Regime Dreams

My first series of dreams last night was a jumbled series of vignettes with me as an American kulak being hunted and harassed by a tyrannical revolutionary American regime.  It was not completely unjustified from their perspective.  Though an extremely insignificant figure, I was a thought criminal and had done some mild activism in opposition.

My next series of dreams was a confused jumble of vignettes where I was a policeman and probably a secret policeman for an authoritarian right wing regime that was at time American, at times South American, and at times the management of some kind of big exclusive summer camp.  I kept dealing with this blonde handsome muscular educated smart privileged white young man who was full of rage and an activist and a thorn in my side.  I was generally quite good at my job and not oppressive any more than needed and when possible finding other solutions to potential dissent. But this guy had a firestorm of rage against authority and was just unreasonable by my lights.  I spent a lot of time trying to give him the benefit of my wise and somewhat cynical and world weary advice. Very knowing I was.  The secret policeman with a heart of gold but still after all a secret policeman committed to maintaining order.

Needless to say in both dreams I was the good guy and my opponents were bad people even though I as the good guy did not always feel hatred for them and had some measure of understanding.

This was almost more puzzling to me than my normal weird dreams.  What’s the message here, the old saw that where you stand depends on where you sit? That God loves the secret policeman and the activist alike? That it is all much of a muchness? That I have invincible self regard?

Even now that I am awake I have a regret that there seem to be no way to reach that kid.