George W. Bush (the 43rd president of the United States from 2001 to 2009) has been mentioned in thirteen of my recorded dreams. His misplaced pugnacity has left its mark on my mind.

Dream of: 03 June 1999 "Prosecuting The Case"

A man in prison (for stealing money from a bank) had managed to rob the same bank again, even while he had been in prison. Once again he had been caught, and once again tried. This time he had been threatened with an even stiffer sentence than he had been given the first time. The penalty range on the first sentence had been 2-8 years, whereas the range on the second offense was in the neighborhood of 7-15 years.

The man hired Wheat (my attorney-friend in Dallas) to defend him on the second charge. When Wheat took on the case, he explained to the fellow that it was against the law for the fellow to receive a second sentence, so the fellow began to think he might escape further punishment.

When I heard about the matter, I became upset, because I felt Wheat was mishandling case, and in Wheat's typical fashion, was giving the poor fellow false hope. I learned that the fellow had in fact stolen over two million dollars. I further learned that Texas Governor George W. Bush was prosecuting the case and that Bush was intent on obtaining a sentence for the second offense. I therefore clearly foresaw that Wheat would finally lose the case. When the case would be lost, I knew Wheat would simply throw up his hands and say he had done everything he could. I was disgusted with Wheat's deceitful methods. Clearly Wheat knew from the beginning that he couldn't win the case, and he was simply leading the fellow on. I despised the way he misled people like that.

Over time, I developed personal feelings toward George W. Bush. Those feelings seem based on my inclination to compare and contrast myself with him.

Dream of: 13 May 2001 "Governor of Texas"

I was going to be named governor of Texas, to succeed George W. Bush, who was leaving the office of governor. A small group of powerful men in one of the political parties had chosen me to be the next governor. The swearing-in ceremony was going to take place at 4 p.m., and it was already almost 3 p.m. I was still getting dressed, putting on a suit, preparing to go to the ceremony.

I was excited about being governor. Wielding so much power was difficult to comprehend, and I didn't yet know how I would manage the office. I was also curious why I had been chosen; I wasn't well-known in political circles. I concluded that the men in power thought I would make a good puppet, that they would be able to control me. But I was determined that if I became governor, I would be my own man.

I finished getting ready and hurried off to the place where I would be sworn in. Finally I stood in front of a podium with a large crowd stretched out in front of me. Several older men in suits were standing around me. These were the men with the power who had decided I would become governor.

Almost immediately I began to sense something had gone wrong. One of the men began asking me questions about myself. He wanted to know if I were practicing law and whether I would have time to serve as governor. I told him that I was hardly practicing law at all and that I would have plenty of time to work as governor. But obviously something was amiss, or the man wouldn't be questioning me like that. As he continued with more questions, I noticed the crowd thinning out. Soon everyone had left except for me and the man questioning me. It was clear at that point that I wouldn't become governor another man had been chosen in my place. I wasn't even told why I had been replaced. I seemed to remember that once in my distant past I had been arrested for a drug offense; but I had never been convicted. Had that old offense caused my rejection?

I finally walked away from the podium feeling extremely dejected, like a complete failure. I had been so close to becoming governor; now I was simply a reject. I could think of nothing positive about the situation. Finally, however, I thought at least I had been close to becoming governor; not many people could say that. Even though I hadn't succeeded, I had experienced something amazing, something I would never forget. Maybe the situation wasn't quite as grim as it seemed.

The most important decision which Bush made during his presidency was the decision to invade Iraq. This one decision proved Bush's incompetence.

Dream of: 31 January 2003 "Incompetence"

The United States was preparing to go war with Iraq. I was watching a scene taking place in Iraq, watching the Iraqis stockpile weapons for the impending war. Piles of small and large caliber guns were being stacked in an empty field. Obviously the Iraqis knew the forces of the United States would be overwhelming. Nevertheless, the Iraqis intended to resist. They planned to form small resistance groups which would go underground once the Americans invaded. The Iraqis would ambush the Americans whenever they could; they were determined not to surrender, to fight to the death.

I pondered the news. Why was George W. Bush so determined to attack Iraq? Was he really that incompetent? Could he not see the futility of this looming war? Nobody would win. Many people would die for nothing.

