Mike Adams
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I had a dream that I was invited to give a speech on feminism at The University of Massachusetts-Amherst. And in the dream I accepted the offer, largely because I wanted the money to buy another gun.

And in my dream I arrived at the airport in Hartford, Connecticut. The students who picked me up to take me to Amherst told stories of radical groups bent on destroying America - starting with an assault on the First Amendment at Planet U-MASS.

The groups, I was told, would follow the Republicans to every conservative event and disrupt their First Amendment activity. They would stand in front of tables - where the Republicans were doing nothing more than collecting donations for disabled veterans – and shout at them. They would call them “war mongers” and “racists” and chant in unison.

And in my dream I arrived at the student union to give my speech. Immediately, I saw droves of gay students marching by wearing dresses. They were arriving to protest my appearance. Others wore black masks and marched in unison - much like the Hitler Youth in Nazi Germany. Still others wore the communist Red Star upon an outer garment.

And in my dream I walked into the room some twenty minutes before my speech was to begin. But I could not stay. The stench of body odor was too great for me to bear. But as I peeked in, I saw the young “men” dressed in drag as they performed their little dance to protest my speech.

When the speech began, I told a story about a racist who referred to blacks as “coons.” Though condemning racism, the radicals and self-described communists began to hiss and interrupt my speech. And when I condemned a racist and segregationist governor of Mississippi, I asked the audience whether they would join in the condemnation instead of exercising the “tolerance” they spoke about so frequently. But rather than raise their hands, they started shouting me down. I was convinced it was only a dream.

When I spoke of a drug raid – one I participated in nine years before - members of the audience booed and asked whether I had ever smoked pot in high school. I suggested that if they allowed me to finish a sentence, they might determine that I shared some of their libertarian beliefs on the drug war.

But then a young radical shouted “We aren’t libertarians!” She didn’t know how to use the terms “libertarian perspective” and the “Libertarian party affiliation.” Nor did she know how to use soap or deodorant.

In my dream, a Muslim student seated in the rear of the auditorium shouted “you’re an asshole” and left the speech without giving a reason for his anger. At another point in the dream, the subject of homosexuality was broached. A student shouted “Jesus was a bisexual, read the Gnostic Gospels!” I still thought that it was merely a dream.

While the constant shouting and disruptions in my dream were too numerous to count – more than all of my previous speeches combined – the ones concerning abortion were too barbaric to ignore. When I mentioned that some time in 2007 there will have been fifty-one million abortions since Roe, the audience erupted in applause. When I said that around that time nearly seventeen million victims of abortion will have been black, a man shouted “good!” And in my dream I called him a “racist barbarian” to which he merely responded “so are you.”

In my dream, I started the “Q & A” session by asking the audience a question of my own: “Why does Planned Parenthood seem to have an office in every black neighborhood in America.”

The answer, of course, has much to do with the racism of Margaret Sanger – a bigot who believed in the removal of “human weeds” from our society. She was a eugenicist much like this other guy named Hitler.

I never got an answer to that question in my dream. Before I knew it, an avowed communist had taken over the microphone. He never asked a question. He just shouted and pumped his fists saying something about a communist revolution. He mentioned “war and conquest for oil” in between hurling accusations of racism.

When a physical altercation broke out, I slipped out the back door between two body guards. After the microphone was reclaimed, they were about to resume the Q&A. But, in my dream, the speech was over.

I could hear the chanting of “racist, sexist, anti-gay; right-wing bigots go away” as I walked down the hall away from the room. Later, when I woke up in the Lord Jeffery Inn, I realized that it had not been a dream.

I was in Amherst, Massachusetts – a place somewhere in America. Or so they say.

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Mike Adams

Mike Adams is a criminology professor at the University of North Carolina Wilmington and author of Letters to a Young Progressive: How To Avoid Wasting Your Life Protesting Things You Don't Understand.