Broadway and 42nd St. and the squash

Broadway and 42nd St. and the squash

A New Year(s) story

by Jon Rappoport

January 7, 2014


Sigmund Freud had a dream:

One spring morning, thousands of people who were standing at the corner of Broadway and 42nd St. saw a country road leading out from the third floor of a boarded-up brick building.

The road headed north. It seemed to enter other buildings and it definitely wound its way through the air. A deserted country road, full of promise and hope.

The thousands of people pointed; and then they started screaming.

When the police arrived on the scene, they encountered a giant yellow squash sitting in the intersection of Broadway and 42nd. The squash was about ten feet tall.

It said, “I am Leo Tolstoy. I’m writing a novel called War and Peace. This doesn’t look like my study. Please quiet down. I need to concentrate.”

Federal agents soon showed up. They sprayed the crowd with sleep gas, called in a huge truck and crane, lifted the Tolstoy squash and moved away to an unknown destination.

Sigmund Freud awoke in his bed. He wrote down the dream. He trudged into the kitchen and made himself a cup of coffee.

“Psychoanalysis is ridiculous,” he said. “That dream…I could reduce it to fit my theory, but the attempt would be such a patent fraud, I’d be laughed out of my profession.”

Later that morning, Freud sat down at his desk, picked up a pencil, and began drawing in his notebook.

Strange things emerged. Rabbits with large hats. Lamps with human legs. An unbalanced snowflake. A machine with a human face. A carousel, in which horses rode wooden humans. A road in the sky.

Four years later, the former psychology researcher attained some notice in Vienna and Paris galleries.

Psychoanalysis never happened. Freud’s nephew, Edward Bernays, who had been scribbling notes about an idea he called “public relations,” showed an interest in his uncle’s drawings and paintings, and launched a career as an art critic.

With the death of the newly formed discipline called “mental science,” metaphysics made a comeback. Hundreds, thousands of authors appeared, presenting their highly organized views of the “reality behind reality.”

It was a fad for a decade, and it, too, faded away.

Leo Tolstoy never finished War and Peace. Instead, he opened a roadside farm stand and sold giant squashes, which he’d perfected on his small piece of land.

Apparently, Tolstoy’s seeds found their way into dozens of countries, and in the early 1950s they were regularly growing to the size of skyscrapers. They were declared a global health menace.

Faces began appearing in the squashes. Hitler. Stalin. Roosevelt. John D Rockefeller. Allen Dulles. And other unknown faces, which were, many years later, identified from photos taken at the time: Bill Clinton, George W Bush, Freddie H Dust.

In the fall of 2036, Mr. Dust produced four tons of gold in his private lab in Biloxi. His starter-material was squash.

Before he could be stopped, he released his formula and procedures, and gold flooded the planet.

The President of the United States, Martha Greenspan, brushed off the problem: “Who needs gold?” she said. “We have credit cards.”

Three days later, while napping in her study, she had a dream. A man named Sigmund Freud appeared to her. He said, “I started all this. It’s my fault.”

When she woke up, she assigned an aide to research Freud. When she was told he’d been a minor surrealist painter, she commanded her Secretary of the Treasury, Monica Lewinsky, to purchase every painting and drawing the man had ever produced.

A year later, the President owned all of Freud’s works, which she hung in the Corcoran Gallery in Washington.

At the gala opening, she told the assembled throng, “I have an intuition about Mr. Freud. I believe he changed history. I don’t know how, but I’m putting the full force and might of the US government at my disposal, in order to unearth the truth…”

This proclamation resulted in four wars, the most famous of which was the Vienna Invasion, during which the US unveiled new “vibrational weapons.”

Owing to unforeseen effects, the planet was taken back to 2015. Scholars continue to debate which 2015 that was.

Happy New Year.

Jon Rappoport

The author of three explosive collections, THE MATRIX REVEALED, EXIT FROM THE MATRIX, and POWER OUTSIDE THE MATRIX, Jon was a candidate for a US Congressional seat in the 29th District of California. He maintains a consulting practice for private clients, the purpose of which is the expansion of personal creative power. Nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, he has worked as an investigative reporter for 30 years, writing articles on politics, medicine, and health for CBS Healthwatch, LA Weekly, Spin Magazine, Stern, and other newspapers and magazines in the US and Europe. Jon has delivered lectures and seminars on global politics, health, logic, and creative power to audiences around the world. You can sign up for his free emails at or OutsideTheRealityMachine.

6 comments on “Broadway and 42nd St. and the squash

  1. Michael Burns says:

    Hah ha…I laughed. Name dropper wow…Martha Greenspan, Monica Lewinsky as secretary of the treasury too funny Jon. The trouble is this shit coming true.
    Yeah… which 2015
    I liked the image of horses riding wooden humans…hilarious.

  2. From Québec says:

    Let’s read this brilliant and hilarious imaginary story with the perspective of logic and see what comes out of it, Just for the sake of it or just for fun:


    If Martin Luther King. John Kennedy or Mahatma Ghandi faces, would have appeared in the squashes, instead of these warmongers, the outcome would have been very different.

    But hey! What to expect from a guy who was trying to write a book about War and Peace?

    When Freud had his dream, Tolstoy, probably just had the time to write about the first part of his book: “War” .

    I guess the Feds ignored his demand to quiet down and to let him concentrate on the second part of his book “Peace”.

