Death, Dreams, and The Thursday Survey

To sleep: perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub;
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come . . .

--Prince Hamlet of Denmark, Hamlet by William Shakespeare

I think maybe my mind is preoccupied with something lately. I've been having a lot of dreams about death the past few nights. Not violent or murderous dreams; I haven't killed anyone nor has anyone been "killed," per se. No, just dying. They've been emotionally intense dreams to say the least. Maybe it's just my mind's way of trying to deal with my grandmother's sudden death and all the death and destruction inundating us every night on the television since Katrina busted the levees and Potemkin-President Bush murdered all those thousands of people through his wonton and arrogant negligence.

Hmm . . . Think I could be feeling some anger, too.

Since I wrote Tuesday's post, I have to admit my optimism has jaded a bit. The red sun rising over the horizon of my morning drive now seems less majestic and more like a plastic sack caught in an alley air current--pretty stupid and meaningless, just there. And a bit blinding.

Oh, and I'm still waiting for the "change for the better" thing to happen. I know, I know, it's only been three days. Did I mention that I am impatient and have a short attentio

So on my drive in yesterday morning, I almost had three wrecks, all because other people are idiots. Sounds like a cop-out? It would be, if it wasn't completely true.

1. Almost rear-ended--twice--by people NOT PAYING ATTENTION.
2. and some Jackass-SUV decided his lane wasn't good enough, so he made a hostile takeover bid on my lane . . . with ME still in it!
   

I swear, these people and their goddamn SUV's. Oh, well. At least I can take comfort in knowing Karma is biting them in the ass now with $3.00/gallon gas. That is, until I remember that I bought a V8 Mustang. But then I remind myself that my Mustang GT still gets far better gas mileage than most SUV's and I'm right back to feeling superior. Stupid fucking SUV's.

What's that you ask? Doesn't my very dear friend, Megan, drive an SUV? Why yes, yes she does, that's very astute of you. She also voted for Bush. Twice. How in the world am I still friends with her, you ask? Because even good people whom I consider friend-worthy sometimes make boneheaded decisions. Really, really, boneheaded decisions. Besides, Megan realizes her boneheaded-ness and is regretting and striving to change for the better--or at least wishing for it. Besides, it makes for great comedy fodder on her blog.

And she doesn't drive like a Jackass.

So taking a shameless ripoff of a semi-patented Megan idea, I bring you

*The Thursday Survey*

I would make it sparkle and flash, but I'm not that technologically advanced.

So here it is, The Thursday Survey question:

Boxers or briefs?

Which would you rather watch:

A Celebrity Boxing match or
a White House Pressroom Briefing?

Both are staged and egostroking measures done out of desperation to divert attention from a failing career. For me, it's a toss up.

Wow, talking about randomness and misdirection--this post falls under both. From death and dreams to SUV's to crap survey. I guess, in the loosest possible way, you could apply death and dreams to all of these subjects as a highly subjective and abstract construct. Or not. Frankly, my dear, I don't give a damn.

Cheers-Thanksalot!