Tears came to my eyes. People were nearby; I didn't want anyone to see me crying over something like a war with Iraq. But why not? What did it matter to me if someone saw me express my emotions? This war made me sad. I felt as if I could cry all day. And if someone saw me so be it. No dishonor in tears.

Bush was not a man to be trusted. Although he might have appeared friendly on the surface, he had blood on his hands.

Dream of: 15 June 2004 "Reading The Mind"

I was visiting some kind of military/spiritual training camp, with an emphasis on martial arts. As I was walking around, I ran into George W. Bush. He walked up to me and grabbed my hand with one of his hands and put his other hand flat over top my head. I stood still. Friendly, he seemed to be conducting an experiment. He wanted to see if I could answer a question. He asked me if farmers who raised opium plants were able to eat the soil in which the opium plants were grown.

The question didn't seem so peculiar to me. I had recently seen an opium plant growing in a pot of soil, and I had been told that blood and another ingredient had been mixed in with the soil. However, I hadn't considered the question of whether the soil could be eaten and I didn't know the answer. I concentrated, trying to come up with an answer. All the while, Bush held my hand tightly and kept his other hand over my head. Slowly I became apprehensive of what Bush was doing. Was he trying to trap me somehow? Was he able to read my mind without my even saying anything?

I pulled myself free of him and walked away. Just as I did so, I thought I had the answer: the soil could be eaten as long as it was above 32 degrees; under 32 degrees the soil couldn't be eaten.

I began walking around the training complex, located in the country in a semi-arid region. Various training courses and obstacles were scattered around. With two ropes tied around me, I climbed atop a cliff and dropped off the side. Although it was dangerous, I thought I would like to learn to rappel. Could I use one of these ropes to rappel? Another man was also hanging from ropes; he seemed to be having difficultly and I saw the danger.

After I landed on the ground and took off the ropes, several black-robed men gathered around me in a menacing manner. Obviously they intended to attack me. After I picked up a burnt piece of wood to protect myself, a short struggle ensued in which I adroitly fended off my attackers. Other people were standing around and I couldn't understand why no one would help me. Fortunately I already had enough power to defend myself without help.

Bush's decision to invade Iraq turned the United States into an evil aggressor. Although it was true that Iraq was oppressed by evil, the United States was not responsible for uprooting that evil through military action, even though I myself might have at times been deluded into cheering on the battle.

Dream of: 08 January 2005 "Uprooting Evil"

I had arrived in Iraq. I hadn't intended to go there, but my plane had been diverted. Dressed in a suit, I was standing on a busy downtown street where one-story brown buildings lined narrow dimly-lit streets. Iraqis thronged about while American soldiers stood here and there. Much tension was in the air due to the American occupation.

A convoy led by a high-ranking American general was going to be passing there on a good-will tour through the city. Some American soldiers dressed in green fatigues were standing near me, waiting for the convoy. I exchanged a few words with a black soldier (about 20 years old) and I immediately felt a strong empathy with him, an empathy I hadn't expected. He asked me something about my wife and I told him I was married and I would be going home soon. I liked him. 

The soldiers had to move on. He held out his black hand, I held out mine and we shook. It was a very tender feeling -- holding his hand. Then the soldiers walked away.

The convoy came through. The general was in front dressed in brown (all the other soldiers were dressed in green). The general stopped and spoke to a small child, then moved on. His gesture seemed so typical to me since I thought he was only in Iraq for the show. 

I wished I could speak with some of the Iraqis. I recalled that I used to be able to speak some Persian. Arabic, not Persian, however, was spoken here. I wished I knew some Arabic.

I walked into a small restaurant and sat down. A few Iraqis were sitting around and I began talking with one who spoke English. He supported the Americans being there. 

I walked back outside. Shadows were everywhere. I was thinking I might have made a big mistake about my opposition to America's being in Iraq. It felt as if the Americans were combating evil there. The evil in Iraq was so deeply rooted, that this kind of American presence and force was necessary to control it. The struggle would be long and hard, but I was beginning to change my mind. Perhaps  George W. Bush was right ... perhaps the United States needed to be in Iraq, fighting and uprooting this deep evil. The revelation startled me. 

