Mark Stanley Roy 1964 - 2002
Note: I am not using megavideo anymore. You can not upload videos onto their site unless you pay. My videos have not been appearing on megavideo even after I uploaded them. There are tons of free video uploading sites.
Mark Stanley Roy from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
Dreams of my friend Mark Roy, since he died in May, 2002. The video says 2003, yet, come to think of it, he died in 2002 in Vancouver.
The first dream I had of Mark was in the summer of 2003, a couple of months after he died. I was in Thailand at the time. Mark was at the Royal Bank on Main and Hastings;
Me: Mark, you are alive. And you look well. That means you haven't died.
Mark: That's right.
Me: That means the trip to the hospital wasn't real and I can see you and again like before.
Mark: No......
In another dream, me and Mark, shooting cocaine, sitting at a table.
In another dream, angry in life, angry after death, Mark and I are in a room. There is a mattress on the floor next to an open doorway.
Angry Mark says, "It's under the quilt!!!"
I look and find a white plastic tube about seven inches in circumference and telescoping in one place. It is liquid cocaine, and then there is a leak and water erupts out.
The way Mark said, "It's over there! It's under the quilt!!!" That's classic Mark. Mark Stanley Roy.
I see my friend Mark Roy. He died in May, 2003. In the dream, he is wearing a thin sporty windbreaker jacket, cut up into three large flourescent colour swathes; white, pastel reddish purple, and pastel blue. Mark walks with me, intimating that he wants to do drugs with me just like old times. I remember thinking in my mind that, too bad I don't do still have the bag of ecstacy, because I could get Mark to trade that for some crack, then no, I don't really want to be smoking crack, and I don't exactly want to be talking with Mark, either.
So I start flapping my arms and flying up, remembering that I am pretty good when it comes to flying and astral projection.
Mark says, "That's right, Just start flack, flacking away." Although I think he said, "Yeah, that's right, just start flapping away."
Mark Roy dream voice from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
Tuesday, April 29th 2009, the day after making the video Mark Stanley Roy, I guess in general, I must be thinking of Mark.
This morning, hazy sleepy, in a dream state, I casually thought of Mark, and I thought the question, "If I am a loser, should I kill myself?"
I heard Mark's voice say, and kind of angrily, "Not now....." Not "Not now...." as in don't commit suicide now, "Not now....." as in don't even be asking that question now! Which was exactly how he used to talk.
I had to record the video to show exactly how he said, "Not now!" Angry, snarky, Marky.
Also, telepathically, I got a little bit of, "....as a spiritual guide, or your friend from this side of the dead, you are at a stage in your existence where you are not supposed to ask questions about death like this at this time."
Maybe also "Not now, for Christ's sake you are about to wake up!"
____________________________________________________________
Monday, April 27, 2009
Thursday, April 16, 2009
James And The Giant Peach
James And The Giant Peach
adapted and abridged
http://www.megavideo.com/?v=2U0P7NJY
James And The Giant Peach
Scenes at a zoo.
Narrator: One day, at the zoo, a Rhinoceros escapes from his enclosure.
Narrator appears: The rhinoceros goes on a tear through downtown London. The rhinoceros on his rampage kills a couple who were the parents of a ten year old boy.
Narrator: This boy is sent to live with his Aunts, a fat one called Sponger, and a thin one called Spiker. If he is not sent to the basement, he is not able to stray beyond the yard of his Aunts.
One day, he saw a magical green worm. This worm gave James a white paper bag full of dancing colour sparkles. The worm said, "Whoever eats these sparkles, a wonderful thing will happen to him, but be careful, the magic will work on whoever eats the sparkles be it human, plant, or animal."
James ran back to the house. He tripped. The sparkles fell out of the bag onto the ground. James thought, I am sunk.
That evening, a strange plant grew in the garden.
A giant Peach.
A line up forms around the fence of the house as Sponger and Spiker charge admission for people to see the Giant Peach. "Terrifico." Aunt Sponger cried. "Hallelujah" Aunt Spiker said.
That night, James walked towards the Peach. A hole appeared below the peach, a faint light glowing within. He climbed up the hole of the peach and in the distance, was a door.
He opened the door and saw the most incredible sight. He thought of Howard Carter the Egyptologist. What do you see? The most wonderful things.
What James saw was a roomful of the most wonderful and at the same time, the most hideous beasts. He saw a gargantuan grasshopper, a spider, a ladybug with nine spots on her scarlet shell, a centipede, an earthworm, a silkworm, and a glow worm. Of course glow worms are never worms. Glow worms are lady fireflies without wings.
The Peach rolled down the hill.
The Peach rolled into the ocean. The peach sailed in the ocean for a few days. The group sat outside, on top of the peach. That is when they began to notice sharks attacking the peach.
"I have an idea." James said. We need to get the spider to spin some web. Then we have to lasso the rope, like a cowboy around the neck of one of the seagulls."
When enough seagulls have been roped, the Peach began to fly away. It flew above the ocean, like an airplane, it flew above the clouds and they encountered a strange flyover zone where there were cloud men. These strange celestial beings of cloud seemed to dance in the ether and then they pelted the peach with hailstones.
The Peach flew on to a city. At last, the Peach rested on the spire of a building.
