Chat
05-22-2010, 02:10 PM
Date Dreamed: 2010-03-16
Time of Dream: About 5 AM EST
I was with my wife and son in a large, darkened lecture hall somewhere in Baltimore. We were attending a lecture about likely scenarios for the end of our civilization. It was being given by a spry, 50-ish professor and her young male graduate student, a powerpoint.(footnote 1)
Professor J had just finished describing a burst of cross-spectrum radiation that would make everything, everywhere, go bright for several seconds "even inside caves and the dark insides of buildings, as if it would shine right through bricks." Then she stopped, because there was that exact brightness. It seemed to come from everywhere, a gray light that illuminated the [lecture] hall. We could not see the Powerpoint--the power had gone off in the building anyway, so it didn't matter.
We were alone with Professor J and her assistant. They walked to meet us at the back of the hall, as sirens began to wail [outside].
"You knew this was going to happen today." I pretended to scold her, waggling my finger at her. "You knew you weren't even going to finish the lecture--let alone the rest of the classes."
"I'm afraid you're right." she said.
We had all become our true forms by then, ie., the way I see people as they relate to me in spirit.(footnote 2) Professor J was spry, and thin, with short, full red hair and piercing blue eyes--not dying of cancer as we last saw her, at the end of her life. My wife was now thin and lovely as the day I married her, no trace of gray in her hair, ready for anything. My son had become six years old again and was sitting on my lap--Because although he is 16 now, we still hold him on the lap of our hearts, guiding him in love as best we can.
We [all] looked out the back window. I somehow had my video camera and was filming all I saw for posterity. Cars on the JFK Freeway had stopped, and great cracks appeared in the road as it broke into zig-zag concrete blocks underneath them.
A huge column of gray debris shot instantly into the sky to our North. It was the base of a mushroom cloud from a meteor strike, maybe a mile across, maybe a hundred miles across--I could not tell scale. It seemed close, and yet I lived.
We saw a second strike and mushroom cloud tower, further North and West-- Then the ground lifted our building up into the air-- but without breaking it apart, so gently. We were looking down on the city from the edge of a mountain or new plateau. Everything was gray. I had only a minute of videotape left.
"Dad," growled my son, "Quit videotaping."
"It's for posterity." I told him. I looked over at Professor J.
"I think I'm going to ask for a refund for the rest of your lectures." I said, "maybe tomorrow."
--end of dream--
footnote 1 -- Professor J was a family friend of ours, who died of cancer in 2005. She worked for a secret government agency and, while she avoided telling us anything about what she did, she once let slip that she had been personally thanked by the US president for something she had done. We often got the impression that she knew a LOT of stuff she could not say. For example, about 12/27/1999 when most people were at least a bit panicky about Y2K, she told us, 'don't worry, the computers will not crash.' Her grad student looked familiar too, but I can't place him....
footnote 2 -- Possibly this means that we had all been killed instantly. Later on however, marveling at the closeness of the meteor strike, I say "and yet I live." Can't explain this paradox -- On the other hand, it's a dream, so it doesn't have to be consistent, right?
Time of Dream: About 5 AM EST
I was with my wife and son in a large, darkened lecture hall somewhere in Baltimore. We were attending a lecture about likely scenarios for the end of our civilization. It was being given by a spry, 50-ish professor and her young male graduate student, a powerpoint.(footnote 1)
Professor J had just finished describing a burst of cross-spectrum radiation that would make everything, everywhere, go bright for several seconds "even inside caves and the dark insides of buildings, as if it would shine right through bricks." Then she stopped, because there was that exact brightness. It seemed to come from everywhere, a gray light that illuminated the [lecture] hall. We could not see the Powerpoint--the power had gone off in the building anyway, so it didn't matter.
We were alone with Professor J and her assistant. They walked to meet us at the back of the hall, as sirens began to wail [outside].
"You knew this was going to happen today." I pretended to scold her, waggling my finger at her. "You knew you weren't even going to finish the lecture--let alone the rest of the classes."
"I'm afraid you're right." she said.
We had all become our true forms by then, ie., the way I see people as they relate to me in spirit.(footnote 2) Professor J was spry, and thin, with short, full red hair and piercing blue eyes--not dying of cancer as we last saw her, at the end of her life. My wife was now thin and lovely as the day I married her, no trace of gray in her hair, ready for anything. My son had become six years old again and was sitting on my lap--Because although he is 16 now, we still hold him on the lap of our hearts, guiding him in love as best we can.
We [all] looked out the back window. I somehow had my video camera and was filming all I saw for posterity. Cars on the JFK Freeway had stopped, and great cracks appeared in the road as it broke into zig-zag concrete blocks underneath them.
A huge column of gray debris shot instantly into the sky to our North. It was the base of a mushroom cloud from a meteor strike, maybe a mile across, maybe a hundred miles across--I could not tell scale. It seemed close, and yet I lived.
We saw a second strike and mushroom cloud tower, further North and West-- Then the ground lifted our building up into the air-- but without breaking it apart, so gently. We were looking down on the city from the edge of a mountain or new plateau. Everything was gray. I had only a minute of videotape left.
"Dad," growled my son, "Quit videotaping."
"It's for posterity." I told him. I looked over at Professor J.
"I think I'm going to ask for a refund for the rest of your lectures." I said, "maybe tomorrow."
--end of dream--
footnote 1 -- Professor J was a family friend of ours, who died of cancer in 2005. She worked for a secret government agency and, while she avoided telling us anything about what she did, she once let slip that she had been personally thanked by the US president for something she had done. We often got the impression that she knew a LOT of stuff she could not say. For example, about 12/27/1999 when most people were at least a bit panicky about Y2K, she told us, 'don't worry, the computers will not crash.' Her grad student looked familiar too, but I can't place him....
footnote 2 -- Possibly this means that we had all been killed instantly. Later on however, marveling at the closeness of the meteor strike, I say "and yet I live." Can't explain this paradox -- On the other hand, it's a dream, so it doesn't have to be consistent, right?