Even I, shamefully, eager to see freedom of speech spread to such freedom-oppressed countries as Iraq, at times cheered on Bush's blundering invasion.

Dream of: 30 March 2005 "Speech Writer"

I was in a room with president George W. Bush and about 10 other people. Everyone was talking about a recent incident in Iraq. I wasn't exactly sure what had happened, but apparently some American soldiers had committed some atrocities against some Iraqis. Now Bush was compelled to address the country about the incident, and everyone in the room was trying to figure out what Bush should say. Expressing grave concern, everyone was studying Bush's options. 

As several ideas were considered, I also had an idea, and I began laying out my thoughts to the others. I pointed out that similar incidents had occurred in the past, and that each time the United States had apologized for those incidents. In response to those previous incidents, Bush had also said that mistakes would be made in the future, and that we would respond to those mistakes as they happened. 

I thought we should do the same this time: we should display deep regret in an apology and mention that future mistakes might also occur. However, the United States should maintain that this incident had nothing to do with our determination to "persevere" in this struggle in Iraq. I mentioned that our resolve should not be "attenuated" by this incident. I stumbled over the word "attenuated" as I pronounced it, but everyone in the room loved the word. This was the deciding word in everyone's minds and they all began applauding. It seemed, however, that they were applauding the president (and not me) because this was the kind of words he would be using. 

Bush stepped up to me and asked me if I wanted to write the speech for him. I was flattered. I felt as if Bush were an honorable man and I enjoyed being there with him to help him resolve this matter. I accepted, but I was a bit startled when he told me he wanted me to write the speech right there on the spot. 

Bush stepped over to the side with some others, while I started trying to think of exactly what to say. I wanted to stress two basic points: the apology and the determination to see this struggle through to the end. 

I also had another concept on my mind which I wanted to interject into the speech: the scrutiny of the press. I wanted to assert that one of the goals for which the United States was fighting was the freedom of the press. In doing so, I wanted to touch upon the irony that the scrutiny of the press (for which we were fighting) had precipitated the need to address this incident. I wanted to show how this whole incident illustrated the freedom of the press for which the United States was fighting.

The separation of church and state in the United States is not a myth, but an imperfect reality. The War in Iraq conducted by Bush, however, was simply a continuation of the 1400-year old war between the adherents of Christianity and the adherents of Islam.

Dream of: 21 June 2005 "Giving A Talk"

I was standing and talking with several people who at times seemed like old classmates from high school and at times like old classmates from law school. We were all dressed up in formal wear -- I was wearing a suit. I was surprised when an attractive black-haired woman whom I knew stepped up and abruptly told me that president George W. Bush would be giving a talk in a church on Wednesday and that I had been chosen to carry the stick to light the candles. She went on to say that I had been picked because the affair was in a Spanish-speaking church and I could speak Spanish. She wanted to know if I accepted.

Thoughts and emotions swirled in me. I was extremely flattered, yet I couldn't understand why I would be chosen. I was neither religious nor a follower of Bush. What was the motive behind this? Was it possible that these people had been reading my dreams on my website and that they had detected some potential in me? Did they think they could sway me to their religion? Whatever the reason, I didn't care. I accepted.

I walked away from the group, still thinking. My mother would be visiting me on Wednesday. She would be able to come to the church and see me lighting the candles. I would be proud.

As I walked on, I heard singing, and I realized I was already in the church. Today's service had begun. I walked straight up to the front and headed for my seat in the front row. I recognized the song and I began singing along even before I reached my seat. I stood next to a fellow on my right who was also singing. I knew so many of these old church songs by heart, the words easily came back to me. I could hear the voice of the fellow next to me amid all the others. I boomed out, "Oh say does that star-spangled banner yet wave, over the land of the free and the home of the brave."

When a man of such weak intelligence as George W. Bush can become the most powerful man in the world, it gives me hope that a man, such as myself, of at least modest intelligence, might somehow prevail in the world.

Dream of: 23 October 2005 "Most Powerful Man"

I was in my small bedroom, reading a book, when George H. W. Bush (the father of George W. Bush) walked in. Perhaps 60 years old, he was slender and immaculately dressed in a suit. I ignored him at first as he looked around the room, but finally we spoke. He seemed to want to portray himself as just an ordinary man, but I pointed out that for eight years while he had been president, he had been the most powerful man in the world.