Airplanes flew around the Peach, and the heroes appeared above on top of the Peach. The next day, they were on the front page of the newspapers.
Years later, James as an old man greeted people at the front of his house, which is the now withered seed of the Peach whose flesh had long been eaten or otherwise rotted off. He greeted visitors who visited the museum. Visitors were offered a cup of tea when they entered the museum. And they were always shocked at what they saw for sitting in the chair was the last surviving animal and that is the grasshopper, now very old. But otherwise alive and greeting visitors.
**************************************************
James and the Giant Peach is a story in the Roald Dahl series of after he decided to become a writer of children's books.
He started to write when he was a boy. However, he wrote his first novel about his experiences as a pilot during the Second World War.
Later on in his life, he reinvented himself as a writer of children's literature including as titles such luminaries as James and the Giant Peach, Danny the Champion of the World.
_______________________________________________________________
Dean and Randene. The first picture that I took of myself on my new camera.
Kodak C813.
__________________________________________________________________
adapted and abridged
James And The Giant Peach from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
http://www.megavideo.com/?v=2U0P7NJY
James And The Giant Peach
Scenes at a zoo.
Narrator: One day, at the zoo, a Rhinoceros escapes from his enclosure.
Narrator appears: The rhinoceros goes on a tear through downtown London. The rhinoceros on his rampage kills a couple who were the parents of a ten year old boy.
Narrator: This boy is sent to live with his Aunts, a fat one called Sponger, and a thin one called Spiker. If he is not sent to the basement, he is not able to stray beyond the yard of his Aunts.
One day, he saw a magical green worm. This worm gave James a white paper bag full of dancing colour sparkles. The worm said, "Whoever eats these sparkles, a wonderful thing will happen to him, but be careful, the magic will work on whoever eats the sparkles be it human, plant, or animal."
James ran back to the house. He tripped. The sparkles fell out of the bag onto the ground. James thought, I am sunk.
That evening, a strange plant grew in the garden.
A giant Peach.
A line up forms around the fence of the house as Sponger and Spiker charge admission for people to see the Giant Peach. "Terrifico." Aunt Sponger cried. "Hallelujah" Aunt Spiker said.
That night, James walked towards the Peach. A hole appeared below the peach, a faint light glowing within. He climbed up the hole of the peach and in the distance, was a door.
He opened the door and saw the most incredible sight. He thought of Howard Carter the Egyptologist. What do you see? The most wonderful things.
What James saw was a roomful of the most wonderful and at the same time, the most hideous beasts. He saw a gargantuan grasshopper, a spider, a ladybug with nine spots on her scarlet shell, a centipede, an earthworm, a silkworm, and a glow worm. Of course glow worms are never worms. Glow worms are lady fireflies without wings.
The Peach rolled down the hill.
The Peach rolled into the ocean. The peach sailed in the ocean for a few days. The group sat outside, on top of the peach. That is when they began to notice sharks attacking the peach.
"I have an idea." James said. We need to get the spider to spin some web. Then we have to lasso the rope, like a cowboy around the neck of one of the seagulls."
When enough seagulls have been roped, the Peach began to fly away. It flew above the ocean, like an airplane, it flew above the clouds and they encountered a strange flyover zone where there were cloud men. These strange celestial beings of cloud seemed to dance in the ether and then they pelted the peach with hailstones.
The Peach flew on to a city. At last, the Peach rested on the spire of a building.
Airplanes flew around the Peach, and the heroes appeared above on top of the Peach. The next day, they were on the front page of the newspapers.
Years later, James as an old man greeted people at the front of his house, which is the now withered seed of the Peach whose flesh had long been eaten or otherwise rotted off. He greeted visitors who visited the museum. Visitors were offered a cup of tea when they entered the museum. And they were always shocked at what they saw for sitting in the chair was the last surviving animal and that is the grasshopper, now very old. But otherwise alive and greeting visitors.
**************************************************
James and the Giant Peach is a story in the Roald Dahl series of after he decided to become a writer of children's books.
He started to write when he was a boy. However, he wrote his first novel about his experiences as a pilot during the Second World War.
Later on in his life, he reinvented himself as a writer of children's literature including as titles such luminaries as James and the Giant Peach, Danny the Champion of the World.
_______________________________________________________________
Dean and Randene. The first picture that I took of myself on my new camera.
Kodak C813.
__________________________________________________________________
Thursday, April 9, 2009
Ebay Dissatisfied Customer
Ebay Dissatisfied Customer
Ebay Dissatisfied Customer from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
A scene between the Prince of whichever region in Germany, and the Count de Chevalier. The Prince says, "I cannot say how, but I believe that you have cheated me. If you wish to the money now you will have to fight me. If not, I will pay you something another time."
"Your Grace, I deny your accusation and if I am to be so tame as to accept such an accusation, I would be forced to give up an honourable and lucrative profession."
The German Count: Ebay buyer
The Chevalier: Ebay seller
A month ago, I placed an order on ebay. I am seriously wondering as to whether I will actually get it.
________________________________________________________
I have to remix this tonight using a much better lighting and technological foliage system.
