Pastry dreams

I had a very, very weird dream so now I have to tell you all about it.

Okay first I went skating topless. I don't know why I did this, it was a dream, right? Well, so as I was getting off the ice because people were getting ready to use it for some game or something else, this guy came into the arena. This guy was a prophet, you see, because he talked to God and everyone believed in him, so everyone did just what he asked. So he was demanding that everyone lie on their stomachs in the arena, because God was asking them to, and everyone was doing it.

Well, you remember those games where you can lift up a person with just two fingers because you did the special chant? I thought this was something like that, so I was resisting being thrown onto the floor on my face. Like, no, I didn't believe that this guy was actually talking to God, and that this force that was making me hit the floor was God. I figured it was just, you know, the power of suggestion.

But the prophect did not like the topless skater very much on this account, so he planted this great huge treestump in front of me and told me that God would have his way with me. So then I got bodily sucked into this treestump and I was gone for a while.

Now, while I talk about "me" being the main character, I sort of was, except that the POV of the dream is actually some sort of semi-omnicient third person, so bear with me.

After a few minutes my body reappears piece by piece out of the treestump and then I believe, and I'm all apologetic, and I'll do whatever the prophet tells me. And what does the prophet tell me? That bisexual people are evil and will get thrown into the ovens. All products of bisexual unions will be thrown into the ovens. Gay is okay, straight is great, but bisexual is evil. Yeah, I don't get it either. So they take me to this hospital where a baby has just been born, and they take it over to the prophet who puts this newborn into a pie shell and starts laying strips of pastry over it while chanting "evil, evil, evil" over it.

Well, somehow during the topless skating and the live interrment I managed to get pregnant, which, since I'm a lesbian, would naturally be a bisexual act. I'm like, three minutes pregnant, and I'm terrified that theyr'e going to bake me into a pie. My girlfriend of the moment (in the dream, not real life) is doing backflips in the corridor (literally, just for fun) so I haven't managed to explain my situation to her in private yet, so I'm a mite annoyed with her. My father is going to drive us home, and for some reason I'm under the impression that, should my father find out about me being pregnant, it would be HIM who would bake me into a pie.

Pastry dreams. Is there a special category for that?

News pieces of interest (to me, at least)

MPs Should Back Same-Sex marriage: Politicians, regardless of their party affiliation, have an obligation to protect the equality of all Canadians.


Gay Marriage Restores Institution to Pagan Roots: The religious right forgets that the early Christian church refused to condone the pagan practice of marriage and did not bestow its blessing until 1753, when Lord Harwicke's Act required a cleric's blessing for a marriage to be legal in England. Until that time, the church ignored marriage, leaving it to common law. (I have to say I think this person is citing pagan-happy non-history and not actual history, but whatever.)

Church Braces for Gay Fallout: In the wake of Tuesday's confirmation of the Episcopal Church's — and the world's — first openly gay Anglican bishop, there is talk of schism, separation and defection in the air.

I'm not sure if this is a fabulous article really, but the opener is what makes me want to cite it: Kowtowing is No Sign of Strength: `In its relations with the U.S. these days, Canada feels a bit like a woman having an affair with the big rich man next door. She depends on him and he's a good provider, but he has a roving eye and a lot of other offers." In this view, Canada is as an anxious mistress, fearful that her wealthy playboy-lover will wander off, attracted by some more curvaceous, accommodating starlet. It's not a very flattering image, highlighting Canada's vulnerability and dependence — so perhaps it's not surprising that the lines were written by an American (former New York Times columnist James Reston). Given the rest of the paper, I think Canada should be a woman having an affair with the big rich woman next door, quite frankly.