I was amazed when he said he had never thought of it that way, and I immediately began giving the reasons for my statement. I pointed out that many men had had more money than he, but that as president he had controlled more money than anyone. I said what had made him most powerful, however, were nuclear weapons. He had controlled the most powerful nuclear weapons in the world.

He still didn't submit to my reasoning, so I continued. I explained that other people might have also been involved in deciding when to use nuclear weapons, but he had been the person of highest rank in the decision-making process. I told him if all the people in the world were lined up in a line from the least powerful to the most powerful, he would have been at the head of the line.

I was enjoying the conversation and I was surprised Bush was staying so long. I wondered if I should bring up his son, George W. Bush, and mention that his son was now the most powerful man in the world. I also thought about Bill Clinton, and I even pulled out a little book which contained cartoons about Clinton. I wondered if Bush would be interested in looking at it, but I concluded he wouldn't, and I laid the book back down.

During our conversation, I was also a bit embarrassed because I was wearing a bra and some frilly little shirt which was hanging open so the bra was visible. I wasn't even sure myself why I was wearing the bra (which was small, like a training bra), but Bush seemed to pay it no mind, and he continued on with the conversation.

He said I should take into consideration the cardinals in Rome. I immediately thought he must be talking about the Pope, or perhaps even Jesus Christ, and my mind began running in those lines. I wanted him to understand that I wasn't talking about spiritual power, but worldly power. Besides, I thought Jesus Christ shouldn't even be involved in the conversation because he was dead.

Bush continued expatiating and he mentioned the "Cretan bull." I was taken aback. I hadn't expected Bush to be so erudite and I was particularly embarrassed because although I had heard of the Cretan bull, (and I prided myself on my knowledge of Greek mythology), I couldn't remember the story of the Cretan bull. I wasn't even sure of whether Bush was using the story as an "analogy" or as a "metaphor," as I had never developed a clear understanding of the difference between analogy and metaphor. Finally, however, I concluded the Cretan bull was an analogy and I told Bush he had used a fine analogy. But I admitted I was unfamiliar with the myth of the Cretan bull.

Bush immediately began explaining the myth. He said it went back to the first 16 centuries of the history of Troy. I pulled out another book written in Latin and opened it to a page which talked about the Cretan bull. I saw the words "Cretan novus" written together and I suddenly realized the Latin word "novus" meant "book." I had always thought "novus" meant "new."

As Bush continued talking, several other men dressed in suits had walked into the room. They were obviously with Bush and they seemed surprised to hear him back there talking with me.

When I looked at myself in a mirror, I only looked about 16-17 years old and my lips were red as if I were wearing lipstick. I was quite pretty, but I could see why the men were surprised. My father had also walked into the room, and he likewise seemed surprised. Nevertheless, Bush and I continued our conversation unabated. Both of us were enjoying the intellectual stimulation of our argument. Bush was definitely much more intelligent than I would have thought.

My particular theory is that God communicates to man in dreams. Therefore, men who follow the dictates of their dreams would be the men best able to lead.

Dream of: 19 December 2005 "Close To God"

Several people and I were in a limo-like car with president George W. Bush and his wife Laura, sitting in the back, facing each other. Bush was very amiable and easy to talk with. He asked me if I would like to fly to Washington D.C. with him in a jet. I was incredulous. Of course I wanted to. I asked if he were kidding and he said he was. He had just been playing a joke.

I mentioned to Bush that I had heard he thought he was close to God. I hadn't intended to offend him, but he seemed offended. I thought of mentioning Abraham Lincoln and how Lincoln had thought he had been inspired by God, so Bush wouldn't think I was saying he (Bush) was the only president who had thought he had been inspired by God. But what I really wanted to find out was how Bush knew he was really hearing God. I also wanted to tell him I also thought I was close to God, and I wanted to point out how other people -- such as Islamic extremists -- thought they heard God. Who was right? Who really heard God?

