I'm in my parent's RV. I'm on vacation someplace, again, and I see we're at a college, but this college is unique -- it's set up like a theme park. Each department has its own 'land' to decorate. Thus, here is Physicsland, here is Archaeologyland, etc. I stumble into the department for the study of subcultures -- everything is grungy and citylike. There's graffiti pieces everywhere, covering everything. Hookers are standing around. A street sign that says "TWO" is on the corner -- this was supposed to mean like Second Street, Downtown, etc. Somehow, I stumble into the Porn department. It seems that some religious vandal has been through, ripping the place apart, throwing videotapes and movie reels, film, photos, everywhere. Some bureaucratic vandals have been through, too -- the Porn department is being cut, immediately. The head of the department, a clean-cut, sixtyish, solid woman in a business suit, explains what's happening. As I stand there listening, two or three young women come in, wearing very casual, California surfer-type clothes. When they hear the news they become very, very upset -- one is even crying. they put a lot into their department, after all. Quite apart from the lascivious thought that I would *love* to see the films these ladies made, I feel very sorry for them. They're obviously seeing a lot of their work going down the tubes right now. I talk to one or two of them and make friends; I team up with a graffiti writer, too. We go back to my parents RV but they won't have anything to do with me; I've befriended scum and sluts. Well then, I think, fuck you too. We 'escape', taking the train tracks. Halfway along a strange plant is laying in the tracks, half green, half red. I immediately recognize it for a ludicrously huge celery plant. The red is the roots. I examine it carefully with a special examining hat the graffiti writer gives me. A huge freight train comes by and obliterates the celery. By way of contrast, I suppose, a BART train comes by and is nearly knocked off the tracks by a clod of dirt. Now somehow in here we end up carrying all these huge vegetables. Well, we're going to make our final escape through this person's house, but *somebody* slams a door, and by the time we get outside, it's TOO LATE!!! Guards are everywhere, and we're trapped. Just then a huge Native American man comes by and strikes a deal. They'll let us go if we divide up our huge veggies. We lay them on a table. We have nine. We would have had ten, but the celery was destroyed.