Story by Neville Cole
I am Goat Man
As I write this it is 4am. I am brewing some coffee. The sun won’t be up for hours; but I am.
I have just woken from a lucid dream. I was convinced at first I was not asleep but merely dozing. The dream started when I noticed my bedroom light flash on briefly. That seemed strange but I was too tired to open my eyes fully and see what was going on. Then I sensed a woman crawling into bed behind me. Naturally I wanted to turn and see who this mysterious woman was but I could not open my eyes or move. I suddenly became aware I was dreaming but I was convinced that the woman was still behind me. I told myself to wake up. I had to repeat the command a few times but eventually I did open my eyes and roll over to the sudden realization that I do, in fact, live alone and that I was, in reality, just having a weird dream.
I think I know why this dream happened. Call it a perfect mental storm.
For one, I am still very jet-lagged from a recent flight back from Australia. I have made that flight more than 20 times but for some reason this time I have struggled mightily to get back to my own time zone. I have been up each morning by 4 since I got back. I have been napping at sunset for a few hours and for two nights in a row I have been put right to sleep by Bill Maher. Now, I don’t agree with a lot of what Bill says, but he almost always keeps me engaged and entertained.
Apart from this obvious sleep deprivation, I am currently working through a recurring pattern of obsessive self-doubt and regret that is part and parcel of my bi-annual whirlwind tours of my homeland. Add to my fear and loathing the fact that I am currently reading Jon Ronson’s The Men Who Stare at Goats and it is pretty easy to see what is going on.
Ronson’s book is barely recognizable as the source of the enjoyable motion picture romp of the same name featuring among others Ewan McGregor, Jeff Bridges, George Clooney, and Kevin Spacey. At the beginning of that movie is the warning that “more of this is true than you would believe;” but falling into this brief, rabbit hole tale is mind-bending experience of the tallest order. The Men Who Stare at Goats is like something concocted by Hunter S. Thompson for Rolling Stone. In just over 250 pages, Ronson manages to tie the spoon bending skills of Uri Geller; the Heaven’s Gate cult suicides; the atrocities at Abu Ghraib and Guantanamo Bay, and the popular US military slogan “Be All That You Can Be” back to the new age ideas of one Vietnam-vet-turned-hippie.
Ronson sets up his tale by asking his reader to accept one of four possible scenarios:
1. It just never happened.
2. A couple of crazy renegades in the higher levels of the U.S. Intelligence community acted alone to put these events in motion.
3. U.S Intelligence is the repository of incredible secrets, which are kept from us for our own good. Or…
4. The U.S. Intelligence community was, back then, essentially nuts through and through.
As each page turns these four scenarios shift about in your brain (or just maybe they actually shift your brain about in your head). “No, that didn’t happen. Oh, that makes sense. Oh my god! Why did I never think of that before!”
The title of the book refers specifically to some secret experiments reported to have occurred at the military installation at Fort Bragg, North Carolina. Apparently, a select group of soldiers were trained to kill goats just by staring at them. It’s not clear how many goats, if any, actually died; but the program had enough success that a group of psychic soldier (PsyOps) known as the Earth First Battalion was created. The book suggests this group has been reborn today within the U.S. Department of Homeland Security to help fight the War on Terror.
In the end, it’s not the truth that matters; as whichever scenario you finally accept, the story is still by turns entertaining and harrowing but always thought-provoking. All of which adds up to exactly the wrong kind of book for a highly fatigued and self-doubting individual to read into the early hours, especially on a work night.
Still, as Robert Plant once famously sang: “Ooh, it makes me wonder. Ooh, it makes me wonder.”
You see, I have, for a good part of the last two decades, turned my back on metaphysics and anything even remotely new age. That’s not to say I haven’t had my moments of elevated thought; but, for the most part, I have stayed grounded (and mostly satisfied I might add) in the here and now.
I was raised in the distinctly new age, some say cultish, religion known as Christian Science. Yeah, that’s right, the ones who don’t believe in doctors. As my faith faded, I dabbled, as many ex-CSers do, in Eastern thought, Tao, Zen and Buddhism in particular; but finally, in my early thirties, I resolved to accept that life was indeed a cabaret and decided that I would be a lot happier if I just learned to enjoy the cabaret.
I have been pretty happy and pretty lucky and remarkably healthy ever since. I haven’t wasted much time wondering what it’s all about. I’ve been resigned to fate. I’ve described myself from time to time as a secular humanist, a cynical optimist and an hopeful pessimist. I’ve tried to do my share of good things mostly because it feels good to do so. I’ve noted that, for the most part, when I make the effort to do something that I don’t have to do – especially something creative – well, somehow it seems to work out that I gain something from that effort. I’ve also seen that things I’ve tried to hide or lied about eventually get uncovered. I don’t call this karma. To me, it’s just the way things work.
The only problem is, when you leave things mostly to fate for too long, you tend to feel a little bit out of control and I’ve been growing increasingly tired of that feeling. As a result, I’ve been spending quite a bit of time trying to figure out how to get a little bit more proactive with my existence. I’m tired of doing OK. It would be really nice to excel for a while. Maybe I have fallen down the rabbit hole myself a bit this morning but I have a very real sense that somehow things are about to fall into place.
