Tony dreams. Often. Sometimes I am sure he fabricates them or at least adds a little enhancement, but other times it is just too fantastic not to believe.

When he was really young there was the witch nightmare. Perhaps influenced by the Wizard of Oz or that crazy banshee from Darby O’Gill and the Little People, it featured some ominous figure in robes who cackled and chased the poor boy. The setting was some large office building. He was hiding in one of the offices, underneath a large wooden desk. The witch had cornered him and was walking toward his hiding place, only her feet visible, and she was calling his name: “Oh Tonyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy!”

So far it’s a typical nightmare, right? Well, the kicker is that she was trying to catch him so she could steal his back. Yes, she wanted to steal his back, spine and all. I don’t know what this means nor how it would actually play out, but he was petrified of having some gaping hole between his neck and his butt.

And then there were the series of murder dreams. In which he was the murderer. One featured Tony with a machine gun standing in front of a line of people, shooting them “BANGBANGBANGBANG” one at a time. One. At. A. Time.

The worst of these, darker dreams, was the puppy massacre. Tony was working an assembly line. Only, he was actually disassembling. A conveyor belt ran in front of him, and on this belt were little puppies. As each one reached him he would pick it up in one hand and stick it with the syringe he held in the other. The syringe was filled with poison, and when he stuck the poor defenseless puppies they bodies would twitch and they would expire. And he’d set it down and wait for the next one to come along. When he told me this one, I couldn’t stand within 10 feet of him for days at a time.

I don’t often hear of positive or happy dreams, so perhaps he doesn’t have them or perhaps he doesn’t mention them because they don’t support his image. However, this morning’s recitation was a sort of revelation:

“Intelligent design is just creationism in a cheap tuxedo. All of this shit about school districts trying to incorporate ‘intelligent design’ theory into their biology classes, offering disclaimers before they teach evolution, saying its only a theory! Bullshit. I talked to god last night, for real, like burning bush stuff, and he even said it was all crap.”

“Wait, Tony, you talked to god last night in your dream?”

“Yeah.”

“And he told you he didn’t create the universe?”

“Well, sorta. We just had a conversation in which he confessed that it is all in our head. It was like one of those moments when you are stoned and all of everything makes sense. Only, we were at the table sharing coffee and discussing the phenomenon of projection.”

“Projection?”

“Yeah, how we see things and look for the well-designed aspect of them, how we expect them to make sense and so they do. Oh. And god was actually Michael Stipe.”

“Michael Stipe is god?”

“Well, sorta, yeah. But doesn’t make sense? Haven’t you always expected it?”

“So this was your epiphany?”

“No, it was what I dreamt about last night. But I believe it is true. That’s why science is so in to dissecting things, because smaller things are easier to project upon. Whereas natural disasters are more difficult, which is why it causes people to question their faith. Or scientists can’t yet find their grand unified theory. Get too big and it doesn’t work. You have to fit it in your mind.”

“And not everyone’s head is as big as yours.”

“Whatever. Get out of my face or I’ll have Michael smite you.”