November 11, 2002
Some Pointers for Anyone Who Happens to Have my Dream from the Night of November 9, 2002

1. Secret agents for the Imperial People's French Army of the Union are equipped with ordinary street clothes, a black archery kit, and their wits. Good luck!

2. Your immediate superior, who wears a snappy blue uniform in the dream's opening sequence, is a tough-but-fair chap who's known as "Mr. B." Later, you'll recall that in the future he goes on to become none other than Napoleon Bonaparte. It's funny that he seems taller here.

3. It may occur to you that it doesn't make sense that you are working as a secret urban guerilla fighter for the North-and-also-sort-of-France in the Civil War (those damned Rebs are around here somewhere!) in a city that looks suspiciously like 21st-century Cambridge, Massachusetts, but cleaner. Brush that off and get down to work, soldier!

4. The President of the Union will be played in the dream by Law & Order's S. Epatha Merkerson.* She's often seen checking on her troops out on the street, but she doesn't have time for chit-chat.

5. Hey, you were only issued, like, three of those way-cool black arrows. Try not to use them all up in the first five minutes of the dream!

6. The nice family will take you in and hide you, but you'll have to get all the vomit out of your clothes yourself. Try the sink in the bathroom.

7. Trying to figure out why the gutters are all lined with books is just going to be frustrating, because no one else is interested.

8. An increasing awareness of the need to attend to nature's call may interfere, as the dream progresses, with your sense of duty to the Imperial People's French Army of the Union. It's my belief that your unofficial resignation from the service will be acceptable to Mr. B. But maybe he's waiting, in another dream, with a very disappointed President Merkerson, at your court-martial for desertion. I guess you just have to take your chances.


*more familiar to some as Reba the Mail Lady.

Posted by BT at November 11, 2002 01:06 AM
Comments

My god. Somebody lock this man up.

Posted by: Gavin on November 11, 2002 10:14 AM

You know how when people tell you their dreams they aren't ever funny? This is the great exception that proves the rule. This rocks.

Posted by: goneill on November 11, 2002 10:45 AM

Feelin' that upcoming birthday, BT?

Posted by: bootsy on November 11, 2002 11:00 AM

And tell me, does _anyone_ know the gutters are lined with books? Anyone? Bueller?

Posted by: Garthmeister J on November 11, 2002 06:35 PM

Ah, of course that is "know _why_ the gutters are lined with books". Damned missing words!

Posted by: Garthmeister J on November 11, 2002 06:36 PM

Isn't it obvious that the gutters are lined with books because literature is the first casualty of war?

This is what comes of having hard tack and corn liquor for dinner.

Bonne anniversaire! Vive BT!

Posted by: Jonathan on November 12, 2002 02:31 PM