CSI: Dream

Last night I had a crazy weird dream I was in one of those CSI: Cuttin’ Up a Cadavar shows.  Originally there was much confusion in the dream; I appeared to be a character whose memory had been wiped out, at least for the past twenty-four hours or so.  Highly strange and very, very disconcerting.  I woke up in one of those dirty, rusty, pipe-filled Saw rooms.  Like I said, unnerving to the nth degree.

Then I moved about from room to room.  I discovered I was in an abandoned school.  I glanced out a window and saw a lake.  Then I spotted activity on the far side of the lake.  Policemen.  Plain-clothes detectives.  Yellow POLICE LINE tape.  Measurements being taken, men with latex gloves poking about here and there.

There was a murder out over on the lake.

Why have I no memory of the past twenty-four hours?

Someone suddenly called my name.  A detective came over, had me hold hold then end of a tape measure for some reason.  Ah!  I was a member of the PD.  I, too, was plain-clothes. 

That’s when I knew I was in a teevee show.  Because then I heard the soundtrack!  Yeah, it swelled up as we were going to commercial break.  I was trapped in a meta-hip, self-serious, over-produced, too-cool-to-be-cynical-but-too-cynical-to-be-cool, post-modern American crime teevee show.  The reason I knew is that they took an 80s pop song and inserted it for all the double-entendre it was worth:

“Cuts Like a Knife,” by Bryan Adams

Wake me up!  Waaaaaaaake me uppppp!!!!!

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N.B. Here’s a funnier take on the whole CSI thing …