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2.12 Bulletin:
Jan. 22nd, 2005 02:12 pmYeah. Still snowing.
Cool.
I had a dream this morning that I'll be unravelling for a long, long time. I dreamt I had the ability to clone any living creature. Copy them exactly. At first, I had to try really hard, but then I came downstairs-- I was at my parents' house-- and found not one, but two Kahluas sleeping on the floor. I turned around quickly to put the gate up to keep "my" Clue upstairs, as I had no idea how I'd keep them straight. And I tried, with an earnest "laying on of hands" to send them back, these two happy dogs, to wherever it was they came from, though I had no clear idea how I'd do that or to where they'd go. But I could feel my power spinning out of control, and I was alarmed at what-- or whom-- I might turn around and find next.
And I realised, as the possibilities ran through my mind of what I could do with this power, that it was almost crippling. I knew first off the bat who I'd want to copy and keep for my own, but I knew that even if I could do so: create him out of nowhere all my own, he would never be the same person, never have the same experiences, never have the same store of humour and wit. And how would he live? What would he do? What kind of person would he be?
I began to see, in the end, that almost the only thing I could do was create copies of pets for people: happy, innocent animals about whom the idle rich who could afford me would have no grand expectations of intellect or conversation.
I've never thought so much in a dream. But I still don't know what it mea--
Oh. Maybe I do.
Cool.
I had a dream this morning that I'll be unravelling for a long, long time. I dreamt I had the ability to clone any living creature. Copy them exactly. At first, I had to try really hard, but then I came downstairs-- I was at my parents' house-- and found not one, but two Kahluas sleeping on the floor. I turned around quickly to put the gate up to keep "my" Clue upstairs, as I had no idea how I'd keep them straight. And I tried, with an earnest "laying on of hands" to send them back, these two happy dogs, to wherever it was they came from, though I had no clear idea how I'd do that or to where they'd go. But I could feel my power spinning out of control, and I was alarmed at what-- or whom-- I might turn around and find next.
And I realised, as the possibilities ran through my mind of what I could do with this power, that it was almost crippling. I knew first off the bat who I'd want to copy and keep for my own, but I knew that even if I could do so: create him out of nowhere all my own, he would never be the same person, never have the same experiences, never have the same store of humour and wit. And how would he live? What would he do? What kind of person would he be?
I began to see, in the end, that almost the only thing I could do was create copies of pets for people: happy, innocent animals about whom the idle rich who could afford me would have no grand expectations of intellect or conversation.
I've never thought so much in a dream. But I still don't know what it mea--
Oh. Maybe I do.