We finally stopped, stepped out of the car, and walked into a crowded post office. Bush circulated among the big crowd of people and greeted them. I thought to myself that Bush, being president, was also the head of the post office. I thought he could go behind the counter and pick up mail and look at it if he wanted. I even heard someone call him "boss."

In the throng, I lost sight of Bush, but I saw a pile of letters addressed to him and I picked them up so I could give the letters to him. When I started trying to find Bush again, a man who was obviously in the Secret Service walked up to me and stopped me. When I told him I had been with Bush all day, the man said that couldn't be true because they would have known. Then I corrected myself and said I had been with Bush for two hours. Then I corrected myself again and said I had been with Bush for one hour.

I showed the mail to the man and he wanted to take it. I told him I wanted to deliver it myself; but I couldn't think of a good reason for my delivering the mail to Bush. So I finally gave the mail to the man. He said I would still be present when he handed the mail to Bush.

I saw that my time with the president was almost over. I saw Bush's problem: he needed more contact with the people. Apparently Bush often went out to meet people and tried to get a feel of what the people were thinking. I thought I would only have one more minute with him when I said goodbye and I contemplated what I would say. I wanted to give him some kind of message which would help him. I thought I would tell him he was a good man, but people hated him. But then I thought that wasn't a good thing to say. I needed a more helpful message. I tried to think of what I might offer him. Then I thought about my past and my time in prison in Iran (I spent almost eight months in a prison in Tabriz, Iran in 1978-1979 for auto smuggling). I knew more about Iran than Bush did and finally I knew what I would tell him. I would say, "Iran is worse than Iraq."

The Iraq War is Bush's legacy to the world. History will show that it, like the lives of so many, was simply a waste.

Dream of: 18 April 2006 "War In Iraq"

After I had rented a small apartment, I had met a man who lived in the same building, and he invited me to supper. We went to a tavern in the neighborhood of the brewery in Portsmouth, Ohio (the hill-cradled town where I grew up). He had also invited a second man who lived about a block away from our building (I could see the second man's apartment building from the window of my apartment).

After arriving in the tavern, the three of us sat down at a table. Both men were probably in their late 40s. The second man (from the other apartment building) sat across from me. He managed the apartment building where he was living and I told him I used to live in that building. I recalled I had moved out about 4 years previously. Apparently he had moved in about that same time, so he hadn't lived there while I had been living there.

The second man talked quite a bit, while I mostly listened. From the way he was talking, I gathered he was a conservative. A couple bottles of booze were brought to our table. One bottle was tall, like a wine bottle, while the other was more like a jug. Apparently we weren't supposed to drink straight out of the bottle or jug -- the liquor was poured into glasses, and the bottle and jug were taken away. The conservative second fellow didn't drink any. I had the feeling he was an alcoholic and that he had given up drinking. I drank some and the first fellow drank some.

We were served a delicious meal. Three round dishes of food were brought out. One was a cheese dish full of delicacies. Another dish contained creamy pasta.

I said something about the conservative second fellow being a person with strong opinions, and I asked him what he thought about the war in Iraq. He smiled, then launched into a speech about how we were going to win the war. He said a tunnel would be built from Baghdad to a city in southern Iraq (he named the city) and the tunnel would help us win the war. He was highly in favor of the war and of George W. Bush.

After he had said his piece. I launched into a criticism of the war. I detailed why the war was bad. I told him to look at what we could have done with all the money and how we could have alleviated so many problems, if only we hadn't wasted all the money on this ridiculous war. I told him the environment, communications, and transportation could have been improved. Poverty could have been alleviated. Many other ills could have been cured with all that money.

He now realized I was liberal-minded. I told him I had recently seen a movie about a liberal fellow who had a couple conservative friends. This situation with the two fellows reminded me of the movie. We talked a little about movies.

When we originally had entered the tavern, it had been very crowded. Other people had even sat down at our table, and I had even asked if it was customary there to seat people at occupied tables when the place was crowded. Someone had indicated that such was the custom there. Strangers sitting at our table had even looked at me while I had been talking, and I had thought I might even have a conversation with one of them.

After a while, however, practically no one else was left in the place. We were the last people there. I was amazed at how quickly the place had filled up and then emptied out.

