Why is it that dreams have no beginning and no end? How is it?

We were all sitting in the university amphitheater, which was somehow also a cosmos. There were several of us, yet somehow we were also several thousand. And several of those, as well. Like stars. The more you look, the more you see. Between each two of us was another. Und so weiter.

We were paying close attention to the Professor in our various idiosyncratic ways. Note-taking. Earbuds. Pencil-twirling. Checking out the good-looking one three rows down and two seats to the left. You know.

Me, I was watching the video of the lecture on my iBook. It was easier on the neck. The cameraperson was good at tracking the Peripatetic professor.

The Prof was animated and was desperate to look like she cared. He spoke excitedly and paced back and forth in front of the blackboard, which looked like the big display on the bridge of the Starship Enterprise. When she stopped to write a highly abstracted point on the blackboard, all the nearby stars were attracted to her chalk tip and rearranged to spell the message. He told a joke each time she reached the right end of the board. We soon began to laugh just before he got there, earlier and earlier each time. Soon, we were all laughing all the time and the class was over.

After the bell, the Prof. said, "Your assignment for tomorrow is two-fold. 1) Ponder the difference between import and relevance. 2) Create a universe based on your conclusion. 3) Go to heaven and find Thomas Henry Huxley and tell him. He may be happy to hear the news.

Also, note your degree of surprise when the concept of Zen becomes laughingly simple but also trivial. Your grade will be based on this measure. We moaned and groaned in ardor and filed out the left exit, which led, obviously, directly to the right entrance.

I woke up with the thought that this is an entry for the Masquerade. Screw your rules.

But then I fell asleep again and realized that I was now awake and felt a bit silly.

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