Spring Dreams
It was another service at the Church of Twitter being held at the Arlington group home for the mentally challenged. Brother Divine of the International Peace Movement (AKA Freddy Ritchings) was speaking and Tweeting simultaneously, as the other residents listened and watched.
"I am in a large, beachside vacation home, dining on the veranda with Leonard Nimoy, who is wearing his 'Star Trek' Spock costume."
"He's dead!" protested Buckner.
"He's speaking to us from the Great Beyond!" exclaimed Melinda.
"A teenage boy is also dining with us," continued Brother Divine. "He finishes his meal, rises to leave, and says, 'See ya later, Spock.' Leonard gets very angry and tells the boy he is not Spock. I tell Leonard to stop being so hard on the boy, and that he shouldn't wear his Spock costume if he doesn't want to be called 'Spock.' Then Leonard picks up a knife and plunges it into his own heart!"
"What?!" cried Theresa, reaching for comfort from Millie, the enormous brown helping dog.
"Leonard falls to the ground dead," continued Brother Divine, "but in his place pops up a dragon to fight on his behalf!" (Social worker Hue Nguyen looked up in surprise from her crocheting.) "Then rocks are flying at us from every direction, and I run for cover into the house. Suddenly I hear a voice intoning, 'For every one percent that sacrifice themselves, ten percent of the innocent people will be saved!'"
"That's the stupidest story I ever heard!" exclaimed Larry.
"It's a prophecy!" cried Cedric, clutching Aloysius, his teddy bear. He looked around, expecting the ghost of CIA agent Henry Samuelson to appear and explain it.
"It's simply a metaphor," said the social worker, sternly. "Stabbing yourself is suicide. The dream is simply about making sacrifices for the greater good, but stabbing yourself in real life causes blood to shoot out, not a dragon!" The residents looked very disappointed. "Do you understand? Stabbing yourself will not help anybody!"
"Well, how else can you make sacrifices?" asked Melinda.
"You can wash the dishes when it's my turn," said Larry.
A few miles to the east, Angela de la Paz was babysitting Lucas Cigemeier, her birth child. She watched him fall asleep in his crib, then sat down in the rocking chair to close her eyes. Soon she met him in the Dreamtime, where his soul was a little older than it seemed on Earth. He asked her about the plane crash his parents had been discussing while the television was on, and she remembered that she had gone into labor with him right after seeing the Korean plane crash victims in the Dreamtime. She pondered this for a moment, then took him there. The souls were still in agony and confusion, but angels were slowly and carefully collecting them, to take them to Heaven. The pilot's soul was dark and twisted and guarded by a Chimera. She called for the help of her own mother, the grandmother of Lucas, and together they eased the Chimera away from the pilot as Lucas watched in amazement. "You are one now," said the grandmother, and Lucas nodded and accepted a kiss and an embrace.
Angela opened her eyes. She looked again at Lucas, who had fallen into a deep sleep now, his arm wrapped around the stuffed puma she had given him for his first birthday last Sunday. Angela shed a tear of sadness and joy.
A couple miles away, Barbie Bucephalus (fka Basia Karbusky, fka as Barbara Hellmeister) had recently left Justice Department attorney Atticus Hawk who, exhausted after a busy weekend with her, lay down for a nap. Barbie had successfully modified her Nazi grandfather's journal recipes so that the drugs could still evade security clearance drug tests without turning people into zombies, but the drug cocktail she was secretly using on Hawk was not ideal. While it did give him a false sense of happiness and love in his life, his rational mind was still capable of doubting that this came from Barbie. For instance, the recent (happy!) prosecution deal made with David (“Betray Us”) Petraeus had left Hawk with the delusion that Petraeus had signed the deal because he loved Atticus Hawk. Hawk had similarly come to the conclusion that public outcries over Guantanamo, the CIA Torture Report, and NSA spying had died down because Atticus Hawk's legal apologies had won the love and happiness of the American people. He also believed that Congress was holding up the confirmation of new Attorney General Loretta Lynch because they were uncertain she could give DOJ as much love and happiness as somebody like Atticus Hawk.
