By Patrick Grimm
Frank Sinatra sang these lyrics in 1954 on his watershed Capitol album “Swing Easy”:
When skies are cloudy and grey
They’re only grey for a day
So wrap your troubles in dreams
And dream your troubles away
Until that sunshine peeps through
There’s only one thing to do
Just wrap your troubles in dreams
And dream all your troubles away
Your castles may tumble (that’s fate after all)
Life’s really funny that way
No use to grumble, smile as they fall
Weren’t you king for a day?
Just remember that sunshine
Always follows the rain
So wrap your troubles in dreams
And dream your troubles away
Your castles may tumble (that’s fate after all)
Life’s really funny that way
But no need to grumble, smile as they fall
Weren’t you king for a day?
Just remember that sunshine
Always follows the rain
So wrap your troubles in dreams
And dream… dreeaaam your troubles away
These lyrics, taken on their face, sound more like the advice of a quack shrink, a head-case psychotherapist, a loopy “let go and let God” fundamentalist, a Joel Osteen run amuck or a self-medicating counselor on a Prozac bender than a cheery homily or a trite platitude. In truth, they are the words of a Jewish songwriter named Harry Barris, the uncle of game show guru, Chuck Barris, creator of such programs as the Gong Show. What is interesting about an old chestnut of a standard interpreted by probably the greatest popular singer who ever lived as he recorded the second in a series of albums which would unarguably be his high water mark as an artist? Why are these words featured on a site dealing with Jewish extremism?
Look beyond the Tony Robbins “turn lemons into lemonade”, glass half-full of Crown Royal sentiments and you basically have the attitude, the ideology of every Jewish overseer in America. The Ziogentsia has staked out a position of utter nonchalance regarding the rising anger, resentment and hostility they are creating in this country, mainly to fan the flames of anti-Jewish sentiments ever higher so that they can pick the pockets of wealthy Jewish “goer-alongs” still stoked and ardent against the rising tide of what the entry they have penned in Webster’s dictionary would define as “anti-Semitism.”
Harold Barris’ almost delusional Pollyanna lyrics, which could be seen as a “too bad-so sad” swipe at the Gentile majority, could also be read squarely as a bully who has snatched your lunch money and your new watch and who then gives you nothing but discomposure as he snidely taunts “Grin and bear it!” I am not saying that Barris intended this catchy little rhapsody to be encoded with the message stating that one should literally grin like an idiot as one’s “castles may tumble” and one’s accumulated livelihood and treasures disintegrate like a mound of rubble. But the undertone is present nonetheless, or maybe I just enjoy dissecting the mundane a little too much.
“Weren’t you king for a day?” Barris asks pointedly and Sinatra croons as smooth as a spool of silken cloth. Yes, we were kings once, for a day, if as the Bible says, a day is as a thousand years and a thousand years is as a day. The great white colossus, the great European man once was king, lord of his own house. Yet “that’s fate after all” could mean that all great empires fall in eventuality (they do and have) or that an inside force, an alien cadre helps and hurries their collapse, their implosion from within the gates and in the dark of night as the Jewish Fifth Column has struggled to do, smothering economies and producing wars for the profiteers in their ranks. Cicero crystal ball par excellence.
Oh, but there’s “no use to grumble, smile as they fall” Barris writes out, and the Chairman of the Board almost makes us inhabit the line, no matter how unlikely, with our emotions as he was wont to do with his staccato phrasing and rich tone, vibrato-riddled with pin-point artistry and vocal majesty. No, we should “smile” as everything we have constructed transforms to naught, thanks to Big Jewry’s juiced up political machinery. “Grin, Goyim, grin, or we will end you! You better fleck on that Cheshire cat, canary-down-the-gullet, briar-loving mule grin or it’s going to be curtains!” all the hosts of hellish Judaism salvo out in sync. “You better learn how to kneel and say goodbye to anything but the monochrome monstrosity we have made of your once comely earth! Your sons and daughters will worship us, and you won’t even grimace as they bend to ‘Manifest Destiny’! You aren’t even permitted that much! You will ‘smile as they fall’ before our feet! Your offspring, your institutions and your futures are ours, sunshine be damned!”
Oh, but if the Gentile notices the “rain” brought by Jewish enslavement, a nice sunny picture will be painted of the whole thing, like a fake background in an old Western television series that only mimics the look of a spanning prairie, but really only ends at a cardboard wall oil-colored up by a Bob Ross look-a-like, a red diaper baby Jew who’s actually pretty good with the shading on the canvas. It’s the Jew Tube, baby! It’s the “bread and the circuses” and the anesthetizing noise.
The Goyim cattle are lowing and the poor knaves awake, the little hoards’ exegesis, yes, they might see the snake. But this can be remedied. Our “troubles” and our disquieted hearts are to be “wrapped in dreams.” Then like a little robot you are to be programmed to “dream your troubles away” meaning you are to be filled with fantasies, shot up with lies and drugs and anything necessary to prevent you from seeing the predicament you are in. The Jews might even ship some Ecstasy out of Israel (postage due, of course) to do the job.
Even if your eyes are not blurred by the falsities and the “dreams” of TV, the kaleidoscope of mass Jewish media and the taunts and threats that follow when your thought train falls off the Jewish track, it matters not. Your own vanity or lack thereof can be played against you, your own brain will be swayed by years of programming to rebound into self-doubt, into the tried-and-untrue mores of a Judaization session assuring you that you are very, very sick, at least in a Freudian sense, for even considering the ideas you are piecemeal picking up, sometimes from lack of total blindness, sometimes from the osmosis of the vibe of Jew overreach and overkill medially (and media-ly) speaking. It’s interesting, isn’t it?
Now I may be the only political dissident deconstructing Jewish-composed standards and using the Great American Songbook as ideological hay, but whether Harry Barris put together “Wrap Your Troubles In Dreams (And Dream Your Troubles Away) as a silly, sardonic song of light-hearted buoyancy or an encrypted broadside against the Gentile Middle American majority, it makes little difference. Burrowing into what could be seen by most as the mundane is an intellectual exercise that is always worth the effort expended. It’s as satisfying as ummm, say, promising yourself to “look for the silver lining, when e’er a cloud appears in the blue. Remember somewhere the sun is shining, and so the right thing to do, is make it shine for you.” Friend, may your own intellectual journey be as joyful and eventful as mine has been.
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