__________________________________________________________
Ebay Dissatisfied Customer from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
A scene between the Prince of whichever region in Germany, and the Count de Chevalier. The Prince says, "I cannot say how, but I believe that you have cheated me. If you wish to the money now you will have to fight me. If not, I will pay you something another time."
"Your Grace, I deny your accusation and if I am to be so tame as to accept such an accusation, I would be forced to give up an honourable and lucrative profession."
The German Count: Ebay buyer
The Chevalier: Ebay seller
A month ago, I placed an order on ebay. I am seriously wondering as to whether I will actually get it.
________________________________________________________
I have to remix this tonight using a much better lighting and technological foliage system.
__________________________________________________________
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Apuppetscalypse Now
Apuppetscalypse Now
Apuppetscalypse Now from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
Opening scenes of the jungle, the doors the end playing.
Narrator, Benjamin Mallard: Saigon, shit, still only in Saigon. Everytime I think I was back in the jungle. I hardly spoken a word to my wife in months, but when I did she said yes to a divorce. It was worst after my first tour of duty. When I was here, I wanted to be there, and when I was there, all I could think about was getting back into the jungle. I've been sitting here a week now, waiting for a mission. Getting softer. Every minute Charlie squats out there in the bush, he grows stronger, while I sitting here in this hotel room gets weaker. I can feel the walls move in around me.
Radio: Sector delta charlie, communication, july 22nd, 1965.
I watched a snail, crawling on the edge of a straightrazor, crawling, slithering on the end of a straightrazor and surviving. That is why we must incinerate them, cow after cow, village after village. And they call me a murderer? What do you call it when the murderer calls a murderer a murderer. A lie, that is what it is, and we must be merciful to those who lie. I hate them, those Nabobs.
GD Spradlamb: Walt Kurtz was an outstanding officer, brilliant in every way. But lately, his methods, his reasons, have become .....unsound.
Benjamin Mallard: Unsound, sir?
GD Spradlamb: Walt Kurtz is about to be arrested for murder.
Benjamin Mallard: Murder? Murdered who? I don't understand, sir.
GD Spradlamb: See in this war, things get confused out there, ethics, morality, and good does not always win. Sometimes the dark side overcomes what Lincoln called the better angels of our nature. You see, Mallard, every man has a breaking point. You and I have one. Walt Kurtz has reached his and he has definitely gone insane.
Jerry: Terminate with extreme prejudice.
Kildog: Vin din lop, vin din drop, all those gook names sound the same.
Mallard: Kildog had a strange light around him. You knew that he was going to come out of this without a scratch.
Kildog: We'll pilot and drop off that boat anywhere you want, young captain.
The next day:
Kildog: See that?
That's napalm, son. Nothing else in the world smells like it. I love the smell of napalm in the morning. I remember once we bombed this hill and when it was over, there was not one stinking dink body. A hill, a whole hill! That gasoline smell! Smells like..... victory! One day this war is going to be over, son.
Playboy bunnies, Mallard in the crowd.
Mr Kurtz: Where are you from sir?
Mallard: Ohio.
Kurtz: I remember sailing down the Ohio River and there were fresh ....gardenias.
Are you a soldier or a mercenary?
Mallard: I am a soldier, sir.
Kurtz: You are neither. You are a grocery clerk sent to collect a bill.
Later,
Kurtz, quoting TS Eliot: We are the hollow men, we are the stuffed men, leaning together, headpiece full of straw, alas our....
Still later,
Kurtz: They tell us to drop bombs on children, but they won't let us write "fuck" on our airplanes.
Willard, the killing stroke.
"The horror, the horror,"
A shot of Angkor Thom; the Bayon.
____________________________________________________________
Apuppetscalypse Now from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
Opening scenes of the jungle, the doors the end playing.
Narrator, Benjamin Mallard: Saigon, shit, still only in Saigon. Everytime I think I was back in the jungle. I hardly spoken a word to my wife in months, but when I did she said yes to a divorce. It was worst after my first tour of duty. When I was here, I wanted to be there, and when I was there, all I could think about was getting back into the jungle. I've been sitting here a week now, waiting for a mission. Getting softer. Every minute Charlie squats out there in the bush, he grows stronger, while I sitting here in this hotel room gets weaker. I can feel the walls move in around me.
Radio: Sector delta charlie, communication, july 22nd, 1965.
I watched a snail, crawling on the edge of a straightrazor, crawling, slithering on the end of a straightrazor and surviving. That is why we must incinerate them, cow after cow, village after village. And they call me a murderer? What do you call it when the murderer calls a murderer a murderer. A lie, that is what it is, and we must be merciful to those who lie. I hate them, those Nabobs.
GD Spradlamb: Walt Kurtz was an outstanding officer, brilliant in every way. But lately, his methods, his reasons, have become .....unsound.
Benjamin Mallard: Unsound, sir?
GD Spradlamb: Walt Kurtz is about to be arrested for murder.
Benjamin Mallard: Murder? Murdered who? I don't understand, sir.
GD Spradlamb: See in this war, things get confused out there, ethics, morality, and good does not always win. Sometimes the dark side overcomes what Lincoln called the better angels of our nature. You see, Mallard, every man has a breaking point. You and I have one. Walt Kurtz has reached his and he has definitely gone insane.