But the real problem was the withdrawal symptoms when he was no longer in Barbie's company: rather than confirm in his mind that he could only be happy in her presence, the withdrawal would make him tired, irritable, and prone to nightmares about her. And so it was that he put the basketball game on, but quickly fell asleep on the couch and started dreaming about Barbie: she was smiling at him, then frowning at him, then making apple strudel laced with shaving cream and furniture polish, then speaking German to a band of German cockroaches standing in perfect soldier formation in front of his refrigerator, then burning the U.S. Constitution and saying it needed to be replaced by the Fourth Reich, then begging him to compete on "The Amazing Race" with her so that she could prove her genetic excellence, then humming "Blurred Lines" while conducting her CIA torture sessions at the secret bunker beneath the Washington Times headquarters, then slicing up her beloved pet Mega Moo for steaks because she was too old to live--
Hawk awoke with a start, panting heavily. He had toppled the television over in his sleep, but there was still a basketball game playing sideways.
Back in Virginia, Wince was dreaming of marrying Bridezilla but, unlike the last time they were engaged, Bridezilla was in absolutely no hurry to set a date this time.
"The cherry blossoms will be out soon!" he said, handing her another Mimosa to top off her baked French toast. He had not heard her say one word about spring, had not seen her look at one bridal magazine, had not caught her looking at any bridal websites. "I understand why we kept the engagement secret at the beginning, but it's been ten months now." She looked at him in alarm. "Don't you think we should set a date and announce our engagement now?"
"I didn't realize it had been ten months," she said quietly, which, of course, was a lie since they had gotten engaged immediately after the memorably violent gun attack which interrupted the May 2014 wedding planned with Buddy Lee Trickham.
"Well, it has!" smiled Wince. "I left the Supreme Court, I'm an associate at a law firm now, and we can plan our future, right?"
The truth was, Bridezilla could not bear to see a wedding announcement that she, a junior partner, was marrying a mere associate! She had attempted to draft that wedding announcement dozens of times, but it simply looked as if he had been demoted to incredibly boring work after leaving his long clerkship. He should be doing more! Not to mention the fact that he was working at a rival law firm. "The truth is," said Bridezilla, "I'm not sure you really feel settled into your new life."
"I do!" exclaimed Wince.
"I just don't want you to lose sight of your ambitions because of marital bliss. Maybe you should run for the Virginia House of Delegates while you're still fresh out of the Supreme Court? Wouldn't that be exciting?"
"What? Where did this come from?"
"We've talked about this before!" exclaimed Bridezilla.
"We haven't talked about this since law school!" he objected.
"Wince! That's what I mean! We have to hold onto those dreams!"
"Alright, alright, I'll do whatever you want!" he cried, and Bridezilla jumped for joy at her surprisingly easy victory.
"We can announce the engagement after you announce your candidacy!" she exclaimed, giving him a hug and a kiss. "We have to move quickly: the primary is in June! But don't worry--Prince and Prowling runs lots of PACs and SUPERPACs. And you're still young and handsome!"
"Gee, thanks."
Back in the city, two of those PAC directors were, in fact, secretly meeting at Prince and Prowling to discuss the GOP field for President.
"I just don't get any tingly feelings about any of these guys," sighed one.
"You want to love them?" asked former Senator Evermore Breadman, puzzled.
"Aw, I don't need to love them," said the other, "but I'd at least like to feel a little happy about somebody."
"Can we take a break from the Clown Circus and look at some of the more local elections for awhile?"
"Absolutely," said Breadman, who made money no matter where they flung their cash.
Out in the river, Ardua of the Potomac had some spring dreams of her own. She looked up at the tourists flocking like clockwork to the nonetheless non-blooming cherry blossoms, stretched herself to choose her next victim, then breathed a coronary arrest into a father of three from Iowa.
