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Why I Hate Dreams by Michael Chabon | NYRblog | The New York Review of Books
An image from Winsor McCay’s Little Nemo in Slumberland I hate dreams. Dreams are the Sea Monkeys of consciousness: in the back pages of sleep they promise us teeming submarine palaces but leave us, on waking, with a hermetic residue of freeze-dried dust. The wisdom of dreams is a fortune on paper…