Vigorous but scorned Waltham women, eternity, being on the Red Sox, my dad singing like a soul-brother, Erin "making it with me", Linda still pretty
In the dream I saw the busty six foot plus blonde from Frosty's, she was standing there about 20 feet away, and I saw the Myrtle St. girl. And in the dream I was thinking to myself, that these two women are vigorous people.
When I awoke, I was thinking:
This hefty guy has been badmouthing women including these two women, because they are in his eyes women who are not instantaneously spiritually electrifying, and are not women for whom I Hobbs feel an angelic divine passion when I first encounter them. It is a weird situation when vigorous people are scorned; it has to do with this emphasis on productivity per dollar paid, as opposed to productivity per hour, this international free trade. When trade is regulated, people such as these two vigorous persons are valued as workers; when productivity per hour is valued, vigorous people are valued for what they can get done in an hour. But when you have a free trade emphasis on productivity per dollar paid, the vigorous people are disrespected, because some humdrum person in some distant corner of the globe is capable of getting more done in an hour than them. As for them not being instantaneously electrifying, and as for me not feeling some kind of angelic sexual passion for them as soon as I encounter them, generally speaking men are not even supposed to be passionate with women until they are married, and, if everyone who is not born of angelic passion or instantaneously electrifying women is junk unable to enter heaven, then almost everyone is junk unable to enter heaven. True, David felt something special when he saw Bathsheba (mother of Solomon) nude, but that did not mean his other wives and their children were trash.
In another dream, I was explaining to someone, about eternity; I was trying to give him some idea of what eternity is, I was telling him about how when G=1000 years, how eternity is like GxGxGxG. After he began to understand to some extent what eternity is, he came to the realization that I the person he was speaking with is an important legislator.
In another dream, I was playing basketball, concentrating on behind the back moves, footwork, penetration. I was'nt doing that great, I was out of practice. Some guy did'nt realize I was on the Boston Red Sox team, and had a respectable batting average. I was shocked. I could not believe that he did not know that I was on the the Red Sox. When I awoke I was thinking how I after college I realized too late I had developed all this athletic ability too late; I was thinking how I did not have access to the best coaching, good training equipment, parents encouraging me to excel in sports, how I did not realize some persons mature physically later than others, how our society is obsessed with youth; it seemed to me that if you gave me a chance to practice batting against batting machines and pitchers, a chance to practice fielding, even at this late date I would get pretty damned good at it, but would end up being shot down through age discrimination anyway.
Then I had another dream, I could not remember all the segments or the exact order of the segments. My dad was singing a song, he sounded like a raspy soulful black man. I was in the front seat of a car and the other people in the car, my dad and some women, were singing like soulful raspy blacks. These songs sounded great, if I could only remember the words and the melodies when I awoke I would be a big success. For some reason my dad after a while wanted me to leave his group alone and go home. Then I was at Harvard, there were all these irregular concrete blocks and things, making it difficult to get from here to there at Harvard, but I was somehow smoothly sailing over them. Sitting there with these people I saw some women who had had plastic surgery, after the surgery, one side of her face looked normal and the other side looked like a hyper-contrasty photo, the normal side of her face looked mongoloid, wide, with alot of space between the outside of her eyebrow and her ear. When I awoke I was thinking how that kind of face with the space between the eyebrow and the ear is also part of the Alpine look, how the Bible scriptures counsel against cutting the corners of the hair. At some point I saw Erin. Her black hair was pulled back into two braids behind her back, she wore glasses and lots of lipstick that hid the natural lines of her face, she looked like a white Indian (as in Air-India, resembling Erin-dia) her upper body looked thin, her bra minimized her breasts, she wore a dark, I think dark blue T shirt and jeans. She told me she said, "I want to make it with you" (as in that David Gates and Bread song); she said she would meet me a couple of days from now, I think it was Tuesday, from I think it was 8 AM to 11 AM or some such similar time, to "make it with me". She was attending graduate school in Canada. I felt an affection for her that was something other than sexual passion. I guess I am tired of women acting fundamentalist and weird with me, saying they want to marry me before they even have a conversation with me, and then not calling me on the phone or contacting me, and so Erin seemed like a welcome relief.
There were also a few weeks ago some dreams I had I never reported, because I had the flu and felt too sick to bother with reporting them. I'll try to catch up on the especially memorable ones. In one of them, Linda, who I pursued in high school but married someone else, was lying in bed with me, under the covers, by my side. I asked her if she was still pretty, and she said, "yes". As usual I felt moved and impressed by her excellent diction and the dignity and intelligence of her voice. I think this dream had to do with how it seemed that some jewish TV announcer, it seems deceitfully, implied that Linda was no longer pretty (I have'nt seen her in years). I suspect that she's still pretty but hiding behind glasses makeup unglamorous hair colors etc.