******************************************
COMING UP:
Glenn Michael Beckmann plans his attack on the White House Easter Egg Roll!
"I am in a large, beachside vacation home, dining on the veranda with Leonard Nimoy, who is wearing his 'Star Trek' Spock costume."
"He's dead!" protested Buckner.
"He's speaking to us from the Great Beyond!" exclaimed Melinda.
"A teenage boy is also dining with us," continued Brother Divine. "He finishes his meal, rises to leave, and says, 'See ya later, Spock.' Leonard gets very angry and tells the boy he is not Spock. I tell Leonard to stop being so hard on the boy, and that he shouldn't wear his Spock costume if he doesn't want to be called 'Spock.' Then Leonard picks up a knife and plunges it into his own heart!"
"What?!" cried Theresa, reaching for comfort from Millie, the enormous brown helping dog.
"Leonard falls to the ground dead," continued Brother Divine, "but in his place pops up a dragon to fight on his behalf!" (Social worker Hue Nguyen looked up in surprise from her crocheting.) "Then rocks are flying at us from every direction, and I run for cover into the house. Suddenly I hear a voice intoning, 'For every one percent that sacrifice themselves, ten percent of the innocent people will be saved!'"
"That's the stupidest story I ever heard!" exclaimed Larry.
"It's a prophecy!" cried Cedric, clutching Aloysius, his teddy bear. He looked around, expecting the ghost of CIA agent Henry Samuelson to appear and explain it.
"It's simply a metaphor," said the social worker, sternly. "Stabbing yourself is suicide. The dream is simply about making sacrifices for the greater good, but stabbing yourself in real life causes blood to shoot out, not a dragon!" The residents looked very disappointed. "Do you understand? Stabbing yourself will not help anybody!"
"Well, how else can you make sacrifices?" asked Melinda.
"You can wash the dishes when it's my turn," said Larry.
A few miles to the east, Angela de la Paz was babysitting Lucas Cigemeier, her birth child. She watched him fall asleep in his crib, then sat down in the rocking chair to close her eyes. Soon she met him in the Dreamtime, where his soul was a little older than it seemed on Earth. He asked her about the plane crash his parents had been discussing while the television was on, and she remembered that she had gone into labor with him right after seeing the Korean plane crash victims in the Dreamtime. She pondered this for a moment, then took him there. The souls were still in agony and confusion, but angels were slowly and carefully collecting them, to take them to Heaven. The pilot's soul was dark and twisted and guarded by a Chimera. She called for the help of her own mother, the grandmother of Lucas, and together they eased the Chimera away from the pilot as Lucas watched in amazement. "You are one now," said the grandmother, and Lucas nodded and accepted a kiss and an embrace.
Angela opened her eyes. She looked again at Lucas, who had fallen into a deep sleep now, his arm wrapped around the stuffed puma she had given him for his first birthday last Sunday. Angela shed a tear of sadness and joy.
A couple miles away, Barbie Bucephalus (fka Basia Karbusky, fka as Barbara Hellmeister) had recently left Justice Department attorney Atticus Hawk who, exhausted after a busy weekend with her, lay down for a nap. Barbie had successfully modified her Nazi grandfather's journal recipes so that the drugs could still evade security clearance drug tests without turning people into zombies, but the drug cocktail she was secretly using on Hawk was not ideal. While it did give him a false sense of happiness and love in his life, his rational mind was still capable of doubting that this came from Barbie. For instance, the recent (happy!) prosecution deal made with David (“Betray Us”) Petraeus had left Hawk with the delusion that Petraeus had signed the deal because he loved Atticus Hawk. Hawk had similarly come to the conclusion that public outcries over Guantanamo, the CIA Torture Report, and NSA spying had died down because Atticus Hawk's legal apologies had won the love and happiness of the American people. He also believed that Congress was holding up the confirmation of new Attorney General Loretta Lynch because they were uncertain she could give DOJ as much love and happiness as somebody like Atticus Hawk.
