Tag Archives: weird dreams

I had a dream

I was looking out the window at a squalid landscape of abandoned factories and railroad tracks. Maybe I lived in Baltimore! An inner city elementary school field trip happened to walk by, lead by two well-meaning white thirty-seven-year-olds wearing Tevas. The female teacher was trying to get the kids excited about the artistic style of the graffiti, but the kids were slouching and scowling and pulling their pants up so they could walk. There were mutterings from the class that art is “gay.”

Lady teacher asks “But what about Spanish artists, don’t you like them?”

“I’m motherfucking Puerto Rican, you bitch!” yelled the last kid in the line.

The male teacher pipes in “What about GOYA, he made some badass shit!”

Lady teacher says “Spanish people sure do love GOYA. They eat it for dinner. How crazy is that?”

And the two teachers laughed together, and the kids hucked rocks from the railroad bed at them.


I woke up going: Damn, damn, damn.


Last night I dreamed I was on a train, but terrorists hopped on and threatened to blow it up. That’s scary! So I asked them if they really thought they were spinning their message so that the average American could understand just why they were upset. They scratched their heads, so I seized the opportunity and continued explaining targeted media buys and market segmentation. They had NO concept of the real purpose of their organization, just some hastily envisioned objectives. That’s fine, but without a purpose, it’s hard to generate Measurable Business Results and determine success metrics. So we let everyone off the train and worked on a high level strategy document, and that’s how I become a consultant, working out of an abandoned storm drain in Topeka or somewhere like that.

We realized there was no consistent face of the organization besides Bin Laden, and he did not test well in focus groups, especially in the midwest. Also, people were having a hard time pronouncing Al Qaeda, so we went with the more youthful “AQ.” We also tapped a high visibility spokesperson in the form of Shaq. Shaq for AQ: it’s a no-brainer. With a series of billboards and radio commercials, the average American’s awareness of the specifics of the Arab world’s gripes with the US became heightened. We also launched a product line of jeans and aftershave, moving them out of the pure service category. I finally got to meet Katie Couric, and I wore the best pair of shoes on Oprah. In an unprecedented response to a direct mailing, The American people rose up and exiled GW Bush to an island overrun with feral pigs. And AQ forget all about killing people and extended their brand to previously untapped markets in China.

I totally cleaned up at the IPO.