My Subconscious Decides to Make A Superfluous Point

Last night I dreamt I lived in a steampunk version of Victorian England that would have been cool in and of itself, but my nightly excursion was evidently not for my own enjoyment, but to teach me a bully pulpit message with all the subtlety of a baseball bat.

Yes, I could have wandered a steampunk vision of Victorian England, but why should I have any fun? So points to Carl Jung and let us continue.

And a warning to special snowflakes. This post is politically incorrect and gravid with triggers. Proceed at your own caution.

I dreamt that in this fascinating world, a lecturer had made himself famous by setting forth some rather odd and stringent rules about diet. Because his theories were so nebulous, I decided to attend one of his lectures just to hear what the man had to say for himself.

I traveled to the hotel where he was lecturing to discover he and his followers had basically taken the establishment over and were in the process of turning it into a commune.

The place was packed with humanity and I did not realize at first the audience was completely composed of women and children. Not only were there no adult men present, I was the only adult man present.

As I wandered among the crowd, I was basically ignored, but there were two middle aged women off by themselves and I took it upon myself to strike up a conversation. "I look forward to the doctor's lecture," I said.

The two ladies rolled their eyes at each other and one with a voice dripping with contempt said to her companion, "Oh, he wants to hear the doctor's lecture."

"Well," I said, determined to remain civil, "What word would you use instead?"

"Yes," the other woman said to her companion, pointedly ignoring me, "he wants to hear the doctor's speech."

The other woman snickered. "Yes, he wants to hear the doctor's talk."

Turning my back on them, I walked away to discover there was to be a communal breakfast so I wandered into the dining room. With at least two hundred women and children in attendance, I took my place at the first seat at one of the tables.

A large platter of blueberry pancakes, a carafe of syrup, and a large bowl of butter was placed in front of me, but before I could help myself, the child sitting next to me, grabbed the food, took his share, and passed everything on. I stared as the child wolfed down his food as fast as he could, barely pausing to chew, and then saw to my surprise everybody following suit. I learned that one of the doctor's dietary rules was to serve yourself and eat as rapidly as possible. Within a few scant minutes everybody in the room had gobbled down their food and were leaving to go to the lecture room.

I walked down to the end of the table to see if there might be any food left, but the leftovers were so filthy and in such terrible shape, nothing edible could be saved.

I turned to discover that a group of young girls had gathered behind me. "We don't need you," the one child said, her voice dripping with contempt.

"Yes," said another. "I am never getting married."

"No?" I asked in some surprise. "Never?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "No need. Say a man asked me out on a golfing date? After dinner and playing a few holes, it's 'piff, poff, poof'' and I'm done."

I was shocked to hear that from a young girl barely 8 years old. "And then you just move onto another?" But her response was lost when the phone beside my bed rang to wake me from a sound sleep.

When I hung up the phone, I mused about the oddity of my dream, a world marked by wanton promiscuity and weird theories where the 'old ways' were held in contempt for momentary trends, where youthful innocence was destroyed as soon as possible, and where immediate pleasure was prized over commitment.

I am so very glad I don't live in a world like that today.