An occasional feature of my dreamworld is the appearance of a nonsensical word or phrase which – within the dream – takes on huge, if intangible, significance. Previous dreams have revealed to me the crucial importance of Bomba, the Glove of Ib, and the startling yet compelling realisation that my milieu is that of Dr Ludwig. All these things are of great import until I awake, at which point their utter stupidity becomes apparent.
The latest manifestation occurred a few nights ago, when I was made aware of the ancient chivalric code of Eel Zzub. By following the precepts of Eel Zzub, I would become a person of great honour and probity. The fact that such precepts were not in any way made clear in the dream was irrelevant. Eel Zzub was the way to go – at least until I woke up.
I would add two points, which may or may not be pertinent. First, it was resoundingly clear, in the dream, that the Eel of Eel Zzub was nothing whatsoever to do with eels. Second, in my waking state I could not help but recall that Zzub Books was a wholly fictitious publisher of slim volumes of twee verse, invented by Ed Baxter and listed in one of the Small Press Yearbooks circa 1990.
Beelzebub, buzzing backwards.