When I awoke, I was thinking:
This hefty guy has been badmouthing women including these two women, because they are in his eyes women who are not instantaneously spiritually electrifying, and are not women for whom I Hobbs feel an angelic divine passion when I first encounter them. It is a weird situation when vigorous people are scorned; it has to do with this emphasis on productivity per dollar paid, as opposed to productivity per hour, this international free trade. When trade is regulated, people such as these two vigorous persons are valued as workers; when productivity per hour is valued, vigorous people are valued for what they can get done in an hour. But when you have a free trade emphasis on productivity per dollar paid, the vigorous people are disrespected, because some humdrum person in some distant corner of the globe is capable of getting more done in an hour than them. As for them not being instantaneously electrifying, and as for me not feeling some kind of angelic sexual passion for them as soon as I encounter them, generally speaking men are not even supposed to be passionate with women until they are married, and, if everyone who is not born of angelic passion or instantaneously electrifying women is junk unable to enter heaven, then almost everyone is junk unable to enter heaven. True, David felt something special when he saw Bathsheba (mother of Solomon) nude, but that did not mean his other wives and their children were trash.
In another dream, I was explaining to someone, about eternity; I was trying to give him some idea of what eternity is, I was telling him about how when G=1000 years, how eternity is like GxGxGxG. After he began to understand to some extent what eternity is, he came to the realization that I the person he was speaking with is an important legislator.
In another dream, I was playing basketball, concentrating on behind the back moves, footwork, penetration. I was'nt doing that great, I was out of practice. Some guy did'nt realize I was on the Boston Red Sox team, and had a respectable batting average. I was shocked. I could not believe that he did not know that I was on the the Red Sox. When I awoke I was thinking how I after college I realized too late I had developed all this athletic ability too late; I was thinking how I did not have access to the best coaching, good training equipment, parents encouraging me to excel in sports, how I did not realize some persons mature physically later than others, how our society is obsessed with youth; it seemed to me that if you gave me a chance to practice batting against batting machines and pitchers, a chance to practice fielding, even at this late date I would get pretty damned good at it, but would end up being shot down through age discrimination anyway.
Then I had another dream, I could not remember all the segments or the exact order of the segments. My dad was singing a song, he sounded like a raspy soulful black man. I was in the front seat of a car and the other people in the car, my dad and some women, were singing like soulful raspy blacks. These songs sounded great, if I could only remember the words and the melodies when I awoke I would be a big success. For some reason my dad after a while wanted me to leave his group alone and go home. Then I was at Harvard, there were all these irregular concrete blocks and things, making it difficult to get from here to there at Harvard, but I was somehow smoothly sailing over them. Sitting there with these people I saw some women who had had plastic surgery, after the surgery, one side of her face looked normal and the other side looked like a hyper-contrasty photo, the normal side of her face looked mongoloid, wide, with alot of space between the outside of her eyebrow and her ear. When I awoke I was thinking how that kind of face with the space between the eyebrow and the ear is also part of the Alpine look, how the Bible scriptures counsel against cutting the corners of the hair. At some point I saw Erin. Her black hair was pulled back into two braids behind her back, she wore glasses and lots of lipstick that hid the natural lines of her face, she looked like a white Indian (as in Air-India, resembling Erin-dia) her upper body looked thin, her bra minimized her breasts, she wore a dark, I think dark blue T shirt and jeans. She told me she said, "I want to make it with you" (as in that David Gates and Bread song); she said she would meet me a couple of days from now, I think it was Tuesday, from I think it was 8 AM to 11 AM or some such similar time, to "make it with me". She was attending graduate school in Canada. I felt an affection for her that was something other than sexual passion. I guess I am tired of women acting fundamentalist and weird with me, saying they want to marry me before they even have a conversation with me, and then not calling me on the phone or contacting me, and so Erin seemed like a welcome relief.
There were also a few weeks ago some dreams I had I never reported, because I had the flu and felt too sick to bother with reporting them. I'll try to catch up on the especially memorable ones. In one of them, Linda, who I pursued in high school but married someone else, was lying in bed with me, under the covers, by my side. I asked her if she was still pretty, and she said, "yes". As usual I felt moved and impressed by her excellent diction and the dignity and intelligence of her voice. I think this dream had to do with how it seemed that some jewish TV announcer, it seems deceitfully, implied that Linda was no longer pretty (I have'nt seen her in years). I suspect that she's still pretty but hiding behind glasses makeup unglamorous hair colors etc.
posted by David Virgil at 8:27 PM
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