Since it was time for us to also leave, we stood and walked out. Many people were outside, and in the crowd, I became separated from my two companions. As I walked along, I noticed several policemen, and then I saw a gruesome sight: several bodies were lying in the street, with parts of their bodies missing. The arm or leg of one man had been cut off. It looked as if a couple bodies were of women. People were crowding in to see and the police were trying to hold them back.

At the same time, I was trying to pay my bill from the tavern. I didn't know how much it was. I thought the bill came to $50, and I would pay a third of that. However, I didn't have the bill. I found a woman whom I apparently could pay, but just as I laid my money down, I felt someone grab my arm -- the fellow who had invited me. He told me to take my money back because he had already paid. He said that he had invited me and that he was paying the bill. He asked me if I had enjoyed myself, and I told him I had. He said he and the other fellow had been trying to impress me. I felt as if they had succeeded.

He and I headed back to the car. We passed the spot where the bodies had been, but they had already been removed and the traffic was back to normal. I wished I had looked more closely at the dead women. I hadn't even noticed whether they had been naked. I was now curious as to how they had looked.

After the first fellow and I walked to the car and climbed in, we sat and waited for the second fellow. I was feeling a little intoxicated.

In front of us stood a big gray building which reminded me of a nursing home on Front Street in Portsmouth. When a woman walked in front of the building, I pointed her out to the fellow and I told him I had once been married to that woman. When another woman walked by, I told the man that the second woman had been my first wife, Louise.

Indeed, the woman was Louise. She was about 30 years old and extremely pretty. She walked into the nursing home and soon I saw her in one of the windows on the second floor. I seemed to remember recently hearing that she worked in the nursing home. I hoped if she saw me she wouldn't think I was spying on her. As I continued looking at her, it looked as if she were trying to say something to me.

I climbed out of the car and walked over to building. Louise, meanwhile, was climbing out the window, and stepping onto a ladder leaning against the building under the window. She was carrying a fifth of liquor and she appeared to be intoxicated. She was wearing a frilly light-gray dress which looked like something a maid would wear. As she climbed down the ladder, I could clearly see her white panties. The view was extremely erotic. I thought perhaps she had been taking care of an old man who was paying her a lot of money to dress up like that. Basically, I thought, she was just selling herself.

When she reached the bottom and turned to me, she clearly indicated she wanted to go with me. We walked over to the car and climbed in. I sat in the driver's seat, Louise sat in the middle of the front seat and the other fellow sat on the other side of her, next to the front window. I pulled out the car and started driving down the road. By now, I was feeling very intoxicated. I jerked in front of someone and barely avoided being hit. I could hardly see the road, but Louise didn't seem to care that I was driving drunk. She was happy to see me, and I was happy to see her. She was so drunk, however, and I was so drunk, it was hard to concentrate. I continued down the road.

Religions are the scourge of the earth. God lives within our very dreams. The true wars we must fight are within ourselves.

Dream of: 09 March 2007 "Blackened Hole"

George W. Bush (about 65 years old) and I had been traveling together. Even though I didn't like him or his politics, I had been working with him. One day we were at an auditorium where he was preparing to give a speech. He and I were standing together off-stage as he prepared to walk onto the stage. Dressed in a suit, he looked quite dapper. He intimated that I probably wouldn't want to work with him anymore after today because of a policy change which he intended to implement. He mentioned something about "a blackened hole." I knew he intended to make some kind of change regarding his Iraq policy, but I was unsure what the change would be.

He left me standing as he walked out onto the stage. He stepped up to the podium in front of the large crowed and he exuberantly hollered out, "Yahoo!"

He proceeded to describe how he intended to escalate the war in Iraq. I now understood his earlier statement and I knew he was correct: I would no longer be able to work with him. I had never liked him in the first place, but his proposed escalation of the war in Iraq only exacerbated my distaste for him.

From the side of the stage I edged out onto the stage where people could see me. Since I knew the speech was being televised, I thought if the camera swept in my direction, some people might see me and realize I was someone important who was involved in the Bush campaign. I only stayed on stage a few moments, however, before stepping back off. I contemplated further how I needed to quit working for Bush and leave his employment.

Yet I believe in the battle. Islam is a scourge and a plague upon the earth. As are all religions. Wars of aggression, however, are unproductive.

