He was in this dream I had. Witness:
My friend John Piacquadio wanted to make some gonzo documentary about homeless people, but every time he found some to talk to they freaked out and tried to fight him. He called upon me for help; apparently, I’m some great homeless negotiator. We got into an SUV with his mother and started driving around our hometown in Connecticut. Unfortunately, I became totally preoccupied with a newly discovered version of Star Wars—one that predated the original 1977 release—which was showing on a giant drive-in movie theater screen next to some soccer field we parked near (the field was also adjacent to secret homeless ceremonial grounds).
The version of Star Wars in my dream was an entirely different movie. Same characters, same premise, I think, but completely different. It looked like it was filmed with a television camera. The opening scene saw Darth Vader chasing Luke Skywalker through the Death Star Three Stooges-style, firing an insane amount of lasers that Luke somehow avoided. There was one long shot from the perspective of looking over Luke’s shoulder in which Vader, obviously just trying to fuck with Luke’s mind, starts walking like George Jefferson. This shot seemed to go on forever. It was at least three minutes long.
The action then cut to the Death Star galley (which was more or less just some person’s kitchen from the 1970s). Don Rickles was there, cutting up, when someone suddenly threw a bowl of pudding at him. After a long take to the camera, Rickles retaliated and a food fight broke out. Around this time, someone walked past me and commented on how surprising it was that none of this made the final cut. That’s saying a mouthful.
I don’t think much happened with the homeless documentary after that. John and I watched a group of them standing in a shallow swimming pool for a while, and then I woke up. It should come as no surprise that the events of this dream left me curiously aroused.