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The collected opinions of an august and aristocratic personage who, despite her body having succumbed to the ravages of time, yet retains the keen intellect, mordant wit and utter want of tact for which she was so universally lauded in her younger days. Being of a generation unequal to the mysterious demands of the computing device, Lady Bracknell relies on the good offices of her Editor for assistance with the technological aspects of her journal.

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Location: Bracknell Towers

Tuesday, September 13, 2005

Lady Bracknell's dream

Lady Bracknell is well aware that, to those who do not know her intimately, she gives the impression of being as tough as old boots. This morning, however, she is much distressed as the result of having had a most unpleasant dream.

In her dream, Lady Bracknell had been diagnosed as having a cancerous growth on one of her feet. Her ladyship's osteopath - a professional in whom she has placed much trust for the better part of a decade - had persuaded her to allow him to dispatch her humanely by way of lethal injection so that she might be spared the deterioration into madness which, he told her, would be the inevitable result of the spread of the cancer.

Having bid a formal adieu to her family members, Lady Bracknell set off, firm of purpose, to meet her end. As is ever the way with dreams, her osteopath's office had inexplicably moved from its current location to a room at the top of a flight of stairs in Lady Bracknell's old alma mater. Having spent some time threading through the corridors of her old educational establishment, Lady Bracknell finally arrived at the foot of said staircase only to encounter a senior member of staff from the days when she was in gainful employment. This individual, having recognised the strain which must have been evident in her ladyship's features, insisted on making her a cup of tea and "talking it through".

The upshot of this dialogue was that her ladyship decided that she now chose not to die before her time. The planned meeting with the osteopathic gentleman then ensued. Although he did agree to Lady Bracknell's decision, she could see that he was much angered at having been thwarted in his lethal purpose and she was unsure that he could be trusted to restrain his murderous tendencies during subsequent treatments. At this point, Lady Bracknell is relieved to report, she woke from her slumbers.

Regular readers who have been paying close attention will be aware that Lady Bracknell visits her osteopath this very afternoon. Although, in her heart of hearts, she knows that he will be both amused and sympathetic when she recounts her nightmare to him, and that he is unlikely to wish to kill her if only because she is, if nothing else, an extremely profitable client, she wonders if she should go armed?

So distressed is her ladyship by this dream that it is her current intention to remain awake indefinitely.

Any reader who feels capable of submitting a definitive analysis of Lady Bracknell's dream is invited to do so via the "comments" facility.


Blogger marmiteboy said...

I think the dream can be easily interpreted.

Lady B was, I hear on the good authority of her secretary companion, with whom I am acquainted, was once a highly thought of chairman (she would never stoop so low as to be monikered with some other feminist title such as chairperson) of a large and well thought of committee that looked after the handicapped in their place of work.

During a agressive take over by another company Lady B's position was jeopodised and her future role became unclear.

My analysis of her dream is that her osteopath represents the company taking over Lady B's employer and her senior manager represents her friends and associates pleading with her not to throw in the towel. We can see from the osteopath's reaction to Lady B's stalward decision to carry on, which has always been one of her most delightful character traits, has upset the apple cart.

I believe, that though disturbing to the good Lady, this is a positive dream. In it she made a decision. She chose the path of resistance rather than path of capitulation which the evil osteopath so readily wanted.

Take heart dear Lady, you are made of stern stuff. Your fortiude in the face of adversity is something that we could all learn from.

9:24 am  
Anonymous Sigmund said...

Vell, let me see... Of course, I cannot conduct a proper analysis vissout a full interview viz zee Lady in question. Hovever, zee foot in zee dreams has become cancerous, nicht? And zet zee osteopath suggests that madness – disease of zee brain, at zee ozzer end of zee body - is an inevitable consequence. I consider that a growth or protuberance of any kind, indeed, any object which is longer zan it is vide, symbolises the penis, which all females vish to possess.

Zee osteopath attempts to thwart zee possession of zee penis, vith zees lies about madness. Zee patient has transferred her own feelings of guilt and shame onto zis patriarchal figure, symbolising not an external figure, but a part of her id. Zee male psyche being dominant in all human relations, zee osteopath’s arguments are at first, entirely convincing.

Vandering round zee corridors and zee long staircase relate to zee female plumbing and symbolise self-exploration. Having so explored oneself, zee patient is met by a friendly face, who as Herr Marmite correctly deduces, symbolise zee patient’s friends and associate who add credence to her existing suspicions about zee osteopath’s advice.

Had zee dream resolved at zis point, zee conflict vould have been shown to be resolved; zee patient would have gained completion and rejected zee suppressive influences of zee id. However, zee angst-vidden conclusion suggests that zee patient continues to experience some element of shame and doubt about something zat she does which makes her feel complete. Some uncertainty, which alzough she can easily dismiss wizzin zee logical realm of zee ego, awaits full resolution below zee surface.

Eezzer zat, or it vas just a daft dream.

11:13 am  
Anonymous Dude said...

For your comfort and reassurance ma'am, you should be aware that your chauffeur will be carrying a stick this afternoon and will not be afraid to use it should the consultant demonstrate the least hint of unwelcome letahal intent.

12:27 pm  
Blogger Charlesdawson said...

Mr Dawson presents his compliments to Lady Bracknell (and also to Miss Goldfish and Young Master Marmite) and is glad to report that he has found a suitable if temporary communications venue.

Temporary meaning an hour at a time, I had better get on with it. Lady Bracknell may be comforted to know that, notwithstanding the cocaine-sodden Freud will certainly have concocted some nonsense about feet in dreams, the excellent Jung, not to mention Adler, will certainly have rubbished his findings. Only to be duffed-up in their turn.