Jerry: Terminate with extreme prejudice.
Kildog: Vin din lop, vin din drop, all those gook names sound the same.
Mallard: Kildog had a strange light around him. You knew that he was going to come out of this without a scratch.
Kildog: We'll pilot and drop off that boat anywhere you want, young captain.
The next day:
Kildog: See that?
That's napalm, son. Nothing else in the world smells like it. I love the smell of napalm in the morning. I remember once we bombed this hill and when it was over, there was not one stinking dink body. A hill, a whole hill! That gasoline smell! Smells like..... victory! One day this war is going to be over, son.
Playboy bunnies, Mallard in the crowd.
Mr Kurtz: Where are you from sir?
Mallard: Ohio.
Kurtz: I remember sailing down the Ohio River and there were fresh ....gardenias.
Are you a soldier or a mercenary?
Mallard: I am a soldier, sir.
Kurtz: You are neither. You are a grocery clerk sent to collect a bill.
Later,
Kurtz, quoting TS Eliot: We are the hollow men, we are the stuffed men, leaning together, headpiece full of straw, alas our....
Still later,
Kurtz: They tell us to drop bombs on children, but they won't let us write "fuck" on our airplanes.
Willard, the killing stroke.
"The horror, the horror,"
A shot of Angkor Thom; the Bayon.
____________________________________________________________
Duckface the handpuppet
Duckface the handpuppet
Duckface from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
_______________________________________________________
Duckface from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
_______________________________________________________
Friday, April 3, 2009
Black Prison Dream
Black Prison Dream
Black Prison Dream from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
Dream: April 2nd, Thursday, 2009
Prison riot. Three black prisoners are directed to this room. With tinted glass on one side. The other side a wall. On the other side of the glass wall of the prisoners, outside of the room they are in, there is a larger gymnasium room measuring 50 feet x 50 feet. There is a prison riot going on. The room measures 20 feet x 5 feet. The three black prisoners are sleeping in sleeping bags. Then someone comes and says, "It is your turn." Then one of the black prisoners has to lean against a wall, sitting down on an invisible chair, in other words, no chair. Below him is a long shard of glass. He must not sit down, or get impaled by the glass. After some time, the guy who came into the room says to another black prisoner, "It's your turn." Then one of the black prisoners replaces the other, as if on sentinel duty.
Then a coach comes into the room and disperses the entire thing. At the same time, the riot outside the room completely stopped and the room was cleared of any people.
He said that an athlete must get the maximum rest and to not exert themselves nor do anything too strenuous. He then looked at the athletes and said, "What have you been doing with yourselves?" When he saw that they had to do that excercise with sitting above the glass, he realized that they indeed had been exerting themselves! And that is when I woke up, laughing in my sleep. Hilarious!
______________________________________________________
Dreams April 20, 21, 2009
Dreams April 20, 21, 2009 from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
Sitting with a group of people, young people in early twenties like field trip leaders or else young Police academy cadets in training. A couple of guys a couple of girl, they wore sweat shirts, shorts and caps. We were all sitting on a carpeted floor in an airport, then teleport to a bus going up Granville and Broadyway in Vancouver, heading South, the bus just behind the lights at the Northern intersection of Granville and Broadway. I saw, at the airport, "Most towns I travelled to were pretty nice. Vancouver, you are coasting along normally, and then unpleasant surprise." I continue on, on the bus along Granville, as the bus is going uphill, "But even this town, Dawson Creek, I want to leave because when I am here, I think of committing suicide."
Looking out the window, a bearded guy next to me, the janitor Paul, says, "See that?" I see at least one lighted mountain hill with lights. Bear mountain, I thought. "Anyways, there is a road that runs to the mountain and then goes right, West, that way, to the coast. Then there is another road going East to the centre of Canada. This was in the 1800s before paved roads." he said.
In a roomful of people, against a wall is a slightly fat girl with brown hair. I go to her and hug her. She says, "Since we like each other so much, why don't we go upstairs?" She is leading the way, holding my hand. We turn left, through the crowd. Then left again, going up a dark set of stairs as there is a wall between the stairs, and the hazy morning lit crowd of people with brown mahogany wooden floors.
A large room with a couch and a television on a stand in the centre of the room. Three college kids are there, lounging about.
Me and her go into a room to the left, door open. On the opposite wall of the door is a window in the centre, a mattress on the floor to the right of the window. Me and her lie down there. This mattress is lying width wise. Then we teleport to another mattress across the room, against the wall that the door is, lying lengthwise. There is a knock on the door. An old woman appears. She has a round 'afro' looking, but not type round wispy old people's hairdo. I moved so fast that she did not think that just a split second ago, me and the girl were together.
Then I am in a room. I see someone I knew before. Juan B. But he looks older now, more distinguished. Before, he was a baby fat, blubbery kind of guy.
Then teleport to a beach, this guy Juan is across from me, sitting on a low wooden platform. I am sitting on a wooden platform too. Then there appears his brother Jose to my right, and he is looking older, more distinguished. I knew them 20 years ago when they were in their twenties, they are now in their forties.
