It's up to you not to heed the Call Up
As you know, I am a much sought-after interpreter of dreams. I can often be found in rooms redolent of awful-smelling tea saying things like "The flowers? That means you're fat" and "The clown? Freud believes that is a sign that your sneakers look stupid" to people who pay me handsomely.Throughout history men and women have claimed inspiration for all sorts of things on the basis of their dreams. Mostly these dreams result in Scientology and the Church of Jesus Christ and Latter Day Saints, but in select cases they have also led to Disneyland and the song "Yesterday."
I do not believe in the prophetic properties of dreams, as I am a hardbitten realist secure in the belief that there is no world but the one we have created (this is also known as despair), but I have something to share with you: Last Night I Had A Dream.
I and this guy named Ben (in real life, I know no Ben) were hanging around with John McCain. For whatever reason, Ben was a big fan of The Clash. I noted that his enjoyment of The Clash wasn't one where he imposed his tastes on anyone or even made John McCain and me listen to obscure B-sides. He just liked The Clash.
At one point Ben said, "The first time I heard the word 'Sandinista' was on a Clash record,"
(This was not true of me.)
John McCain said, "I've always liked The Clash, too."
I recall that McCain was wearing a green bathrobe and didn't smell too good, as if the effort required to look presentable on the campaign trail decompensated rapidly when he was just hanging out with Ben and me.
Ben left the room and McCain leaned over to me and said:
"You know, I hate the heck out of The Clash."
The way I interpret this dream, Ben is either Ben Jones, the man who played Cooter in the original "Dukes of Hazzard" TV series, or Ben, the good ("ben") will of the American people.
I also remember that I liked John McCain at one point, especially in the 2000 election as a worthy adversary of Al Gore and a viable presidential alternative. But lately I think he will say anything to get elected, doesn't believe what he says and, if he isn't horrified by his own decision to invite Sarah Palin to the ticket, isn't worthy of serving. I have always believed that a personal well of horror as a prerequisite for public office.
So that McCain told the American people one thing and me - his trusted advisor - another is a concern, because I just told you. And I don't even know you.
Don't get me wrong: I don't dislike McCain because of his age or his own dislike of The Clash. I am wary of him because he didn't tell the truth to our earnest friend Ben.
And I think the dream I had this morning is just as valid an influence on your voting as is the cynical choice as Vice Presidential nominee of a reflection of America's growing comfort with mediocrity and provincialism. Stranger things have happened, but I wonder what them Duke Boys'll do now?
posted
by Marty Barrett at Monday, October 06, 2008
5 Comments:
Well, I have to come clean here: my name is Ben, and yes, that was me in your dream.
I’d like to further add that this was not the first time John McCain has perjured himself about his musical tastes in other people’s subconscious minds: like, that one time we were in the dream of a 24-year-old dental student in Plano, TX, McCain insisted that he “really appreciated” Pete Shelley’s post-Buzzcocks solo stuff, but as soon as I stepped out for a SECOND he declared it to be “weird disco crap,” and that he’d “rather return to Hanoi for seconds” than ever hear it again. Really, it’s the lying that hurts the most.
As a great American once said: Breaker One, Breaker One...I might be crazy, but I ain't dumb.
Also, this comments section turns innocent homeland quotation marks into Cyrillic. And hates America.
"I Know-No Ben"
Had a dream just the other night,
John McCain gave me such a fright,
I no-no Ben
I no-no Ben
I no-no Beennnnn,
Marty, it's alright.
Sandinista was the word
on the record, but ain't you heard
I no-no Ben
I no-no Ben
I no-no Beennnn,
Marty, it's alright.
Say Pa (pay), Lin (lin)
Pa (lin), Pa (Lin)
Palin, No Ben
Marty, it's alright.
Said I no-no Ben
I no-no Beennnn,
Marty, it's alright.
Had a Ben/McCain dialogue
Next time it'll be Boss Hogg
I no-no Ben
I no-no Ben
I no-no Beennn,
Marty, it's alright.
It's been four days and I'm still waiting for the piano accompaniment.
Give me seven days, like a spell-casting witch girl trapped in a well.
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