Visions of HTS codes floating in my head
I dreamt about the Harmonized Tariff System last night. In particular, I dreamt about US tariff codes for various healthy foodstuffs.
In my dream, the most important thing about the food I ate was that its ingredients should fall under the fewest number of tariff codes possible, particularly those tariff codes which represent various chemical products. So a lot of the dream involved reading tariff codes.
So I guess I had a health-food tariff code dream. Makes sense actually, since yesterday I looked at tariff codes from 10 am to 3 pm, and again from 7 pm to 2 am. In between, I ate organic peanut butter with organic wild strawberry jelly on 12 grain bread.
The worst part is that I woke up with a great sense of satisfaction and a feeling of inner peace and wellbeing. I think my subconscious actually enjoys looking up tariff codes.
In my dream, the most important thing about the food I ate was that its ingredients should fall under the fewest number of tariff codes possible, particularly those tariff codes which represent various chemical products. So a lot of the dream involved reading tariff codes.
So I guess I had a health-food tariff code dream. Makes sense actually, since yesterday I looked at tariff codes from 10 am to 3 pm, and again from 7 pm to 2 am. In between, I ate organic peanut butter with organic wild strawberry jelly on 12 grain bread.
The worst part is that I woke up with a great sense of satisfaction and a feeling of inner peace and wellbeing. I think my subconscious actually enjoys looking up tariff codes.
posted by Nixie at 9:47 AM
1 Comments:
I dreamt that I was hallucinating dead people, and managed to get locked in a VA psych ward. A "mistake" put me into the same cell as a formerly homeless Vietnam grunt who was easily more frightening than the dead. Unable to escape, the dead, who I finally noticed enjoyed none of the usual ghostly powers (for example they hads to open doors, counldn't pass through walls, etc), explained that I was not hallucinating: I was the only one who could see them. A kind of perverted Buddhism had led the evil and the powerful to hit upon immortality without eternal youth, or even basic metabolism, as a penalty worse than capital punishment. Like death camp internees, they were doomed to slave at munitions production until they decayed, and they would remain conscious after they were no longer even slime and dust. They were not invisible: everyone saw them, but the strange credulity that lets someone dismiss all conspiracy theory without consideration as uniformly crazy, but sincerely believe that a Vietnamese patrol raft would shoot at an American battleship or a vet would let a scrawny hippie spit on him, ensured that everyone just whispered to themselves that they did not see what was in front of them. In did they did not. This made for awkward moments when a subway seat had to be surrendered, but the dead had no hope of winning such contests. Of course, telling the psychs I had this whole government conspiracy explanation for why I saw dead people no one else did only certified my craziness. It was then that I gave up hope, until the floor came away and a tsunami of stinking dirt rushed me to safety in Canada even as it flooded and drowned the manicured three piece suit wearing heads of the state. Because the new conciousness was unkillable, because it remained after the body was no longer a body, it also remained in the nitrogen and organic particles in the soil. It took years of experimentation but the bodiless dead became able to manipulate the soil itself. They used violence to force recognition of their rights, hurried the decay process for those still stuck with decaying bodies, parcelled out spaces for themselves in the farming country, and became something like earth spirits fostering low-tech farmers and personally effecting agricultural miracles.
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