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There's this game. personhead Green Knight and personhead Autopope have done it, and while it's puzzling as all hell to me why people would invent such a thing and pass it on, I was interested enough to read their answers. What's puzzling to me is that the statements you're supposed to do a true-false on are so random that they're not revealing at all, so why? I suspect that if the statements werem't random they wouldn't be generic enough to apss around the whole of live journal or whatever artifically-defined community is the target. Anyway, one of them jogged a memory: somethign to the extent that "I often have no idea where I parked my car."
And I remembered that this morning I had the ultimate lost-parked-car dream. In the dream I had gone downtown (though it was actually downtown San Jose, except that being a dream it didn't look all that much like downtown San Jose, except for the light rail line and the trees in that particular youthful state) and I forget what I had done there, but I was there all day and wandered all around. Now, the place I thought I had parked my car in was a doughnut-shaped parking lot surrounding a park like St. James Park, with a line of buildings around it like downtown San Jose used to be -- late nineteenth-century/ early twentieth-century commercial architecture, three stories or so, dingy apartments above and skin-of-the-teeth shops below. Lots of stale tobacco smell and grungy walls, right? Shoe shine stands and vaguely sinister but not actually dangerous old guys hanging around.
So I looked for my car until pretty late at night and then I took the light rail home and confessed that I'd lost the car, telling the nice fellow some kind of comforting crap about how it wasn't really lost. You must know that in real life, downtown San Jose is more than thirty miles away and the light rail does not go over the mountain to Santa Cruz, though the Amtrak bus does.
And then I went back early the next day and searched until late at night and I was calling home nearly in tears asking for something I could do to page my car, so to speak. I was asking all around about the car -- I'm not sure whether I was using its license plate number or not.
I'm thinking this is an opening for a Stross-like adventure story in which the car turns out to have been appropriated by a mysterious entity either because it contains a mcguffin or because it is a mcguffin (secretly invested with advanced tech, or magic, or something). Oh. It's the beginning of a Route Zero story. Like "A and A Salvage" only probably with guns and crap.
And I remembered that this morning I had the ultimate lost-parked-car dream. In the dream I had gone downtown (though it was actually downtown San Jose, except that being a dream it didn't look all that much like downtown San Jose, except for the light rail line and the trees in that particular youthful state) and I forget what I had done there, but I was there all day and wandered all around. Now, the place I thought I had parked my car in was a doughnut-shaped parking lot surrounding a park like St. James Park, with a line of buildings around it like downtown San Jose used to be -- late nineteenth-century/ early twentieth-century commercial architecture, three stories or so, dingy apartments above and skin-of-the-teeth shops below. Lots of stale tobacco smell and grungy walls, right? Shoe shine stands and vaguely sinister but not actually dangerous old guys hanging around.
So I looked for my car until pretty late at night and then I took the light rail home and confessed that I'd lost the car, telling the nice fellow some kind of comforting crap about how it wasn't really lost. You must know that in real life, downtown San Jose is more than thirty miles away and the light rail does not go over the mountain to Santa Cruz, though the Amtrak bus does.
And then I went back early the next day and searched until late at night and I was calling home nearly in tears asking for something I could do to page my car, so to speak. I was asking all around about the car -- I'm not sure whether I was using its license plate number or not.
I'm thinking this is an opening for a Stross-like adventure story in which the car turns out to have been appropriated by a mysterious entity either because it contains a mcguffin or because it is a mcguffin (secretly invested with advanced tech, or magic, or something). Oh. It's the beginning of a Route Zero story. Like "A and A Salvage" only probably with guns and crap.
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The "personhead" thing was supposed to be a placeholder so I could go look up the code. I can't seem to memorize it.
The other thing -- the reason the game reminded me of the dream, which I forgot to say, was that one of the statements was something about not knowing where the car was parked. (which I believe is symptomatic of living in the city).