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  Ultima Online and Stormy Weather  Dreamt: Feb 17 2005
  Origins of Ultima Online.

Was with my dad in a great distant city. One of the expensive ones. Sleeping in a hotel. I was rather hungry.

Chris Brown, his mother, and his grandmother were all living in a house. Chris asked me to turn on the television so I turn the television on. But find out 2 minutes later he is in another room watching TV.

Go to the kitchen with the hope of making something to eat. There are sorts of fish meat strewn about.

My Dad says, “She bought a TaskMaster” (Ultima game sword) on E-Bay. My dad’s tone relegated purchasing electronic goods to heresy. Think to myself, “hope she didn’t pay more than 7$ for it.” And, heck, if she joined a guild they would give her a taskmaster.

Well, open dad’s laptop and try to show him the beginning of an Ultima Game with a brand new character.

ULTIMA:
In CharlesLand Ultima begin in a room. Inside a box. Your avatar is fully armored for battle.
I think quickly to myself.
“You lose the armor really quickly” (before you leave the room). Thinking to self, “I know you are supposed to put a bunch of items on this table to activate the door and leave the first room.
The reason you start in a strange box is that you have to “start somewhere.”

Outside the door there are people named, “Harnous ‘the Deceiver’” Harnous is another Ultima Online player. But, while a young character veteran characters have titles to warning you that veteran players can be wicked. And, this also encourages you to learn things on your own.

Convince myself I’m bored. Tell my Dad, “Haven’t made a new character in 5 years and it’s hard for me.” Honestly, I just didn’t know how to get out of the first room room.



My REAL Room.

Returned to my real room:
Picked up my old notebook from behind the mattress in the corner. It had old notes I had written in this journal. I could make out words but as Tommy suggests reading is impossible dreaming, but we make some excuse. There was a hockey stick next to the mattress as well.


Looking around the room is a doorway with a single Ring latch.
“It was a secret doorway”, I thought to myself. Pulled the ring and went inside.

Passed through the door, climbed a few winding stairs and ended up in the room next door. This was my Dad’s room.

Decide not to open the ‘secret’ door to his room and descend the stairs, reclosing the secret door in my room closed as quietly as possible.

I turn around and see a table.

On the table is a container. I open it. And inside are Mercury head dimes. I consider they are somewhat valuable and wonder who they belong to. Seeing the other effects on the table like billfold I realize I have mysteriously transported to Dad’s room (after all).



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Jamie and my brothers: Tommy, Aaron, and Eric are in a large field. Winds howl and the sky changes colors like a rainbow. One color changes into another. Like a GrandMaster Chess player I can sense the danger approaching. Head turns to my brothers and her shouting loudly: “Run!”

The sky changed in layers as fast as I type this line. Colors gathered and the winds roared drowning my voice. The formation of these colors gathering into a cylinder is a powerfully awesome thing to witness.

My brothers and Jamie were just ambling about. I shout, “Jamie, you run first, we’ll follow. Go toward the ditch.”

A tornado formed crashing and flailing in random directions on the horizon. If it made a cardinal direction turn one of us would have gotten sucked into it. Being near such a thing is like playing Russian roulette with a 4 sided die. Jamie seemed to lose direction and again I beckoned her to head toward the ditch. The winds had grown quite strong now and she could not hear very well.

By fated chance the tornado did not seem to be heading toward the ditch. I did not believe the ditch would bring safety if the tornado blew over. Moreover that it was the only place which promised any safety on this flat Kansas-like landscape. The dream does not lift with us in safety. But instead leaves us hanging as the tornado has blown off to the left somewhere out of sight possibly to return.
 
 
  Moral/Conclusions:  ...  

 


 


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