The Prophecy of Big Bird's Skeleton

There is perhaps nothing so tedious as listening to someone tell you the content of their dreams, in the expectation that you, the hapless audience member, will immediately relate to and comprehend the meaning and symbolism behind every subconscious detail.

Having said that, I have to tell you about this really weird dream I had last night.

I was in a large nameless department store, one I've visited several times before in previous dreams (Yes, it's sadly true. In my dreams, I go shopping. So much for symbolism.). On this particular visit, I was desperately seeking Muppet action figures. (Seriously, do you know how hard it is to find these things? I don't mean the minor characters like Janice or Beauregard--you can find those at hefty discounts at any Kay-Bee outlet store. I mean the really choice players like Statler, Waldorf, Dr. Teeth, Bunsen Honeydew, Gonzo, Fozzie, and Piggy. Where are you, oh plastic mirrors of my troubled youth?)

Fortunately, my dream came to fruition. In the halls of this grossly large store (sort of like a geek's version of CostCo, jammed to its uninsulated rafters with comic books, action figures, and porn magazines), I came across a gorgeously detailed Big Bird figure (not technically a Muppet, I know, but fuck you, it's my dream) which I quickly clutched to my subconscious chest. As I was preparing to make off with my dreamy prize, I glanced down the shelves and noticed an even more enticing prize: the deluxe limited Big Bird Skeleton variant!

This disturbing figure was basically an anatomical recreation of the Bird's skeletal frame, encased in a snap-together shell of Big Bird's outer half, sort of like those anatomy mannequins you see in biology labs.

I'm not sure what Freud would make of all this. I can tell you that I had spent part of the previous day (in what passes for the Real World) unboxing my rather voluminous collection of action figures, Star Trek spaceships, and other plastic wonders. As unwieldy as this collection of mine is, it can never compare to the stuff I come across in the geeky CostCo of my disturbingly shallow dreams.

Anyway, the only reason I've remembered this dream in such detail (usually they dissolve like cotton candy in a rainstorm after waking; well, at least the non-violent ones do), and the primary reason for spinning its content into an entry for Chazzbot, was the report in the news this morning of the death of Jerry Juhl, the head writer for much of the Muppet canon, including The Muppet Show, Fraggle Rock, and most of the Muppet movies.

I'm not claiming any prophetic significance to my dream (at least not this one), and I'm not sure that Juhl ever wrote for Sesame Street anyway, but in light of the great influence the Muppets have had on my development, my dream seems, at least today, like a silent impact on the dark side of my mind. (My dreams, I should point out, are often musically accompanied by distorted variations of Pink Floyd albums.)

The other dream I had last night, just to let you know, involved George W. Bush dressed like Emperor Palpatine and making this statement to the media: "I shall not relinquish power!" Not that Bush is capable of framing his statements so eloquently--the word "relinquish," after all, has three syllables!--but the final image of the dream was of a large military convoy decamping from the White House and entering the wilderness of the American continent. Stay tuned, dreamers.