed that I was in a room. I was aware of a couple getting it on in a room to my right. All I could hear was the sounds. I did not know where exactly that room was and never saw it.
However, in front of me was a fat old lady with a white crew cut hair. She was wearing a cotton dress with these thin colourful lines running up and down. I said to her, "I saw you in the park!" She then unstrapped her dress and lifted it down and showed me her breasts. I went over to her and touched them.
Then I went to a next room to my left. There was a Police woman. She was very beautiful with an exquisite pointy nose that lifts a little bit. She had shoulder length light brown hair. I also said to her, "I remember you from the park!" I have always thought that Police women were amongst the most beautiful women I have ever seen. I remember most of the Police women I have ever seen and all of them are gorgeous.
I was on the streets. Then someone said that the tube is coming. I ran to my right then around the corner. I saw what the guy said was right.
There was a noise and then a truck, a hundred times if not a thousand times larger than a normal truck was turning the corner. It was a large yellow truck, it pulled a trailer, then a large tube, a large silver bullet. Then that bullet came my way! I ran to the corner but the bullet came through me as I went through it.
It accordioned itself with lots of silver segmented ribs like a worm, I ran to one section and it kept accordioning for another round. Then it stopped. I went to another section of the accordioned airplane and there was an open door connected to the building. I remembered that I am an employee and have the key.
I opened that door. It was a square door. I saw two wooden slats across. Outside the door to the left was a receptionists cubicle and a there was a black man with a large red rasta cap. I went through and there was a White lady who asked if that was the boat from China.
I looked back and saw those same wooden slats as I saw the doorway I emerged from.
-----
I teleported to where I recognized was my house on *** ************ street in Vancouver where I lived when I was 8 years old. I was piggy backing my baby adoptive brother and sister. They were in the form of babies. I was piggybacking my brother and then I backed up gently to let him down on the couch. I remember reassuringly patting his right foot then knee, a baby's knee. Then I looked to my right and saw my sister in the form of a baby.
Then I sensed myself crying in my dream, like a person would sense themselve screaming in their dream. As I sobbed, I said, I can't go back there, I can't face it there, I don't want to go back there and be alone, I want to stay here with you, I can't go back there again and be alone for God knows how long....
Then one of my guinea pigs and then another appeared on my chest. It had the vibe of the Disney movie Never Cry Wolf. They were soft, glistening, clean fur, they were like these large waterdrop forms of spirit.
Interpretation: I am not alone. My guinea pigs are with me.
In the early part of the 20th Century, archaeologist Howard Carter and company unearthed an unearthly treasure, namely the gold death mask. This is a master craft and clearly signified a later period in Egyptian Dynastic history.
The first major pyramids were for the Pharoahs like Kufu aka Cheops, Ramses, etc.
At these grand pyramids were located at Giza, not Gaza.
Later, burials were in the Valley of the Kings a distance away from the pyramids and the city centers to discourage grave robbers.
King Tutankhamen ruled Egypt as the Pharoah of Upper and Lower Egypt from 1333 BC - 1324 BC. At the age of 19, he mysteriously died. That means, 2007 + 1324 = 3331, that he died three thousand three hundred and thirty one years ago. 3331 written backwards is 1333 and 1333 BC is the year of the start of his reign!
King Tut was buried at the Valley of the Kings and the sophisticated craftsmanship which belies the making of his mask shows a period more technologically advanced as that of his great ancestors.
King Tutankamen's father was Amenhotep who was the first Pharoah to found a monothestic dynasty with the monotheomorph, Ankhanaten. This angered the Priests who support the pantheon system of Gods. The Priests murdered his father, and all conspiracy theorists say that the same people also killed King Tut when he was 19 by thrusting a knife through the back of his head. This is from the Discovery Channel.
Also, King Tut might have died of an accident falling out of his chariot. King Tut had scoliosis which must have contributed to his death, and also he went chariot riding. A man who has scoliosis and rides a chariot is like a man who walks in a rainstorm right after brain surgery before the sutures have fully stitched up. Or a man who goes horseback riding after lower abdominal surgery. Or a man who uses cocaine after open heart surgery. Not a good idea. Scoliosis is a condition where the vertebrael discs of the spine are fused.
Not so temporary ankylosing spondylitis.
Anyways, a few thousand years later and here is me, in Dawson Creek, drawing a picture in my own stylized way of a photograph of the death mask which underlies the sarcophagus of this teenaged and murdered king.
I am deciding to include the painting here, in stages. This kind of painting looks just as good in the evolving unfinished stages as does the finished product. Anyone at all can look into a gold mask and paint a picture of it, if their crystallized and defined field of vision can cherry pick and pluck out the geometric shapes that present themselves and then put these shapes together like putting together pieces of an organic jigsaw puzzle. I also decided to add one picture with the flash and one without the flashbulb.