But the real problem was the withdrawal symptoms when he was no longer in Barbie's company: rather than confirm in his mind that he could only be happy in her presence, the withdrawal would make him tired, irritable, and prone to nightmares about her. And so it was that he put the basketball game on, but quickly fell asleep on the couch and started dreaming about Barbie: she was smiling at him, then frowning at him, then making apple strudel laced with shaving cream and furniture polish, then speaking German to a band of German cockroaches standing in perfect soldier formation in front of his refrigerator, then burning the U.S. Constitution and saying it needed to be replaced by the Fourth Reich, then begging him to compete on "The Amazing Race" with her so that she could prove her genetic excellence, then humming "Blurred Lines" while conducting her CIA torture sessions at the secret bunker beneath the Washington Times headquarters, then slicing up her beloved pet Mega Moo for steaks because she was too old to live--
Hawk awoke with a start, panting heavily. He had toppled the television over in his sleep, but there was still a basketball game playing sideways.
Back in Virginia, Wince was dreaming of marrying Bridezilla but, unlike the last time they were engaged, Bridezilla was in absolutely no hurry to set a date this time.
"The cherry blossoms will be out soon!" he said, handing her another Mimosa to top off her baked French toast. He had not heard her say one word about spring, had not seen her look at one bridal magazine, had not caught her looking at any bridal websites. "I understand why we kept the engagement secret at the beginning, but it's been ten months now." She looked at him in alarm. "Don't you think we should set a date and announce our engagement now?"
"I didn't realize it had been ten months," she said quietly, which, of course, was a lie since they had gotten engaged immediately after the memorably violent gun attack which interrupted the May 2014 wedding planned with Buddy Lee Trickham.
"Well, it has!" smiled Wince. "I left the Supreme Court, I'm an associate at a law firm now, and we can plan our future, right?"
The truth was, Bridezilla could not bear to see a wedding announcement that she, a junior partner, was marrying a mere associate! She had attempted to draft that wedding announcement dozens of times, but it simply looked as if he had been demoted to incredibly boring work after leaving his long clerkship. He should be doing more! Not to mention the fact that he was working at a rival law firm. "The truth is," said Bridezilla, "I'm not sure you really feel settled into your new life."
"I do!" exclaimed Wince.
"I just don't want you to lose sight of your ambitions because of marital bliss. Maybe you should run for the Virginia House of Delegates while you're still fresh out of the Supreme Court? Wouldn't that be exciting?"
"What? Where did this come from?"
"We've talked about this before!" exclaimed Bridezilla.
"We haven't talked about this since law school!" he objected.
"Wince! That's what I mean! We have to hold onto those dreams!"
"Alright, alright, I'll do whatever you want!" he cried, and Bridezilla jumped for joy at her surprisingly easy victory.
"We can announce the engagement after you announce your candidacy!" she exclaimed, giving him a hug and a kiss. "We have to move quickly: the primary is in June! But don't worry--Prince and Prowling runs lots of PACs and SUPERPACs. And you're still young and handsome!"
"Gee, thanks."
Back in the city, two of those PAC directors were, in fact, secretly meeting at Prince and Prowling to discuss the GOP field for President.
"I just don't get any tingly feelings about any of these guys," sighed one.
"You want to love them?" asked former Senator Evermore Breadman, puzzled.
"Aw, I don't need to love them," said the other, "but I'd at least like to feel a little happy about somebody."
"Can we take a break from the Clown Circus and look at some of the more local elections for awhile?"
"Absolutely," said Breadman, who made money no matter where they flung their cash.
Out in the river, Ardua of the Potomac had some spring dreams of her own. She looked up at the tourists flocking like clockwork to the nonetheless non-blooming cherry blossoms, stretched herself to choose her next victim, then breathed a coronary arrest into a father of three from Iowa.
******************************************
COMING UP:
Glenn Michael Beckmann plans his attack on the White House Easter Egg Roll!
posted by washingtonwaterwoman | 2:22 PM
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