I was in a strange room with several people I knew, and we appeared to be setting up for some kind of slumber party. For my own bedding, I had three cushioned chairs that could unfold--these are generally sold as products for children:
Instead of transforming them into beds, I had lined them up while still in chair form. A tan girl with short hair was wearing a backless outfit, and I reached out to her to get her to come sleep on the bed with me. When we tried to lay on the chairs, they went flying in all directions. Frustrated, she made a comment to someone who looked like a guy I know.
girl: "I can't sleep on his bed any more."
guy: "You can sleep here with me..."
girl: "With an egomaniac like you? Forget it! You're still all puffed up about that time on Slashdot, where people said the math problem you invented should be taught in school!"
Somehow I transitioned from this to looking at a Google Map. It was the result of a service which would automatically redirect web links from other mapping services to Google Maps. I was concerned about an issue with domain names, so I'd gone into a whois system to see who was running a certain site--like what was claiming to be yahoo.com. The DNS interface did not resemble what I am familiar with, and I saw that the service was advertising "registering Google domains".
Becoming more lucid, I realized I was holding what felt like a perfectly two-dimensional square in my hands. It was playing a music video by someone who was credited as "April Ash3r". I had the vague notion that she had been part of a set of twins, like the Olsens.
The substitutions of numbers, like 3 for the letter E, is something common in hacker culture.
Somewhat relaxed, I thought about what it would be like to just watch the music video and not run around in a panic. I made things happen by talking. At one point I forgot the name of the artist, and just said "Can you show me the album cover again?" It went back and I could read April Ash3r again. A guy with a goatee started handing me various flyers advertising bands, some of which I had the feeling I had made--even though I don't think I have.
me: "A little trip down memory lane... heh. And to think I believed it was brilliant art. It wasn't that good, but the code's in it. Do they actually think they can copy this stuff and we won't find out?"
At one point I picked up a foil package which was labeled simply "bd". It seemed to have contained 8 red gumdrop-like things, and only one of them was left. I bit it out of the package and had the chewy thing in my mouth. The guy with the goatee who had been handing me flyers seemed to get a concerned look.
me: "Um. Is this... a bad idea to eat?"
goatee guy: "I don't know about 'bad idea'...but it's not that much fun."
me: "Oh. A recreational drug? Will it affect me after I wake up?"
goatee guy: "Nope."
me: "So I can try it out here in the dream and just see whatever it does?"
goatee guy: "Sure."
My lucidity came back a bit.
me: "Okay, now back to the usual questions. What is going on? How did I get here? Who are you and why is this stuff all separated from my day?"
goatee guy: "There just came a time when technology had advanced to where it could do pretty much anything that anyone could imagine. As you've doubtlessly gathered by now, the consequences of that isn't precisely what you would call Utopia."
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