I have friends that think I am being sensational in my stated belief that the leftists in American government are moving us toward socialism and ultimately marxism. They mock me because it is inconceivable to them. One of my friend's parents were political refugees from Cuba. He looks over the prosperity that he enjoys here in the US and declares that this is the greatest nation in the world. Because we do not resemble Cuba he concludes that we are no where near marxism and not heading that way. "You need to stop listening to Glenn Beck!" he says.
Dwight Eisenhower's Secretary of Agriculture, Ezra Taft Benson met with USSR's Nikkita Khrushchev in 1954 and related:
Ezra Taft Benson” I have talked face to face with the godless communist leaders. It may surprise you to learn that I was host to Mr. Khrushchev for a half day when he visited the United States, not that I’m proud of it. I opposed his coming then, and I still feel it was a mistake to welcome this atheistic murderer as a state visitor. But, according to President Eisenhower, Khrushchev had expressed a desire to learn something of American Agriculture — and after seeing Russian agriculture I can understand why. As we talked face to face, he indicated that my grandchildren would live under communism. After assuring him that I expected to do all in my power to assure that his and all other grandchildren will live under freedom he arrogantly declared in substance:
You Americans are so gullible. No, you won’t accept communism outright, but we’ll keep feeding you small doses of socialism until you’ll finally wake up and find you already have communism. We won’t have to fight you. We’ll so weaken your economy until you’ll fall like overripe fruit into our hands.’
Well?
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Friday, October 9, 2009
The diseased, another dream
A group of us were driving some place; no place that I recognized. While driving up a lonely country road we came to the outskirts of a small town at the top of a hill. As we began to enter the town, we started to encounter bodies in the road way- of course this was very traumatic with very heavy feeling. For some reason we were passing a joint between us. Our vehicle, a Volkswagen mini-bus, ran over a couple of these corpses so we decided that we needed to drive very carefully so as to avoid them. We decided to drive around this town to investigate what was going on. It did not occur to us that this might be very dangerous except that we had an old .38 Smith that I pulled out; but then I am always armed. In this small town it did not take us long to find the downtown area, which, seemed to have been the place of a conflict. Approximately a third of the retail stores on Main Street were burned out and some of the homes also seemed to suffer from the same event. We did not see much of any other kind of violence or calamity but the fact that this many of the store fronts were burned suggested some kind of disaster. Interestingly, we did not see any living town’s people around; although we were sure they were merely indoors. After driving through the down town area we decided to go and investigate the scene where we found the bodies. Due to a lack of traumatic evidence on the bodies we began to worry about the possibilities of a virus or a bio agent of some sort. Upon this notion, we realized that we were not careful about protecting ourselves from airborne contaminants. For this reason we thought we were beginning to feel the symptoms of our exposure to something. In our perceived exposure we decided that we needed to take refuge in an antique schoolhouse/church which was on the outskirts of town at the top of the hill. The schoolhouse looked very much like the schoolhouse in Walnut Grove. As we began to settle in the symptoms started to intensify; dizziness, nausea, lethargy, headaches, and an inability to think clearly. After a little while some of the town’s people began to come around the school/church to investigate our being there. They appeared to be interested in helping us but they did not really do anything except come near to us speaking in soft tones- they demonstrated empathy. As they did, however, our symptoms seemed to lessen. I remember that as they began to minister empathy a delirium, which seems to have been comparable to a fog, began to lift from me. As the fog began to lift, and as quickly as it lifted, I began to be able to see clearly; to include realizing that the sickness that was killing me was completely imagined. I realized that the perceived illness would have killed me unless these town’s people came and administered this empathy. I was astounded to realize that this illness, as deadly as it was, really had no power except to make us believe that we were going to die. When the symptoms finally left me I started to walk around to try and figure out what was happening. I came across friends from the bus that were still sick and dying, I walked over to many of the corpses and noticed that some of these people had died in activity because of their positions, and I saw piles of diarrhea and vomit everywhere. I remember being constantly concerned about avoiding this excrement. There was evidence of great carnage but based on my own experience it was all a product of the imagination. The dream ended and I was left certain that I needed to esteem this one by writhing it down.
Disconnected memories of the dream: In the background, I understood that this phenomenon was taking place globally. I understood that this town was a small picture of what was happening on a larger scale everywhere.
- I remember by their appearance that the town’s folk were obviously not qualified to be administers of quality medicine- they were average people. These people were also clearly not religious folk or clergy; they were blatantly your “next door neighbor”. Moreover, they knew themselves, that they had no answers/cures for this disease except their empathy. These were a very sober bunch of people who when approaching us did so with much caution. They were not afraid of the “virus” they were afraid of who we might be.
- Charlie M. had tunneled under the road where a large number of the bodies were concentrated, but for a reason that I do not recognize.
- I remember that while in my stupor I was sitting in a chair that had buttons on the arm rest that were the same buttons that you would find on an office telephone that were the buttons to different phone lines. There was a phone on this chair that someone, I seem to remember an executive like a mayor or someone, would have used but neither the chair or the phone were being used or had been in a while. This was in the schoolhouse/church.
- I remember that the gun had no relevance except that it caused the town’s people concern which caused them to pause in their ministry to me. It seems that after a while the gun disappeared from the dream altogether.
- I also remember that some of the sick were resistant to the ministry of the town’s folk because they did not trust them. Therefore, the town’s folk did not impose themselves. I received the ministry and the subsequent healing because I did not resist. I do not remember why I did not resist I just did not.
- As I look back on this dream I do not remember ANY religious or spiritual feelings or dynamics. The schoolhouse/church building did not have any associated feelings or notions of spirituality.
- I am not sure what the joint would mean, if anything. I traveled cross country in the same kind of Volkswagen van and smoked much weed. Perhaps God cannot give me a dream of a Volkswagen van without my memory imposing itself.
Disconnected memories of the dream: In the background, I understood that this phenomenon was taking place globally. I understood that this town was a small picture of what was happening on a larger scale everywhere.
- I remember by their appearance that the town’s folk were obviously not qualified to be administers of quality medicine- they were average people. These people were also clearly not religious folk or clergy; they were blatantly your “next door neighbor”. Moreover, they knew themselves, that they had no answers/cures for this disease except their empathy. These were a very sober bunch of people who when approaching us did so with much caution. They were not afraid of the “virus” they were afraid of who we might be.
- Charlie M. had tunneled under the road where a large number of the bodies were concentrated, but for a reason that I do not recognize.
- I remember that while in my stupor I was sitting in a chair that had buttons on the arm rest that were the same buttons that you would find on an office telephone that were the buttons to different phone lines. There was a phone on this chair that someone, I seem to remember an executive like a mayor or someone, would have used but neither the chair or the phone were being used or had been in a while. This was in the schoolhouse/church.
- I remember that the gun had no relevance except that it caused the town’s people concern which caused them to pause in their ministry to me. It seems that after a while the gun disappeared from the dream altogether.
- I also remember that some of the sick were resistant to the ministry of the town’s folk because they did not trust them. Therefore, the town’s folk did not impose themselves. I received the ministry and the subsequent healing because I did not resist. I do not remember why I did not resist I just did not.
- As I look back on this dream I do not remember ANY religious or spiritual feelings or dynamics. The schoolhouse/church building did not have any associated feelings or notions of spirituality.
- I am not sure what the joint would mean, if anything. I traveled cross country in the same kind of Volkswagen van and smoked much weed. Perhaps God cannot give me a dream of a Volkswagen van without my memory imposing itself.
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