The Aerie
Hell of a dream last night.
I woke up from one of those dreams which seems so significant. An
important dream, with a profound message that will change everything.
Most interesting of all, I had had this profound insight into the
psychology of Batman... so at 3:45 in the morning I scribbled it
down.
I dreamt I was fighting Batman, and also Joker. I surprised myself
with my own ending.
I was in an apartment ten stories up, a big old-fashioned apartment
with sash windows and wood trim that had been painted over. I fought
Joker until I pushed him out the window.
Meanwhile some of his henchmen were trying to get in, climbing up big
ladders to the window. I ruthlessly pushed the ladder away, and saw
the henchman -- a muscular blond-haired fellow -- tip backwards on his
ladder and smash against the roof of another building.
Meanwhile Batman arrived, because even if my opponent was the Joker I
wasn't supposed to be throwing people out of tenth-story windows. We
fought for a while, while tried to convince Batman I was one of the
good-guys.
During the conversation I told him that Joker was not even hurt, that
he was probably waiting right outside the window for Batman to leave
before he attacked me again. So saying I dashed to the window, and
poked my head out. There was Joker waiting on the window-ledge,
pressed up against the building, holding a gun. I reached out
quickly, pushed on the back of his knee, and he fell ten stories
again, screaming.
That was enough for Batman, who rushed me. I whirled and threw him
out the window, too.
Having vanquished all my foes and secured my position, I went down to
the street. Joker was waiting and attempted to attack me.
I evaded him and dodged his blows and tried to convince him to stop,
telling him that Batman would soon arrive. Then I saw Batman hiding
in a doorway where Joker could not see him. Batman was angry with me,
but knew Joker had to be stopped, so he handed me a Bat-gun a
crescent-shaped bat which you held with the top curved back towards
you. It had a lever dropping from the top "wing" towards the other
wingtip that one could squeeze.
I held it and pointed it at Joker, who taunted me and Batman with the
cliche that good-guys don't shoot. I fired, and a stream of liquid
squirted him in the chest.
He flinched in surprise and looked down at his wet jacket. I whirled
around and shot Robin in the face as he ran up behind me, only
realizing that my weapon was merely a water pistol at that moment.
However, I caught him in the eyes and he fell to the ground, blinded.
Whirling back around, I squirted the last of the water in Joker's
eyes. His makeup began to wash off and run and he too knelt
screaming, powerless.
I woke up with that "profound" realization. You cannot talk to
Batman. Batman is in his own way as insane as those he fights. The
same rage that they direct against society, he directs against them.
He has redirected the same rage at them for being lawbreakers, but he
is a vigilante, a lawbreaker. He rages against himself. Anything you
might say which might stem his effectiveness he assaults, so he cannot
be comforted and he cannot be healed.
Anyway, that's the profound dream and the profound realization. Much
more banal by the light of day, but pretty complex and interesting for
a dream.