In a creative writing class I once took the professor talked about The Ether and Collective Consciousness -- don't worry, she didn't talk that nonsense to the other paying students, only to me in a private conversation I cornered her into -- she told me that creative thoughts do float through the world and if we don't use them someone else will. "No Shit," I said -- which I thought might be the reason I got a C+ in that class, not my bad-ass gramma'.
This has happened so often with fiction it shouldn't be a shock to anyone:
*In his 1994 book "Debt of Honor," Tom Clancy describes a 9-11 type of incident pretty accurately.
*In Edgar Allen Poe's (be still my beating heart) story
The Narrative of Arthur Gordon Pym, sir Poe writes about a shipwreck where they are left without food and so draw straws to have one person sacrifice his body for dinner. Sure as shit, twenty years later this really happens and in court hearings we find out that the cabin boys name Richard Parker, just as in Poe's story.
* In 1898, Morgan Robertson's novella Futility describes an "unsinkable" ship called the Titan, which hits an iceberg, sinks, and doesn't have enough life preservers for everyone. Of course, in 1912 this really happens with the Titanic.
I could go on, but won't since my creative writing teacher told me that day -- just before calling security to escort me out of the building -- things should always be presented in 3's.
I will add, however, in closing what I believe this all means: The Gods Are Watching And Laughing Their Fucking Heads Off!
Here's that complete program written about a con man named Trump who wants to build a wall in 1958.
~~ Dr TV Boogie