Last night I dreamt that I couldn’t remember my combination. To my locker from high school. I couldn’t even find my locker, but I knew, panicking, that when I did, I wouldn’t be able to open the door. My hands were full of books, and I had to pee. It was an actual traumatic nightmare. What the hell, brain? Why is my subconscious worrying about this? It’s as though my brain was attempting to convert the paranoia of Texas Governor Greg Abbott into something relatable in my world. The likelihood that I will need to get into my locker at my old high school is approximately the same as the probability that Obama is planning a military takeover of the State of Texas. I mean really. It’s not just movie-plot preposterous, it’s actual dreamland ridiculous. To all of my friends in Texas (and I have several) I ask: What on earth is in the water down there?
Now, for the record, this locker combination panic dream is actually a reoccurring one for me and I tend to have it when I’m worrying about things I absolutely can’t control and about which my subconscious has apparently categorized as low spiritual priority. Basically, it’s the “stop fretting about nothing” dream. So, it really is a good metaphor for the current situation in Texas: the governor is fretting about nothing. Can we give him a helpful nickname? Arnie was the Governator; I think Abbott needs a moniker too. Maybe The Great White Dope? Let’s go with that.
The level of unwarranted panic on the part of the Dopeinator is off the chart. I don’t even know how to quantify it. I live in a world where the government is not out to get us. Yes, they’re totally effed up about a lot of stuff, and yes, there is a lot of corruption, and yes…well, suffice to say things aren’t perfect. But come on. Turning Wal-Marts into massive detention centers for disobedient Texans? Or whatever bat-poop scheme His Dopeness is accusing Obama of? That is an Orwellian level of paranoia. In fact, I think that is the scale I can use to quantify the crazy. On a scale of 1 to 10, I give the governor of Texas 9.9 Orwells. Also, I never give tens. I’m a tough grader.
NPR has reported that Texas governor might be pandering to the right wing crazies. Even Forbes.com is calling him a nut-job, and they’re not exactly a haven for leftist hippies. Fellow Texas politicians are using words like “idiot” and “horrified” and the governors of the six other states who are participating in the military training exercises are shaking their heads in confusion. I mean, there’s far right on the political map, and then there’s the "here there be dragons" part of the map. Abbott is worried about dragons. Didn’t he see The Hobbitt? You can’t kill a dragon with regular weapons. Duh.
I read the NPR article and I’m still not clear on the finer points of what Abbott's fear is. I think ISIS is involved somehow and immigrants from Mexico as well. There was something about the joint military forces and Green Berets running some black ops. This isn't even an X-Files episode level of conspiracy—we’re in Lone Gunmen spin-off land here people.
So, to my friends in Texas: don’t worry. I’m sure that Obama’s invasion plan has a strategy for airlifting all the liberal Texans out before the missile strikes. This includes all of the major universities and the entire city of Austin. Unfortunately, there may be some Democrats in the rural areas who get left behind. All of the fracking that’s been taking place in Texas is actually part of the preemptive strike: it’s weakened the ground to the point that the Chinooks can get giant nets around the entirety of Cowboy’s stadium and move it to Detroit to revitalize the automotive economy. (Obama is playing the long game, ladies and gentlemen.) You scoff, but I ask you: Is my plan any more ridiculous than what Governor Dopey thinks might be happening?
In summation, evacuate Texas while there’s time. If only I could find my locker—I think that’s where all the nukes are being kept. To the current occupant of #323: You’re on high alert.