Pick a Side

Last night I slept like a dead person. I woke up at 9:30. I had a long, weird dream.

I was in the little Eastern Kentucky town where my grandparents lived. The official population sign there read 165. Not a big place.

I went to the courthouse, which also functioned as the town hall. There were Muslims all over the place. Not American Muslims. Sullen foreigners in weird clothes. Like Afghans. I didn’t see any obvious pedophiles, though, so maybe they were not Afghans.

I was in a little vehicle, and I drove it into the courthouse. I drove by a line of men. Half of the men were Muslims. They looked like jihadis. They were silent, and they looked angry. The second half of the line was all Israeli soldiers in uniform. They were smiling. Friendly. I glared at the jihadis as I drove by, but when I passed the Israelis, I said, “Shalom!”

The Israelis and jihadis were not fighting. They were waiting for something, right next to each other.

I found myself out behind the courthouse with my dad. We were in a little miniature train with no glass in the windows. It stopped, and a grim-looking lady I took to be Indian walked up and gave me some papers. One looked like it had been written with brushes, in colored ink.

I resented the fact that she was handing me a bizarre document in a foreign language, as though she were somehow entitled. I dumped it on the ground. She had no authority.

As we left the town, I saw blocks of red brick apartment buildings in ruins. No windows, roofs, or inner walls. They looked like they had been empty for a hundred years or more, like Roman ruins.

I didn’t know why they were there. They looked like they had been built for 10,000 people.

My wife thinks it’s an end-time dream. She said the Jews were God’s army.

Makes sense to me. When the end comes, evil spirits will be unleashed on the world in huge numbers, and spirits that serve God will rescue people who are raptured. Maybe the jihadis and Jews in the dream were not fighting because their missions didn’t conflict. God will allow evil spirits to do what they like to people who aren’t raptured, because they rejected his help, but he will send spirits to pull certain people out while the rest are tormented.

The Bible says God seals his servants on their foreheads so they will be set apart. Maybe the obnoxious lady with the documents was trying to get a person who had been sealed to give up and submit. I thought she was a contemptible idiot.

These days I don’t feel like doing anything but eating, sleeping, and praying. I’m forcing myself to look after the house and so on. That’s about it.

My belief about dreams is that the police usually represent demons, while soldiers represent God’s angels. In your homeland, soldiers are almost always your friends, but the police are dangerous. The police fight citizens, not foreign troops, and they are often corrupt and brutal. It is often necessary to remind them of our rights in order to avoid being abused. We have to remind demons, too.

The police generally go after people who have opened doors through wrongdoing, just like demons. Soldiers don’t bother citizens. They are almost always helpful.

I support the police, but I also believe in avoiding and placating them. I believe in treating them like dangerous mental patients who need to be soothed. I’m white, and my family lived in upscale suburbs, but my mother told me a lot of cops were crazy and that I should never give them an excuse to go off. That is true. There are a lot of black people who think the police are slaves to white people, but the police hurt white people more than any other group.

I am grateful for the 90% or so of police who can always be trusted, but I can’t distinguish them from the others until something goes wrong, so I treat all police like potential assailants. I’m also aware that every policeman is insulted, slandered, and threatened throughout his career, so when I interact with them, I want them to know I’m not an entitlement case with a chip on my shoulder.

I don’t worry about soldiers. They’re not interested in me, and they have no authority over me.

I don’t know if my dream means anything, but I’m passing it along just in case.