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Varieties of Oneiric Experience

...is what tomsdisch labelled these investigations, and he held that hearing (in this case reading) others' dreams is as amusing as hearing any story can be, which I agree with completely, whether creepy and unheimlich or goofy and dadaist.  There's just no doubt that it all means something, and something important, but what or why can't be said, just as with stories themselves.  Teaching a lesson (or learning one) just won't do.

Anyway, after carefully grooming the data I seem to arrive at no conclusion -- most people don;t have those kinds of dreams and of the few who do there seem to be as many women as men -- so forget it.

It does suggest though the need for a real taxonomy of dreams:  not an analytic mode or method, we are far from that pace Freud and others, but a simple taxonomy, like the meme structure of folktales.  SO you can wake up and say oh one of those.  We do that anyway of course, but this would be science, like.

The Forgotten Errand.
The Big Nice House  (this one is cognate to the New Apartment, which in my dreams is always a wonderful refuge, sometimes with free meals or similar).
The Big Nice Elaborately Produced City.
The Big Guy who makes me Guilty/Nervous/Anxious
The Rock Band that Needs my Help (this can't, at least in this form, be a permanent fixture of mentality, though it might have earlier cognates. e.g.  The Shaman who Neeeds me to Beat the Drum.  In my case it was auditioning to replace the bassist in the Paul Butterfield Blues Band, a band I never even listened to much.)
Meeting Dead People who Act Alive
Being Dead but Still Alive
Meeting Famous Dead People who Act Alive

... well I seem to be drifitng into inconsequence, like the Chinese Encyclopedia. 


Jan. 23rd, 2007 03:23 pm (UTC)
I've been thinking of doing a sleep study for a while, though not necessarily for dream-related reasons; if I do I will let people know the results.

I'm not currently employed in waking life, but I have noticed that I don't dream of working if I'm ill or beyond a certain threshold of exhausted (if I fall into bed and pass out before my head hits the pillow, that's too tired). It's actually a pretty interesting job, because a lot of the really annoying things about retail have been removed-- no cleaning the store, no repetitively obnoxious customers (sometimes there's a difficulty in making out what they want because they're so odd, but none of the standard banes of retail clerk existence seem to come in), the manager isn't evil and doesn't treat the clerks like peons, and the stock is so endlessly varied that restocking is actually fascinating. Also it raises interesting issues: for example, I'm pretty sure I get an employee discount, because that's standard practice, but I never seem to have any money or any of the other things used as currency. If I did manage to buy something, what would I do with it? Where would I put it? Would I have a dream about using it? And so on. Unfortunately, it isn't a lucid dream, so I never think of this sort of thing at the time.
Jan. 23rd, 2007 06:33 pm (UTC)
I agree with tomedisch, I'm envious. Due to a sleeping disorder, I too have a rich dream life, but rarely if ever do I have recurring dreams of this level of detail and permanency. What it really reminds me of, though, in reading it, is Neil Gaiman's Sandman comic. What you describe sounds just exactly like the kind of thing he would write about (and I have a feeling if he were still doing the comic, and I know he reads JC's journal, he would gank it in an instant. I'm sure he'd give you credit though).