---------------------------
Off the top of my head,
"When he was a young man, He never thought he'd see That people all would line up To see the boy king
King Tut, how'd you get so funky? Funky Tut,"
-Steve Martin, Saturday Night Live
In the original Saturday Night Live skit, the guy who jumps out of the upright Egyptian coffin playing the saxophone is Howard Shore, who composed the music for the recent Peter Jackson's Lord of the Rings trilogy.
Last night, as the end part of a much longer dream which I can still somewhat remember, a guy was in what I recognized to be my room.
He gave me a large gold canteen which looked very much like a pocketwatch except the lid was missing. He then knew that I noticed the missing lid so he reached into his left collar and brought out a fan shaped mirror and tapped a place on the floor next to a table and produced the lid. It was one of the most beautiful dream visions ever. It was a lid concentrically inlaid with not transparent, or opaque, but translucent pink-beige diamonds with a silver clasp on top. What a beautiful lid!
Only two illustrations are going with this dream. I was flying expertly as usual, legs folded under me as if I were sitting on a chair. I was in a classroom. Then I flew to the principal's office. She had red brown dyed hair. She was putting on these strange old records to put over the school loudspeaker. I flew back to the classroom always in the air looking down. The other students wondered what was with the strange music.
I was then in a store and I saw a Style Council tape with a psychedelic colourful pattern designed tape case. I went to the store counter and the cashier was there.
Near the door, in the cashier's display case was the exact same tape. I asked the cashier if I could see it. I took it out of the display case and shook it. There was a tape inside. It occured to me to look for a price. I could not find one. But the tape I brought from the shelf was empty but had a small $20 price sticker on it. For some reason I discerned that I had $130 in the bank and asked the cashier if I could go to the bank machine and come back, deciding I could afford to spend $20 of my last $130 for a Style Council tape.
I flew down the street, blocks. It looked like Vancouver's 4th Avenue, flying East to 4th and Burrard.
Just offhand, God, how and why do I remember the names of these fucking Vancouver streets!
Then I fly over a professional mechanics garage. I see a small pit bull. Still flying in the air, I fly in to the open garage door opening which is the farthest one to the right. I fly in, to the right is a hallway that is a dead end. I fly on. One hallway past that, totally perpendicular to the first is another hallway, but this has an opening.
Dream September 20, 2007. I wrote this article first on myspace.com.
http://www.myspace.com/drdrtfehytf
I run through Chinatown. I run through a store. A guy in the store in a glass booth with hanginq bbq ducks says something about an airplane. I ignore him and run past.
I run a couple of blocks East to a fenced in block. I stop in the middle of the block. This was the South side of Dunlevy Ave and Pender St in Vancouver. My friend Steve Cleary is there. There is a shoulder height chain link fence.
Just on the other side of that is a ramp structrure. I climb on and Steve is there too. We talk about our lives for a second. And then we do arm pushups. Then a bunch of people appear on the ramp structure.
They are wearing blue coveralls. One guy, whom I do not recognize is wearing a tawny yellow contruction hat with the Chinese characters for mouth and nine written in black felt marker on the hat. The characters were written in and up and down fashion with the character for mouth on top. However, I recogize the rest of them. Derek L, Gary M, Johhny C. They are people I knew from high school and it goes without saying that they all appeared as the age they were when I knew them and that is teenagers. They were all Chinese people. I did not like them. I looked at them, not afraid, ready to fight. Next, however, I hopped back over the fence saying, I am getting bad vibes, lets go, Steve. I cross the street. There is another Chinese guy there, very muscular. I ignore him and go into a warehouse place. Steve is with me. Then at the warehouse sitting down, Steve says, That is a traveller's worst nightmare. After travelling around for years, going back to your old hometown, visiting your old elementary school and then having your old classmates just happen to be there. I inwardly agreed. That is a contemptible situation. Then one of the guys from the ramp showed up. Darren W, and he was selling pot now. He pulled out a few bags of marijuana. These were White Rhino and like things in dreams, this pot had the perfect heavenly vibration.
The buds were dense, so flourescent green as to appear almost white. Darren gave me a $40 sized bud and said, I will sell this to you for $5. I remember having a $5 note as well as a $20. For some reason, probably because I did not forgive Darren for something from the past, I only gave Darren $5 for the bud. He left. A few minutes later, I found myself wishing I had given him the $20 because I would have more pot that way.
Later in a room, Steve is still with me. Then a girl I knew from highschool showed up. Me and her embraced.
