First there was Westworld.
When I was little, one of the scariest movies I saw was Westworld.
In Westworld, rich people pay to go to a park where they can experience the wild west back in the glorious days of shoot outs. By day, they wonder the streets and drink in saloons with robots who are amazingly lifelike. By night, they sleep in the brothel with robotic ladies.
Occasionally, they might have to dish out a little western justice to a robot using their real sidearm. Of course, the robots always lose.
Until, there’s a problem.
The robots not only start defending themselves, but the baddest robot of them all, a dirty gunslinger, goes on a killing spree. And he rarely misses. He’s a robot.
As with most good horror movies, few survive. As with most good robot-gone-wild stories, none of their technician masters survive.
And then came Futureworld.
The amusement park entreprenuers of Westworld did learn their lesson: These robots look a heck of a lot like real people. Why not replace real, powerful people with robots and take over the world?
The idea of being killed by the robot who looks just like you is a scary one to a little kid. Okay, that idea and the movie itself still creep me out.
So, I had this dream tonight.
It starts out innocently enough. I am an extra in a huge magic act of some sort on stage at the Tulsa Performing Arts Center in Tulsa, Oklahoma. There are dozens of us and all we have to do is follow directions during the act.
I’m following directions, lining up here and going there and watching the act continue from the back of the stage. We’re dressed like a bunch of British Redcoats from the late 18th century.
Something happens and the trick runs long or something and they cancel it in the middle. I receive a printout of a webpage telling me where I can apply to be a regular extra. “Cool,” I thought.
So, I start to make my way out of the theater through the back stage area.
Only, the back stage area is huge and looks a whole lot like some of the back stage areas at Futureworld. There are bunches of regular looking back stage equipment — equipment control boards for motorized winches, lighting, etc.
There are also several teams of robots in training.
These robots looked just like Honda ASIMO robots, which are real, only in my dream these puppies were agile and fast and smart and, I’m sure, evil.
The sneaky bastards in the Tulsa theater community were going to replace real actors with Honda technology. Japanese steel (and Singaporean electronics) were going to downsize Tulsa sweat and blood.
Apparently, I saw too much.
Someone noticed me and sent one of the robots after me.
So there was a chase scene.
I ran one way and the robot would follow on the other side of the work floor. Between us was a row of equipment and set pieces.
I would duck down and double back, but the robot was too smart for preteen tactics.
I made a run for the exit.
The exit from the backstage area at the Tulsa Performing Arts Center is apparently a huge open area like the lobby of the Bank of Oklahoma Tower in downtown Tulsa.
As I got closer to the exit, I noticed I had lost the evil Honda man of metal.
But there was a new problem.
There were two little people, human dwarfs, running from the doorway toward me. They ran with the same weird leg movements as the robots, and their shoes made the same squeaky sounds on the polished concrete floor as the robots, and I assumed they had the same killer intension as the robots, controlled by the same evil masters as the robots.
What is going to become of me? I’m going to die at the tiny hands of two dwarfs with squeaky shoes?!
Speaking of squeaky shoes.
Did you see the episode of Cheers where Cliff sells everyone the same excellent, comfortable shoes that the professional carriers of the United States Postal Service wear?
If you haven’t seen this scene, you just have to see it. This is a YouTube clip: http://bit.ly/1aab9D
Okay, so I’m headed for the door and two little people, maybe human, maybe robotic, are squeaking to intercept me!
They ran on by me. Apparently I was not properly identified, or there was some other pressing issue, or they just weren’t involved. Maybe they just had squeaky shoes.
Once I was outside, I woke up. And I was a little freaked out.
What to do when you have a bad dream.
This is actually an anger management technique, but it works for fear because many of the same chemical processes in your brain are at play. Much of the discomfort you feel during fear is the fight or flight response — your heart beats fast, you’re unable to think clearly, etc.
You take four really deep breaths.
You go outside.
You look around.
You tell yourself what you’re seeing, what you’re hearing, and what you’re smelling. You speak out loud so your mouth is moving and your ears are hearing.
You continue this for a few minutes.
Eventually, you’ll stop thinking about the thing that scared you (or made you mad) and you’ll calm down.
I see the moon. I see clouds before the moon. I hear the crickets. I smell the grass.
Yes.
Damn robots.
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