THE EXPERIENCE MACHINE, PART II.

I’ve had this dream repeatedly, of an experience machine. It lies in a building in a kind of Communist neighborhood, as if it has been abandoned, and also as if it is open to the public.

This time, when I was through with my experiences (as often happens), I was led down a short corridor by previous participants.

A ‘commando’ told us ‘there was only one line, because everyone who looks at this juncture in the corridor wants to get back their body, and there is only one way to get back TO the body.’

But then I mentioned that I have an argument for my experiences. ‘In that case’ he said, ‘There is another line: you can go to the head of the line’.

I mumbled, waking up in the middle:

It must have been the judge!

[And, I’m not a pancake!
Well, the language comes from my body!
But the thoughts may or may not be something I’m responsible for…]

THE EXPERIENCE MACHINE, PART I.

I had a dream some years ago:

There was a derelict machine in a Communist neighborhood, an Experience Machine that could fulfill one's dreams. The only problem was, you lost your body. It would assist in realizing any sort of fantasy. And the fantasy was perhaps, not real.

The first time I went to the machine there were no written instructions that I remember. I simply strapped into a padded white table with a bend in the middle, and had the most wonderful dream, only it was very short. It was an idea of genius.

"You won't have that idea again!" A commandant said, when I awoke from the table.

Then I simply left the building, feeling very sad. I was guilty of heroin, without taking the drug.