Raynine
Diamond Member
- Oct 28, 2023
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The presidential election is over and as the dust settles I need to think about what is to come. The brain and the mind are mysterious, and sometimes we process things in strange ways. What follows is my way of making sense of things:
I had this really weird dream the other night and I want to share it with you. I’m not big into dream interpretation and Freud and Jung are both dead, so I have to go with what I’ve got here. In my dream it was 1955 and I was seven or eight years old. I had a few nickels in my pocket, so I rode my bike to a local convenience store and purchased a box of Cracker Jack.
I sat on the store steps and opened it as I salivated for the sweet caramel popcorn I was about to consume. My hands were probably dirty as I broke the seal on the box knowing that a hidden prize was waiting for me deep in the contents of the inexpensive treasure.
Now, I had done this before, so I did not go right for the money shot preferring to bask in a sugar high contemplating what awaited me in the bottom of that box. But a prize is a prize, and I eventually succumbed to the anticipation. I carefully shook the box upside down into the palm of my hand and watched the booty tumble out.
Oddly, it wasn’t a plastic toy as I expected; it was a tightly wrapped piece of paper-a mini document. I was somewhat disappointed, but I fastidiously unwrapped the record and examined it. It was Barack Obama’s birth certificate and his educational credentials! In my dream I thought to myself: “who the hell is Barack Obama and what does he have to do with anything?” I knew who Superman and Davy Crockett were, but Barack Obama? This was weird indeed.
It was not until I awoke with a dry mouth that the significance of the dream became clear. The people in the city I grew up in had taken what was in that Cracker Box and bought it hook, line, and sinker because they wanted to be good liberals. They watched as a complete phony with nothing but the right hue on his skin was elected to presidency! There was no evidence of anything done by this fraud to suggest he was anything other than swindling con man, but the people of my city voted to put him in the White House!
Even in my dream I could see that Barack Obama was no more a constitutional scholar than that fat bully I punched on the school playground in 1955! But the people wanted to be seen as forward thinking and sophisticated. It was like the Wizard of OZ in real life! Those people are like the impressionable souls that watched Mary Martin fly over the crowd as Peter Pan and never saw the wires! They wanted to believe, and they became true believers.
Those same people just built a new, gargantuan state liquor store to help the citizens think better. I don’t know if this will help but at least now we have a “real” president in the White House.
Sweet dreams, people.
I had this really weird dream the other night and I want to share it with you. I’m not big into dream interpretation and Freud and Jung are both dead, so I have to go with what I’ve got here. In my dream it was 1955 and I was seven or eight years old. I had a few nickels in my pocket, so I rode my bike to a local convenience store and purchased a box of Cracker Jack.
I sat on the store steps and opened it as I salivated for the sweet caramel popcorn I was about to consume. My hands were probably dirty as I broke the seal on the box knowing that a hidden prize was waiting for me deep in the contents of the inexpensive treasure.
Now, I had done this before, so I did not go right for the money shot preferring to bask in a sugar high contemplating what awaited me in the bottom of that box. But a prize is a prize, and I eventually succumbed to the anticipation. I carefully shook the box upside down into the palm of my hand and watched the booty tumble out.
Oddly, it wasn’t a plastic toy as I expected; it was a tightly wrapped piece of paper-a mini document. I was somewhat disappointed, but I fastidiously unwrapped the record and examined it. It was Barack Obama’s birth certificate and his educational credentials! In my dream I thought to myself: “who the hell is Barack Obama and what does he have to do with anything?” I knew who Superman and Davy Crockett were, but Barack Obama? This was weird indeed.
It was not until I awoke with a dry mouth that the significance of the dream became clear. The people in the city I grew up in had taken what was in that Cracker Box and bought it hook, line, and sinker because they wanted to be good liberals. They watched as a complete phony with nothing but the right hue on his skin was elected to presidency! There was no evidence of anything done by this fraud to suggest he was anything other than swindling con man, but the people of my city voted to put him in the White House!
Even in my dream I could see that Barack Obama was no more a constitutional scholar than that fat bully I punched on the school playground in 1955! But the people wanted to be seen as forward thinking and sophisticated. It was like the Wizard of OZ in real life! Those people are like the impressionable souls that watched Mary Martin fly over the crowd as Peter Pan and never saw the wires! They wanted to believe, and they became true believers.
Those same people just built a new, gargantuan state liquor store to help the citizens think better. I don’t know if this will help but at least now we have a “real” president in the White House.
Sweet dreams, people.
