Part 1 of 3

Davos, Switzerland from the WEF 2005

[Disclaimer: This is a satirical piece. It is sad that I need to spell it out, but it is required. It could be very bad, or very good, but at least you know what it is]

This is the longest dream I’ve ever had. I think that I have finally figured out the old Omni magazine method of lucid dreaming. It’s all too wierd to be the real world, but it’s vivid enough that it ranks as one of my coolest dreams of all time (except for the one where I lived several lifetimes as an African prince and fought a lion). I am through the Looking Glass, I’ve popped into the Matrix, and it’s all one long crazy trip.

But is this a dream? It has the surreal quality of wandering into Oz but also of being in a James Bond movie (Goldfinger? For Your Eyes Only?). Not as the lead, but as one of the random guests in the casino, watching 007 win all of the money and take to his room (free of course, with a martini at the ready) two women named Pussy Galore and Truly Scrumptious. Bastard. I find myself in a heated discussion on human consciousness, babbling on about living robots and mysticism and all sorts of California kinds of things. Robotic frogs. Of course! Yes, it is a dream because Sharon Stone is sitting behind me, talking to her agent and nodding when the Buddhist Monk talks about reaching the ninth level of understanding in the 500th lifetime. Getting pretty wierd now. I am in an argument with some British Dutchess who is also a professor at Oxford or some such thing and who speaks ten times faster than a normal person. She speaks so fast that I almost expect her head to spin a 360. Is that the Prime Minister of India? Pakistan? The CEO of Infosys? A soft pillow is a clear conscience. A big rabbit makes a nice pillow. The mad hatter drinks hot tea. Can I order my curry now? A robotic gentleman (I swear I saw his circuit blow) speaks in an even, monotone voice. He is somehow involved in the stem cell controversy in the U.S. (I’m sorry Dave…is there a problem?). Stem cells are good, but they are bad, but they are also good. Yes, stem cells. Hahahaha. You will one day use mind enhancing drugs. You will. You will. You will (ahhhh!). He claims that coffe is a mind-enhancing drug – does that mean that Starbucks is really a biotech play? Go Starbucks! Buy! Sell! Maybe he is a cloning experiment gone bad, one of the feared chimera clones. Maybe Bush is one too. And Chirac. The Prime Minister of Germany speaks in a robust, fierce tone. Germans are great engineers (no duh). Come back to Germany. We are good workers and very smart (no duh!, but the Asians work harder, cheaper, and faster – wake up buddy and smell the green tea – they are pretty smart too). My dream is taking on an icky, CNN Crossfire feel and I just want to change the channel. Suddenly I’m in Al Jazeera. There is a reporter from Al Jazeera. Cool. But what’s he doing hanging with some guy from the Jerusalem Post. This must be a dream (actually it is a dream). Quick, where is the remote! Al Jazeera – cool sounding name. Has a scimitar slicing your head off kind of swoosh to it. They need to add Adult Swim and maybe Sponge Bob to their mix of anti-US bile. Some Felix the Cat would really mellow out the Middle East. Guys -chill out! Bush only has four more years. How much damage can he really cause? Hmm….some Laverne & Shirley may be needed now. Wouldn’t that rock? Al Jazeera, home of Laverne & Shirley re-runs, followed by Mork & Mindy 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Here’s my pitch for Middle East: replace jihad with nanu-nanu, and Al-Qaeda with Lenny & Squiggy. How could it be any worse?

A famous Buddhist monk appears, very graceful and Buddha-like. Maybe this is the Matrix! I scan for Keanu but he is not here. Orrin Hatch? Yikes. What’s he doing in my dream. Now methinks I’m in a Woody Allen movie, but Diane Keaton is not around. Congressman Barney Frank walks by – but where’s Barney? Barney should be here too. Congressman Barney the Purple Dinosaur. It has a nice ring to it and it will surely bring out the youth vote! Heck, anything will help the Democrats at this point. Oh wait, it’s that wacky mayor of San Francisco who allowed gay marriage. What a freakazoid – allowing civil rights in the United States of America? Where does he think he is? Russia? Poland? South Africa? Burn him! Throw him in the slammer and chuck the key. Of course you lost the Democrats the elections. Kerry is a great leader and he did not lose the election because he looks like Herman Munster and is a nincompoop (my diabetic cat could beat George Bush in an election). The most important issue in the whole world, much more important than peace, economic health, international relations, or healthcare, or even Angeline Jolie (heaven forbid) is stopping gay people from get married. That is why we invaded Iraq. It is all Gavin Newsome’s fault. This is surely a dream because I saw Orrin Hatch’s head pop off after it turned so red when he, with the righteouness of heaven, prononced why the U.S. is going to steam roll over the Middle East and turn it into a Wal-Mart: Because the Mayor of San Francisco (who will burn in eternal hellfire and have to watch Al Jazeera 24-7) allows U.S. citizens to have their freedom, liberty, and pursuit of happiness. Damn the founding fathers! Liberal freaks!