Mr Dawson suggests that the good Lady expends no more time in worrying about her dream, but considers instead what it was that she ate or drank nearest to going to bed. Lobsters and/or toasted cheese are particularly contra-indicated.

Having made safe landfall on this treacherous coast, I am pleased to be able to report to the folks back home that the climate is balmy, the natives are friendly and almost comprehensible, especially in response to folding money (I did try wampum but they weren't having any) and the national cuisine viz. fish-and-chips or takeaway curry, is both odorous and lingering, and not only on the palate.

Mr Dawson trusts that those he left behind him are not suffering too severely from the pangs of deprivation of his company, and will endeavour to return as advertised providing we have suitable winds and tides and that the local privateers have taken the day off.

1:28 pm  
Anonymous sigmund said...

I am scandalised! I am not sodden vis zee cocaine or any other substance. Hovever, in my great work Über Coca, I conclude zat cocaine is a very useful drug with many applications. Zou can read about my experiments here.

As for zee feet? Well zee feet are underdoubtedly a reference to the juxtaposed elements of our existence; left and right, ego and id, Mutter und Vater, masculine and feminine, dingle-dangles and front bottoms etc, etc.

4:18 pm  
Blogger The Goldfish said...

I am sadly incapable of analysing the workings of her Ladyship's unconscious, but I would tend to agree with the Boy Marmite's theory about her Ladyship's employment situation.

And on the subject of mind-altering substances brought up by Mr Freud, one of my most memorable dreams was about being a drug-addicted squirrel. I was really cute but all I could think about was my next fix. So I was often theiving hard cash off innocent people who were just trying to stroke me and feed me nuts.

Eventually I got into art theft and broke into the National Gallery in London. I was after the Wilton Diptych, but I was discovered and forced to flee to the roof, overlooking Trafalgar square. I was wondering whether or not to jump, since everybody would hate me so much after thinking I was so cute when really I was a drug-adled criminal squirrel. Then I woke up.

Honest to goodness, I really did have this dream. I think the youth expression is "W T F?" although what that stands for remains a mystery to a gel of my breeding.

I shall also take this opportunity to say "Hello!" to Mr Dawson who is staying at Osbourne House (one presumes, it is the only place worth staying on the Isle of Wight). I should also gently inform him that I am a Ms Goldfish, not a Miss.

4:39 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Lady Bracknell appreciates Mr Marmite's kind words. She is currently showing an utter want of fortitude, however, as Chef has just brought to her attention the fact that an arachnid of the approximate dimensions of a small dog is lurking in her kitchen. Chef rushed to fetch the spider-eviction device, but the monster cunningly slipped away during his momentary absence. The staff are on full alert.

7:48 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Although entertained by Sigmund's heavily accented theories, and not ungrateful for his contributions, Lady Bracknell has no hesitation in informing the gentleman in question that she most definitely does NOT wish to possess a penis, not even one which has been pickled in formaldehyde and sealed in a jar.

7:52 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Her ladyship might have drawn more comfort from Dude's reassurances had he not vacated the premises with some alacrity some ten minutes prior to her having been invited into the osteopath's consulting chamber.

7:54 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Lady Bracknell is cheered to learn that Mr Dawson is so far enjoying his well-deserved holiday.

She is not, however, convinced that the contents of her supper tray can have been responsible for a dream which troubled her at approximately 7 a.m.

Nevertheless, she can reassure Mr Dawson that, apart from a short discussion on what might be the most professionally appropriate method of slaughter for a qualified osteopath, she survived her appointment relatively unscathed.

7:59 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Lady Bracknell is relieved that the Goldfish has resumed her real persona, but finds herself at an uncharacteristic loss for words in response to the concept of a substance-abusing criminal rodent.

8:03 pm  
Blogger The Goldfish said...

I know not what her Ladyship means by my "real personna", but I am concerned, as I'm sure other correspondents will be, to learn whether her Ladyship enjoyed a restful night or whether she maintained her resolved to remain awake indefinitely?

11:49 am  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Lady Bracknell's resolve never again to fall into the arms of Morpheus lasted until almost the stroke of midnight, when the pages of the novel she had borrowed from the library began to blur before her eyes, and her ability to read further and discover "whodunnit" failed her.

Lady Bracknell is touched by the Goldfish's concern, and is pleased to report that, while her sleep is never dreamless, her dreams last night were not unduly disturbing.

7:24 pm  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

No doubt that Marmiteboy has Lady B down to a T.

However, may I also observe the fact that a dream, unlike life, doesn't punish if one should put one's foot in it...

5:58 pm  
Blogger Lady Bracknell said...

Lady Bracknell is intrigued by the advent of an anonymous contributor to the comments facility of her blog.

She has strong suspicions as to the individual's true identity, and would encourage him to comment further leaving some small clue so that she need not remain on tenterhooks.

8:09 pm  
Blogger Charlesdawson said...

Mr Dawson presents his compliements to Lady Bracknell and the assorted gentry hanging around this site.

Mr Dawson apologises to Ms Goldfish for inadvertently dissing her with the sexist style of "Miss"; Mr Dawson fully accepts that there is absolutely no reason why a lady, unlike a gentleman, should be forced to reveal marital status upfront.

I wonder, however, if Ms Goldfish or any other lady contributor could enlighten me as to one aspect of this Ms business that has always amused and intrigued me; I am emboldened to put this question in the firm belief that Ms Goldfish is not, herself, implicated in this behaviour: why is it, then, that many ladies now insist on the style "Ms" but are quite happy to sport, openly, wedding and/or engagement rings?

5:50 pm  

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