I had a dream last night that I was walking through an American history museum. As in dreams some things were in sharp relief others blurred, and uncertain.
It seems I'd slipped into a timeline in which the American Revolution failed. Completely failed, and Crown authority was restored.
Restored with a Bloody Vengeance.
I saw behind glass cases of this once removed history period illustrations of the "Patriot" leadership hanged, drawn, and quartered. Washington, Franklyn, Jefferson the whole lot. Publicly disemboweled to the cheers of the Loyalist crowds.
A grand painting of Philadelphia, home of Congress, being burned. The monuments of the fledgling Republic hauled down.
Mass bonfires of the Stars, and Stripes. Wagon loads of treasonous documents like the Articles of Confederation, drafts of the Constitution, and seditious books like Paine's "Common Sense" also cast into Royalist fires.
Remember though I was in a museum of the present day. The 2010 of this other history. The exhibits were as you would see in any museum. All of the blood, and horror was nearly 240 years past.
The flaming end of our Republic was presented in paintings, lithographs, and dioramas. All of which were professionally lit, tidy, and impersonally historic.
The impersonal distance of history. Do many dwell on the individuals depicted in illustrations of the Saint Bartholomew's Day massacre? How good it is to be centuries away from such matters.
However 'this' history was, at least for me, a nightmare.
Well partly.
I do remember that the King promised freedom to those Black Slaves that fought for him. That and an "eventual" ending of slavery in general.
Yeah right George I ain't holding my breath on that one.
If I had more control of this dream I would have looked for the historic painting of the Black Red Coats, and their family's getting their Freedom.
This assuming that the Crown didn't renege, and toss their loyal Nubians back into chains.
Btw from what I can remember the other patrons around me seemed like the usual suspects you'd see in any museum or art gallery.
Except,...
I did see some soldiers that were dressed in odd uniforms. It was regular G.I., but maroon in color, and with gold braid. A mix of 21st, and 18th century kit.
A strange, and interesting history.
It could have happened too. Just a few more stupid mistakes in the right places, and we'd be Crown Subjects.
...at least we'd have National Health.
Stay Tuned.
6 comments:
At least the British Empire rid itself of slavery a long time before the colonies did.
I don't think traitors got hung, drawn and quartered in the 1760's.
Just hung.
You were lucky tho', don't forget that poor old George III was as mad as a box of frogs and Lord North a fairly inept military commander.
Yes, the Good Old Brits abolished slavery in 1833.
But the Irish didn't get their freedom till 1921 - we were loyal slaves of the Empah for 900 years.
Re treatment of traitors: the British 'canonaded' the mutinous sepoys in the First Indian War of Independence (sorry - I meant to write 'Indian Mutiny'). Convicted mutineers were lashed to the muzzles of cannon and had a roundshot fired through their body - which was consequently blown to pieces.
And I thought Sidney was looking for some hopeful stuff to post...
You really have some interesting dreams, Sidney.
It seems Ireland has never been the same at least since St. Patrick drove away the wiggly reptiles, thereby imposing upon that beleaguered isle a most unnatural rectilinearity.
R.A. Wilson, who lived in Ireland for some years, had a good rap about what he termed "Irish facts," meaning a kind of alternate take on reality, or flexibly articulated variety of takes, whose net effect, according to Wilson, was to fuck with the heads of the occupiers.
Many years ago I heard a rebroadcast of the most popular program ever made by the founding branch of Sidney's place of employment. It was an interview of an elderly Irish lady who had long since migrated to the western seaboard of the United States. In her youth she had frequented the Giant's Causeway, finding it to be a magical place. She left with great regret, thinking she would never again experience such magic. To her amazement she did find another such place, in the very locale to which she had moved.
I should perhaps mention that when I say "magical place" I don't mean as in "Provence is a magical place, you simply must go there," or the like. I mean the lady said she was hearing choirs of angels and otherwise sensing the presence of preternatural spirits in those places. To pretend otherwise would be paltering with the truth.
Maybe she was batty as a belfry; maybe she was eating funny mushrooms; or maybe she heard angelic choirs audible only to those who know how to listen properly.
"Maybe logic" is a term coined by that disreputable Wilson character, who contrasted it with the more academically acceptable Aristotelian yes/no either/or logic that is reputedly the foundation of digital technology and so many other wonders of wonderful science.
Vivid dreams have been my blessing, and curse since childhood.
Though as a story teller it's a priceless aid to me.
As for the absolute of "yes" "no", 0,1, realm of Aristotelian digital reality. We must remember What the King of Siam said:
"When I was a boy
World was better spot.
What was so was so,
What was not was not.
Now I am a man;
World have changed a lot.
Some things nearly so,
Others nearly not."
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