Waking up wet...

2017, Sunday the 22nd of January.  While in America the first signs of Government censorship emerge, some European racist nationalists put their the heads together at an international level in Koblenz. Yeah sure, nationalists working together, like some sort of EU Conference for people like Wilders, Le Pen and Petry.  Exporting racism and other filth with which they want to conquer the world, is still possible with open borders.  Once the walls are build, the barbed wire and land mines around their cultural values are placed, the cannons on the border aimed towards the surrounding countries and the European Union is dismantled, all they can be is enemies.  Nationalists don’t like outside influences, but because they have large numbers of Brown Boots on the march in Germany and the Dutch Prime-Minister Wilders insists that the manufacturing of the barbed wire and the production of half moon sew on badges takes place in The Netherlands, the border has holes as big as Edammer cheese and the inevitable really becomes unavoidable.  While the Minister of interior purification, Bosma, welcomes them with two sheets, one being a listing of specialists of the NAM and on the other a group of highly educated people, placed under house arrest because of State security, with on the top the list the names of the former Chairman of Parliament and the Mayor of Rotterdam. The Aryans from the East however seem to have different priorities and are accompanied by a truck full of, Italian produced, yellow star sew on badges. In the meantime a Pastor, with Angolan roots, works himself in sweat on the ropes of the church bell and awakens me from a horrible nightmare.  It is Sunday morning, cold and foggy, gunshots sound through the valley, the church bell echoes, throbbing engines go on and off on the dirt track at the bottom of the Hill.  The hunters, the parish priest and the off-road enthusiasts are early today.  Fortunately, because who knows how many fear sweat I would lose staying in that dream.  I’m switching of the electric blanket, put the kettle on the fire, fuel the stove again, and see the puzzled look of our four-legged friend sitting behind her empty food bowl.  Is it summer? I quickly put on my bathrobe, such a naked sweaty man walking around in the kitchen confuses that fast growing puppy ....