Jimi Hendrix - Back From The Dead

Jimi Hendrix - Voodoo Child (Woodstock 1969)
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Dreams From The Longest Morning of 2008
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I. The Unremembered Dream

In this post I review a series of "dreamlets", that is snippets of dreams which lead into each other. There was a snippet, seemingly the starting point for the sequence of later dreams which followed. I struggle now to recall that first dream which I can sense, but not recall.

I recall the later dreamlets better because they came closer to the end of my dream experience. I must make a decision, try to go back to the beginning, and lose all of the dreams, or pick a safe place to begin my dream recall.

I chose to play it safe, and to recall what I could, and to allow the first dream to remain a mystery.

All the tens of thousands of dreams that we dreaming creatures must experience over the course of a lifetime, and yet only a small fraction are ever recalled. I wonder how important dreams are to who we are, and how it is that we know so little about that part of our experience.

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II. The Zombie Wormhole

The first dreamlet that I can recall involved a type of wormhole. The kind portrayed in movies like Stargate. This kind of wormhole is an opening to another space-time.

There were ZOMBIES in my dream - yes, this dream is about Zombies, and wormholes!

In the dream there were only a handful of non ZOMBIEFIED people left in the time and space in which I was visiting. I had a mission - to save those few non ZOMBIEFIED people which were near the verge of being eaten by the ZOMBIES.

I used some kind of small hand held device to open a worm hole.

The worm hole began to swirl, and air started rushing into it.

I suspect the wormhole led to outer space, and the planet's atmosphere was rushing through the wormhole toward the vacuum of space.

For some reason I wasn't entirely afraid of the wormhole - probably because I could shut the wormhole down. But I also wasn't afraid of being sucked into the wormhole because the vortex didn't seem strong enough to pull me into it - not by much anyway.

This swirling whirlpool like wormhole was having a great affect upon all the other people which by the way were ZOMBIES! They were slowly getting sucked into the wormhole from all points near and far.

Except for a few others who were not ZOMBIES, every other "person" was flying past quickly and swirling into the wormhole.
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III. Jimi Hendrix - Back from the Dead

The next dreamlet has an entirely different set.

I'm on a street corner, in a suburban setting, and I hear people on a nearby sidewalk talking about a most interesting topic. What are they discussing? Being able to bring back the DEAD!

And as proof of this new day - a day in which people no longer need to fear death - it turns out that JIMI HENDRIX has just been brought back from the dead.

Jimi Hendrix' body has been reanimated straight from the GRAVE and he's walking around for the very first time since his untimely death - and only a few steps from me.

While he is not acting like a ZOMBIE, he is not exactly acting like he is all that happy to be back either. He seems very confused, very fragile, and very hungry.

Jimi Hendrix has just been told that he had died, that he had been dead for a very long time, and that he has been BROUGHT BACK FROM THE DEAD. And he is hungry.

JIMI is wearing all white clothing, and I feared that he was on the verge of going ZOMBIE.

A handful of people bring him out of the street and into a MCDONALD'S where they offer him some food and something to drink. They sit with him - only just then discovering that he has risen from the dead. And they are not frightened, but instead treat Jim Hendrix, as if he is a celebrity - a celebrity from the dead.




IV. Magic Oil Can of a Future Past

The next dreamlet's storyline has me suddenly appearing within a racing car.

I'm not sure if the car I am in is a race car, or just a car that is racing very fast. I'm supposed to be there, and no notice is taken of my simply being there - even though I have no idea why I am there.

There are others. There is one person sitting in one of the rear passenger seats, and the driver.

There is some talk between the driver, the rear seat passenger, and "me". I end up having to fake my way through the conversation because I really don't belong there.

There is some mention of a "can of oil" which I found. The style on the oil can dates to an earlier era - when oil was a new product. I found the style interesting and decided to keep the can.

When I show the "oil can" to the race car driver the style of the "oil can" changes into a futuristic style, and I am confused. I put the "oil can" into a backpack that I have, knowing that it is valuable, and that I will need it - but why I do not know.

At the end of the road upon which I am traveling the dreamlet transforms into another dreamlet.




V. A Gift for the Dead

In the last dreamlet I make my way to the top of a hill. There is a fine looking home atop the hill. I walk into the home, and find that I am at a party to which I haven't been invited. I see that the people there are older. I decide to leave.

I try to make my way out of the home, but I am confused by its style of construction, and so I decide to climb to the upper level of the home. The house is on a hill, is multi level in design, and has an exit at one of the upper levels. It is a very beautiful home.

As I make my way upstairs I find no one there - except for an old man. He is frail. His daughter who is downstairs would not approve of me disturbing the old man for fear of his poor health.

As I approached the old man I recalled (how does one recall something in a dream) that I had seen some gravestones outside of the home behind a row of trees (down the hill a bit).

