MY NIGHTMARE

I woke up in a cold sweat, panting like an exhausted dog, gazing about the room as if reality would suddenly converge on me. Dimly remembered images from my dream assailed my conscious mind as I tried my hardest to disseminate one from the next.

For what seemed an eternity, I couldn't follow the barrage. Perhaps, I reasoned, I wasn't meant to. But then, slowly, deliberately, they became clearer and clearer. I knew now what I'd seen while sleeping and it caused a shiver that originated at the base of my feet and sent it all the way through the top of my head and into infinity's great expanse:

In my dream, Minister Faust had been Jesus. A shaved, Ethiopian looking Jesus whose smugness actually manifested itself as self-righteous wrath delivered upon the heads of all those he deemed unworthy. In his view, no one who wasn't being oppressed at the very moment he arrived fit this category. It didn't matter whether the oppressed people were violent or destructive or if they were using history to justify their behavior. One literally only had to fall under his oppressed category to avoid utter destruction.

I am awake now and aware that this was only a dream. But my purpose is renewed. Minister Faust is not Jesus. For all I know, Jesus may not even be Jesus. But I know one thing even more certainly than I did before: Minister Faust must be watched...

This is he:

And this is Jesus:

The resemblance is uncanny but do not be fooled!