윤

Physical infirmity nowadays punishes my every exertion, but occasionally I overcome my self-debasement in my dreams and get to be a badass. The other morning I was a leader among an army of monstrous criminals and degenerates living in a post-apocalyptic underground bunker. (Think Mad Max or 北斗の拳, though I described it upon waking as being dressed like a cowboy.) There was a slit of light on a ledge twice my height but I easily leapt onto it from the sandy floor and passed through to the bright outdoors, which I learned was on a rocky moving island. Exploring further, I encountered a settlement of young, mostly naked Asians, who took little notice of me as I swam by and saw a montage of their cultural history, including a teaching moment with Chinese characters 安娜 being placed on a 바둑 board that made me realize I belonged. When I looked back, however, I noticed that a group of my former brethren had breached their confinement, so I intercepted and easily overpowered them. My new friends confined the motley creatures to shelves and put them on trial, while I kept order by spearing anyone who got rowdy with a red ballpoint.

This familiar setting always takes me back to the titular movie, which Chris reminds me our mother actually took us to see at a theater, maybe because she was in her thirties and the target audience of Richard Harris pushing 50, but it left such an impression I’m still dreaming about being as lucky with the tawny-haired ladies as he was at the same age. In another couple of years we would’ve been truly scared shitless by these guys instead of those homeless unhoused-looking derelicts that prove their outlook on the future back then wasn’t too far off.

Tagged end of the world, exercise, movies