Then some girls in bikinis, at a distance, run over. I see that there is going to be much more than one girl to one guy, more like a lot of girls to one guy. I am sitting on a bench at the same beach, ie teleport to a bench a short distance away, on the same beach. That slightly fat girl with brown hair from before is sitting with me, and I am thinking, "Even though I am with this fat girl, I would still like to try some of the thin young girls that are coming over now."
I start walking towards them. A lady asks if I want something to drink, alcohol. I turn around and see a bunch of wine bottles and plastic cups half full of red wine. I say, "Sure, actually come to think of it, no, because I am drunk enough already."
I go to sit on the shore line of the beach, with the waves lapping at my feet. There is a crowd of people. To my left is a group of college students, mostly women, a couple of adults. Then to my right were a bunch of children. They were joking, asking riddles. I knew that they knew that I was a famous director, I remember thinking in that moment, in the midst of the dream, "I know they don't expect me to act out any of my films any more than George Lucas at an amusement park or a beach would be expected to act out scenes from STAR WARS."
Dream Monday April 20, 2009
At a shop looking at something. In the same bin, just over were some ping pong balls. Then teleport away to a mall department store where there are three boxes next to each other. To the right was an escalator. In the middle box was, "Christmas presents for ages 15 to 21 years old." I pull out a present. There is a cellophane wrapped package with a label '40' written on it. In the center is a Santa on a copper coloured lid.
Note: Notice that Jennifer Love Hewitt on the Ghost Whiperer never, ever quotes the ghosts verbatim. That is because this is signifies that she only ever receives a strong telepathic impulse from the ghosts. A ghost would say, "I think about her all the time, she is always in my thoughts, my essence, through this timeless wandering through eternity." "What did he say?" the petitioner asks. Then Jennifer Love Hewitt says, "He misses you."
The Word was God. And the Word was with God. I like to think that this means the difference between telepathy and the spoken word. In a way, telepathy is more exact than the spoken word, but also in a way, telepathy is much less exact than the spoken word, which was perhaps why the spoken word, ie this dimension was created by God. Who else created it?
Telepathy is God's language.
________________________________________________________________
Dream April 23, 2009 from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
At a poetry store, or something. A mother and daughter reading poetry. When it is over, one poem presents itself as a blue and white stocking, another one a red stocking.
Hastings St. An apartment high up above Hastings Street has a ledge and open window. Two people from the now closed Save-On Meats, including the short old guy Louie who owned the store and a fat female employee, walked on the ledge, moving past the open window open to the outside, even though it thinned their path for a bit, and went to the walk in fridge in the room to the left, next to the room I was in. I asked them if they were afraid of heights. They said that they had to do this all the time and was used to it.
I find some ecstacy pills, looking like flat watch batteries, on a sidewallk. I put it in a small white paper bag. There is a Thai child next to me. I say, take these and maybe you can sell them for money for yourself, don't eat them. He goes off and disappears. A second later, he comes back with three tall Thai guys. "Where did you get that ecstacy? Why did you give it to the child?"
At a Church. Strange formed pews, some at perpendicular angles to each other, rather than the usual parallel to each other. My cousin, I am not going to say her name here, because I don't want to send out any signals indicating that I may want to contact her again, because I really don't. Incidentally, I don't really believe that these so called cousins are actually related to me.
Anyways, what's her name tells me to sit over there, at the pews. I sit, and then get mad. "I don't see her very often and now she is giving me orders telling me where to sit?!" I get mad. I am getting out of here!
As I approach the double doors to leave the Church, the sidewalk of Hasting Street just outside, I look in my plastic bag to see that I have all my things. I know the dream will soon be over, and soon, I will be back in Dawson Creek, back in reallife space, rather than the dreamspace I am in now. I was aware of all this at the back of my mind, you see.
Then turn right, walk down the street. I see my friend Mark Roy. He died in May, 2003. In the dream, he is wearing a thin sporty windbreaker jacket, cut up into three large flourescent colour swathes; white, pastel reddish purple, and pastel blue. Mark walks with me, intimating that he wants to do drugs with me just like old times. I remember thinking in my mind that, too bad I don't do still have the bag of ecstacy, because I could get Mark to trade that for some crack, then no, I don't really want to be smoking crack, and I don't exactly want to be talking with Mark, either.
So I start flapping my arms and flying up, remembering that I am pretty good when it comes to flying and astral projection.
Mark says, "That's right, Just start flack, flacking away." Although I think he said, "Yeah, that's right, just start flapping away."
Why do I see Mark the junkie's ghost all the time in my dreams? Yeah, just start flapping away! is something that Mark WOULD say.
Sigh, like people at a restaurant talking about you while you are there, I have had so many ghosts in dreams talk about me in particular my activity of astral flying, that is moving my arms that I am almost nauseated by it. In one dream, a Chinese man smiles and points up, telling me telepathically, without words, to not give up but keep trying to float up. In another dream, a recent dream, a Chinese guy says, about me, "He is swimming, as I am moving my arms in a breaststroke like a green leatherback sea turtle. And as you know, in this dreams Mark says, "Yeah, that's right, just keep flap flapping away." as I move my arms to alight and take flight away from there.
The first dream I had of Mark was in the summer of 2003, a couple of months after he died. I was in Thailand at the time. Mark was at the Royal Bank on Main and Hastings;
Me: Mark, you are alive. And you look well. That means you haven't died.