Yesterday, on a whim, I sent in a headshot and resume to a casting agency and asked them to arrange an audition for an upcoming TV commercial. I could really use the extra cash right now. I also have a long term plan. I would like to return to acting before I am forced to retire and see if I can finally realize my dream of getting a decent role in one really good movie. I am interested to see if I can influence my future in some small way right here, right now. Can I project myself to that audition? Am I able to influence the casting agency from a completely blind call and get myself in front of the director? If I do get the audition, how do I overturn past failures and finally find some success? After all, I gave up acting all those years ago because I was useless at auditions.
But now I am getting ahead of myself. If I’ve learned anything from The Men Who Stare at Goats is that metaphysical projection takes intense focus. I need to start with some baby steps. I can’t kill a goat right out of the box. Let’s see if I can get that audition first. Then I’ll take things from there.
After all, if I can control my dreams, why shouldn’t I be able to control my reality? Isn’t it better to be the man staring at the goat than the goat?

http://www.abc.net.au/news/2011-09-30/two-goats-lead-goodna-mayor-on-chase/3038106
Nev’s been at it again.
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Where else but Goodna ?
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What a way to keep a man employed and earning his honest keep or should I say groats, I mean goat and acting it. Delicious and tantalising regards the goat eventually i suppose!
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Nev, I’ve just sent Hung a picture of you staring at a goat. He may send it along to you, or he may just post it above your yarn. You never can tell with Hung. He’s his own man.
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So Neville, was your cock hard? Just askin
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Warrigal, love the pic. Made my day thanks. Mike is going to post after he wakes up.
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And Hung…ah…nevermind….
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I think you have to be the quintessential, clinically insane, mad doctor to get a job at DARPA. These are the guys that trained dolphins to explode underwater ordinance.
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The first day of my experiment went rather well. I did not get the commercial but within a few hours of getting to my office I did get a call from the casting agency. I met with them the next day and was signed up with a good chance of further work. I also received some very good news about my career which I can’t go into yet until it is made public.
The second day, alas, was not so successful. I came down with a nasty flu which has knocked me out for the past 4 days. So, the experiment continues…
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Well done and… may you get well!
Done!
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Only good goat is a curried goat…
😉
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I’m sure there’s a song in here somewhere.
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Yep, you’re right ‘Goat Man’, from The Blues Brothers.
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I can move cups & saucers if’n I try really hard. I just use my thoughts.
Of course you’re lucky Nev. You can always force people to read 🙂
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You too? I wonder how common this is.
When I was teenager I used to choose what to dream about every night just before I went to sleep. I gave it up eventually because it was just a tad scary thing to do.
When very stressed I have vivid dreams, where I wake up in the middle of a dream and think the dream was real, even though I’m wide awake. When my son was in bad trouble as teenager, I was thinking in bed one night when I remembered that I’d killed someone years earlier, and lay in bed for quite while thinking about whether I should tell my family and how I would do it. Eventually I realised the memory had just been a dream. I had this same dream for about a week and after a while I learnt to recognise that it was that dream again and to shut down the subsequent anxiety fairly quickly.
Don’t know the book.
Your fictitious short stories are seriously good BTW, IMHO.
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While we’re engaging in hypnobabble, allow me to babble about the dreams I had of my father for around two-plus years after his death. The dream appeared almost every night for at least a year and then less frequently after that but just as vividly and just as convincingly -that is to say, I was certain that the dream was totally real while I was dreaming it, and that I was absolutely awake, being part of that dream.
One scenario was that he’d walk into my classroom with a hammer, or a piece of timber, or a saw and tell me that he needed to fix something in the classroom but that he’d be quite and that I should not worry and to go on with my lesson.
The second, more common scenario was that the whole family (including much of the extended part) would be walking up a lovely hill for a picnic. It was something we used to do when I was a kid back in Greece. A lovely hill on the outskirts of Salonica, where we’d fly kites, play ball and open a basket full of food. I have pictures of those days hanging on the walls all around us,
I would be of the current age and we’d all be very happy. I’d ask him how he managed to come back up, to which he’d smile or rather grin that charming grin of his. After a few times of this scenario, I’d have worked out -inside the dream- that he’d appear in my dream every Monday Tuesday and on real life the rest of the week; which brought about the sequence where I’d ask him what day it was!
Extremely vivid dreams. Totally realistic. Full of bright colours and sun light. Amazing stuff for two years. Even now, ten years later, these scenarios appear again, equally as bright and equally as convincing!
The brain is mind-boggling thing!
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But I must admit, there were no goats in any of these dreams. The occasional shot of ouzo, maybe.
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That’s rather nice.
My worst was after a traumatic couple of weeks in Royal North Shore hospital. I spent the final night in a public ward of people in pretty bad shape and I think that was what triggered it. Having coped well in hospital I had serious zombie type nightmares after getting out, about death and decay, and just refused to sleep after a while because they were so horrible. Probably didn’t help that I had been told I had a 50% possibility of relapse within the next 6 months Fortunately it didn’t happen.
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Voice, what a shame that this post will get whisked away. Dreams are but electronic exchanges between the synapses in your brain. You being so intelligent will have lots of meaningless dreams especially the one with the magpie.
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Well, keep having those dreams of women cuddling you in bed from behind. It is better than nothing. Loved your story and hope you’ll get to play a major role soon.
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Better to be a goat staring at a man… or a woman… or another goat, than a goat staring at a man, wielding a long knife and looks like Calchas, though he was more into virgins… Better than being a virgin being stared at…
Lovely story, Nev. Good luck with your metaphysics experiment.
What’s the ad about, Greek souvlaki?
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