Afternoon.
No plans for tomorrow, unless I hazard going to ORLC. My dream last night might’ve been about Sue from church. By coincidence, she and Polly both live on S— Street but haven’t met. I dreamed that the woman in the basement knew Polly, and I had just been to Polly’s house, yet was surprised anyone else knew her. My own circle in the basement was supposed to be my separate and secret activity. Sometimes I dream that Sue holds meetings in a treehouse. But why do I see church as esoteric like a club or a cult? A superstitious thing. Hocus-pocus.
A treehouse and a basement are significant settings. How do I feel about the secret magic rites, mysticism, &c? So far, I can’t determine my attitude. I’m inclined to say it’s all BS. And yet the rhythm of the night differs from diurnal experience. The image of a treehouse is a little ridiculous and childish, almost parodic, and the parody gives a clue to attitude. I think I don’t take religious practice seriously. Frazer’s Golden Bough suggests itself again.
robgradens 