I woke up sneezing at five this morning. A couple hours later I was still sneezing and tired again because of it, so I went back to bed and I had a dream.
I was talking with someone, possibly my wife. “You want to see something?” asked Bill, my old work colleague and friend — Bill who is now Shaun, but in this dream Bill is still Bill, before he had become a woman. “You want to see something?” He took his notebook computer and opened the screen, which when unfolded was big enough to cover half a wall. It had some kind of surround sound system built into it too; I don’t know how it worked.
It was a commercial that Bill showed us, or actually a parody of a commercial. I’ve never seen the original commercial in the waking world, but I knew it in dreamstate and I can infer what it probably was like. The dream commercial is set in a classroom, with a bunch of kids maybe eight years old or so, some sitting at desks, some standing; no teacher that I can recall. The classroom has desks and a whiteboard but not much else in it. A couple of kids put a few books and papers down on open surfaces. Pause. Suddenly, fast motion, and all the kids start filling the classroom with stuff: books, papers, drawings, who knows what-all. Stuff is stacked on top of stuff; piles of books stack up, fall over. Stacks are coming out horizontally from the walls, from the whiteboard toward the viewer. The classroom itself begins to fall apart, walls and ceiling disappearing. I’m loving this commercial, grinning, laughing, really happy about it. A song starts playing: Hooray for the Red White and Blue, instrumental, lots of blaring brass.
I wake up and the music in my head changes to the song playing behind the closing scene/credits of David Lynch’s Inland Empire. The song is lip-synched in the movie while many women of various colors dance, some in wild abandon, some swaying hypnotically. The actress who stars in the movie sits on a sofa with two other women, both of whom are actresses who starred in prior Lynch films. The filmgoer, who has been watching the singer and dancers, now watches the three women as they watch the singer and the dancers. A week ago a Lynch fan from Spain linked to my post about Inland Empire on his blog, Mujoland. I made a comment there, leaving a link to the closing song. Trying to retrieve that link I came across a post on 17 dots that identifies the source text for the lyric. The first line of the text, which isn’t directly cited in the song, goes like this:
the sky vanished like a scroll that is rolled up…