Mark: That's right.
Me: That means the trip to the hospital wasn't real and I can see you and again like before.
Mark: No......
In another dream, me and Mark, shooting cocaine, sitting at a table.
In another dream, angry in life, angry after death, Mark and I are in a room. There is a mattress on the floor next to an open doorway.
Angry Mark says, "It's under the quilt!!!"
I look and find a white plastic tube about seven inches in circumference and telescoping in one place. It is liquid cocaine, and then there is a leak and water erupts out.
The way Mark said, "It's over there! It's under the quilt!!!" That's classic Mark. Mark Stanley Roy.
________________________________________________________________
Black Prison Dream from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
Dream: April 2nd, Thursday, 2009
Prison riot. Three black prisoners are directed to this room. With tinted glass on one side. The other side a wall. On the other side of the glass wall of the prisoners, outside of the room they are in, there is a larger gymnasium room measuring 50 feet x 50 feet. There is a prison riot going on. The room measures 20 feet x 5 feet. The three black prisoners are sleeping in sleeping bags. Then someone comes and says, "It is your turn." Then one of the black prisoners has to lean against a wall, sitting down on an invisible chair, in other words, no chair. Below him is a long shard of glass. He must not sit down, or get impaled by the glass. After some time, the guy who came into the room says to another black prisoner, "It's your turn." Then one of the black prisoners replaces the other, as if on sentinel duty.
Then a coach comes into the room and disperses the entire thing. At the same time, the riot outside the room completely stopped and the room was cleared of any people.
He said that an athlete must get the maximum rest and to not exert themselves nor do anything too strenuous. He then looked at the athletes and said, "What have you been doing with yourselves?" When he saw that they had to do that excercise with sitting above the glass, he realized that they indeed had been exerting themselves! And that is when I woke up, laughing in my sleep. Hilarious!
______________________________________________________
Dreams April 20, 21, 2009
Dreams April 20, 21, 2009 from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
Sitting with a group of people, young people in early twenties like field trip leaders or else young Police academy cadets in training. A couple of guys a couple of girl, they wore sweat shirts, shorts and caps. We were all sitting on a carpeted floor in an airport, then teleport to a bus going up Granville and Broadyway in Vancouver, heading South, the bus just behind the lights at the Northern intersection of Granville and Broadway. I saw, at the airport, "Most towns I travelled to were pretty nice. Vancouver, you are coasting along normally, and then unpleasant surprise." I continue on, on the bus along Granville, as the bus is going uphill, "But even this town, Dawson Creek, I want to leave because when I am here, I think of committing suicide."
Looking out the window, a bearded guy next to me, the janitor Paul, says, "See that?" I see at least one lighted mountain hill with lights. Bear mountain, I thought. "Anyways, there is a road that runs to the mountain and then goes right, West, that way, to the coast. Then there is another road going East to the centre of Canada. This was in the 1800s before paved roads." he said.
In a roomful of people, against a wall is a slightly fat girl with brown hair. I go to her and hug her. She says, "Since we like each other so much, why don't we go upstairs?" She is leading the way, holding my hand. We turn left, through the crowd. Then left again, going up a dark set of stairs as there is a wall between the stairs, and the hazy morning lit crowd of people with brown mahogany wooden floors.
A large room with a couch and a television on a stand in the centre of the room. Three college kids are there, lounging about.
Me and her go into a room to the left, door open. On the opposite wall of the door is a window in the centre, a mattress on the floor to the right of the window. Me and her lie down there. This mattress is lying width wise. Then we teleport to another mattress across the room, against the wall that the door is, lying lengthwise. There is a knock on the door. An old woman appears. She has a round 'afro' looking, but not type round wispy old people's hairdo. I moved so fast that she did not think that just a split second ago, me and the girl were together.
Then I am in a room. I see someone I knew before. Juan B. But he looks older now, more distinguished. Before, he was a baby fat, blubbery kind of guy.
Then teleport to a beach, this guy Juan is across from me, sitting on a low wooden platform. I am sitting on a wooden platform too. Then there appears his brother Jose to my right, and he is looking older, more distinguished. I knew them 20 years ago when they were in their twenties, they are now in their forties.
Then some girls in bikinis, at a distance, run over. I see that there is going to be much more than one girl to one guy, more like a lot of girls to one guy. I am sitting on a bench at the same beach, ie teleport to a bench a short distance away, on the same beach. That slightly fat girl with brown hair from before is sitting with me, and I am thinking, "Even though I am with this fat girl, I would still like to try some of the thin young girls that are coming over now."
I start walking towards them. A lady asks if I want something to drink, alcohol. I turn around and see a bunch of wine bottles and plastic cups half full of red wine. I say, "Sure, actually come to think of it, no, because I am drunk enough already."
I go to sit on the shore line of the beach, with the waves lapping at my feet. There is a crowd of people. To my left is a group of college students, mostly women, a couple of adults. Then to my right were a bunch of children. They were joking, asking riddles. I knew that they knew that I was a famous director, I remember thinking in that moment, in the midst of the dream, "I know they don't expect me to act out any of my films any more than George Lucas at an amusement park or a beach would be expected to act out scenes from STAR WARS."
