I had a dream. About a Jackbooted Beauty

This morning I had a dream. About a jackbooted beauty.

In the dream I was on a train. An old fashioned passenger car, something like the old steamer engines pulled. Inside the car were many other passengers of higher station than me, Diplomats, Advisors, and Politicians.

Along both the sides of the car were couches and private curtained areas. Down the middle were picnic bench-like seats separated at lengths with enough space for people to walk through to either side as they wished. I was sitting at the end of one such section crammed against two aristocratic looking men. The tables were all full and seats were rare.

“I don’t know what the Democrats could be planning with the Middle East,” one said to the other.

“What could you mean? They do not have a plan. The region is tearing itself apart on its own. No one plans such things,” the other answered.

“Israel cannot stand alone there. Without her the party will lose support back home. Someone needs to step in and take control of the situation,” the first man spoke.

Sounding more like two men thinking out loud than in a conversation with each other.

Both men were dressed in the style of the 1910’s. Heavy woolen clothes marked with medals and sashes. The man closest to me was bald with a head spotted by brown freckles. The other man had slicked back brown hair and a well trimmed proud mustache.

They went on in their detached conversation and I had no other choice but to listen until finally I rose up from my seat and looked down at the bald man and said, “I could tell you what the hell is going on but I am just a lay-person what the hell can I have to say that matters at all to you people, right.”

The two men looked at each other and the bald one spoke to me, to my back anyway. In my passion of anger I had turned away from them once I had spoken my peace. So sure that such elite men would have no time for a regular person such as me, dressed in a plain cotton shirt, cheap ill-fitted pants held up with suspenders.

“Come sit down. Tell us what you think,” the bald man said to me. He even stood up and put a hand on my shoulder to encourage my turning back and sitting. His voice was calm. His slick haired acquaintance looked both amused and disgusted at the thought of having me speak and him listening.

I did sit down and reluctance to bother. Elitists did not listen to the people below them. No in the elite minds of the world they were the only ones to speak, the rest of us were to listen and obey.

“You want to know what the plan is,” I asked the bald man looking him in the eyes then giving his friend a glance that looked away as if bored already, “the plan is to let Israel die and the Middle East catch on fire for no other reason than pursuit of power.”

Already some people who had heard my first words people were moving away. Baldy was still looking back at me unwavering and seeming earnest in wanting to hear what I had to say.

“What better way to bring about the ruin of a great nation than to wear down its people until they welcome any change,” I asked but did not wait for an answer, “Why would it be in the world’s interest to tear down Egypt? To bring down Mubarak and remove an ally?”

“He had to go because he was a dictator,” the bald man interrupted.

“He was a moderate and an ally. Our militaries trained together and the country was stable. I have been there, have you? Then Libya. What was Libya doing that needed to have revolution backed by the Oval Office? Kaddafi was not doing anything, again the country was stable and after 9/11 Kaddafi swore off his nuclear program. What was the threat from him, another dictator he was, but at least a calm one.

“Meanwhile the student protests in Iran go ignored. In Syria the streets are running with the blood of her citizens at the hands of a hard-line dictator. Not a peep is made to stop the killing from the White House. The Party wants murderous dictators to rule that region. How else to enact revolutionary uprisings and all out warfare? Keep the hatreds of the area smoldering until reaching a flash-point.”

As I spoke more seats become available at the bench I was at. Curtains closed around couches here and there. For many, the ideas I was speaking are to be ignored. Yet my new found bald friend still seems to be listening.

“You said Israel cannot be left to stand alone,” nodding to the slick haired guy, “Sure, the Party can let that little country can be left to stand alone to be overrun by ‘Allah Akbar’ screaming enraged Muslims who have been taught from birth to exterminate the Jews for the love of Allah. That all the world’s problems are because of the Jews and that once they are all dead everything will be perfect. We have a similar version of that storyline between two demographics in the United States,” more curtains closed at those words, “The Democrat Party has no fear in Israel being wiped away from the world as American Jewish are so entrenched in the Party they would never vote any other way than for Democrats. Hell, many segments of those following the Party would celebrate the genocide of the Jewish people of Israel as they too believe Jews to be evil and to blame. Afterwards, if it should ever happen, both Jews and their jubilant in the destruction of Israeli counterparts will stand side-by-side at a polling station and vote for the Party”

By then the train car could have been empty. About half of the other passengers had hidden themselves away. Those people not concealed where either pretending not to be hearing or were looking in silence at me.

A woman came in with two children, boys about nine and ten years old. While the kids made their way about the car laughing and talking their mother came and sat next to the bald man, giving him a kiss. The slick haired friend had left his seat at some point in my speech without my even noticing so intent I was in having my say since finally having been asked.

“My wife,” he said in introductions between us. She was a gorgeous woman with short cropped black hair and olive skin. She wore some gold around her neck that draped in contrast to a well fitted black conservative yet casual dress that went past her knees. She gave off an impression of being happy and content while making herself at home at the bench, as if she had lived there all her life. She smiled at me and I went on.

