I dreamt last night that I could fly.
I’ve only had flying dreams a few times in my life, and I remember the first one was in my teenage years. It felt so free, so unrestricted, so absolutely liberating that I was sad to wake up and find out I couldn’t actually fly.
So last night, in my dream, Noel, my brother Jeremy, another guy (who I can’t really remember who he was) and I were walking down a street in Auckland towards another group of shops when I thought, stuff this, I’m going to fly there.
And so I did.
It was so liberating. I was doing dips and flips and all sorts of things. Until Jeremy somehow got into trouble for something very unjust.
Now, as some of you may know, New Zealand is no longer the very free country it was when I got here. Helen and company have turned it into “Helengrad” or the “Nanny State”, and, to be honest, I hope there’s a change of government at the next (upcoming) election to get rid of the old lot.
(Do you know that under the oppressive and non-democratic Electoral Finance Bill, passed by Helen and co, I can only speak my piece like this in my blog? If I launched a Web site saying not to vote for them, or carried a placard down Colombo Street that I could be arrested if I don’t “register” my interest with the Electoral Commission? Isn’t the whole point of democracy to be able to express your opinion freely and without hindrance? That’s why this current government is dangerous and needs to be voted out.)
Anyway, the Helengrad police attacked Jeremy for no good reason. Noel and the other guy were trying to help, but were losing an uphill battle. And that’s where the flying powers came in handy.
I knocked the lead cop to the ground, and he was terrified. For some reason, I discovered I had telepathic and telekinetic powers as well (hey it’s my dream, I can have whatever superpowers I want!) so I held him down to the pavement with force, kept his eyes open and implanted the thought that Jeremy had done nothing wrong. I also implanted the thought that what was happening in this country was wrong and he, working from the inside, and his three colleagues would fight the injustices. My thoughts broke through because he called off his cronies.
Actually, as Noel, Jeremy and I were making our way back on our path, past the old abandoned toy store and a large store that sold dancing/jiggling Christmas trees (out of season), we noticed the cops were now so liberated that they were doing a conga line.
Well, at least the flying part was fun to experience!
Beam Me Up, Scotty 