Dreams are clues to personal potential, but they also hint at our potential as an evolving race of post-human cyborgs. Dreams are perfect for hacking. They are the biological half of a neural interface to a shared, interactive cyberspace (one that will actually appear spacial!)
The reason that dreams seem so strange is that the server is down, and will remain down until we can build it.
Dreams are a placeholder for something great to come. What we get when we lay our heads on the un-sync-able ipod dock of our pillows at night is a glitchy feedback loop. Echoes upon echoes of our own psyche are amplified back onto themselves ad infinitum, stretching ourselves and our most meaningful memories into grotesque or sentimental parodies of themselves.
When we sleep we are standing between two parallel funhouse mirrors, unaware that we are lost in a maze. We will each continue to stare at our unfamiliar selves until technology helps us locate each other. Together we can navigate out of this maddening funhouse into a world of limitless possibilities.
This year, millions all over the world went to see Inception and Avatar. And when that infernal top refused to tumble, Nolan buried deep in our minds this idea: the closest thing we currently have to a shared dreamstate is when we convene in the cushioned seats of the cinema. Christopher Nolan and James Cameron are the architects of intricate dreamworlds that nearly the entire world entered into and played out the same experiences. The dreams they created seemed to be pointing toward what dreams are capable of becoming. If we want more we need to build a neural interface, lie down at the roots of the Pandora in-tree-net and log in to a world where cubicles fade away and we can all ride our dragons in aerial synchronicity.