Dream Monday April 20, 2009
At a shop looking at something. In the same bin, just over were some ping pong balls. Then teleport away to a mall department store where there are three boxes next to each other. To the right was an escalator. In the middle box was, "Christmas presents for ages 15 to 21 years old." I pull out a present. There is a cellophane wrapped package with a label '40' written on it. In the center is a Santa on a copper coloured lid.
Note: Notice that Jennifer Love Hewitt on the Ghost Whiperer never, ever quotes the ghosts verbatim. That is because this is signifies that she only ever receives a strong telepathic impulse from the ghosts. A ghost would say, "I think about her all the time, she is always in my thoughts, my essence, through this timeless wandering through eternity." "What did he say?" the petitioner asks. Then Jennifer Love Hewitt says, "He misses you."
The Word was God. And the Word was with God. I like to think that this means the difference between telepathy and the spoken word. In a way, telepathy is more exact than the spoken word, but also in a way, telepathy is much less exact than the spoken word, which was perhaps why the spoken word, ie this dimension was created by God. Who else created it?
Telepathy is God's language.
________________________________________________________________
Dream April 23, 2009 from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
At a poetry store, or something. A mother and daughter reading poetry. When it is over, one poem presents itself as a blue and white stocking, another one a red stocking.
Hastings St. An apartment high up above Hastings Street has a ledge and open window. Two people from the now closed Save-On Meats, including the short old guy Louie who owned the store and a fat female employee, walked on the ledge, moving past the open window open to the outside, even though it thinned their path for a bit, and went to the walk in fridge in the room to the left, next to the room I was in. I asked them if they were afraid of heights. They said that they had to do this all the time and was used to it.
I find some ecstacy pills, looking like flat watch batteries, on a sidewallk. I put it in a small white paper bag. There is a Thai child next to me. I say, take these and maybe you can sell them for money for yourself, don't eat them. He goes off and disappears. A second later, he comes back with three tall Thai guys. "Where did you get that ecstacy? Why did you give it to the child?"
At a Church. Strange formed pews, some at perpendicular angles to each other, rather than the usual parallel to each other. My cousin, I am not going to say her name here, because I don't want to send out any signals indicating that I may want to contact her again, because I really don't. Incidentally, I don't really believe that these so called cousins are actually related to me.
Anyways, what's her name tells me to sit over there, at the pews. I sit, and then get mad. "I don't see her very often and now she is giving me orders telling me where to sit?!" I get mad. I am getting out of here!
As I approach the double doors to leave the Church, the sidewalk of Hasting Street just outside, I look in my plastic bag to see that I have all my things. I know the dream will soon be over, and soon, I will be back in Dawson Creek, back in reallife space, rather than the dreamspace I am in now. I was aware of all this at the back of my mind, you see.
Then turn right, walk down the street. I see my friend Mark Roy. He died in May, 2003. In the dream, he is wearing a thin sporty windbreaker jacket, cut up into three large flourescent colour swathes; white, pastel reddish purple, and pastel blue. Mark walks with me, intimating that he wants to do drugs with me just like old times. I remember thinking in my mind that, too bad I don't do still have the bag of ecstacy, because I could get Mark to trade that for some crack, then no, I don't really want to be smoking crack, and I don't exactly want to be talking with Mark, either.
So I start flapping my arms and flying up, remembering that I am pretty good when it comes to flying and astral projection.
Mark says, "That's right, Just start flack, flacking away." Although I think he said, "Yeah, that's right, just start flapping away."
Why do I see Mark the junkie's ghost all the time in my dreams? Yeah, just start flapping away! is something that Mark WOULD say.
Sigh, like people at a restaurant talking about you while you are there, I have had so many ghosts in dreams talk about me in particular my activity of astral flying, that is moving my arms that I am almost nauseated by it. In one dream, a Chinese man smiles and points up, telling me telepathically, without words, to not give up but keep trying to float up. In another dream, a recent dream, a Chinese guy says, about me, "He is swimming, as I am moving my arms in a breaststroke like a green leatherback sea turtle. And as you know, in this dreams Mark says, "Yeah, that's right, just keep flap flapping away." as I move my arms to alight and take flight away from there.
The first dream I had of Mark was in the summer of 2003, a couple of months after he died. I was in Thailand at the time. Mark was at the Royal Bank on Main and Hastings;
Me: Mark, you are alive. And you look well. That means you haven't died.
Mark: That's right.
Me: That means the trip to the hospital wasn't real and I can see you and again like before.
Mark: No......
In another dream, me and Mark, shooting cocaine, sitting at a table.
In another dream, angry in life, angry after death, Mark and I are in a room. There is a mattress on the floor next to an open doorway.
Angry Mark says, "It's under the quilt!!!"
I look and find a white plastic tube about seven inches in circumference and telescoping in one place. It is liquid cocaine, and then there is a leak and water erupts out.
The way Mark said, "It's over there! It's under the quilt!!!" That's classic Mark. Mark Stanley Roy.
