Dream of:17 May 1989 "One Decent Man"
I had been given the task of taking care of a man who looked like Elvis Presley, but whom I knew as "Bob." I had grown to care quite a lot for Bob, although he had some kind of problem or defect which caused him to need someone to be with him and take care of him.
The two of us went into a building which might be a large, luxurious hotel, and we walked down into a spacious, carpeted basement. Just as we were walking into the basement, a man (whom I recognized) was leaving. The man was probably in his early 30s, with blond hair, somewhat overweight, and wearing what appeared to be a large, baggy , brown coat. It took me a minute to remember who he was and suddenly it came to me that he was MacDonald (a former high school classmate). When I finally remembered his name and I hollered it out, he had already boarded an elevator. He seemed in a hurry to leave, almost as if he were fleeing something, and he didn't stop even when he heard me call his name.
Bob and I walked on to a room where a number of men in business suits were gathered, and some seemed to be observing a demonstration of some electronic sound or stereo equipment. It appeared a cassette had been placed into the equipment and I could hear a message coming from the cassette. I was surprised to hear the message was by a man talking about dreams. He seemed to be talking about some new method of using dreams. Just as I became interested, some fellow walked up and switched the channel to some music. I protested that I wanted to hear more and I switched it back. Before the fellow could turn it off, the message came across, "Crime Pays."
In a flash I now understood what Bob's problem was. Someone had programmed this message into him, perhaps while he had been dreaming. Bob now thought the message was true and he was suffering as a result of it. I quickly looked around for him but I didn't see him anywhere. I realized I must find him immediately and get him out of there.
I felt as if I had just awakened. I didn't know what had happened, but I had the feeling that just as I had been looking around for Bob, someone had knocked me out and then had transported me somewhere else. I didn't know where I was, but I quickly found my way back to the basement and the room where I had originally been. When I walked in, I saw perhaps 100 men, all in dark or gray suits, lounging around on the floor. I now knew these men were all part of the conspiracy to program Bob. I screamed at the top of my lungs, "Bob! Bob!" But no one answered. Instead all the men stood up and put on their coats and looked at me threatening.
I was desperate to find Bob. Besides the fact that I had been charged with the definite duty of taking care of him, I had grown to care for him in a very deep way. I must find him. But obviously all these men were in on the plot. Nevertheless as they stood and gathered around me, I still thought I might be able to win against the odds. I hollered out, "Surely there's one decent man among you."
Someone stepped up and derided me for thinking someone here would help. Still I thought someone would help and I said, "I don't know who he was but he will find a way."
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