    He clearly said: “that doesn’t look like my study” . He was right. Freud had it all wrong again.

    Anyway, the Federal agents took the ten feet tall squash away to an unknown location. Surely to the CIA Mind Control Agency (Project MKUltra) or to DARPA… or to both.

    These agencies were puzzled with the huge squash and its possible potential. Their imagination were running wild, but nothing worth was coming out of it..

    Time went by.

    When Tolstoy became a farmer raising squashes, he must have had already figured out that ” War is the health of the state” . Which would explain why warmongers appeared on his squashes and why Mr Dust had the idea of using them as prime material for production of gold. After all: More Gold for the Feds, more Wars he thought. And more wars, more gold. I must find a way to stop that before the they figure it out.

    So Mr Dust, flooded the planet with gold. The Feds panicked.

    They rushed to Monsanto and ask them to modify all squash seeds, relieving them of their gold creating properties, so no more giant squashes could be grown from now on. Except for them of course. Monsanto was also asked to spray all existing squash lands to contaminate them with GMO gold free seeds and giant free sizes features.

    These actual giant squashes, were immediately declared a global health menace, because you cannot let the people have a prime ingredient to produce gold. Only the Elites can have wealth. But since they always want more than they need, they confiscated all the remaining giant squashes to make more gold for themselves and to make sure that ordinary citizens couldn’t have any.

    When President Martha Greenspan, who was probably a far related family member of Allan Greenspan, whit whom she didn’t agree with, declared that she couldn’t care less about gold, that she preferred plastic debt money, she decided to act on this. So following her dream about Freud, she asked Monica Lewinsky ( who was more than happy to have a decent serious role to play for once in her life), to recuperated all Freud’s artist production.

    Martha’s declaration at the gala opening, that Freud might have changed history, resulted in four wars which the Vienna invasion was the most famous.
    I believe it was a sort of commemoration of the city where the former psychology researcher first attained some notice. But, they probably had forgotten that Edward Berney was born in Vienna, because that might have stopped the invasion of the city. Edward Berny, the master of propaganda, was surely a friend of the feds.

    Darpa, who had by that time, developed several deadly “vibration weapons” had no clue whatsoever, that their criminal inventions would turned the Universe backwards. Or maybe they knew it, and thought that it would be good to come back on Earth once again. A sort of a forced reincarnation strategy.

    “Owing to unforeseen effects, the planet was taken back to 2015. Scholars continue to debate which 2015 that was”.

    I hope that it is not this present 2015, where Obama, the Nobel Peace Prize Winner, who already started eight wars, would be more than proud to start some new ones… especially a thermo nuclear one with Putin.

    Forget Freud. Forget also about Telstoy. Just watch out for Obama!



    I just wished that I could write better English. I never found a good translation from French to English on the web. But your story kept me awake and since I couldn’t sleep, I got up and wrote that text a bit in a hurray so I could finally go back to sleep …lol

  3. From Québec says:

    Oops! What was I thinking? I forgot the most important reason for this incredible piece that Jon wrote:

    Happy New Year everyone!

  4. Michael Burns says:

    In the midst of their desperate existentialism humans hang on to things, rather than face the vast nakedness, naked..institutions are Balkanized, sterilized against any possibility of real growth, and for that fact any original idea at aĺl.
    The pioneer thinkers have did well and entrenched their beliefs.
    The whole is forfeited over the sum of the parts. Synergy in reverse.
    Everybody knows a little bit about one thing.
    This has caused a fracture in our psyche. A mirrored effect, we don’t feel whole, we feel dysfunctional. Except for that one thing, that we hang on to like a life raft in this dark sea we ride on… Internally we are all at ill ease…even when we know intellectually that we are right. We are wrong because…there is that splinter! The shard. The doubt that is introduces into a garden at a early age. Stopping us from becoming what we know we are truly, perfected, immortal, genius…we only get glimpses of Omnipotence..a false modesty serves as the reason, in the way of being great…

    I use to have this thought as a young boy of about seven or eight, that I was the last human on the planet. Some devastation had happened it’s irrelevant to the tale. Anyway…I was found by benevolent ET and they wished to help me. Sincerely help me. Since I was child and they didn’t know what I was supposed to become, they knew nothing of my world history, culture, institutions. Even my species. So they put this world together for me, problem is they read the history books and medical books, science books, religious books. And even though their intent was for the good and my well being. They got reality all fucked up. And the time period they set for me to live, is the worst possible place anyone could be. It is in the few years before the devastation that cause me to be totally alone on this planet in the first place. But they did leave crumbs of real knowledge on what I am, the true wisdom, along the way. Being astute, it was a failsafe in case they were wrong.

    We talk, we communicate, we marry, have children. Live in communities and get involved. But really we are the only human being on planet earth. They got it all reality fucked up, and we have to look for the crumbs of real knowledge along the way. And they are well hidden…the crumbs.

  5. From Québec says:

    I like your style of writing Micheal, it’s beautiful.

    It reminds me of my favorite song writer of all times, who wrote a song about the things you have just mentionned above. He understood what you are saying


    Kris Kristofferson – Shipwrecked in the eighties (Breakthrough, 1989) .

  6. Michael Burns says:

    Thanks for the compliment… Kristofferson wrote a lot good songs, I haven’t heard this one though…

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