Last night I dreamt I was a secret agent seeking the real headquarters of Fox News
But let me backtrack.
I just woke up from a really weird-ass dream:
In the dream, I was a mild-mannered art preservationist. I was working in a poorly-lit library, poring over old art-history books to get a feel and context for some ancient mural I would be in charge of restoring. I was talking to my new boss, chatting about this and that, when I realized it was lunch time--clearly, that meant it was time to go hunt for the secret headquarters of Fox News!
So I get on some fancypants silver bullet-looking train heading way fast way out of town. There's a lot of suspicious types on the train, but also just regular commuters and family. Unlucky for me the only empty seats are behind two jerks in plain suits. It becomes clear they are jerks when they lean their seats back so far they are practically horizontal, and my knees are completely crushed. I ask them to move the seats up because I'm losing feeling in my legs but instead they repeatedly raise and lower the seat back, essentially punching me in the knees repeatedly.
So I slam the seat up to get out of there, pushing one dude hard into the seat in front of him.
He bites me on the nose.
I start screaming about how I'm going to call the police and he's screaming that he's going to sue me and I get out of the seat and go to the back of the train. All the empty seats are covered in packages, and the large family whose packages these are claims they're waiting for friends to sit there. Typical.
The only other empty seat is next to some sleeping shirtless dude lying halfway over the other seat, so I gingerly sit on the edge of this seat and feel my unfortunate nose--not broken or bleeding, but damn sore.
Suddenly the train stops at some random out of the way town and the plaid suit guys and others get off. I realize I'm starting to run out of lunch break so I decide to get off, take the other train back, and hunt Fox News another day.
But when I hop off the train, there's a big wooden building with barbed wire and cobwebs and the words "Fox News" handpainted in toddler-class hand-lettering, looks like the fake front on a movie set. And the building is empty.
Then my train rushes by on a nearby track and I see everyone else who was looking for Fox News realize they've missed it and start running after it. I run for a bit too, but when I start losing my breath and losing sight of the train, I remember that I can fly.
Unfortunately, the plaid suit guys see me flying, and when I fly over their heads, one of them pushes me, sending me skidding through the air right into the path of an oncoming helicopter.
I manage to dodge the helicopter but then found myself on a bridge in the path of an oncoming train. I jumped away onto the railing but there was some crazy car chase going on with some gangster silver-gray 1930s kind of car coming at me with machine guns blaring, and an airplane coming from another direction...
So I jumped. Into the water. And immediately felt a vise-like grip tighten around my ankles, pulling me down into the dark water.
I thought I was going to drown. But moments later I found myself in an underwater waiting room. Apparently I could breathe underwater. It was a crowded waiting room, with lots of folks in line to hunt down Fox News' secret underwater bunker.
So I took a ticket.
And then I woke up. Yeesh! I can't even escape Rupert Murdoch in my sleep!
Seriously though, I bet I had this dream because I worked as an information graphics journalist for three years at the excellent Wall Street Journal (the news side, not the editorial page, of course!) and was horrified to hear about Murdoch's recent $60-a-share bid for Dow Jones. As for the art preservationist bit, I fell asleep last night reading a book about Diego Rivera's Detroit Industry murals.
We now return to our regularly scheduled blogging and cartooning...
Labels: journalism, media, weird
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