Martian Robots Dress like Freud
Dreamed 1975/8/16 by Wayan
On Atacama Plain, observatory dome.
Arch-Astronomer says "Rival scopes see more AND less Accurately. Where you Aim outweighs Acuity." The scope-directing Dials display
Anticipate Earth-weather. Here
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On Mars, that Arid redball, rolls
a robot salmon-smeared. Cajoles me to settle here. Affirms I'm kin- dred. A mere Machine. Flee into space! Fling a Ceres of new
Accrete a Chondrite rubble-stash
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On Terra, in my Petulant Crater,
the Atmosphere is Greater, the Grav too Avid. Martian bots Avoid; years free of tinny Chatter! And where my world of Artifice fell,
I scoop a clod of Asteroidal mud
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42 YEARS LATER
In 1975, dreams were still a minor (though obviously vivid) side of my life. Yet from 2000 on, as editor of the World Dream Bank, my job was to debunk Freudian (and other) absolutist, obsolete dream-theories. And my hobby? Put a hard hat on and build Planetocopia!
So when I recently stumbled on this dream that fuses Planetocopian world-building and Dreambankish Freud-bashing and mudslinging, it felt funny. In both senses. Did it foresee my life-path, or did my brain just mutter "Freud, void, Asteroid, eh, that rhymes, now Add some Alliteration..." and this dream Appeared? Either way... weird beard.
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