I reached into my backpack, and pulled out the "oil can" and discovered it had been transformed into a bottle of wine. I was walking toward the man to offer him the bottle of wine, when his daughter started coming up the stairs, and I felt it was time to leave.

I asked the old man if he wanted the bottle of wine, and he said no, that I had another use for it, and so I held it in my hands, and rapidly made my way to a large patio door leading outside the old man's room. From this location I could see that the house was atop a hill, and was surrounded by trees, and that the ocean wasn't far off in the distance.

When I looked past a row of trees which were nearby I saw a row of gravestones, the same one's I had seen earlier in my dream as I walked up the hill (to the house). I knew that I was supposed to do something with the object I held in my hands.

I looked down at my hands again, and noticed the bottle of wine had transformed into a small statuette of a lighthouse. I walked along a path behind the house toward the gravestones, and found a circular spot overlooking the row of stones, and I placed the lighthouse statuette there.

As a sign of remembrance, and respect.

I Awoke - The End.

I greet the summer of 2008.

I Just Donated To Barack Obama!

I just donated to Barack Obama's Presidential Campaign!
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I may not be able to stop global warming, or get our troops out of Iraq, or institute a universal health care plan, or rebuild our failing infrastructure, or make the tax code fair, or save Social Security, or increase pay for teachers, or protect our jobs here in the United States of America, but I can do this - and so I did.

Admittedly, it's a small donation, but I hope to make one a month up through November.
And yes, I'm still struggling to make ends meet, we're barely getting by, but I couldn't live with myself if I didn't put my money where my mouth (blog) has been for many months now.

I invite my readers to do the same. If you're fed up with the endless crap, it's time to help change it.

Think of it this way: One Million Pissed Off Bloggers Donate $100 each and that will raise about as much money as John McCain's very pretty and much younger wife has in her bank account. So we need to raise a lot of money folks.
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I Love The Scenes Of Barack In Springfield, Illinois
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The email response which I received after donating

Dear Eugene,

Thank you for your generous donation of $25.00.

Your gift will be immediately put to work building a campaign to change our country and our politics for the better.

Looking for more ways to get involved?

Head over to My.BarackObama.com where our growing set of tools puts the future of this campaign in your hands:

http://my.barackobama.com

On My.BarackObama.com you can...

... build your own profile and connect with supporters near you
... find or create your own local or national group
... create your own personal fundraising page and track your progress
... find events near you or plan your own
... chronicle your campaign experience on your own blog

There will be much more to come in the weeks and months ahead thanks to your support.

Thank you again for your donation.

Obama for America
http://www.BarackObama.com
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Springfield, Illinois' Intersection From Hell

I drove down the street.
The Street.
The one that made all the difference
In your lives.
The one that killed your son.

You were driving that day.
You took a left turn, but I won't say where.
Let's just say that it was on the north end of town.
It was a day that none of us will ever forget.

Your son was in the front passenger seat.
I don't know if you were speeding.
I don't know if you were responsible at all.
For I have seen that turn.
And it is deadly.

That's right - it is deadly.
That street, at that specific location.
Is as deadly as a loaded gun.

On that day.
That tragic day.
You turned left.
And a car slammed into your car.
On the passenger side.
Killing your son.

It was a car out of nowhere.
At least it must have seemed that way
To you, and your son.

For the car which killed your son was
coming up the hill.
Yes, the intersection is atop a hill.
And it is the hill that makes this intersection
A killer.

Now some might look at the hill
And say that it isn't really a hill at all.
And they would be right.
For there really is no way to tell that the hill
exist until you hit the crest - of the hill.

The slow gentle incline up that hill is ever so mild.
So mild that it doesn't betray the danger at the top.

Nor is there any warning for those coming
from the opposite direction - the direction you came
from on that tragic day.

This spot on the road is an accident waiting to happen.
It is a deadly road inside the city of Springfield Illinois.

Your son was only a year older than my daughter.
And they went to the same school.
They knew each other.

I remember watching your son play basketball.
Your family was totally supportive from the stands.
And your son seemed very athletic.
He, being your oldest son, must have been
your pride and joy.

I will always remember my daughter crying her eyes out.
After she was told of your son's death.
She went to the funeral.
With her little early teen girlfriends.
It was the second funeral of a boy who died
At their school in less than two years.

The City of Springfield has placed a temporary four way stop
At the intersection at the top of the hill.
It looks very temporary indeed.
Shockingly so.
The stop signs are not even posted within the ground.
And it has been three summers since your son was killed.
Leading me to believe that some engineer has prevented
a stop light, or permanent stop sign from being posted
at this killer intersection.

I'm sure the politicians blame the engineers.
And the engineers point at each other.
What does one life cost?
Do the bean counters really care?
They have their arbitrary rule book to refer to.
The one that killed your son, and which will one
day kill others.
It's called cost containment.