________________________________________________________________
Black Prison Dream
Black Prison Dream
Black Prison Dream from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
______________________________________________________
Black Prison Dream from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
______________________________________________________
The Warlock's Hairy Heart
The Warlock's Hairy Heart
From Tales of Beedle The Bard, JK Rowling
The Warlock's Hairy Heart from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
There was once a Prince who lived in a castle. He turned to the Dark Arts and summoned a potion to make him immune to love which he thought made his friends look silly.
"I need a potion to make me immune to love which is work and leads to children and family, which is a hassle."
He drinks down the potion.
One day, two of his servants were talking. One pitied him for, in spite of having wealth, had been unable to attain a bride. The other openly laughed at him.
One day, at a dance, while showing off his moves, he met a fine lady.
He offered to take her downstairs to show her his heart. She thought, how original, not knowing that he was being literal when he said this.
Downstairs, in a box, was his heart which he showed her. It was withered from being away from a human for so long and it had grown hairy because it had acquired a beastly nature.
The lady begged him to put the heart back into his chest.
"But if the heart is in there, that means you don't have a heart?! You should put that heart back where it belongs!"
So he took out a dagger, cut open his chest, and put that heart back in his chest and as soon as he did, because of the beastly nature he had, he killed the woman he was with like a wolf, biting her in the neck. She died.
In a bloody heap, he tried to cut out the beast heart and replace it with the lady's heart of which he had also cut open her chest with a knife and cut out her heart.
That is when the other guests of the party arrived and witnessed this scene.
Albus Dumbledore's notes on The Warlock's Hairy Heart
This story addresses one of the greatest temptations of magic. The quest for invulnerability.
No human has ever escaped some form of injury be it physical, mental or emotional. To hurt is as human to breathe. However, this wizard sees love as a kind of humiliation.
Remember Adalbert Waffling's Fundamental Law of Magic:
Tamper with the deepest mysteries - the source of life, the essence of self - only if prepared for the consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind.
Remember,
my maiden Aunt Honoria once called off a wedding to a man whom she discovered had a hairy heart. It was rumoured however that she caught him fondling horklumps which are pink, bristly mushroom like creatures and why anyone would want to fondle something like that.....
Afterword: Closing credits:
JK Rowling wrote this book in 2007 which she had seven handwritten copies, six of which she had given to friends and the seventh which was eventually auctioned for $2 million dollars.
In 2008, she released the novel for general publication, of which here is a copy!
I bought it at a bookstore about four months ago. I was wondering whether or not to do a cartoon of this, however, looking on YouTube, I saw that a few other people had made some cartoons of Harry Potter, so I thought, then I could do one.
narrating closing segment for Warlock's Hairy Heart from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
http://www.vimeo.com/3985979
__________________________________________________
From Tales of Beedle The Bard, JK Rowling
The Warlock's Hairy Heart from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
There was once a Prince who lived in a castle. He turned to the Dark Arts and summoned a potion to make him immune to love which he thought made his friends look silly.
"I need a potion to make me immune to love which is work and leads to children and family, which is a hassle."
He drinks down the potion.
One day, two of his servants were talking. One pitied him for, in spite of having wealth, had been unable to attain a bride. The other openly laughed at him.
One day, at a dance, while showing off his moves, he met a fine lady.
He offered to take her downstairs to show her his heart. She thought, how original, not knowing that he was being literal when he said this.
Downstairs, in a box, was his heart which he showed her. It was withered from being away from a human for so long and it had grown hairy because it had acquired a beastly nature.
The lady begged him to put the heart back into his chest.
"But if the heart is in there, that means you don't have a heart?! You should put that heart back where it belongs!"
So he took out a dagger, cut open his chest, and put that heart back in his chest and as soon as he did, because of the beastly nature he had, he killed the woman he was with like a wolf, biting her in the neck. She died.
In a bloody heap, he tried to cut out the beast heart and replace it with the lady's heart of which he had also cut open her chest with a knife and cut out her heart.
That is when the other guests of the party arrived and witnessed this scene.
Albus Dumbledore's notes on The Warlock's Hairy Heart
This story addresses one of the greatest temptations of magic. The quest for invulnerability.
No human has ever escaped some form of injury be it physical, mental or emotional. To hurt is as human to breathe. However, this wizard sees love as a kind of humiliation.
Remember Adalbert Waffling's Fundamental Law of Magic:
Tamper with the deepest mysteries - the source of life, the essence of self - only if prepared for the consequences of the most extreme and dangerous kind.
Remember,
my maiden Aunt Honoria once called off a wedding to a man whom she discovered had a hairy heart. It was rumoured however that she caught him fondling horklumps which are pink, bristly mushroom like creatures and why anyone would want to fondle something like that.....
Afterword: Closing credits:
JK Rowling wrote this book in 2007 which she had seven handwritten copies, six of which she had given to friends and the seventh which was eventually auctioned for $2 million dollars.
In 2008, she released the novel for general publication, of which here is a copy!
I bought it at a bookstore about four months ago. I was wondering whether or not to do a cartoon of this, however, looking on YouTube, I saw that a few other people had made some cartoons of Harry Potter, so I thought, then I could do one.
narrating closing segment for Warlock's Hairy Heart from Dean Noble on Vimeo.
http://www.vimeo.com/3985979
__________________________________________________
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)