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October 29th, Friday morning
I was in a lodge with a second floor balcony on the left of me and a large
picture windows and fireplace on my right. There was dinner or cocktail party
going on, and the room was decorated. I was holding a woman's hand, and we were doing some
sort of Fellini love dance, and she asked me if I had been seeing anyone. I said
no, and then I asked her the same question, and she answered the same. Then
she introduced me to two men who she said she were her brothers, but they weren't really her brothers. Both of
them were kind of short and geeky. And for some strange reason, I thought one
of them was named Brie. So there I was, shaking the hand of one of her
supposed brothers saying, "Oh, so you're Brie, I'm so glad to finally meet you,"
when he goes, "But, I am not Brie." So I turn to the other brother and see that
he's dressed in a ballet tutu and is doing pirouettes around the room. I grab him
by his tutu and ask him if he's Brie. Indignantly, with his nose in the air, he says,
"I am certainly not Brie." While all this is going on, there's a sorority girl
running around with a chunk of gouda cheese, hitting everyone on the butt with
it. So I ask her "Are you Brie?" and she says, "No, I'm Camembert."
June 5th, Tuesday morning
I dreamt I was a deck hand on a Mexican fishing boat anchored in
the middle of the bay. I was feeding rope to Lynn, who was
dressed in a very nice blouse and bow ensemble with matching heels.
While reaching down for more rope, I lost my footing and tumbled off the
side, dragging Lynn in behind me. When we resurfaced, the boat had
suddenly changed into a child's bathtup toy. For some reason, I was
thinking all it needed were new batteries and sent Lynn off swimming to
go find some. As she swam away, I yelled to her to make sure they
were D-cell batteries, that way the little light on top of the boat
would work too. As I floated in the water, I realized I was
expecting a phone call from Lisa, who was supposed to be on the boat.
I had originally backstroked my way to the boat wearing a skull cap and
scuba jacket borrowed from a little girl that I was babysitting on the
beach. The girl was one of many kids in cribs scattered amongst the
sand dunes that I was supposedly keeping watch over. A TV news
announcer floated by on a buoy doing a live report on how kids should
watch themselves. A dinghy floated nearby, and both I and the news
announcer jump in. As it floated towards shore, the announcer told me
that business was bad on the beach -- the concession stand only had
three customers today. The beach in the distance was very narrow, with
tall mountains rising behind it, shrouded with fog. Looking at my
watch, it read 9:27 pm.
June 22nd, Saturday morning
I follow a large group of people to a building with a courtyard on campus. I refer
to it as the Beaux Arts Building or B.A. Hall, for short. I walk into the
auditorium with another person and I sit down in the front row. I am about to
take a final. I concentrate and realize that I have to pay extra attention so I don’t
fail the test, like I did art history. The lecturer introduces the problem and I
furiously scribble down my notes. Then the test begins. Instead of slides, were
shown a movie. The first image is of a young man who vaguely looks like me,
laying on a bed of mud in a very dark, black and white jungle setting. The trees,
though, look like line drawings. I roll around in the ‘mud’ but don’t get dirty. I
am saying something ‘heroic’ to the assembled tribesmen, who are dressed in
white robes and KKK hoods. Suddenly, a man enters stage right with a large Y-
shaped wooden club. He is old, wrinkled and dressed in overalls. Out of the side
of his mouth dangles a corn-cob pipe. He raises the club with both hands above
his head, and brings it down in a huge motion onto the young man’s head. The
young man tries to roll away, but with his hands tied behind his back, all he can
do is wiggle around the mud patch. The old man follows, beating him with the
stick.in a slow, deliberate motion. Suddenly, the point of view moves backward.
I watch as the landscape changes quickly. First I pass under a bridge spanning a
river. Its still dark and the images look like night pictures. I continue to travel
backwards, now crossing a river. The scenery is filled with industrial
architecture - bridges, factories, siloes, gentry cranes. I look down and I see
railroad tracks, though I am not on a train, just floating backwards above the
track.. I look left and in the distance, an eerie sun begins to turn the night into
reddish and purplish hues. I then come to the outskirts of a city, and the tracks
separate, one set peels off and goes up a berm. There is a sign at the base of the
slope. -- it says on it ‘Its like telling the Donner Party to stay away from the
McNuggets” The movie ends, and I feel I finally understand some great truth. I
turn to the person next to me to talk about the meaning of the sign. It is the old
man with the club. He begins to write down my thoughts. I feel fufilled.
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