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Apr. 16th, 2007 06:20 pm
Last night I dreamed that I was living and working in a futuristic society. Not Star Trek advanced or sophisticated, just a little more advanced than what we currently have. I dreamed that I was working in a facility that resembled a hospital, or maybe a hospice or institution. Wherever it was, I think I was living in the same facility that I was working[1].
Anyway, I made and implemented a decision that went against the rules and regulations of where I was working. I don't remember what the decision was, only that it invovled a crisis of conscience. Unfortunately, the rule that I broke also incurred the legal penalty of death. However, due to the circumstances, my previous spotless record, the fact that I committed the crime out of conscience, and (I think) the fact that there was some further obligation that I had to fulfill which meant that I could not die immediately, I was given the choice to design my own punishment. Or in effect, my own death.
I should insert here that the state executioner, whom I was to meet in the futher course of this narrative, was an extremely likeable guy, who looked a lot like someone I work with[2], and who had been trained to execute people in a variety of ways, usually just by using brute force. Think of the Monk Anji from Rurouni Kenshin if you want a picture of what he could do with his bare hands.
Anyway, the punishment that I chose was that I would live for the next 20 years[3], living and working in the same job as before[4], but at five year intervals the executioner would come to visit me. Each time, he would strike me on the temple, using his trained ability to kill a quarter of my brain cells. In addition, during the time I was unconscious following the strike, he would take off either a hand or foot. At the end of 20 years, when he came the fourth time, he would kill all my remaining brain cells (sending me into a deep coma and take my last appendage. Then he would cut my throat[5].
Anyway, I spent the next 15 years or so more or less without incident. Whenever the executioner came to see me, I submitted to the punishment without complaint. In fact, we grew fond of each other, and would spend time just chatting. I was given prostheses to wear when he chopped my feet off, otherwise, everything continued pretty normally, except that after each punishment, my intellect dropped further and further, until I was only capable of simple tasks.
Finally, the day came for the last punishment. I was doing my daily round of tasks when the executioner came up behind me and hugged me. I knew what that meant, and I just froze. My brain by this time had regressed into something of a childlike state, and this time, for the first time, I burst into tears, simply crying, "I am afraid! I am afraid to die!" The executioner turned me around and held me until I stopped crying. Then he dried my eyes for me, took my head tenderly in his hands, and delivered the final blow.
I woke up crying.
[1] In my dream, this was not an unusual thing. In fact, it seemed to be the more common arrangement, which was one thing that made me think it was a different sort of society from what we have now.
[2] No, I don't suspect him of anything remotely like this dream, actually we are pretty good friends, ironically.
[3] In order to fulfill the abovementioned obligation.
[4] This was another artifact of the different society that I was living in, that you were, in effect, indentured in your job and barring extreme illness, would continue to carry out your tasks no matter what.
[5] Yeah, it sounds crazy to me, too. I can only assume that my other options were *worse*, or else I was acting as some kind of Ghandi--disobeying a law I disagreed with, but then submitting to full punishment because the law was the law. Or something. Or maybe I was just crazy.
Anyway, I made and implemented a decision that went against the rules and regulations of where I was working. I don't remember what the decision was, only that it invovled a crisis of conscience. Unfortunately, the rule that I broke also incurred the legal penalty of death. However, due to the circumstances, my previous spotless record, the fact that I committed the crime out of conscience, and (I think) the fact that there was some further obligation that I had to fulfill which meant that I could not die immediately, I was given the choice to design my own punishment. Or in effect, my own death.
I should insert here that the state executioner, whom I was to meet in the futher course of this narrative, was an extremely likeable guy, who looked a lot like someone I work with[2], and who had been trained to execute people in a variety of ways, usually just by using brute force. Think of the Monk Anji from Rurouni Kenshin if you want a picture of what he could do with his bare hands.
Anyway, the punishment that I chose was that I would live for the next 20 years[3], living and working in the same job as before[4], but at five year intervals the executioner would come to visit me. Each time, he would strike me on the temple, using his trained ability to kill a quarter of my brain cells. In addition, during the time I was unconscious following the strike, he would take off either a hand or foot. At the end of 20 years, when he came the fourth time, he would kill all my remaining brain cells (sending me into a deep coma and take my last appendage. Then he would cut my throat[5].
Anyway, I spent the next 15 years or so more or less without incident. Whenever the executioner came to see me, I submitted to the punishment without complaint. In fact, we grew fond of each other, and would spend time just chatting. I was given prostheses to wear when he chopped my feet off, otherwise, everything continued pretty normally, except that after each punishment, my intellect dropped further and further, until I was only capable of simple tasks.
Finally, the day came for the last punishment. I was doing my daily round of tasks when the executioner came up behind me and hugged me. I knew what that meant, and I just froze. My brain by this time had regressed into something of a childlike state, and this time, for the first time, I burst into tears, simply crying, "I am afraid! I am afraid to die!" The executioner turned me around and held me until I stopped crying. Then he dried my eyes for me, took my head tenderly in his hands, and delivered the final blow.
I woke up crying.
[1] In my dream, this was not an unusual thing. In fact, it seemed to be the more common arrangement, which was one thing that made me think it was a different sort of society from what we have now.
[2] No, I don't suspect him of anything remotely like this dream, actually we are pretty good friends, ironically.
[3] In order to fulfill the abovementioned obligation.
[4] This was another artifact of the different society that I was living in, that you were, in effect, indentured in your job and barring extreme illness, would continue to carry out your tasks no matter what.
[5] Yeah, it sounds crazy to me, too. I can only assume that my other options were *worse*, or else I was acting as some kind of Ghandi--disobeying a law I disagreed with, but then submitting to full punishment because the law was the law. Or something. Or maybe I was just crazy.
