[Thor Joachim Haga]

#3:

“I also remember a dream, in which I was back in my high school days, practising with the local teen choir. Then suddenly, out of nowhere came Jerry Goldsmith and started conducting. His facial expression was kind of wild, and as he eventually stepped up on the scene, he started lashing out atonal harmonies on the keyboard, while simultaneously banging his ponytailed hair and waving his arms ferociously. Sort of a maniac version of Jean Michel Jarre.

Later I found out that he had locked his wife into a closet on the first floor, and as the poor woman was helped out, she stuttered:

– “Oh, that’s ok. He does that all the time!”

#4:

“The first dream starts in some european city (Prague or Paris, don’t remember). As a tourist, I’m trodding about aimlessly. Suddenly I find myself on the town square. It’s only me and a handful of other people. The entire square is sealed off and there are literally hundreds of people standing outside the perimeters, pushing the fences. I am one of the lucky few of something, obviously. Soon I see Elfman standing in the middle of the little crowd in front of me. I join them. Elfman is dressed in a dark training suit with a marathon number attached to his chest. Suddenly all the members of the little crowd wears one too. With a sudden burst, Elfman takes off and runs like hell down the street with the 12somewhat-membered crowd (the disiples?) in pursuit, me included. I remember running as fast as I possibly could, yet it was very hard to keep up with Danny. Suddenly we all enter a small record store. Elfman, sweating like a madman, is hurrying through the aisles, picking up soundtracks and CD’s faster than a predator. I am very keen on looking through the CD shelves myself (noticing a surprisingly good score selection), but there is no time. As soon as he has arrived, Elfman is out the door again, with the crowd on his heels. The last thing I remember was myself running across a lawn trying to catch up, but futile. Elfman & the crowd turn the corner and are gone….

The first flash from my second, more recent dream sees myself lying flat on the stomach on the back of a dirty old lorry, all dressed in army outfit and with my rifle digging its way into my hip (I’m back in the military service again, obviously). There are at least 4 or 5 other military guys lying around me, all with their helmet-covered heads down so as not be seen above the lorry “fence” (you know what I mean?). There are distant sounds of bombs falling.

The guy next to me lifts his head. It’s Danny Elfman, his redlit hair curling its way out of the helmet.

– “Hi! You’re Danny Elfman, right?” I say

– “Yes?”

– “Wow, I just love your work!”

– “You do? What part?”

– “The film scores. Boingo. Everything”.

– “Really? Why, thank you. What’s your name?”

At that moment, a giant fireball swishes by, and we throw our heads down.

The second flash sees myself running around in a weird, pipe-structured airport. I enter one door and come out at the complete opposite of the terminal, and have to go all around the airport to start over. I am chasing Elfman again, a sort of continuation of the first dream, perhaps. Elfman, just ahead of me, enters a door, yet when I follow him through, he vanishes. This continues in a nightmarish fashion.”