I Had a Dream [Jan 8, 2003]

Last night I had the most profound dream. Below is the transcript.

The dream took place in my elementary school cafeteria. Despite the fact that it looked like the sporting goods department at Target, it was my elementary school cafeteria. A mysterious figure of uncertain gender and race approached me from behind the cookie table/golf-ball rack.

Me: Hello.

Mysterious Figure of Uncertain Gender and Race: You can't make an egg without breaking a few omelets, my boy.

Me: Pardon?

MFUGR: Matthew Tobey?

Me: Never heard of him.

MFUGR: Matthew Tobey of Haypenny? The same Matthew Tobey who's presently blowing the lid off the shit-can of terrorism as guest-blogger on Neal Pollack’s The Maelstrom?

Me: Listen, Mac. How'd you get in here? This is an unlisted cafeteria.

MFUGR: Let's just say I'm the pot stopping by to ask the kettle if he's black. Get me?

Me: Come again?

MFUGR: Listen, kid, you're leading the horse to water; don't look him in the mouth.

Me: Horse?

MFUGR: Are hearing anything I'm saying, son?

Me: I'm hearing words, yes, but I'm afraid the order your saying them in isn't resonating in the form of any discernable message.

MFUGR: Jesus H. Cricket! Did you see Catch Me if You Can?

Me: Yes, I thought it was a fun-filled romp with Leo in a role he was born to play.

MFUGR: Didn't you think it dragged a bit toward the end?

Me: I suppose, but that’s Spielberg’s trademark now. I’ve grown to expect and love it. Wait a second; what does this have to do with the war on terror?

MFUGR: What doesn’t it have to do with the war on terror?

Me: Now you’re just being enigmatic for the sake of being enigmatic.

MFUGR: Or maybe I’m being enigmatic for the sake of not being enigmatic. Or perhaps, just perhaps, I’m simply here to offer you an incredible deal on this tuxedo with the phrase “Ass, Cash or Gas, No One Rides For Free” airbrushed on the left pant-leg.

Me: Is this a dream?

MFUGR: Typically, with an offer like this you’d probably be dreaming, but I’m overstocked and looking to liquidate so I can pay for my refrigerator’s lung-transplant.

Me: While I’m thoroughly disappointed that I haven’t garnered any deep, dark gossip about global terrorism, you, sir or madam, have yourself a deal.

At that point I suddenly found myself transported to the top of the Empire State Building, in the throes of passion with House Minority Leader Nancy Pelosi, as we engaged in the sweetest, most tender “Cincinnati Mudslide” history has ever seen.

While I’d planned to warn against another terror group today, I felt a need and urgency to illustrate the incredible leaps and bounds that have been made in digital dream recording. I’m sure you understand. The future is now, boys and girls. The future is now!

If you think that’s amazing, you ought to check out this so-called electronic-mail everyone’s buzzing about. After that, be sure to buy your mother a copy of Neal Pollack’s Beneath the Axis of Evil: One Man's Journey Into the Horrors of War and have a look at Haypenny.