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Dream Machine November 20, 2005

Posted by Matt Hurst in Uncategorized.

The past two mornings I woke to hear an angel singing the blues. It was a surreal way to wake from such a dream’s state, so I stayed in bed instead. The first day I woke to the bird’s song over air attack sirens (the same ones used for bombing campaigns and tornados), as if even the city was calling me to pay attention. The second morning I heard the reprise of this chorus. Somedays it seems not worth waking, when such inspiration comes negative. How can something so sad be beautiful? Life is all inclusive.
But the dream is always elusive. It would seem easier to accept the fantasy than reality sometimes, but both posses the ability to turn twisted quickly. My convoluted dreams have been speaking to me, even in my waking life. Have you ever had deja vu? I do between these differed states of conciousness, but still have yet to discern their meanings, presuming their is any.
What I can find meaning in are the dreams so far unrelated, but still pertinent and relevant. Even my dreams comment on the state of dreaming as of late. That last morning I had woken from a particularly straight forward conflict unusual in the dreaming world.
I was walking around a college prepetory school of some sort, in between the playing fields of various sports. I believe my operating mission was to do some kind of journalism, probably documentary film, about team sports. As the head coach type figure wheeled me around in his golf cart in between the varied athletic activities, he esposed on the value of sport for these young people. He told me about the value of team work, or working as a team, that these sports would instill upon the school’s pupils. I might note that none of these athletes were women. The presumption of course is that cooperation towards everyone’s self-improvement could not be attained in the competive classroom, particularly in the culture of the rugged individual associated with the male gender role. Clearly he was communicating the hopeful notion of american sydicalism – the american dream involves us all working towards the same ends, instead of just our own. It is an old model that makes blue collar america believe they can persvere of over class standards together. The individual is weak alone.
I can say this because their seemed to be a running joke throughout the dream. It was about tennis players, who clearly the coach had a dislike for, as if he didn’t consider is legitimate as a sport. After all his talk about teamwork as he introduced me to their sport programs, we got to tennis where he told me “well…we have the latest in technology”. The meaning was pretty easy to discern. In a world where you hope you’re not alone in your efforts, it is a game that glories the individual, in which it is impossible to revel with them. You cannot share the glory of an individual’s success, but can only attain it through direct competition with them. There are good reasons that tennis is not successful as a spectator sport in this country – it does not emphasize the values we embrace in sport, as well as in our culture. Granted, the cult of the individual free agent continues to grow in team sport as well. For game purests and for the rabid “home team” fans it is an obstacle to the sport’s appeal – in the team, our team. Like the coach mentioned to me, technology resolves this problem. We can empower the individual with tools to strengthen and expand their own abilities. It is a march of progress for every player. It goes further for the spectator as well, as technology adds to the spectacle of the game at hand. With motion graphics and game analysis for the fan new dimentions in the game’s understanding allow us to speculate, even participate in stategy, from the comfort of our armchairs. Of course we have no way of effecting the outcome, but the affect creates the appearance of the same unity of progress of society that team sports portray for us in the forums meant to ultimately distract us.
And in the end, its only an illusion. An aspiration, but just as futile as my dream about them. The sport is an entrainment into our values, and a distraction from things that ultimately effect our own lives. It is a play put in front of us, lving out our hopes in dreams in what is ultimately just a meaningless game at the end of the day. There are no real consequences outside of the game on our lives.
And so I woke.

Today I recommit myself to exploring the American Dream in all of its manifestations. What is this largely undefined culural myth that we love so much? Where can it be found? Does it really exist? Why do we spend so much time and effort to chase down this ideal for ourselves? What does that mean?
Somedays it might just seem easier to sleep than to wake up. We’ve been dreaming, and walking through this world it would seem we continue to even as we are awake.



1. homeless_spork - November 21, 2005

this will take wayyyy longer than that friggin test.

2. skewgee - November 22, 2005

ah, but wasn’t it more definitive?

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