In the dream one is reading a newspaper, and there is much going on in the paper, and perhaps most of it happening between the words and the sentences. Day after day the work of publishing the paper continues, but almost as if putting on a burlesque play, the corporation rapidly changes the writing staff. Yet there are some constants in the articles and the articles within, punctuated by features appearing from time to time. The editorials rage. The classified ads seduce. As the reader looks down through the entertainment section a little comic strip catches the eye entitled with a quirky phrase like 'the voice of god', or some other thing. But no matter how many times one goes to that section the main character remains unfamiliar, and seems to be no more than a mere outline. Perhaps the Sunday edition will be in color. Imagine that. The stuff that dreams are made of.
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