I dreamt of an attempt to bring the greatest minds of our time together on a subject that would connect them all. The subject was entirely up to them. I am not sure what my rôle in this attempt was, but I was somehow informed about it. The minds in question were hard to define, for any known poets or authors or philosophers or scientists would not make it into the clutch. They were just great minds that eluded any precise definition. Although they were not meant to meet often, if ever, their seat was Venice. And the first item on the agenda was the subject that could bring them together. In my dream, the only subject they agreed on without too much fuss was “pussy.” Not “vulva” or “vagina,” let alone “cunt,” but only “pussy.” The vague notion and the image that came with it had magical powers, and that was agreed among the greatest minds. It was worth exploring in greater detail across the full spectrum of human experience from times immemorial to this day, they reckoned. What made “pussy” so powerful, though? Why would men go to amazing lengths in pursuit of it, and how would women respond to this timeless quest? And it was clear to all that some women were masters of it, too. The very notion is their greatest power, and they somehow know how to make men their slaves in pursuit of it. But this is where my dream petered out and I woke up. I wanted to know more about the greatest minds of our time and the subject that brought them together, but I could not fall asleep again. I had to get up and write down what I remembered. And I remembered precious little, as witnessed by the bare title of this vapid recollection.