Waking up angry

This is absurd. I think. Why did it have such profound emotional impact?

I had an unhappy dream and woke up angry. It took hours to recover from something that didn't happen.

It took that long to realize it simply is not relevant. I think.

Nothing relevant that's obvious.

In the dream a policeman stopped me and cited me. "For what?" I asked sharply. I didn't like this guy. He was predatory.

"For standing there when a woman closed her umbrella behind you. Here. I have you on tape allowing it."

The policeman showed me a recording of a woman closing her folding umbrella behind my back as I'm standing there innocently. It's fascinating, actually. The whole thing folds into itself from a hang glider size stretched fabric and tucks neatly into a black cloth cylinder with sturdy but exceedingly
thin metal bones like pterosaur wings except even better. Much tighter. All by itself. A very useful device. Brilliantly engineered.

"So?"

"That's illegal in Colorado."

"So? It must be an antique law, Stupid. But you know that. Some vestige. Probably. Something insanely stupid that you've taken up as real and valuable. Something that should be off the books."

"But it's on the books. And you are guilty."

"But that was a year ago!"

"I know. I waited until I saw you again. So now you're cited."

"You pounced. On something senseless. You are senseless. Have you nothing better to do than trap people with antique laws?"

I could pay the fine or go to court. I went to court to expose the predatory policing. I was fined even more for challenging and court costs. The whole thing was another scheme like property seizure maintained as income stream to the state. The judge was working with the police to grab money from innocent people using bizarre laws from which citizens have no protection. And that meant living in Colorado totally sucked because of their ridiculous laws and insane police and judges.

And I woke up angry about that.

But IRL there are no such laws that offend me so gravely. Colorado is actually lovely and supportive.

So my waking thoughts shifted immediately to arguments against Planned Parenthood to compensate for the absence of any real grievance. To allow the anger to crest and flow out of me.

And my argument against an imagined interlocutor was that I used to have a strong interest in Inca and Maya and other ancient Central American cultures because their pyramids matched somewhat with Egyptians, until I went there and climbed on them and learned of their blood lust.

The story about the massive sacrifice that left so many dead bodies rotting in the streets such that the whole city of Tenochtitlán at the center of present Mexico City had to be evacuated for weeks put me off Central American history permanently. The visual image of piles of sacrificed bodies is unthinkable. What horrible cultures. Especially Aztecs. And now my culture is even worse than those. As a modern civilization we insist on a veritable mountain of dead baby bodies. To our god of independence. And worse, they must be diced up and sold in pieces!

My culture actually profits from killing unborn babies.

That is our culture. Because of you. I'm re-imagining old arguments with individuals. There is a duality occurring in my mind. Because you want women to be allowed irresponsibility for their own actions. Irresponsibility for their lust. And you do this by creating your own language that changes genuine life to clusters of cells, even as those clusters in other circumstances are given transfusions, and heart surgery, operated upon inside the womb even quite early and even as photographs show them to be people with audible measurable heartbeats.

I became infuriated again recalling old arguments in which a girlfriend at the time argued U.S. must allow abortions because she is uniquely challenged to give birth. She told me she could die if forced to give birth. Therefore America must allow piles and piles of dead babies. Each year. Year upon year. And she told me this in the same way she told me to leave out garlic from our spaghetti sauce because she suffers heartburn from garlic. Henceforth, all garlic is banned. Because she is uniquely disabled. While abortions are demanded.

Then I think of the class of people for whom this service is performed and think further there just might be something there to your straight up eugenics. And then realize again there are people eager to take over the job of raising your unwanted children born with such poor genetic makeup as yours.

Living children precious when seen on video talking to Google trying to work out a bargain of intellectual exchange, the boy trying to get Google to agree to accept unique 4-year old boy-information for Google teaching the boy ABCs, and Google not understanding that's a proposal not an inquiry, and his father being so charmed by his boy he giggles in hiding and uploads what he sees to share the charm that he feels, and a little girl showing her two signs for native people actually teaching adults. Delightfully charming on sight. Gorgeous children when permitted to live and to thrive in love.

And all the previous argumentation comes back as discourse with the devil himself. That leaves me with two options, run from the devil or smash you across the face with a board.

So I stayed angry way after the dream evaporated to nothing rehashing something related only tangentially and not applying directly to me. Satisfied my culture really is rotten. Much worse than Incan and Mayan that killed only 50,000 at once for their god and not a mountain of dead babies each year as we do. Statistics so bad they cannot even be stated in absolute terms, rather, percentages of live births are given instead to ease the pain of reading them.

All that because of a dream about a woman closing a folding umbrella. By law I am not permitted to allow that intriguing technological tightening into a tidy package of black fabric and excellent thin bones to occur behind my back.