“But you want to know what the plan is,” I asked resetting the conversation, “the plan has been going on for a long time. To destroy America’s religions through open and active hostilities as well as infiltrate the message of God in the churches to fit the narrative of the government. Uproot the traditions of the family, make government the mother and father. Remove fathers all together and hand out rewards for doing so. Absolve citizens of personal responsibility over their lives. Every bad-deed committed by a person can be traced back to some manufactured slight against them in the past. Destroy the private sector middle class and replace it with a contrived government one. Take over education not to teach but to indoctrinate students, even to the point of turning them against their parents. ”

I paused to look around. Those people who were left out in the open were staring right at me. Some faces had a non to happy look on them. No sense in stopping then, I was on a roll. As I got my breath and was about to start again the two boys that had come in with the Cleopatra-like beauty began going to the front of the train car. I stopped and watched the boys while everyone paid attention to me.

The oldest boy reached for the door set into the trains’ front and pulled the doors lever set in its middle. The door didn’t open, it was no longer there. There was no other train car in front of ours or an engine to be seen. There was nothing to see. A blank white standing rectangle was all to be seen. No light existed or shown. It was simply. Nothing.

Stepped off into the nothing the boys went without a peep either from them of anyone in the car. Not even their parents. Their mother looked at her husband and told him to go get the boys, a request he ignored so both sat in their seats. Looking back at me they expected me to go on so I did.

“Once the country is under attack from within it will be necessary to begin turning the people against each other. No matter how light the grievance it must be exploded and amplified. Tear down all unity and patriotism. Have everyone looking out for themselves and screw everyone else,” I looked over the people looking back at me. Certain that with them being the elite they would understand that point completely, “next the Party has but one institution to destroy, the Military.

“Through political correct principles service members will be taught that it is better for them to die than to kill their enemy. An enemy who is embraced by the Commander in Chief in front of the soldiers sent to fight. Words of encouragement from the Commander in the Oval Office are reserved for the militants and followers of death and martyrdom. Unity will be destroyed within the branches by forcing political ideals into military doctrine. Instead of serving the Constitution the military will be forced to serve the Party. Soldiers who have pride, patriotism, love of country and service will be forced to leave military service and others will be discouraged from joining.

“How does the Party keep good men and women from serving in the last bastion of American pride,” I asked looking around. Turning in my seat I faced the people behind me who had been breathing down my neck, “you deploy those soldiers over and over until they don’t re-enlist. You give them more wars that have no definition of goals and when defending themselves soldiers are slandered and punished by both their leaders who sent them and the Party’s media lap dogs. Cut benefits and retirement pay. Make it easier to collect government welfare than to apply for aid from Veterans Affairs for wounds both physical and mental incurred during combat operations,” making my right hand into a fist I pushed it hard, twisting back and forth into the palm of my left, “you grind and grind away at the military until no one wants to join. And when very few do with the right traditional values of the once proud organization the Party fills the ranks with who it wants to have armed to the teeth with state of the art killing equipment.”

By that point even the bald man had left for some other place to sit. His wife however had stayed and was staring at me hard with bright eyes and a predator’s visage. She moved toward me. I had to lean back in against the bench top at her advancement. Partially straddling me she looked down into my eyes. Her black hair hung toward my face but it was those eyes I wondered about as well as those longer and sharper canines grinning down at me.

“Tell your story, it doesn’t matter even the slightest,” she began saying as she, like a creature of great agility slid back to her place on the bench seat, “We have been at work for a much longer time than you will ever know and as you can see by looking around; no one is paying you any attention other than me,” of which she spoke true. Not another person was listening or caring and had gone from hiding away from my speech to going on about whatever distraction they pursued.

“After all that what is to happen next,” she asked taunting me.

“When everything has been put into place, the pillars of American society pulled down. The bonds that bind America together have been cut and neighbor has been set against neighbor,” looking around the car away from her bright eyes that seemed hold unspeakable evil lit behind them no one was watching the engagement between her and me, “then the jackboots of the Party come marching in to crush the throat of freedom. Everything else, even if it means creating World War Three coming across the globe spread from the Middle East, every event will be but a means to an end. Freedoms end. Global Dictatorship ruling human beings beginning.”

With those final words of mine from behind I was grabbed at the shoulders and pushed to the floor. A black leather boot that ran tight against the woman’s calf was pushed down over my neck while strong arms held me from getting up. My blood and air were cut off and my vision was shrinking as if I was falling down a well. Before I woke up from that dream the last words from the woman in black were, “you’re too late and of no importance.”

Then I woke up.

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Tom is an erratic contributor to CDN. Former U.S. Army Signal Corps soldier, outspoken future Re-Education Camp intern #7-2521, world traveler, combat veteran and Author of the new books Lone Wolf,  Sucker Punched, dystopian near future America novels, and One Tough Truck (a War Story) available at Amazon.com.

“A creative mind does nothing to another mind — except offer it material to digest, which the other mind may digest or not, as it pleases.” –Ayn Rand