coffee, black   no sugar


20061206 Wednesday December 06, 2006
I dream
200612061722

The following is true.

Last night I dreamed that for some reason lost to me, I was part of a group visiting Microsoft. It turned out that Bill Gates was our host on that event. For lunch we drove together in some SUVs to a restaurant with a large patio. It all looked like lots of money, but had the style a 10 year old would like.

When we got seated, it turned out that I was sitting right next to Bill at a table with several people. Everyone was tense, thinking of what to say, and so was I. Should I try to be witty? With Bill? He is way smarter than me. Just say something nice? Nah, not my style either. And then I had an idea and immediately felt it being the right one.

I turned to Bill and said: One thing I always wanted to know is: why is it not possible to delete open files in Windows?

And he looked at me. And then he smiled, turned his hands to me, palms upwards and held them for me to look at. And on one palm was resting a red pill. And on the other a blue one. And without hesitation, keeping eye contact with Bill, I took the red pill and swallowed it.

And the world changed, and I was no longer at the restaurant. Instead I was flying through some strange, barely lit greenness where tree-like structures grew from floor to ceiling. I was able to wrap my hand around each single one and rip them out of the earth. A sense of liberation rose inside of me...

And then the canopy was gone and I was in a place of white, brilliant light. Looking around me I noticed some heavy stone chairs standing side by side in the distance. Those kind of chairs like a throne hewn out of solid rock. Rectangular and massive. I saw two bearded figures of men sitting on them. Semi-translucent they silently smiled at each other and seemed completely at ease. I suddenly knew them to be Brian Kernighan and Dennis Ritchie.

This place, while being peaceful and radiating harmony, felt however in all its perfectness quite incomplete. It lacked the creative spirit that thrives on chaos, all its perfection being too linear in nature. I looked behind me.

And saw the devil, clad all in red. And it was Steve Jobs. And he lifted his pitch fork and Boom! the place shone with colors. Swirls of energy created torrents and patterns around us. My eyes were unable to take it all in at once and yet it did not overwhelm my senses. The figures on the thrones nodded knowingly at each other, observing the scenes around them with dispassionate, yet appreciating interest.

Then I woke up.

I am terribly sorry if this dream does not offer any great revelations to you. But to me it makes perfect sense.

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