I perceived that I was in the body of a small boy, in a messy kitchen. So I started looking at the products in it. There was a certain brand of cereal that came in a stark white box. It was either called "New York Times" cereal, or was just heavily branded at the top as being "brought to you by the New York Times".
Note
The idea of keywords identifying information sources being drowned out by marketing for products intentionally given the same name first made a dream appearance in Eat Your Yamli
There were various sizes of this box. When opened--each contained a stack of shallower boxes. Sometimes there was one single inner box that was roughly the size of the outer box. I picked up some of the boxes, and sat them down in front of me in what appeared to be a living room...and began questioning a man in a blue outfit with a hat that the letter "P" on it.
me: "What is this cereal. Why does it need so many boxes?"
mr p: "Because they send them in packs and want to keep the packs together."
me: (holding up the single) "But this one only has one in it. Why does it need the outer box?"
mr p: "Well that's just the campaign. It's like when they were trying to sell people circuit boards, they had the 'grab-N-go' campaign. Marketing genius."
Note
At the time I didn't understand what that had to do anything. But I guess in retrospect it seems he was saying that the marketing on the outer box might be different, and they might not have wanted to repack the inner box.
Another man walked in and seemed to be giving envelopes to the P man.
man: "That's my birth-certificate... everything should be in order."
me: (to Mr. P) "Why is it that you are taking his birth certificate?"
mr p: "Because I'm the person who collects all the information."
me: "It would be much better if information were collected by an organization that was transparent about its methods and did not leave someone's personal information at the whims of one individual."
mr p: (laughing) "Oh is that right?"
I was annoyed that he seemed to not take me seriously, perhaps because he thought I was a child. This made me decide to "blow cover" by mentioning something from this universe.
me: (menacingly) "And if you don't get with that program yourself, Skynet is going to take care of making sure you do."
There was another part of a house where a woman, who I presumed might be the mother of the child who I was "channeling" through. She was in a jacuzzi of some kind. I dangled my feet in, eventually realizing that my whole body was getting wet as the small pool grew into a larger pool, and more people showed up in it. One attractive young girl swam over to me and began to kiss me.
girl: "Let's go upstairs..."
I followed her up some narrow stairs, which led to what looked a bit like a laboratory. She was twiddling some instruments on a table, the dream seemed to fade a bit and I caught a flash of a domain name that said 71.science.mandymoore.com.
Note
Mandy Moore is a singer, not someone I follow.
me: "I... well, I have to warn you, I am not who you might think I am."
girl: (smirking) "In either case, I trust you to be preservative."
me: "Oh... you know about that? Modeling God as the great preservative."
girl "Yes and I think we disagree on that."
Note
I was assuming she was making an allusion to Let God Be Your Preservative
me: "You have to have priorities. But why destroy things, even bad ones? You might need them some day."
I paced around in circles to try and stay in the dream.