Interpretation: People in my own home town know about me. The Chinese do not want me to be angry with them anymore and are reaching out to me to convince me to not be so angry and resentful with them.
I am too old and too cynical and too tough to pay attention to dreams. I once had a dream about someone and when I talked to them again, I regretted it as much as I ever regretted any meetings I had with this person. I sure would not want to see Vancouver ever again. I would not live there even if I had a chance to live in a million dollar house, etc. Vancouver used to be a decent city. Now it is just gross. It would be contemptible to see people that you used to know in high school. I leave a hometown forever because I am constantly sickened and grossed out with the ritual of walking past the highschool I went to and having that shit catalyze with my thoughts. How utterly contemptible.
Just because television dishes out some ideal, just because a song peddles some ideal, it does not mean it would happen to you. Like a television soap opera portrays a family reunion where a prodigal son is reunited with his family and there is wine, food, and happy cheerful set up prescripted scenarios. In real life whenever I acquiesce to reunite with the people who were introduced to me as my family I always always wind up regretting it. There is a song on the radio, Who says you can't go back, I've travelled the world as a matter of fact.... Who says you can't go home. Just a silly song. Whenever I go back it is just a continuation of the shit strain of energy that was always there. Whenever I acquiesce to go back to Vancouver as I have a few times whenever I hit the city, the shitty brand of that kind of familiarity, the peculiar specific lei lines there which I feel whenever I am there and from a distance regard with great hate, the reemergence of shitty memories, Vancouver was year after year of shit after shit. Gawd am I glad I am not there. That is one place that I would never want to be again. From what I read on the internet the place has gotten worse. More traffic jams, more inbred looking ugly faced immigrants who after decades of living there, still speak their goddamned horrid sounding shit language every day.
An aside, I would like Blogger to put a counter on each blog posting, and also a main counter for the entire blog in general. I wrote them and asked about this. The reason I post compulsively and almost religiously on myspace.com is because they do have a blog counter and I like watching the numbers climb. If Blogger can install new "toys" like a video screen, they can surely put in a counter for they are both conglomerate subsidiaries of Google. If more Blogger bloggers could write in and petition for a counter to appear, then that increases the chances of it happening one day.
Also, this is just basic syllogism. There are millions of artists. If they all are suing YouTube, that means YouTube may be an asshole. But since it is only Prince suing YouTube, that means Prince is an asshole. What if someone were to get a Prince CD at WalMart on the strength of listening to one of his songs on YouTube that they otherwise would not if they did not hear the song? What if someone decides to hire Prince to play at a wedding, or a birthday party from watching a Prince video on YouTube?
---------------------------------------
The other day, I had a dream that I was in an empty recording studio. I looked in the large window which was a distance away from where I was standing in the room and I saw two figures in the window. The quick slimy emanation, that feeling of a sickly ethereal non-glow made me feel the scream within me while I was dreaming but I needed to feel the 3 dimensional filter of the scream emanating from my physical throat and it was a few seconds of struggling before I woke up and then a full second later, I screamed a hoarse 5 second scream, conscious not to scream too loud because of the neighbours. When I woke up, it was 1:30 at night. It was a ten second dream within a one hour catnap.
Interpretation: Those two figures in the window were ghosts of the dead! And not happy ones at that.
There are two kinds of ghosts of the dead.
a) Good - They appear young. Without a blemish. A good advertising for skin cream would be, Using this skin cream will make your skin look as clear as that of a ghost.
b) Bad - You will know immediately. Bad, surly vibes. Usually in black, looking murky. Often feeling angry, mischievous, scared, preoccupied or a combination of these. Years ago, I once saw one of these ghosts in an airport dream, and he had a long scar and ralilroad suture stiches on his left eyeball.
"There are other forces at work, besides the will of evil." -Gandalf
Indeed as soon as you have a dream about a negative spirit, and especially once you scream a whole host of spiritual guardians and Police will be there to help you. There are dream shamans and masters here as people on Earth who will help you too, but you will not know who they are.
Years ago, I had a dream where I was making a speech on the grounds of Sunrise Park at Rupert St between 3rd and 4th Ave in Vancouver. I was on top of the hill. There was a stage above me and to the West of me. I was yelling, making some kind of mischievous political speech. I looked up on the stage, all of a sudden a bunch of Police Officers appeared. One of them was next to me immediately and asked for a fine. I thought I had no money, but I pulled out a wallet full of money.
Warning: The following paragraph contains explicit material. Another time, I had a dream where I was walking a block East on Davie Street in Vancouver. A woman I met earlier wanted to give me a blow job right then and there on the street. I saw the downward pointing thick stub of my penis and then her mouth was around it. I felt her mouth around me. Then a few moments later, I came shooting big splattering droplets of milky white, dream white cum on the street.
