night of 2/20/2012

1 i need to shit bad. i've moved into a dorm or run-down hotel with some friends and the squalor is unbearable, like a crack house, and the toilet is so filthy i have to look elsewhere. after wandering first into a hotel, then into an airport, finding only detestable toilets, i find a men's-room sign that leads me into the back rooms of the airport, stacked high with parts and machinery. i pass through one plastic-curtained doorway after another until finally a clean toilet appears. later i am retracing my steps in order to lead some others to it. now, though, the big back rooms are crawling with processions of hulks, either robots or men in heavy armor. we are forced to hide, and eventually to arm ourselves and fight. [i've had the dream of a search for a toilet before; in addition to filth, they also tend to have an exaggerated lack of privacy.]

2 i am in the audience of a trial. the defendant has produced an advertisement that has been found objectionable. (it involves a boat somehow; maybe promising it as a prize.) the prosecution exhibits other ad campaigns that accomplish similar goals, but are more tasteful. nearing the end of the prosecution--it's not clear that there will be a turn for defense--the prosecutor announces that the case will rest at 2:00 precisely, and he points to a clock high on the wall. it is encased in glass. the time is a few minutes shy of two. the judge, on this signal, throws a heavy object at the clock case, shattering it. i raise my hand and say i'd like to ask a question. (i did this once before, during the case, and was told to wait.) i'm aware that questions from the audience are unusual but feel compelled to try. now i am allowed, but time is almost up. "why didn't you set aside any time to discuss whether the actions of the defendant were in any way illegal?"