Breaking Point?

I dreamed, first person, that I was on a stage behind two presenters in an opulent classical theater. The spotlight was on the presenters seated at a desk and facing the audience. The audience was only dimly lit, perhaps at most reflection of the stage lights; it was hard for me to see because the brilliant spotlights obstructed my vision. No one acknowledged my presence.

As if I was a first-person-limited floating camera, my point of view would shift around just like cuts in a video production. The show on stage was like a news or news commentary show with a live audience. The two presenters were bantering about about the corruption of political leaders and hypocrisies of mainstream pandemic thinking with sardonic smirks (I imagine, since I mostly saw them from behind). The crowd quietly laughed or excitedly murmured at the jokes but never erupted in laughter.

Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez stood up from among the crowd. She yelled indignantly about the same news, interjecting facts about the injustices of corruption. The hosts shuffled papers on their desk but mostly continued. The crowd’s murmurs were uncomfortable now. For a moment, the crowd started taking her side.

But the hosts’ mics were louder, the lights were on them, and (perhaps because they were funny, which is less uncomfortable?), the crowd returned to side with the hosts. Since the hosts wouldn’t change their tone, AOC threw up her hands and left, flanked by her boyfriend and perhaps a camera or journalist.  They exited through double doors in the back, which let in a beam of light before the doors closed.

Epilogue

Reflecting on this dream a few days later, I bet that the newscasters represent Saagar and Krystal, TYT, or the mainstream news whenever they happen to be critical, like the Daily Show, John Oliver, and Bill Maher.

IIRC, that’s why John Stewart got out of the biz for a while. The corruption isn’t funny. It steals our money, interrupts BIPOC lives, and kills our young men and women in uniform. Et fucking cetera.