(This column was first published in 2013)
The other morning I awoke really early and since it was too early to walk to the diner I perused the news on my computer for awhile.
Somehow I must have grown weary as I turned from article to article and wound up dozing off again into a half sleep.
In my half sleep, a nightmare began to form. It began with a replay of the famous scene in “The Wolfman” (Anthony Hopkins version) where Lawrence Talbot is strapped in a chair in a medical assembly room. A professor of medicine is addressing the crowd to the effect that his subject is merely suffering from the hallucination that he is a werewolf and that careful treatment will return him to normal.
As the doctor lectures glibly on with his back to the shackled Talbot, he cannot see what the audience sees which is the transformation of the man into a wolf-man. By the time he turns, it is too late. The symbolism of this scene somehow was very important to me in the dream.
Now my dream shifted and I watched Jet planes flying overhead leaving massive trails
behind them. “They are dropping more of the time-release poison” I heard someone say. The scene shifted again and I could see a room full of business men. One man was addressing the group and saying that the plan to change currency to plastic for the poor and middle classes would be “the best way to track and control them.”
He continued speaking but the scene shifted again. Kindly looking officers were going from house to house removing all our protective firearms “for the greater good” I heard one of them say.
A drift of time in the dream and then a strange alien group of officers entered the country and began carrying all the same people off to what looked liked concentration camps. “For the greater good” I could also hear them saying.
I saw them loading in members of my family and some of my friends. I looked on in terror at all this, and then I shuddered awake. There was my computer as I had left it. I was certainly grateful it was just a dream.
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