Some of you (and you know exactly who you are) may be wondering that same all-engrossing question I often find myself asking: can we gain insight into the events of the future from our dreams? I have devoted the previous six months to studying this project in depth, and I will share a selection of my findings here. In sum, however, I would have to conclude that the answer is yes. We can predict all sorts of wacky shit from our dreams! (I am required here to include a disclaimer to meekly note that as the entirety of this dissertation relies on personal anecdotal evidence, it has no academic merit whatsoever, but please don't let that stop you from agreeing with the premise.)
Any truly intellectual analysis of this issue, which divides scientists and philosophers alike, must take into account the accuracy of the dreams of its author(s). As such, I will describe a few of my own dreams and determine whether they correctly predicted anything about my future.
Dream #1: The Best Day of My Life
I woke up bright and early one morning (except not actually, because I was dreaming) to find a package left at my doorstep with my name on it. No return address... very suspicious. I weighed my options and decided that I was probably not famous enough to have someone send me anthrax, so I opened it. It contained $500 in cash in an envelope that was hidden by those little styrofoam things (which are almost as great as money!). I was quite elated and tried to figure out who my lovely benefactor was, until my thought process came back to the fact that I had just scored a free five hundred big ones, and I realised that whoever this fellow was probably wished to remain anonymous, so the wisest course of action was to go out and spend it. After a rather exhausting walk around town, I noted that it was beginning to get dark and I was starting to run low on cocaine. It wasn't long after that I noted that I was now completely out of free money, and if I wished to continue gallivanting around town like the rich coke-addled big shot that I had always hoped to be, I would have to begin financing it myself. Unwilling to make this sacrifice, I walked home, made instant noodles, and went to bed.
Verdict: This particular dream has not, technically, manifested itself to be true in any way (except for the part about making instant noodles and going to bed, which is a pretty good description of mid-2008). It also does not disprove the hypothesis, and some of us around here are crossing our fingers for a box containing free money that should arrive any day now.
Dream #2: The Worst Day of My Life
This dream had no beginning. I only remember it because of its sheer horror: I was locked up in all these horrible chains, and some jerk wearing a black suit and a ski mask kept throwing this crap at me (which I eventually realised were highly rotten mashed potatoes - right around the time that he hit me in the face with it). After he had run out of mash, he dragged me by my chains (I'm assuming they weren't actually attached to anything) to the hood of his truck and beat me over the head with a two-by-four repeatedly until I lost consciousness. The dream continues in the hospital, where the doctor tells me that I remarkably haven't sustained any injuries from the savage beating, but while checking up on things they noticed a tumor the size of a grapefruit growing in my pancreas. Finding all of this just a tad difficult to process at once, I asked if the tumor was benign, at which point he began laughing hysterically. After he had calmed down a little, he told me that I probably had three weeks, tops, to live. There was an upside, though. I think the doc felt sort of guilty about the way he reacted to my question, so he went out and bought me a chocolate cake.
Verdict: This one was not entirely accurate on a few details, but essentially got it right in the end, namely that I have eaten chocolate cake many times. Needless to say, it is certainly a part of the conventional wisdom that chocolate cake functions as a comfort food for situations following extreme physical torture.
Dream #3: A Fairly Average Day
So I'm driving around in my orange minivan, eating Oreos and chatting on my phone to my all of my swell buds as I cruise around town, looking for a good time. Probably on account of all that attention I was paying to my phone, I ran over either a deer or a person; I can't be sure, because I was drunk, and I didn't stop.
Verdict: Well, okay, this one is pretty stupid. I don't even have an orange minivan. Alas, every successful venue of prediction and prophecy has its errors, so it should come as no surprise.
Dream #4: Every Other Dream I've Ever Had
Some people have recurring nightmares, but I tend to get a recurring mundane bore. These dreams invariably consist of me just sitting around, eating expired food or, worst of all, checking Facebook.
Verdict: Perhaps the most excellent indicator of my future that I have been able to find, or will ever find.
