Alex Peak


2008/05/23:  Randomness and the Libertarian National Convention

Also available in .txt.

This dream was literally all over the place.

The earliest part of the dream I can remember is Ali Judge, a girl with whom I have a very unofficial relationship, telling me that she had herpes or some other type of sexually-transmitted disease.  We quickly conclude that she did not contract it with me.

Next, I’m with Logan Scheel, a friend and fellow libertarian, at some sort of fancy hotel.  In the dream, we are both high on marijuana and watching some movie.  Of course, there is absolutely nothing realistic about this.  For one thing, why were we in a hotel sharing a room?  For another, why were we high?  In real life, Logan has never used illegal drugs and has expressed zero interest in doing so.

Then my dream mutates.  Both Logan and I are there, but neither of us are in any way intoxicated.  Instead, we are, in the dream, planning to get high.  But, before this can occur, I have an appointment with my family.  I head downstairs to where my family is cooking a good hot-dog on a grill in the middle of the hotel lobby.

As if that’s not odd enough, there’s some sort of never-ending pit that the hotel has installed that I happen to accidentally fall into.  Luckily, I grab onto the edges of the pit.  The way the pit is carved, I fear that trying to pull myself up will cause me to simply fall in.  So I call my family over and they give me a hand.

Problem is, simply giving me a hand is not enough, as they thereby risk their own lives—given the shape of the carvings of this pit.  So, we notice railings of some sort screwed into the walls of this pit.  I’m about to pull myself up and out of the pit with those, but my grandfather has the “brilliant” idea of unscrewing them and screwing them back in a bit higher.  Well, I use it nonetheless to pull myself out of the pit by hitching my leg over the railing.

After that, I go to explore the hotel, which I discover is actually a museum of some sort.  So, I start walking around the museum with the intent of checking everything out.  Some areas have more goodies to look at than others.  There’s an area that is nothing but chairs and maybe some boxes, so I explore there, too.

I can’t remember now, but this section had something to do with Thomas Hobbes.

Eventually I wind my way out of the chairs and into an area of the museum where you can interact with the artefacts.  The artefacts specifically involve pennies.  You place the penny into the little contraption and, if you time it just right, the penny will fly into a little penny-hole and you will win quarters, nickels, and dimes.  There was no way to be sure you’d get the timing right without trying multiple times.  A few machines were broken and the penny-hole was lined up perfectly at all times, but those had no quarters in the, having already been emptied by entrepreneurs before me.

Then it was time to leave the museum.  I’m driving along, and find some sort of store that sells food.  Inside, I find that Carol Moore, a libertarian, either works there or co-owns the store.  We speak briefly, and I buy a bunch of food, as I was quite hungry, and as it was extremely delicious.  I get full.

So I’m off.

I run into this girl I supposedly know, and start following her so as to ask her questions about drugs or museums or something.  Eventually we’re in this place, a store or something, and I’m communicating with her through a touch-screen television-like object, which she is either inside or next to me looking at.  (Shouldn’t end sentences with a preposition.)  She does not turn out to be helpful.

So, I’m walking outside toward my truck.  A bunch of women—well, a few—are wearing some sort of weird Æon Flux-like clothing.  It turns out there are giving out brochures or something on sexism, and are using their sex-appeal to get people to read it.  As I am already a feminist, and as I was hurrying to my truck for some reason, I tried to walk by them.  One bumped into me.

I get to my truck and start to drive home.  I recognise the street as being close to the Towson circle.  I also realise I have C-SPAN Radio on, and I’m listening to someone speak whose voice sounds vaguely similar to Murray Rothbard’s.  This person’s speech is definitely radically libertarian in nature, and I realise I’m listening to a broadcast from a Libertarian National Convention.  However, I’m not sure if this is the current Libertarian National Convention, or an older one—and if it indeed is Rothbard speaking, that would seem to indicate that it had to be an older one.

Then I wake up.

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