Three years later.
I see the flowers that are left on the side of the road.
I see the little string of battery operated miniature lights which
were meant to bring life to the spot where your son died.
I find that heartbreaking.
I guess I just have difficulty turning sorrow to joy.
Please forgive me.

People still remember your son.
They still love him.
And they miss him.

I know that you are the head of
A religious family.
A very religious family.
You surely take comfort in your faith.
And in knowing your son is in Heaven.
With Jesus Christ your savior.

This knowledge has allowed you to heal
both physically, and spiritually.
It has allowed you to continue in the
face of self doubts, and grief.

And in this there is joy.
But it is a joy tempered by fear.
A fear that the killer intersection waits
for yet another victim.

If Springfield, Illinois were a smaller town.
And this were a simpler time.
Someone would just go out, and post a permanent
stop sign.
But trying to save lives in this manner would put
anyone who tried behind bars, and into a cage.

Ironic and unjust as it would be.

Every time I pass by that intersection I can't help but to
wonder how long it will be until the City of Springfield, Illinois
Removes the temporary stop signs atop the hill.
And how long it will be until the next person dies
At that intersection from hell.

Dick Cheney Told Truth About Iraq!

U.S. Vice President Dick Cheney Tells Truth About Iraq

In recent years U.S. Vice President Dick Cheney has taken a great deal of criticism regarding his role in leading the U.S. into a war with Iraq. Some claim that he is, more than any other person, responsible for all of the death, and mayhem which naturally resulted from the U.S. invasion and occupation of Iraq.

However, few know how Dick Cheney stood resolute in his opposition of a U.S. invasion. Few know that Dick Cheney knew going in that if the U.S. invaded Iraq that the U.S. would become trapped in a quagmire.

Dick knew!

Not only did Mr. Cheney know the truth about the consequences of a U.S. invasion of Iraq, he also spoke out about it.

So now we know.

We know that Vice President Dick Cheney knew long in advance that sending troops to Iraq was not worth the lives which would be lost. We know that Dick Cheney knew that the U.S. would be trapped in a quagmire if it invaded Iraq. We know that Dick Cheney knew that it would destablize the region.

We know that Dick Knew!

And we wonder how Dick can live with himself knowing what he has done.

YouTube Video Interview of Dick Cheney in 1994 referring to the first Gulf War, and why the U.S., under the first Bush Administration, wisely decided not to invade Iraq.

Time's Up

Green Day - Boulevard of Broken Dreams

Time's Up

Stones In Neat Rows Stand Silent
Grass so perfectly cut
An occasional flower
A shade tree creeks softly
in the breeze.

Dark shadows
and soft gray light
separates the
letters and numbers
etched
Upon the cold
still gravestones.

Moss grows
Ants walk
Bees Buzz
Butterflies dart
On an otherwise
Typical Day
In this - the city
of the dead

Older stones speak
to each other
For no one visits now
All relatives long dead
Only the odd rambler
The misguided teenager
The historian
Tread upon their soil

Many are damaged
Feebly presenting
the Names.

Oh the names.
The countless names
and dates.
Long forgotten.
But so very important
So very very important
long ago.

But it is the newer stones
Which are saddest of all
For they are so new
in appearance
That they could have been
erected days ago
yet have been here
for many years.
And even decades.

Upon these shiny stones
Are the photographs.
Pictures of those who have passed
Etched with modern precision.
The deceased stare back
from their own grave stones
Smiling

There are children here too
Children killed
In auto accidents
Reported in long
ago faded newspaper clippings

The sixteen year olds.
Bright beautiful
High School queens and kings
Fallen.
Lives cut short
In senseless carnage
Never to know adulthood
Always to be mourned in
Youth.

Oh the pain.
Oh the searing never ending pain
Of parents barely able to live
After losing their beloved
Children.

Mommy's little baby.
Daddy's little princess.
Now lay silent
Under feet.

Coffins laying within
dark rich dirt
wet brown clay
Awaiting
Resurrection.

Parent's solemn vows to "Never Forget".

We shall never forget you our beloved
son, or daughter. We shall never forget.

The sickly sweet smell of wet rotting flowers
It rained not long ago - fills the air
but only momentarily so.

The distant sound of a lawn mower fills the void
But only temporarily so.
And then there is silence.

A deafening silence
And then
Years pass.
Parents die.
And join their fallen children
One to the right
One to the left
There is a family here
Of sorts

And the surviving children
Now parents or
grandparents themselves
leave notes
And flowers
And keep the vigil going
just one more generation
While they still can
Before that family
That precious family
Finally
winks out.

Some simply stop
In their cars from the road
And look
At the stone
Which cast a shadow
Upon their loved one's grave

They wonder
Is this what it all comes too
Is there any meaning here?

Are we meant to live only to die
And then be forgotten?
After those who knew us
Those who loved us
Grow old
And die themselves?

Is this all there is?