Dream of: 11 May 2009 "Bombing"

I was with my father and my mother (both about 40 years old) on my father's 388 acre Farm in hilly Gallia County, Ohio, where I had been thinking about living for a while. My father said that if he and my mother went to work during the day, I would have to leave while they were gone. I thought it should be just the opposite, that I should stay on the Farm while they were gone so we wouldn't get in each other's way. When I told my father what I thought, he said he would be very disappointed if I stayed and they went to work. Since they were probably going to go to work, I realized I would probably have to leave. It still didn't make sense to me.


I climbed into the back seat of a car which my father was driving. Another man was sitting in the front passenger seat. As we headed down the road, I looked out the window and could see the skyline of New York City ahead of us. I identified one building as the new World Trade Center. It was tall and resembled the building in San Francisco which is shaped like a pyramid. As I looked at the building, I mentioned to my father that the building seemed to be sinking a bit into the ground, going lower and lower. Suddenly the building toppled over and I hollered out to my father that the World Trade Center had fallen.

I reached over the front seat and turned the knobs on the radio, trying to hear some  report about the World Trade Center, but nobody was saying anything about it yet. I thought the news was so fresh, it hadn't yet made it to the radio.

When my father steered the car toward the fallen building, I thought maybe he intended to go there right then. We were driving along a city street where many children were apparently on their way to school. Some were standing in lines and we could hear the children talking excitedly, saying, "World Trade Center. World Trade Center." Some children were crying and I felt like crying myself. I thought to myself, "What a shame."

I reflected on all the people who must have been killed in the building. Obviously the Moslems must have attacked again. I said, "I don't care what he does."

I was referring to George W. Bush. I had previously thought bombing the Moslems was a mistake, but now I was so angry by what had happened, I didn't care if Bush bombed the Moslems.

I began to realize the city in front of us was not New York City, but Luxembourg. I thought the Moslems might have attacked Luxembourg because of a song which had recently come out. The song was called, "Oh You Sexy Man You."

I knew the Moslems hated anything to do with songs and sex, and I thought the song might have prompted them to attack the World Trade Center in Luxembourg.

The very universe seems in a state of war and the enemy seems to lie within. Bush is an image of that enemy, incompetence.

Dream of: 27 October 2010 "Beating A Rhythm"

I was attending a class reunion. Not many people had shown up. I finally lay down next to woman who was apparently the wife of someone there. She was wearing a skirt, and I was naked from the waist down, so my partially erect penis was rubbing against her bare leg. Suddenly everyone stood up and I also stood. Apparently it was time to leave. I didn't know if anyone had seen what I had been doing and I tried to pull my tee-shirt down over my penis, but I was still worried people would notice my erection. I overheard someone say that if a vote were taken as to who would be most likely to cause a scandal, I would win.

Lying on a nearby table was a little pamphlet which contained information and pictures about the members of my class. I wanted to make sure I had one of the programs and I picked one up. I opened the pamphlet and saw a list of the names. As I ran my eyes over the list, it appeared to be incomplete. I specifically looked for the name of "Hurley" because I knew Hurley hadn't actually graduated, although he had originally been in my class. Thus I was curious whether his name would be on the list. I didn't think he would be on the list, and indeed he wasn't. 

When everyone walked outside of the building, I found myself on a city street lined with shops. While everyone else walked along, I climbed on the back of an elephant and rode the elephant down the street. In my right hand I was holding a long silver dagger, while lying in front of me on the elephant's back was some kind of metal plate. I began pounding the tip of the dagger on the plate, the same as hitting a drum with a drumstick, beating out a march-rhythm as we all proceeded along the sidewalk.

As we passed the little shops and outdoor cafes, I thought I noticed George W. Bush sitting at a table in one cafe. As we drew closer, however, I couldn't tell if the person was Bush, and we rode on by.

When we reached a corner where a green plant was growing, the elephant balked and wouldn't go straight on. Instead we turned left and headed down a narrow shop-lined corridor.

As Bush sits on the sideline, I will mount my war-elephant, pick up my little dagger, and pound out the rhythm of war. I pray I do not turn into my very enemy.


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