Haven’t checked in here since before the 2016 presidential election. Made several attempts, each felt futile for one reason or another. Tried coming at our new administration from every direction
but just couldn’t recon with reality. Besides, writing about politics has become too popular and too convoluted; feels fruitless to contribute. BS is now de rigueur. Not a good look. It’s all too ugly and caustic.
Speaking of unpleasant topics, my last post was about a list, it was called the, By What Do We Judge a Man’s Character?, list. It’s relevant to getting me back here. But I’ll get to that, have a story
to relay first. A little exposition…
I’m not a dreamer. Most people who know me would say that’s an outlandishly false statement. It doesn’t get more pie-in-the-sky,
fantasist than moi. Own some larger than life dreams, but that’s not what the paragraph opener refers to, I rarely reside in REMS. When I do get that deep, which is infrequent, (both sleep and dreams,) seldom remember what I dreamt. Might have a vague
idea when I wake, but usually it’s gone in a matter of minutes; never to be revived. (That comes in real handy when nightmares are on the playlist.)
The rare ones have longevity
though. There’ve been only three dreams in my life I’ve remembered in their entirety. And they’ve all been pleasant, until now. Adding a new one to the list. Won’t categorize it as a nightmare, it had a different feel, more of a foreboding.
It happened about a month and a half ago, was compelled to write it down here but ended up sitting on it, (as happens so often with this People & Politics column.) But now is the right time; it’s clear, the dream was a warning.
It started with me and several members of my family walking the streets of the Capitol. Felt like a sightseeing trip but our reason for being there wasn’t defined before the madness started. A
giant alien ship came into view as it was arcing straight for the ground, a beautifully constructed, eight-sided, disc-shaped craft with windows bordering each wall. The transport was too close and seemingly out of control, it was headed for a crash, an explosion
was inescapable. It arced slowly enough that someone near us yelled, “Call 911,” before it hit the ground. The thought crossed my mind that 911 wouldn’t have mattered, the impact would be the end of us all. But it bounced once and skidded
to an immediate stop.
Directly following that rather peculiar landing, a bomb dropped straight down, parallel to the ground. It descended with more speed than the ship. Again my initial thought
was it would be our instantaneous demise. It was a classic looking, long body, gray metal tube with a big round nose. The thing was huge, the size of several large buildings. Instead of exploding, it landed with only a mild thud. Soon after impact several
cracks along the fuselage opened and it sort of drooped down like a dud. There was a collective feeling of having avoided a catastrophe. You could sense the relief. Then the realization of the real danger hit, it was releasing an undetectable gas.
An evil element was seeping into the air, stripping us of our skin - literally.
Everyone was trying to escape in doors. We ran
into a building and pounded on a closed door. Someone opened the door and we had to talk our way in, they were reluctant. It was a “safe zone” and they didn’t want it overcrowded. As we entered, two frantic people came up behind us, I held
the door and invited them in. Inside the room was a pool, several people were wading around in it. The pool was medicinal, but was off limits. Only special people were allowed in the water.
effect of the gas was devastating, peeling deep strips of skin off at the slightest touch, down to exposed muscle tissue. Luckily, the dream didn’t dwell on the horror of it, people were being infected everywhere but I only had to see it up close once.
In the room we learned sugar, eating something sweet reversed the effects of the gas. People were healing around us, I saw skin that had regrown, red and raw but the strips were filling in, that’s when I woke up.
Having an apocalyptic dream is a tad bit unsettling, especially when it’s delivered in Technicolor. You can imagine the questions you might have awakening with that scenario, seared in your memory, in minute detail. Not an
everyday occurrence, especially for a person who rarely dreams. A taxing call to contemplation. And contemplate I did.
There’s a lesson to be learned from this aberration. The heavy-handed
allegory is an unmistakable foreboding of our future if we don’t wise up. Interestingly enough, this dream happened the week before the poisoning of former Russian spy, Sergei Skripal, and his daughter, Yulia. When the attack happened, the correlation
did not escape me. And now we find ourselves in a dangerous chess match with Bashar al-Assad over the use of nerve gas on his own people. An attack that left them foaming at the mouth, suffocating. A hideous way to die, (beyond our differing and contentious
rhetoric, think we can all agree on that.)
Unfortunately, in world affairs, the U.S. has lost credibility, the necessity of strong character in our leaders is no longer a requirement. The
need to wag the dog is bigger than the call to do what's right. That circles me back to that last column. It was a list created for a student in my Speech & Communications class, a rather vocal and intelligent young man who was an ardent supporter of Donald
Trump. He asked me in class one day why I thought Mr. Trump was unfit for office, (an opinion I had shared,) the list was created as an answer to his inquiry. Ran into him at the mall recently, hadn’t seen him since the class, (the election happened
during that semester,) after seeing the president in action, his opinion of him had changed a bit. Said he hated to admit it but he was wrong. His parting words were, “Fuck Donald Trump.” Now, to be clear, I don’t share that harsh condemnation,
that would never be my censure. But I still believe and have never changed my view that he has no business being president. Predicted in P&P before the election he would rue the day he ran for office, that outcome seems inevitable.
Continuing on the circle, let’s head back to the dream. Aliens were allowed to invade our country, the correlation is painfully clear. The mindboggling connections to Russia and the depth of corruption
linked to our president and several members of the GOP will be our undoing if we don’t start employing reason. Agendas and power be damned, public servants need to serve the good of our country. The bitterness and division the invasion has fostered is
peeling away at the very fabric of our society, civility has been replaced by name-calling and bullying, distrust and bigotry; the subjugation has worked like a charm. All this abetted by our own. We now mistakenly operate on the assumption that unacceptable
behavior is an amendment to the Constitution. How easily lead we have been and how very, very foolish.
Just as the tragedy of the dream was clear, the solution was crystal. Heaping helpings
of kindness and consideration will bring us back. If you think that’s an innocent view, you’re right. We need to get back to the fundamentals of humanity, we are each other’s keepers. Love and service are the meaning of life. Not greed and
selfishness. We need to shine a light on the corruption that’s invaded our landscape and shut it down. Honesty and integrity have to be the breastplate of our war against the deception of power hungry and wealth driven men.
No longer can we allow ourselves to be weak and vulnerable, a country consumed by anger, lying and retaliation. Don’t know about you, but I take my lessons from the Big Man upstairs, the dream was a warning. You can take it
as such or not, it’s no skin off my back…or is it?
April 17, 2018