Last night I dreamed that I was watching "No Reservations," a scene in which Anthony Bourdain goes spearfishing. It was visually very dramatic: a throng of men holding spears over their heads and periodically throwing them down into the water, backlit by a brilliant orange-red sunset. All of a sudden, a spear flew from off-screen and hit one of the fisherman in the chest. He went down. Bourdain had been doing some voiceover, which I wasn't paying attention to until he intoned, "Sometimes, when you go spearfishing, you accidentally kill a guy." It was him! He'd killed the guy!