a quote and its rebuttal

From a friend's quote blog:

“Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air - explode softly - and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air. Floating down to earth - boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn't go cheap, either - not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination.” (Robert Fulghum)

This sounds like a great idea on the surface...except when you consider how many of a nation’s children would perish from eating them or sticking them up their noses.  I mean, we're talking potentially HUNDREDS of millions of crayons per crisis here.  Plus there's nothing stopping the adults in charge from dismantling and mining the thousands or millions of built-in sharpeners for their sharp bits with which to arm their militaries, creating more crises, prompting still more crayon "beauty bombs", more crayons fatally lodged in young sinus cavities and digestive tracts, etc., as the world spirals happily into a dreadful yet colorful Armageddon while an omnipotent Crayola LLC smiles benevolently down upon us all. :-)

a dream

A dream:

Road trip to an unidentified place. A rest stop somewhere in the desert. Things are kind of fuzzy at this point, but we reach our destination after a fashion, apparently a hotel. I find myself sharing a room with someone I know, let's call her Misty. We might have been at this place for any length of time. In the next moment we wind up at some sort of rehearsal for a play, or choir number, or a play with choir numbers - again, the nature of the event is mostly unknown to me, but Misty is to be honored in it. I find myself sitting next to and conversing with a different girl, call her Shoes, and warming up to her rather nicely. We are sitting in the area where the audience will be when we actually perform this, while Misty is doing something else on stage. I finish my current conversation with Shoes, then get up and leave the room to wander about the building we are in - which turns out to be a major church building, as everyone is dressed in Sunday clothes, and the decor is akin to that which you might find in a temple visitor center or even an actual temple. This particular building has five floors, and I wander aimlessly through them, finding scale models of the Garden of Eden, beautiful murals on the walls, and so on - in fact I am nearly convinced that I am in the temple itself, until I look out one of the large picture windows and see it partially concealed by trees across the way.

I wake up at this point, and not being able to drag myself out of bed promptly fall back asleep...

...and now I'm in the home I grew up in in California, apparently a couple of days later, with at least my brother and sister (n.b. - I don't in fact have a sister), sitting by a computer and fretting that we had another practice that night in a couple of hours. This is a problem, considering I do not remember where the last rehearsal was, except that it was at the end of the road trip I took in the first dream. I try frantically to look it up on Google Maps to see if I can remember, rejecting various locations as being too far off to reach in time, but nothing comes to me...

...and that's when I wake up properly and fail to go to church, yay. So it goes.