Last Night I Had a Dream

I am on a riverbank on a bright hot day in Iraq. Small arms fire is hissing all around us and is soon followed by the shuddering whumph of incoming mortar rounds landing in our vicinity. I am with a group of people, some of whom are in uniform. And, absurdly, because this is a dream, I hear President Bystander in the background giving the Washington Happy Talk about, and I am not consciously making this up, economic explosion in Iraq. Meanwhile real explosions from the business end of Soviet era RPGs are making our lives, uh, interesting. We are told to get to the humvees for immediate evac’. Fine talc (from the Persian and Arabic talq, yeah I wiki’d it motherfuckahz, so?) sand thrown up into the air from the explosions settles on us as ash from a hundred little volcanoes as we make our retreat.

I am in the right rear seat of the lead humvee. Sitting next to me is James Carville. Sitting next to him is Senator Sam Brownback. In the front seat between two uniformed gentlemen is Senator Hillary Clinton. I turn to Carville on my left and his eyes are pale grey, wisps of white hair rest haphazardly on his skull like a halo. So I turn to Carville and say, ‘This is an utter and complete cataclysmic fiasco.’ Or words to that effect.

And Senator Clinton turns around from the front seat and says, “Shut up.”

I respond by nodding toward Carville and saying, “Bet you don’t tell him to shut up.” Carville and Brownback are silent and stoic as if in shock or some deep reverie.

Senator Clinton continues to glare at me as I begin to get emotional, “I am one of those 30 percent of the electorate that would eat broken glass for you.” I am, by now, weeping and in the midst of a soliloquy about American ideals and how even Brownback over there shares these notions that endow America and her people their nobility. But by now it’s ending, I sense that Carville and Brownback and Mrs. Clinton are sickened by my display. We ride on into the desert and an uncertain fate. I awake on the futon in the loft. Tired and ashamed.

Later in the morning I receive an email from a friend and he asks, “Is Hillary running?”

To which I now reply, “Is Colin Farrell stubbly”.

Maeve and the Dragon

High above the desert among the snowy peaks of the Skyfang Mountains Bahbwahda the ancient wizard sits cross-legged in front of a small lean-to shelter outside the gated mouth of a cave. A small campfire sends smoke like ribbon into the silver blue of the morning sky. The wizard, long white hair under a woolen cap and a white beard is preparing his morning tea. He lifts his lips from the steaming teacup, looks to the mouth of the cave with its iron gate securely fastened and resumes his quiet chanting in a language so old and from so far away that no one else alive still speaks it save him. His breaths form little puffs in the cold air. He stops chanting for a moment yawns extravagantly, says, “Oh, no”, as his chin slumps to his chest and he falls asleep for the first time in 1000 years. Just as he begins to snore the iron gate across the cave swings open with a noisy creak and a great roar rises from deep under the mountain.

Down east of the wizard in a still green mountain meadow Kenelee the shepherd girl wakes up from a restless night. She had tossed and turned for hours with strange dreams as the moon marched as silent witness across the black sky. She sits up suddenly and looks out at her flock of fluffy sheep over the rim of her sleeping bag, her dog Flinker barks furiously and tears off toward the flock. As he does so a great purple dragon blots out the rising sun and approaches the flock from the opposite direction and not even noticing Flinker’s furious barks and yowls swoops down to grab 2 sheep where he hovers for a moment and says to the girl, “Thank you for breakfast. I am Malegauth and I know the name of every star in the sky and every grain of sand in the deep desert bring me all the gold, silver and jewels in your village down below and I will not make you my supper tomorrow.” And he stretched his great leathery wings and swept into the morning sky.

Kenelee leaps out of her bedroll to help Flinker gather the flock back together and get them down to her village. Kenelee had never seen nor certainly spoken with a dragon before but as she calmly gathered her flock together she felt her mother and father would know what to do. On her way back she came upon the wizard asleep in his lean-to, and the great open mouth of the cave. On one post was a small scroll with a picture of the dragon and the iron gate under these pictures was written - -

Duatha naneen ashen boyahun
Breve natal kenshima mian
Ooeevi chibe trip dayahun
Stella dovenee maladagathian

Kenelee had no idea what it meant but she thought it might be important and brought it with her.

