dreamstate writing 16 June 2017

I was in a house that was in the process of being renovated. With me were people I knew well. We talked for a long time, the people and I, whilst sitting cross-legged in a circle in one of the nearly finished rooms. The others and I were wearing tan colored ankle-length robes of some kind. The room had many windows, it was brightly lit, and its walls were painted white.

After our talk was finished we stood up for to have a stretch, whereupon I for some reason entered a smaller neighboring room, to change clothes or just have a look around. The room was empty but for a floor lamp burning a standard incandescent bulb that cast a yellow light. The room had wooden parquet flooring, wooden panels that covered the walls to hip-height, and dark green paint, above. Someone entered the room behind me and I had the feeling I wasn’t supposed to be in there.

When I turned around to leave I saw that a square section of the roof above the green-walled room had been crudely sawed away, leaving a yawning gap that someone had tried to cover with a blue tarpaulin of some sort. Knowing I could mend it better, I went to a closet where supplies for fixing such a hole were kept, gathering up a ladder, hammer and nails, a square piece of plywood, some fiberglass insulation board, as well as roofing shingles and metal flashing. As I was removing the blue tarpaulin I discovered it was instead a heavy-duty Manduka yoga mat I had once owned. The mat was thinner than I remembered and smelled of ozone and heat, however, having sat under the hot sun for so long. I started shoving insulation into the gap and installing bridge-beams to carry the plywood and replacement asphalt shingles, which I had to wedge up under the existing clay tiles. 

americanifesto / JPR / whorphan / 場黑

Tuesday morning’s dream

I was again in a house, but this one had lots of windows as well as blond beams of wood exposed to a bright blue sky above. Its roof was gone in places although I was confident in the structure’s overall integrity. I’d gotten to the house after climbing a steep hill, meaning that I had been climbing a steep hill and then found myself inside the house. Unlike in previous dreams, the house was not too scary, dark, or replete with series of ever-smaller doors I felt compelled to crawl through until I was squeezed in so tightly I could not move. I experienced the sensation that the house was moving or rolling as if floating on high seas. For some reason, I climbed up onto the roof, discovering it was a hybrid between hill and house. A Buddhist temple and other shrines stood on the roof’s peak, and as I was walking along it I wondered where the hill had gotten to. To my left were other buildings, a quaint town constructed in a medieval European style. To my right was the hill, an impossibly steep mountain shrouded in mist. I was running past the temple toward the shrines at the roof’s far end when I awoke back into full consciousness.

© JPR / whorphan / americanifesto / 場黑麥

Mobility-Oriented-Housing-Design - MOHD

  Have you ever had to choose between a great job and a great apartment? Have you ever wanted to just uproot your crib and truck it to a different city? Have you ever clawed your way out of a mobile home while it was being dragged along by a raging and swollen river?

  The new MOHD series from Maison Modular & Mobil* will let you watch out your living-room window without trepidation as the tsunami rips the surrounding structures to pieces. This advanced product allows you to replace your home's roof in a single afternoon; it grants you the freedom to move to any city that has parking spaces and to bring your entire household with you, immediately. The Mobility-Oriented-Housing-Design (MOHD) unit fits in a standard parking space, yet inside it is big enough to seat eight people comfortably. The unit is anchored to a bolt in the ground via a thick steel cable that is accessible only to the inhabitant via a floor hatch (this makes it difficult to move MOHDs unnoticed). Each unit fits onto any but the smallest flat-beds, and its underside-mounted wheels allow it to be towed (albeit slowly).

  The exterior and interior panels (which can be customized in most any way imaginable) of the MOHD are prefabricated in an ecologically sustainable process. At the core of each panel is sandwiched a mesh-like weave of circuitry that is meant to interrupt electronic surveillance. (This mesh does not interfere with the unit's built-in Wi-fi router, or with its send-and-receive capabilities.) The panels are attached to the structural framework in such a way as to form a tight enough seal that, if the doors and windows are too sealed properly, the airtight unit can sustain life while submerged fully (or at least until the fuel cells run out, because air is being pumped in via a semi-rigid, floating snorkel mounted to the roof).

  Conceived for the urban working individual who wants to save time looking for apartments and money on home-repairs, the staff at most home improvement centers is trained to replace or repair MOHD panels quickly and inexpensively; furthermore, the panels are easy to replace at home using a few simple tools. The septic system of the MOHD includes wastewater recapture-and-reuse and a high quality methane-for-fuel scrubber/extractor. Furniture in a variety of styles and shades is available for purchase from individually-operated designers. MOHD units are designed to connect to one another, so you can create a maze-like warren all your own in the unused section of your local strip-mall. (The standard MOHD design resembles in appearance a loaf of bread with a rounded top and corners.) Inconspicuous (most designs) and intrusion-resistant (all designs), each unit has mount-ready external hard-points for attaching cameras (or mini-guns).

  The MOHD is the complete package: it is low in price and it floats, it is partially self-sustaining (with necessary roof-garden and solar/wind upgrades) and simple to relocate, it is easy to repair and to upgrade, and it looks bad-ass sitting in the gloomy section of the cluster of abandoned stores down the street. Buy a MOHD, and never hunt for an apartment, die in a tsunami, fall victim to vagrants, or watch your house get towed, ever again. At select retailers.

*(MM&M llc.)