Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Strange violence

Last night, I dreamed of a traffic jam.  The traffic jam was near some open sports fields; there were separate fields for football, soccer, and baseball, and in the middle of all of the specific sports fields was a large field that was a wide open space set up like a park (trees, paths, benches, nice scenery -- you get the idea).  Traffic was crawling, and tempers were getting heated, because in the traffic were guys who were supposed to be on those fields because they needed to be practicing with their respective teams.  One of the guys was a big burly guy who had his football gear on and he was really getting impatient.  He was laying on his horn and flashing his lights, which wasn't doing anything except upsetting the guy in front of him, who was a soccer player.  The football player attempted to pass the soccer player, but he was met with oncoming traffic and couldn't do so.  The soccer player rolled down his window and began shouting at the football player, shaking his fist and insulting him.  Tempers kept rising until both men were out of their vehicles, screaming at each other in the middle of the street.  One made the first move and a fight ensued.  This carried on across the lanes of traffic until they were fighting in the open field.

A bystander rushed out to try to separate the two of them, pleading with the two of them to stop fighting, make peace and get back in their cars.  The two men grabbed him and beat him until he was unconscious, and then kicked him while he was defenseless on the ground. While they were doing so, their religious affiliation became apparent, as they were calling on Allah for strength in their anger. Their tempers satiated, they both got back into their cars and drove off; the traffic has lightened up a little so that they could park their cars in the parking lot for the fields and they went to their respective practice fields.

A little while later, the man who had suffered the violence came to.  He was wobbly and barely able to sit up.  He tried a couple of times, but had been so violently assaulted that he either couldn't control his body due to the pain, possibly due to a concussion.  As he lay on the ground, trying to slowly put himself to rights, the soccer player happened to look over.  A cold look of malice ran over the soccer player's face, and he ran over to the hapless man and began bashing him on the head.  After about ten crashing blows, the soccer player ran back to his field; again, the poor man lay unconscious and what now appeared to be close to dead.

Newspapers flashed across my vision.  The innocent victim was a miracle survivor, but only just barely.  He had suffered concussions and broken bones, even a broken neck.  He was paralyzed from the neck down, and couldn't remember most of his life.  However, he remembered his name and things from his childhood.  He had been a faithful Muslim in his youth and had memorized the Qur'an.  The only thing he could do now was smile innocently as he had when he was a child and recite passages.

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It should be noted by anyone who does not know me that I am a Catholic, not a Muslim, and that this was just a dream, not a commentary on Islam.

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