Now as it happened a young woman from the city had been staying in the village that week. Her name was Maeve. She was small and had black hair that fell to her shoulders, dark skin and clear green eyes and a thin nose that crinkled when she laughed, which was often. She was a teacher and a healer. Each autumn when the snows drew nearer and the days grew shorter she would visit the mountain village and bring medicine for the people and books and candy for the children to help them make it through long winters. Young Kenelee almost knocked her down as she ran into the village shouting warnings about a sheep-stealing purple dragon up in the high meadow.

Maeve followed Kenelee through the village to the girl’s home and listened intently as she told the story from earlier that morning. Flinker was still nervous and paced back and forth outside the sheep pen around back. As her parents began to scold her for telling fanciful stories and scaring the folk Kenelee pulled a glittering purple scale the size of a dinner plate but as hard as steel and light as a butterfly out of her bedroll and tossed it on the table. To Maeve she handed the scroll who regarded it with much interest. Maeve, who had been glancing up at the sky often as the young girl told her story, picked up the scale and felt how light it was. She tucked it and the scroll into her cloak .When Kenelee finished her tale her parents sat her down and coaxed into her a hardy breakfast of warm cereal and milk and the last of the fresh summer fruit. Maeve stepped outside and glanced at the village. She knew she had to get back to her city, Celestian, and speak to the Council of Nine and her brothers and sister. Just then a group of boys ran by kicking and chasing a leather ball, Maeve leaned down and grabbed one of the boys and told him to ring the silver meeting bell in the center of the village she had something to say.

A few minutes later Maeve stood in her maroon velvet robes and told the people of Kenelee’s village to gather up only what they needed she was taking them back to the city with her – the old and the sick could ride in her wagons. While the teacher admitted to them that she knew very little of dragons having never seen one, she feared the worst and feared for these people who had little gold, silver or jewels to satisfy the dragon’s greed and no weapons at all with which to defend themselves. The city was a two-day ride and while it might be dangerous to be in the open desert at night with a hungry dragon about, leaving these people behind would be much worse. There was grumbling among the villagers and some who didn’t believe the story, but they trusted Maeve and off they all went.

Two nights later Maeve and the villagers arrive at the great city of Celestian, which was once in fact 2 small towns separated by the broad deep river to the sea. Once these two towns almost made war upon one another but a small girl and her friends and a silver horn stopped all that as they stood on the bridge over the river. But that is a story for another time.

The city was in chaos – Malegauth had beaten them there. He had taken cattle, demanded gold and silver and jewels and burned fields as he went. Maeve headed straight to the guild hall where the Council of the Nine would be meeting and found her brothers and sister there as well. The Council governed the city and represented the guilds and communities within the city and all had a voice here. Maeve and her brothers were its four guardians: Hatahn of Shield and Spear, the oldest son of Porthios the last king of Celestian; Buteo, which means Broadwing of the Ax; and, Anavise brave huntress of Bow and Arrow; and Maeve herself whose name means Bringer of Song, contributed knowledge and wisdom to the defense of the city.

Hatahn addressed the Council as Maeve entered the Great Guild Hall and assured them that he and the other guardians would defeat this dragon and return the city to its peace and prosperity. The Council for its part decided to string the dragon along and try to satisfy it with cheap trinkets and glass beads that they would offer if the Guardians were defeated.

And defeated they were all in the course of one moonlit night outside the high sand scrubbed walls of the city – Hatahn was first to confront Malegauth.

Hatahn stood outside the gate and said to the great dragon before him, “Come Malegauth you and I have business and my spear will lay its justice upon you.”