I then walked West back towards Denman and that is when I saw four female RCMP Police Officers and they were wearing the hats with the thick yellow band around it, and they were all wearing green raincoats.
A few weeks ago, I had a dream where I was walking down the street and looking in a building window as a mirror. I then saw myself dressed as an RCMP Officer with the vest and the grey short sleeve shirt. In the dream, the shirt was perfectly ironed. I was disappointed when a few days later I saw the RCMP in a television news report and as I looked at their elbows I saw the short sleeve shirt and it gave me a slight jolt of recognition from the dream. Their shirtsleeves was not as ironed as the dream shirt sleeve appeared in my dream.
Anyways, the percentage of ghosts that appear is dreams is this. Good ghosts appear 98% of the time at least that is how it is with me. Of course with people who are more negative, the negative ghosts would appear a greater percentage of the time.
I have been into recording and illustrating my dreams only since 2003. When patterns repeat themselves not once but a few times and many, many patterns, that means the circle is closed. However I have not been at this long enough to see more than a couple of consistent patterns. There are more. My circle of understanding has not yet fully formed itself and closed.
Giants are freaks, midgets are freaks, but human are not freaks....OK....
The Giants I am referring to are the Annunakis of which Goliath was descended from. The Annunakis were seven feet and taller. They are hairless ETs with blue eyes.
Midgets are the little people of legend but a smaller race of people who existed as a humanoid species at the same time as the Neanderthal. These people were very smart and skilled at arts and crafts and medicine. Survivors of this genetic strain lived into the Middle Ages. They were referred to as dwarves and elves who mostly lived in the woods and ingested magic mushrooms as a youthful initiation ritual into the mysteries of nature.
Hirsute apes are freaks, hairless ETs are freaks, but semi-haired humans are not freaks.... OK....
The Sasquatch is an animal that is very difficult to find. The few scientists who have actually seen one are on government orders not to talk about it. The hairless ETs are commonly referred to as greys. Humans are 3D beings, and no less stranger than ETs or exotic animals.
In the 1st World, we are used to all tall buildings being pretty much being fully functional, or else they are demolished. Not so in the Third World. I have personally walked through shells of buildings, mere husks of skyscrapers that did not have electricity. The outdoor sky elevator shaft having a few wires hanging from the elevator entry hold hole like disembowelled remnants from a summary and half performed evisceration. The entire structure had a Planet of the Apes look, and not in a good way. A specific example is Pranakorn Ave and Phra Arthit Road where you can see such a building on the Southeast side of the Street.
In my dreams I have visited the top floor of the interior of such buildings. The elevator is often a modern elevator, but sometimes it is an old elevator, and when I get to the top floor, there is the obligatory hallway, but with just a bare skeleton of a flourescent light, or incandescent bulbs hanging from the threadbare unfinished ceiling.
I have endeavoured to include some CGIs and one photograph about this:
This is the ground floor just before I get on the elevator which is situated on a raised section of the floor, like a slight dais. Be that as it may, I am on the elevator going up on while what seems to be a modern ground floor of a building.
As I get off the elevator, there is the elevator and then there is a window next to that. The hallway has a dark red coloured carpet.
This is the hallway as I go further on. Don't think that the lights on the ceiling are anything modern or professional. They are rather, pathetically distended incandescent lights or otherwise noncommital flourescent lights hanging from ceiling fixtures which are little more than non-painted plywood. Most of the hallway is shrouded in undeveloped and unrenovated darkness.
This is a building from Wikipedia 'Burma'. Likewise from my dreams, which could be interpreted, rather, as nightmares, is a real life picture of a skyscraper which does not have electricity fully running through it, common in Third World countries, but almost unheard of in 1st World countries. Imagine being in the top floor of such a structure.
The other day, I had a vivid dream about the singer George Michael of Wham.
He was giving a tour of a house. He was wearing a dark coloured, a cloudy black of a large collared silk fashion shirt of the 80s like the shirt that Han Solo wore when he emerged from the carbonite in Return of the Jedi. George Michael was also wearing a dark blue Greek cap like Canadian writer Peter Newman likes to wear. He had long blonde hair as he did in the 80s. Even then, he was still shaking his head in little jerks a mile a minute in that affectation kind of way, very femme, very gay.
The women around him totally knew, but they were still very attracted to him. Then I was in a toilet stall about to take a piss. In the toilet stall to the right of me, next to me was George Michael. I was disgusted and left.
Then there was a guy in the toilet stall who started putting his fingers up a now bent over George Michael. I remember throwing some toilet paper at George Michael's face as he was bent over. It was a mean thing to do, even though I like his singing. I did not agree with what he was doing.
