I had a dream last night. In this dream I found myself in a line that stretched to infinity. We constantly moved forward but seemed to make no headway. After what seemed an eternity, I entered a big hall. The line of people to the front were lost in the horizon as the aisle we were standing in blended with the huge alter at the end. I finally made it to the front. Stretched out on this huge pancake flipper was a clown with huge clown feet. His face was pasty white, his nose the obligatory redball and his white hair puffed out from under a cartoon version of a bishop's hat. Just as I got close enough to see the hairs in his nose, he sat up holding a sign that said, "I think we are all Bozo's on this bus". And then he smiled at me. One of those big semi toothy smiles of an old geezer. An old lady in front of me fainted and the guy behind me ran screaming down the aisle. I just stood there and grinned back.
I am not sure what this dream meant. But surely the recent demise of the Pope had something to do with it. Combine my renewed interest in Firesign Theater and what we have are all the ingredients needed for a truly bizarre REM encounter. I awoke disturbed but not like waking from a nightmare. I felt like I had done something naughty but couldn't put my finger on just what that naughty thing was. Regardless, an unusual dream in a mind not known to be a very fertile playground.