Nightmares Minus Fairy Tales Plus Common Sense = Dreaming Out Loud
or, I woke up in the Real World, but at least in my dream I could still see the world for what it is
[credit: istockphoto.com]
The other morning I woke up from a startling dream — one I won’t soon, if ever, forget.
But let’s back up.
As I awoke, I began remembering that things weren’t always so good.
I remembered that, sometime in the not-too-distant past, people weren’t as nice, life had been much more constricted, and the majority of human interactions involved dancing around the truth. Actually, to say, “dancing around the truth,” was dancing around the truth. More accurate would be to declare that, in that not-too-distant past that had been our past for perhaps all of my lifetime, only the very young or naive spent any significant time unhypnotized by an entire set of falsities we collectively embraced and enforced upon each other. Deviation from those false notions was verboten and considered worthy of tremendous punishment. To question the validity of the collectively-enforced narrative was so thoroughly assimilated into our character that even the rebellious among us tended to only color outside the lines to partial degrees and only in one or perhaps a handful of subject-matter realms. Otherwise, each of us — even the rebellious — smothered our clarity in the soft, comfortable fog of safe conformity. When we weren’t virtue signaling, we might be challenging something along the fringes of the collective vision — dividing into camps that made us all members of the Uniparty, thinking we were on Team A or Team B because we had differing opinions on gender fluidity or carbon recycling or family size — but in the main we were privately ensuring that we all fit in with each other, keeping our individual and collective mouths shut when we noticed chinks in The Way It Is.
But let’s back up just a little bit further.
That not-too-distant past was both The Way It Is the moment before my dream began . . . and The Way It Is ever since the moment when I woke from that same dream.
Near the dream’s end, a woman was sitting in my lap. Nowhere present was any hint of anything but mutual respect — mutual respect that didn’t foolishly demand that our respect be equal or identical; in fact, it went without saying in my dream that it was not only impossible for men and women to be equitable but that we were blessed by the distinctions between us — blessed to the point of celebrating them instead of battling against them — or pretending they didn’t exist.
[credit: istockphoto.com]
In the midst of that particular bliss, awareness of context began to assert itself. The woman in my lap asked me if I remembered back when it had seemed like mass hysteria might be upon us in the form of increasing numbers of people — mostly women, and mostly minors — undergoing hormone replacement and ‘gender-affirming’ surgeries to change their sex from male to female and vice versa. Oh, yes, I remembered, but being a dream I didn’t remark aloud but instead communicated telepathically what the Source of my dream was awakening in my thoughts: a large portion of our world had come under the grip of believing that individuals can successfully alter what God and biology had put in place in their bodies, and that was just one of the more recent fairy tales to be treated as Gospel Truth.
Transgenderism didn’t emerge out of the ether. It was just the next block on the Blockhead pile, dependent like each of the other misshapen ‘building’ blocks beneath it on acceptance of the ridiculousness of the previous menagerie of fairy tales that have been straining our brains to portray them as possessing legitimacy.
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Transgenderism was/is wholly dependent on believing that being a superpower female who can fight off 8 male attackers is groundedly legitimate (which is why transgenderism has morphed from being a practice previously associated with an insignificant number of males into a visible trend among females) — as if, just because we desire to empower women to somehow flip the tables on so-called female disempowerment, we can somehow erase the fact that women never have possessed and never will possess the upper body strength, willingness to endure pain over lengthy periods, natural inclination towards survival at all costs even at one’s own expense, or even the drive to strive for those traits.
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Believing in the ubiquity of female superheroes was/is wholly dependent on treating self-identification as legitimate — as if, just because the way we program ourselves is to a significant extent a self-fulfilling prophecy, we can somehow turn ourselves into anything we want to be.
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Self-professed identification was/is wholly dependent on treating ‘manifestation’ as legitimate — as if we are all gods who can just speak things into being.
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Manifestation was/is wholly dependent on treating women displacing men in the workplace as legitimate — as if the most dangerous, the most innovative or even the most difficult work roles held by men were ever going to be sought out by women.
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The legitimacy of women displacing men in the workplace was/is wholly dependent on women being freed from the responsibility to bear and raise children — as if reproduction weren’t one of only two things on which men and women are interdependent.
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The legitimacy of women being freed from the responsibility to bear and raise children was/is dependent on treating widespread access to abortion as legitimate just because generally it’s more convenient for women and divorces them from personal accountability — as if (a) women could be divorced from their biology, or (b) killing a developing fetus isn’t murder.
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Acceptance of abortion was/is wholly dependent on viewing women as perpetual victims of men as legitimate — as if women don’t make their own choices about how to act on their libidos, not to mention having to ignore the true statistics about domestic abuse, which clearly document that women initiate it far more often than do men.
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Viewing women as perpetual victims of men was/is wholly dependent on treating viewing women as soft, harmless vessels of innocent purity worthy only of pedestalization as legitimate — as if women were children who could only be tainted by men/beasts.
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Fairy tales, one and all.
Once the woman in my lap and I had discussed this, I realized I had to be dreaming.
Once awake but still in reverie, it became clear to me that the reverse mental pattern she and I had reviewed could also be applied in every realm of our existence:
Fairy tales no more real than imaginary unicorns we’re treating as if they’re solid objects.
Fairy tales about politics.
Taxing citizens based on their level of productivity was/is wholly dependent on treating socialism as legitimate — as if life is a zero-sum game within which the lazy deserve the same ‘fair’ share as the industrious.
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Etc.
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Fairy tales about religion.
Considering religions and their denominations as the highest form of spiritual expression was/is wholly dependent on treating man-made bureaucracy as legitimately preeminent — as if organizing clubs and their meeting places is akin to the works of our Creator.
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Etc.
Fairy tales about health.
Believing that the only solutions to physical challenges are surgery and artificial chemicals was/is wholly dependent on believing that experts who profit from surgery and pharmaceutical chemicals and would go out of business if we ever really became healthy instead of just-not-sick — as if those who would guide us toward outcomes that perpetuate healthy well-being must be our enemies.
Etc.
Fairy tales about recreational drugs.
Believing that alcohol, caffeine and Adderall are superior to marijuana, mushrooms and LSD was/is wholly dependent on treating depression, anxiety and stupification as more legitimate than enlightenment, euphoria or the healing of mental wounds — as if those low-sensation-seeking approval-seekers who make a living pretending to be looking out for our best interests aren’t just interested in preventing us from recognizing what they’re really up to.
Etc.
All of the above are fairy tales we collectively pretend are real. Not only are we voluntarily deluding ourselves, but we’re blind to the potential bliss that life could be if we’d just permanently divest ourselves of the fairy tales.
That accomplished divestment was the foundation of my dream. In it, artifice had disappeared — and, instead of the typically-predicted nightmare of societal erosion predicted by those who would be our overlords (and by all the female and male Karens), in its place was harmony of interwoven individuals playing parts consistent with the Design of our Creator, uninterrupted by those who would destroy that which they can’t fully control.
What I’m recognizing in the wake of a dream I wouldn’t mind going back to is that I need to augment my Masculinity Prescriptions (accessible here); in addition to standing tall, insisting on being ungovernable by undeserving self-appointed elitists, and refraining from rewarding women for delusionally believing they can possibly be independent from men — we also should demand of ourselves that we not only eliminate the perpetuation of fairy tales from our own vernacular but confront any such fairy tales when they’re promoted by others.
This won’t make one popular, but if one is hell-bent on popularity, maybe it is time to get what Rush Limbaugh used to refer to as a chop-a-dick-offa-me.