Why Must You Hate, Pt. 2

5. That’s Not What Real Dreams Are Like

I really did want to save this one for its own post, because I take such pleasure in answering it. Yes, it’s true, most dreams are not like the ones in “Inception.” You don’t wear a killer suit with no tie, unbuttoned at the collar, and run around folding cities on themselves. But I have a question for the people who raise this objection:

What in the hell do you got to movies for?

I never understand this compulsion to sit down in a theater and watch the closest carbon copy of the exact world you’re paying to escape. Yes, you’re right, these are not like real dreams. Have you ever had a real dream? Real dreams suck. You’re in your bedroom, only it’s not your bedroom at all, and then you remember that your cat just died in a fire. Then your mother comes in and tells you you’re a penguin, and your face falls off. I would not pay ten dollars to experience a real dream in a theater.

“Inception” takes the two percent of dreams that are bangin’ and expands them. You know the type I mean: the one where you win the lottery, and then a resurrected Grace Kelly at the age of 24 begs you to marry her, and you ride off together in the Batmobile to begin your life studying Great White Sharks in a mansion next to Denzel Washington, who’s your buddy. Okay maybe only I have that one. Stop looking at me like that, Dear Reader.

Also, I don’t suppose the words “science fiction” mean anything to you? If the human mind can dream, than I can accept the concept of a machine that induces particularly lucid, lifelike dreams. I’ve certainly had such dreams, as I think most people have. If you accept the concept of a dream that fools you into thinking you’re awake, then sprinkle a little sci-fi suspension of disbelief in there, you’re home free.

And be fair, it’s not like the dreams were just literally Bond films. They folded a city on itself, damn it! A hotel hallway spun like the inside of a drier! A restaurant tipped on its side! Rain storms, avalanches, and flash floods exploded into existence out of nowhere! People changed into other people, then back again! I’m pretty sure the fabric of reality was good and violated. All that was missing was my good friend and neighbor Denzel…and Grace Kelly. Especially Grace Kelly.

I’m going to go ahead and stop here. I can feel this entry about to spiral off into a lustful diatribe about Grace Kelly…or Denzel, I’m not really sure. Neither one is going to work out well for whatever shred of respect you might have had for me when this blog post began. I bid you good day.