I am in a strange city. I enter a small, low, concrete building. It is the Gif Factory. Inside it is packed with people producing animated gifs using analog film slides. I want to join in, but the rooms are so full I cannot open the door enough to squeeze in.
I decide to leave the city, and head to Birmingham. I am joined by a Devonshire bouncer, who warns me about leaving the city.
We approach a group of people. The bouncer warns me that they don’t use money, and don’t buy anything. In his eyes this is a terrible thing. As we get closer I see that it is like a festival, with individuals and small groups creating unique things.
I walk to the centre and climb onto a vehicle. I pick up a piece of furry cloth and spin it around my head while blowing into the end. It becomes a furry, spinning didgeridoo. (Freud would love this!)
The natives are impressed. They’ve never seen or heard such a thing.
We walk on, back into my world. The bouncer is happy. I tell him people here have money and buy things. Each house is lit up with neon advertising. The streets are packed with vehicles. I am both glad to be back, and sad that everything revolves around money.
I am at work. I have to complete a basic skills assessment. I’m worried that I can’t remember how to do long division. It’s been years since I did it manually.
I awake, and briefly, my field of vision is filled with a rainbow hued flattened cerebellum.