Americans are dreamers too

Donald Trump is teaching Republicans how to fight by Michael Goodwin, New York Post.

Goodwin says, an observation so true it makes you wonder why you didn't think of it earlier. He cites the tax cuts, its opposition, the polls against it, and scare tactics from the left, and then its roaring immediate success. Then government shutdown over Dreamers being a huge defeat for Democrats. Then the decision by House Intelligence panel to write and release its memo.

This is not George Bush’s or John Boehner’s Republican Party. This is Trump’s GOP, as he demonstrated in spades in his first State of the Union address.

Goodwin describes Democrats in the gallery as the unhappiest people on earth.

That's Goodwin. His article is very good. Recommended.

I've been thinking a lot about what Trump had done with issues owned by the left used to put Republicans on the defensive. He takes the issues away from them and claims ownership for himself. And he doesn't care who he alienates.

I originally wrote, doesn't care who he pisses off. Because the original social issue owners are permanently pissed off. That's who they are. That is the air that they breath. That is what defines them. So why bother trying to make them happy? Trump just takes their issue.

Recently he took the issue of Jerusalem away from Palestinian activists and made it his own. Now the argument is changed to having to argue against the reality of Jerusalem the capitol of Israel.

He took away the issue of Dreamers from Schumer. Snapped it right out of his hands. Trump relied on Schumer's predictable rejection of any offer that isn't straight amnesty and citizenship with no trade on wall or on chain immigration. Now Trump owns the issue having offered a solution for Dreamers.

Trump took the manipulative emotional language of Dreamers away from Democrats with his incredibly simple observation.

I find it very interesting observing how Trump works. He has a unique jujitsu of using his opponents force against them. Having their own weight and momentum flip them into a tumble freaks them out so bad they behave wildly as he remains steady. A few little animated gifs that Trump re-tweeted of defeating CNN and another of hitting a golfball striking Hillary stumbling into her campaign plane sent his opponents out of their minds in rabid response causing them to damage themselves irreparably, while he went on with his work unbothered by their noise.

Trump gets the same result with his remark that Americans are dreamers too. The very trait that makes America more attractive to political dreamers than their family's country of origin. The organized group of political dreamers went out of their minds and Trump doesn't care. They are unlikely voters anyway. Even if or when Trump does allow a way to citizenship, as a group, they will not automatically be so grateful as to vote for him or his party. No, they'll credit Democrats for making it possible.

Okay, that's done.

But speaking of dreams, the real ones where you do this rapid eye movement thing along with beta brainwaves, or whatever. I have been dreaming like crazy lately. A whole bunch of them in the day and the night. They're splendid. I'm having a great time. But one in particular had me thinking about it for three days.

I'll describe what happened in Dreamland.

I had something to do downstairs, something urgent, something immediate, so I shot out of my apartment and went straight downstairs. The whole place is different. Much larger than in real life, more splendid architecturally, divided into parts, and more active as urban center of activity, more people coming and going dressed professionally with business on their minds, and more glass.

I didn't put on any pants. I'm in black microfiber t-shirt and boxer briefs, that look like one thing, like a 1930's swimming trunks. I look rather hot, actually. And I walk normally. I drop off an envelop in the office, that is better than the real office. The women mention I'm inappropriately dressed for public, but I don't care. This was important. And I'm still home, after all. Then here's the thing that gets me for three days.

A woman enters though large glass doors, she addresses me and walks right up to me. She is stylishly dressed in her own fashion style, low key, muted light brown colors and pattern, a jacket and printed silk scarf, new shoes and bag. She is elegant as women get. When she speaks I know who she is in real life.

I haven't thought of this woman in ages. At least twenty-five years.

I know her very well but for the life of me I cannot place her. She has a unique speech pattern, there is something uniquely dental in her enunciation. In the past I talked to her a great deal, and intimately, with nobody else at our table. We have very many discussions. Her observations, her jokes, her level of intellect, at the end of it all, she really isn't all that bright.

When I woke up I absolutely could not place her. My brain dredged her up from the past for me and nailed the recall precisely while my mind let her drift from conscious recall. I wracked my brains trying to place her. She is real. I can see us sitting there talking. We enjoyed each other quite a lot, but she was not part of the usual people I had lunch with. Finally, based on her dress and on her conservative manner, I recalled she was at the Federal Reserve Bank but I cannot recall any more than that. Only the cafeteria scenes. I haven't a clue which department she worked, in fact, I cannot even visualize her working at all. I go through each department in my mind and I cannot place her. At last I settle on which department is must be, but not because I recall seeing her there in any of the physical departments. As if she just showed up for lunch.

And I am so pleased with this dream that takes me back to those elegant women and professional men. That really was a good place to work for so long. My one real job. Although I didn't fit in the way that they do, they were very good for me, and I was good for them. A round peg set into a square hole. It worked out very comfortably and very well. I'm saddened the likes of this woman slip from the memory of daily recall. While delighted that dreams bring them back so finely detailed. It didn't bother her one single bit that she was dressed to the nines and I am barefooted and near naked. She didn't even think it unusual and nothing was lost between us. We picked up right where we left off.