dreams | Plastic Farm Animals

DREAMING ABOUT PEACE

Camille Armantrout — Fri, 13 Mar 2009 19:20:27 +0000

Last night I dreamed that Obama came to our neck of the woods. He was seated at a row of tables with a lot of other notables in a large room. Across the room was another row of tables behind which people from around were seated.

I was walking around the room, chit chatting away, like I do and finally settled down in a row of stuffed chairs with folks I knew. Being one of the last to seat myself, the only seat open was a low ottoman. I noticed there was some animal hair on it, probably dog.

The hubbub was hushed by a signal from the emcee and Obama, at the table to my left, cleared his throat and asked for input from the group. I raised my hand and spoke. “With all due respect, president Obama” I started out, “I cannot support you until you end the war in Iraq.”

The room was stunned and then a huge round of cheers and applause erupted from the far end of the room. Someone that I could not identify jumped up from the table to my right and ran over to me, jabbed a tiny needle with some kind of plastic handle – like a tack, only much sharper – jabbed it into my face, then ran over and dropped it into a container on Obama’s table and went and sat back down.

The meeting quickly descended into chaos. People had gotten out of their seats and were talking with each other again. I walked over to the table to my right and asked a woman if she had taken my DNA sample, not even sure if it was the woman who had jabbed my face and she said, “Yes.”

In a subsequent dream, I was with my mother and she started telling me why we couldn’t just end the war, that we needed to make sure the region was stabilized first. I disagreed, feeling like a rebellious teenager and laid down the gauntlet. “I’m moving to Baghdad until this war is over!” I announced and of course, my mother didn’t believe me which made me all the more determined.

Later on, I find myself in Baghdad, wondering where I’m going to sleep and what I’m going to eat, trying not to attract attention to myself and I’m hiding in a war torn building when someone comes along to harvest the copper tubing in the closet I’ve targeted for my bedroom…

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GREEN DREAMS

Camille Armantrout — Mon, 31 Dec 2007 12:00:26 +0000

In my dreams I wake up tomorrow, to find that three years have passed and the world is changing for the better. Halfway through their first term, the Nader/Kucinich administration has already seen many milestones, among them:

All American troops have been withdrawn from Iraq
The Defense Department has been replaced by a Department of Peace
A single payer system provides everyone with health care
College education is free for every citizen
A minimum 40 mpg has been set for all new passenger cars
The passenger rail system is being rebuilt

Other signs of progress:
The human population is down to five billion and is steadily dropping
Only 5 million children (down from nearly 10 million in 2006) died last year from preventable causes, due to a steadily increasing adoption rate
Air travel has decreased by 30%
There is a huge resurgence in Victory Gardens or Community Gardens
The average food item travels only 800 miles, down from 1500
Worldwide meat production dropped another 5% last year
25% of all new homes have built in composting toilets, water catchments, grey water recycling, solar panels, passive solar and wind power
Traditional Main Street towns are making a come back
Big Box Stores are showing a 20% decline in sales
Farmers Markets are on the increase
Locally owned businesses are booming
And so on…

Ahhhhh – one can dream, can’t they?

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HOMELAND INSECURITY

Camille Armantrout — Fri, 26 Aug 2005 21:50:53 +0000

Anytown, USA

I don’t mind admitting that our recent move to Anytown, USA has me spooked. I woke to solid proof the other morning when I realized I had just dreamed about corpses two nights in a row.

In both dreams, I was circumstantially forced to look at the unburied dead. Although I did everything I could to avoid the cadavers, by the end of the dream I had no choice but to face them. It amazed me that the good people around me did not notice my revulsion. My protestations were ignored.

It’s hard to imagine that moving to an innocuous little town in this oh-so-safe country is enough to throw me off balance. Especially considering that I spent my childhood and most of my adult life on this soil. What could I possible be nervous about?

For starters, how about my own shopping lists, which refuse to die despite dozens of trips to the store. No matter how many bags I drag up the stairs to our apartment, there is always another thing to add to the list. To put it bluntly, I’m afraid of getting sucked into the culture of obscene wealth.

It also makes me nervous to consider living among the walking dead, where one third of the population is on “meds.” Think about this the next time you are barreling down the highway, squeezed between twin mothers in 6,000 pound vehicles as they struggle to balance their coffee cup and cell phone. It is no wonder I cannot ignore what my psyche is whispering to me while I sleep.

I am also a bit apprehensive about winter – 6 months of lifeless gardens. I’m not sure how this will feel after 8 years of endless summer. I’m anxious about having to amend my carefree, barefoot ways, especially as regards my responsibilities towards family.

These are all reasons enough to cause me nightmares. Now that I have acknowledged them, I’m going to do what I must to put them aside and function as a normal citizen. It would be socially irresponsible to do otherwise.

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RATS

Camille Armantrout — Thu, 02 Dec 2004 12:19:28 +0000

The awesome power of a bored brain

In 11 days, Bob and I leave Maui with no plans to return. A couple of days ago, I came across a road kill rat during one of my walks. It surprised me, not because I have never seen road kill, or dead rats, or even road kill rats, but because I realized this was the first road killed rat I had seen during my four years on Maui.

I tried to place the memory of my last road kill rat and realized it was on one of my last walks before leaving Guam (with no plans for return.)

I’m not sure what it means, but this morning I stepped out the back door with a full laundry basket and nearly stepped on a very large dead rat.

I am pretty certain this morning’s rat was an offering from the neighbor’s cat, ZZ. Strangely, we have lived here for 18 months and she has never given us a rat before.

What does it all mean? I offer a few possible explanations:

a) I sense the imminent end of my time in this place and am therefore more apt to notice the dead things around me. Why they happen to be rats is a mystery.

b) As the pace around us cranks into a frenzy of pre-holiday shopping gridlock complete with road rage, I feel like we are rats leaving a sinking ship.

c) This week’s rat sightings were triggered by the photos my sister-in-law, Debbie has been sending of their new pet rats.

d) ZZ senses our departure and wanted to give us something for the trip.

e) ZZ knows us better this year and with winter coming on, decided to give us a little something extra to eat.

f) I have an over-active mind. As someone recently said, “You think too much! You need to get a life!”

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