Posted On: Wednesday - September 2nd 2020 1:49PM MST
In Topics:   Music  Humor
No, this one is not some grandiose dream about people living in harmony and being judged by the contents of their characters by a Commie philandering race hustler. Plus, hopefully I won't get shot for writing about it by the Deep State or somebody...
(This is the closest file photo I could get to the scene in my head.)
We don't remember but a small percentage of our dreams, because it's only when we wake up right after that we remember at all. Even then, for me at least, the story and scenes will be gone from my head by later in the day, unlike the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Junior's one, unless I make a special effort to hold onto them. Sometimes, I'm left with one scene in my head, and only for a few days. This dream was not even anything very weird, interesting, or foreboding - it's probably nothing but an indication that I follow politics too much. Hey, if it's good for a blog post, what the hell.
I was at an outdoor concert with just a small crowd. It was nowhere that I recognized, and then I realized that I was in Ireland and these were Irish people standing around watching and listening. (I'd attended a small outdoor concert in Ireland long ago, from which I still have the free T-shirt somebody was tossing to the crowd. That explains the venue in the dream, I guess.) While we were waiting for the music to begin, one of the band members, the leader I guess, call him Bono, was calling out to the audience to get them excited about the show.
" ... and thanks to the Turks for coming here today!" WTF? The audience hushed up completely. "WTF?" was exactly what they were thinking. "Are there a lot of Turks in Ireland, what are they doing here, and why is this guy calling out to them rather than his Irish audience?" was what I was thinking. I looked around and then saw a few dark guys that I guess were the Turks in question. This small venue was the perfect place to be heard by this arrogant lefty rock-and-roller, and I waited for SOMEONE in the crowd to yell "Shut up and sing, asshole!" Though they were dumbfounded and some of them pissed, no one yelled out a thing, and I looked around at the huge stadium (you know how dreams morph a lot) and woke up before I personally could yell "Shut up and sing, asshole!" Isn't that just frustrating when you wake up before the dream should be done?
I'm assuming this was Bono and U2, so I'd at least like to have heard the long version of Bad* before I awoke.
Any Sigmund Freud acolytes in this Peak Stupidity audience? It's a small venue, so feel free to give your learned opinion on what this all means. Potty training problems when I was a child maybe? My parents playing too much classical music instead of Zeppelin and Cheap Trick? Resentful of my Father regarding my mother's ...
... forbidding me to partake of our psychedelic mushrooms until puberty?
* See Bono, you'd be serving up