In my dream last night a woman was recorded on tape saying the phrase "Derrida Schiff," but indistinctly, not loudly enough. I was involved in tracking down this error, somehow. I was angry either at her or at a male individual who was citing her. At stake was the transmission or citation of this message, or its original conceptual erroneousness.
Later, we were involved in a shared car service and were supposed to pick up someone, possibly my friend Bob Basil, on a street corner to go to a bar. I was driving my own car, but in exact parallel to another car driven by a woman, maybe not the same one earlier misrepresenting Derrida.
The emotional tonality here is indignation and frustration, the correction of error. Schiff, as far as I know, is a German surname with no other meaning for me. As I woke up I made sure to make a mental note of the spelling, as though that were important.
I must resist the temptation to make my account of the dream more coherent than the dream itself.
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