My Final Project


As (at least part of) my final project, I will be a creating hypertextual version of a dream I had on December 11th, 1996. Why, you ask? Well, it seemed to be totally related to the class, and issues that I have been thinking about because of it. It feels like there is a lot missing, and I keep remembering more details. As i remember more, i will add to this page. Here's a little quote to get us all thinking:
Elvis, on dreams:"They tell us truths that we've got to be smart enough to interpret."

Let's hope we're smart enough.

I was with my sister. We were in a huge auditorium, on the stage. We looked out into the audience and could see many people...every seat was filled...but the spectators had no faces. Just these silverish balls. It made me so scared I almost threw up. We started backing up, hoping that the curtain would soon go down and we could leave. As we were backing up, I noticed that the floor was getting less and less sturdy. It was almost like we were on a huge balloon. This made us even more frightened, so we turned around quickly to run. As soon as we did, we saw Justin Hall staring right at us. He was dressed as a woman, and I remember noticing that he had huge fake eyelashes on. He told us to follow him, so we did. We somehow trusted him implicitly. He led us backstage, and told us to wait there, that he'd back soon. He left us in a dark room, and went outside. We soon heard footsteps and heard Justin and someone else talking. Somehow, I knew that the other voice was Malcolm X. He was telling Justin that all he had to do was get us to the church on time, and that he would do the rest. Justin said that that would be easy to do, because he had a lot of influence over most women. that enraged me and I charged out of the room and attacked Justin. He simply smiled and said, "there is no such thing as negative publicity". My sister, meanwhile, was talking to Malcolm X, as he started to place a veil on her head. I got very angry at this and started yelling at my sister to take it off. She didn't seem to hear me, and Malcolm soon led her off into the darkness. Now I was stuck alone with Justin, who had since changed back into male attire. He said that someone wanted to talk to me, and took me down a narrow, dimly lit hallway.

We ended up in a very posh looking room, with a beautiful red oriental rug, and a mahogany bookcase filled with hundreds of books. I somehow knew that it was Freud's study. I immediately got very excited to meet him, but also quite nervous. I was afraid that he would be angry with me for calling him names. He then sort of appeared in the chair behind his desk and took off his glasses. Justin said, "see, I told you I'd get her to see you". I started to tell Freud that I didn't know it was him that Justin was taking me to see, and that if I had known I certainly wouldn't have agreed. Freud laughed and said, " yes you would have". Freud ignored me after that, and I seemed to be watching a session between Justin and Freud. Justin was telling him about his father, his girlfriend, and the net. Freud said that Justin viewed the net as a father figure. He said that it represented a structure that Justin wanted to figure out and master, to overthrow its power. He compared it to the oedipal desire to depose the father. Justin started crying, and stared at his hands. He turned to look at me with a very sad, childlike face. I immediately felt overwhelmed with pity and sympathy for him and moved to comfort him. But Freud yelled at me to stop. He said not to "give in to the dark side of the force". I pulled back, and turned to Freud. He was laughing, and I remember feeling very angry with him for hurting Justin and for yelling at me. I told him to practice what he preached, and to stop being so damned hypocritical. He immediately recoiled and said that I was right, and proceeded to tell me that he was ashamed of how he had acted. He begged for my forgiveness. I turned to Justin and started to yell at him for all of the things he had done on the internet, how he had betrayed his friends and family. He agreed that he had been wrong, and said that he would stop. At that moment, Malcolm X walked back in, followed by my sister, and a little man that I immediately assumed was Gandhi. He was smiling and holding out his hand, with his palm facing out in front of him. He looked at Freud, and then at Justin. Then he turned to me and told me that I had passed the test, and that I could go on to the next level. My sister had since married Malcolm X, which made me feel quite disappointed. I felt that she had wasted her life. I was happy to be going with Gandhi, moving on to the next step. I followed Gandhi out, and as I did, I realized that the room that I had been in (Freud's luxurious study) had only been a sound stage, an illusion, and that both Freud and Justin had been mere holograms. I felt relieved. I woke up smiling.

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