Blog of Bermanism

I woke up yesterday morning after having a really odd dream. I was standing in some mythical location that looked a lot like the bay area, except that there was a lot less city, the surroundings were a lot more tropical, and there were way more craggy rocks around the Golden Gate. Oh, and there wasn’t a bridge there. Anyway, I was standing on the shore opposite the Golden Gate (essentially in Oakland) with Rachel and Sasha and we were looking out over the water towards the ocean. The sun was setting, it was beautiful. Out of nowhere, the space shuttle took off from the middle of the bay and started to climb up in the air. After a few seconds of climbing into the air, the shuttle unfurled a number of old Spanish armada-style sails out of the top of its hull. This all seemed perfectly normal to me. It made perfect sense that the launching space shuttle, which was launching straight off of the water in the middle of a bay that doesn’t exist, would unfurl some sails to help it on its way into orbit. Obviously.

After a few more seconds of sail powered vertical ascent, something very bad happened with the shuttle. It started to tilt in the direction of the sails (downdrafts?), and then the massive plume of fire and smoke coming from its thrusters shut off all together. The shuttle then dropped like a lead brick back to Earth and exploded the instant it came into contact with the water, sending out this massive shockwave that moved very quickly towards us. I had just enough time to throw Rachel and Sasha to the ground before I felt the shockwave approaching and promptly woke up.

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