Malegauth spreads his wings breathed fire into the air and spoke, “I know the name of every star in the night sky and the name of each grain of sand in the deep desert, and your weapons will fall upon my scales as rainwater falls on the mountainside.” And with one swing of his tail the dragon knocks Hatahn back through the city gate and into the stables.

Buteo strides forward and says to Malegauth, “ You malcontent of a lizard, come bring your pretty face to my ax”. Malegauth looked up into the sky, laughed a dark bitter laugh as he reached down and grabbed Buteo in one massive claw and hurled him back into the city, the shards of his ax flung at him.

Anavise got off three arrows toward the dragon before he stole her gold pendant and chased her back with the fire of his breath behind the city walls.

Now all this time Maeve had been in the city’s heart, its library, poring over old books looking for ways to banish a dragon. The lives of her family and all her people now depended on her to find a way to defeat this ancient menace. Looking at the scroll Maeve concentrated on volumes of dead languages and finds what she has been looking for, an old wizard’s handbook of spells, each spell in all the old tongues. She reads the scroll and finds its translation - -

No weapon can harm him
Nor strength avail
To banish the dragon
Tell him to Get Lost
And you will not fail

Maeve strides out of the library as the dragon awaits this time inside the gates. Celestian is quiet and the night is clear and cold. Many of the city residents have fled to the sea in fear hoping for passage on the ships in the harbor to take them far away with all that they have on their backs.

Maeve stands before the great dragon who regards her with bemusement. He roars and sends flames high into the night sky as if he could ignite the moon overhead.

Malegauth growls, “I know all the names of the stars in the night sky and the names of each grain of sand in the deep desert where no man has ever walked. Your weapons do not harm me and there is nothing I cannot do.”

Maeve swallows and nervously steps forward, “Great Malegauth there is in fact one thing you cannot do.”

Now dragons, as you may know, are much given to boasting, but they nonetheless have a sense of honor and never turn down a wager…so, “What is this thing you say I cannot do.”

If you cannot do it will you leave us alone forever?

Impossible, there is nothing I cannot do, insisted the dragon.

“Perhaps you are right Malegauth and I am a fool and soon to be your supper, but will you trouble us no more forever if I am correct.”

The dragon ever prideful spits out, “Agreed.”

Maeve, for a moment becomes unsure of herself and the dragon sensing this puffs out his purple scaly chest and begins to spread his leathery wings, Maeve clears her throat and says just two words.”Get lost”

“Wha, what did you say to me,” roared the dragon as he lifts up into the sky and hovers menacingly above a serene Maeve, slim hands clasped at her waist in front of her. She knew she had won.

“Oh mighty dragon, you who know the name of every star in the sky and every grain of sand in the desert, you who have flown all over this great world and lived beneath it as well. I said, get lost. Find a place whereby you cannot find your way back, I say unto thee again. Get. Lost.

The dragon lifted his head toward the moon that had now climbed halfway up into the night sky and howled as if betrayed as in fact he was by his own pride and lit the sky with bright orange flame and in a flash of silver and green disappeared.

Those people left in the city and watching from the walls cheered as Maeve turned, weary from fear and the rush of confronting a dragon without benefit of sword or shield and walked slowly back into the warmth of a grateful people.


At the same moment the iron gate across the mouth of the cave swings shut and Bahbwahda wakes from his nap none the wiser.

A Toast and a Hope

May the blessings of liberty some day come to all people of good will around the world.

We who are governed by greedy, fearful, cynical men who govern not well at all and wish instead to rule over us and our heirs, may they fade into a disapproving history. And may our memories of their vile deeds and awkward speeches drift away as dusty dry autumn leaves give way to the snows of a harsh winter. Winter does not endure, spring will come and bring growth and the promise of long summer days of peace and serenity.

Hope has not yet departed this land. We are free and we seek to do right. We are no different than our brothers and sisters elsewhere in this world. We are all connected to one another as the earth is to the sun, the moon to the earth, the seas to the land, you to your family and thus to all families everywhere.