A pre-Halloween dream: I found myself with the eaten (gnawed, even) torso of a celebrity about whom I know nothing other than their name. It looked like a raw side of beef. I had a fuzzy recollection that it had become the rage to eat celebrities, which is why I had these leftovers, but I didn’t remember participating in the rage. I must have. I needed to dispose of the torso, though, but didn’t want anyone to think I’d killed this person (whoever it was). After all, it was a fashion everyone was participating in, not just me, and it needed to be clear that it was the fashion, not murder. Should I just get some plastic gloves and someone to help me throw it in the trash?
I didn’t want to touch it. And it made me sick to think I’d eaten it not just because it was so meaty, but why would I have chosen that particular fad to glom onto when I never glom onto any others?