I walk out and bump into Bono, who is sitting in a tight circle with what looks like every important African minister (rocking outfits guys) and a slew of generic looking wealthy European businessmen. Bono has a Bonoesque quality to him, with the spiderman goggle shades, cigarette, lizard skin boots, and general Bono coolness. He takes a drag on his fag (British for cancer causing cigarette) in that Bono way. Women swoon, guys want to be him. Hey, he’s Bono. I actually like the Edge (what an awesome name) better, but Bono (not a great name – like a talking chimp name like Bobo) is like seeing Elvis. Bono in 3D is pretty interesting, like a really cool Pixar 3d movie. Go guys at Pixar! That virtual 3d Bono looks pretty damn real. He still looks like Bono but your level of cognitive dissonance rises past the red line. He belongs on a tv screen or on a cool album cover, staring off into the distance in the desert. The physical Bono is an oddity, as if Pac Man showed up in your kitchen and wanted a pizza or to hang out. It just freaks you out at first. Especially because this is not a U2 rock concert with millions of screaming fans (or is it?). This is Bono at the meeting of the leaders of the entire globe, with the UN’s gallery of third world leaders at his feet. It’s like seeing Mickey Mouse in a live action adventure movie – it’s just strange. I want to say hello but get swarmed by a group of oil state sheiks, and I am soon lost in a sea of robes and attendants (where is the Edge, he would save me!). Quick score at the WEF prize fight: Bono 1, Establishment 0. Oh well, this may be my dream but it has its own life. Clinton. Gore. Orrin Hatch. George Sorros. Bill Gates. Don’t Bill & George own the whole world and also the moon? Jupiter’s moons? Ted Turner. Hey Ted, what’s happening? Are you still relevant? I guess so. You must be. You sure look like a cool American maverick CEO type. The Marlboro Man. Hi-ho Silver, away! My dream intensifies and just gets wierder and more surreal.

Dinner with the Lord Clifton of Elkswood of Canterbury Crick and Some Sheep, a British Ambassador, some more generic wealthy Europeans, and a wacky, probably irrelevant American techy (oh wait, that’s me). Now I am in a Monty Python movie, compete with the Ambassador Of Taking Silly Minutes. He is also the Ambassador Of The Inability To Have An Opinion Because He Is A Real British Ambassador. I argue that we should spread more of the open source software concept to politics, and then we won’t need leaders anymore and everything will be groovy. What do you mean? Who will run things? No one! That’s how Linux works. What a dangerous idea! The editor of a fancy pants magazine (The Economist?) is intrigued, but others at the table are very lost. Ok, how about a real dangerous idea being eating this dinner. Cloning again. Yes, cloning and mutating humans = bad (see Star Wars Episode II: The Clone Wars. Enough said). The Irish professor from the London School of Economics is very loud. He has a new book coming out, called "I’m from England, And I Am Much, Much Smarter Than You, You Stupid Ignorant Clods". I think my dream is subsiding, but then….

A nice man from from the President’s Office in Kenya. What’s up? I invite him to come and visit me in the U.S. He is so happy. What’s the harm? Its only a dream. I begin to realize, like Harry Potter, that I can use my pen to perform magic. How about Jimmy Hendrix? I wave my pen – poof – Richard Gere. Hmm. I try Bill Cosby and get John McCain. Yikes! How about Fat Albert? Nope, the Bishop of Canterbury (or Kent or some medieval place where folks used to be burnt at the stake). Ok, Angeline Jolie – nope. All I get is the Commissioner of the NBA, and boy, is he a grumpy fellow. What do you mean basketball is a cuthroat business and like reality TV? Are you on crack! Do you mean to say that athletes are manufactured corporate tools, just like everyone else? Babe Ruth too? Apple pie sucks? Who are you, Jackie Mason? And why are all you billionaire media executives freaking out when the drivel you call corporate manufactured entertainment and celebrity was compared to the tobacco industry? Why are you offended? Tobacco made big $. Don’t try to have a soul now boys, it’s far too late. You already have screwed up hundreds of millions of kids (who would ever propose putting Sponge Bob on Al Jazeera. This is just one clear example of the toxicity of your evil programming). Donald Trump = A Big Mac. Go ahead Super Size me. Wait – it’s the lady from the movie Super Size Me, the nutrition Professor from NYU. She is so happy – no one ever called her a movie star. You are a movie star! Just like Sharon Stone. Everyone in Hollywood fought for the part to play an NYU professor who explains the technical meaning of caloric content.

I guess this is like the first Harry Potter movie, because none of the magic works quite right. Michael Dell – bingo! Hey, can you fix my laptop, it’s getting a bit dingy. Yeah, I can blog with it, but come on. You have a $40 billion business to run? Can’t be bothered with my stinky laptop? But it’s my dream!

Of course my parents arrive (Freud fans, it’s all textbook). It’s cool. It just reinforces the dream. Swiss guards surround them. Peres. Olmert. Falafel. Chicken soup. Wiesel. I need to sleep.