Candle Vigil – Koyaanisqatsi – Jaguar Shaman – Strange Group Dream 25-07-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ 1 Comment

Here is last night’s dream, strangely out of context with our current life and way of living.

The dream starts in South America on the mainland, perhaps Western Caribbean, on the connective peninsula. I am walking along a path cleared into the jungle at dusk / early night. I come upon a sunken built structure which has downward going stepped stone seating, a bit like a Greek theatre

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The construction is totally circular and the “stage” area is of the same grey stone at the rest of the amphitheatre. The construction is ancient South American, Maya or Aztec or some such. The radius is about 50 metres and there are at least half a dozen seating rows. It seems very familiar to me. On each step / seat is spaced a circle of lit candles in tumbler size glasses of various shapes and colours. There are hundreds of them. On the stage there are concentric circles of similar candles around a central circle empty void. The candles flicker lightly in the wind. I know this place to be a reliquary of living souls, each candle a spark of life. They have gathered to meditate on the state of the world. Against the darkened backdrop of the surrounding noisy night time jungle, here is a sanctuary.

The scene changes and I start to see scenes like from the film Koyaanisqatsi where rushing images of “normal” hectic life with its chaos and destruction are playing out on a “screen” in the mind’s eye. I hear chanting of Koyaanisqatsi over and over in a deep low voice as per the film. I know beyond any doubt that the world is badly out of balance, out of whack and out of kilter. The madness of the human “dream” is in full flow, justified to itself and thoroughly destructive. Unaware and largely uncaring. Caught up in a ceaseless rhythm of hectic.

The scene changes and I am now in a large open native kayak. There are two boats. We are paddling along the shore past jungle and two large settlements. It could be the sea or it could be a wide part of the Amazon River. We are around twenty metres from the “beach” and the jungle behind. I know we are being tracked and I catch sight of a magnificent jaguar easily keeping pace with our boats, jogging slowly in the forest. She is watching and observing. I can feel her muscles and see through her eyes. She is a totem of THE jaguar shaman, a spirit of the jungle, free and untrammelled. I see back through time to a ritual in a clearing of the jungle where I am enacting the convergence of the jaguar shaman. I have a jaguar pelt on my shoulders. As I enact I become and am the jaguar.

The scene changes to an urban setting; there are a group of people seeking to join or affirm their membership in a wider group. People have been accepted but must now make their public telephone call with their “mentor”. The sense of people wanting to be a part of is strong. I see one black man roughly my age make his call which we can all hear. In that the mentor slowly gets him to submit verbally. I think that this is coercive. Others make their call to belong to the “wonderful” organisation. The do decamps to a large pub near Hampstead Heath. People are queuing out of the door to buy their drinks. The black man is there and his mentor is going to buy him a drink, in a wait your turn fashion. I walk straight up to the bar and buy two pints of beer from one of the bar staff who know me well. I usher to the black man to join me in the beer garden. He follows and I explain that this has been cult like behaviour and he had better get the out sharpish.

The scene changes and the images of and sounds of Koyaanisqatsi close out the dream in a repetitive sequence.

The dream ends.

Hello Langley!

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

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Sister Gwyneth Pritchard

from Abergavenny

says they don’t wire tap

NHS hospitals

well at least, not that many

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Like her colleague

nurse Blodwen Jones

she doubts that

they are interested

in my mobile phones

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The firewall here is intact

says my friend Fireman Sam

they don’t hide mikes

nor fisheye cameras

on that woman, with the pram

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And when I meet on Monday

with the well-known august Dr Brain

he says that Mossad

are not here for me

they camp in the grounds, just to train

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The FSB have now long since left

says the man in the bed next

they know he knows

all their codes

as he has sent them to Putin, in a text

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Still, we count everyday

the visitor’s umbrella stand

just to be certain

and be sure

for strange isotopes, might be at hand

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And when the server goes down

it is just a gremlin not the Kremlin

the CIA and FBI

do not listen

to the words we send

it is of course, all pretend

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Sister Gwyneth Pritchard

from Abergavenny

says they don’t wire tap

NHS hospitals

well at least, not that many

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Ah but what about the Alien horde?

They can’t wait, to get me aboard

my organs are precious

can’t you see?

They want to experiment on me

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Hush now baby don’t you fret

and don’t you worry

tonight, we have a chicken curry

and before the lights go out

we can watch the X-Factor show

and even Langley will never know.

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The Uncanny Ability of Being Ignored

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Before I get into this. I have had a nagging question of late. Why are there so many people called Pam in the USA?

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Last night we started to watch a TV series called “Pine Gap” about an American led listening post / command and control centre for satellites and drone strikes near a town like Alice, Alice Springs in Northern Territory Australia. The said base exists in real life and you can find it on Google maps using satellite view. Alice is about 1200km by road from Mount Isa where I lived as a child. The scenery was a partial motivator for starting the series.

What the hell would the locals in Alice make of a bunch of septics and septic spooks to boot?

In the dramatization they listen in to mobile ‘phone conversations and monitor internet traffic. The notion of an all seeing NSA / CIA Palantir is invoked. People may be crunching meta data to point at internet traffic of interest.

The implication is that someone could be monitoring this blog. Though they would probably die of boredom. On a whim some dude could fire a drone attack through my office window. But I suspect that they would struggle with a cost benefit analysis.

I have noted that I have developed an uncanny ability at being ignored. People can discount what I say, ignore it. It is really noticeable with Jean-Jacques and Marie-Claire. They just talk at high speed in French. I say nothing and they don’t even notice. As a consequence we have just received a quote which does not match what we were seeking. It is weird being talked at. I tend to switch off. People don’t notice.

Over the years I have made quite a few inquiries of people, professionals, in the “scientific” dreaming community. Almost without exception they have been ignored. Were, I still institutionalized it might have been a different story. Sat where I am, with my knowledge, they have missed a huge opportunity, from my point of view. But of course I will never fit into a rigidly defined funded programme. I am ignored and not crucial to the furtherance of their {current} agendas. No biggie.

I did not for one moment expect to be listened to or taken seriously.

I also approached various people with my quantum optics ideas. Again I was very largely ignored.

It is my supposition that my increasing handicap with walking makes it even easier to ignore me. I am not only a “grey” but according to the rules and metrics, an obese man, who limps. This renders me not only easy to ignore but almost invisible.

I have a kind of camouflage in which I am not seen, not noted and am ignored. I am not taken into consideration.

This means that I could do all sorts of stuff under the radar, if I were arsed so to do. No bugger would cotton on.

The other weird thing I get is the notion that from time to time people are waiting for me to make a move. They will probably be waiting for a long, long time.

How can people ignore me yet wait for me to make a move at the same time?

Life is odd … people make some weird shit up in their minds…

Iridium this morning was a bit odd…

Radiation – Dying Inside – Iridium – Radiant Dream 24-07-2025

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Here is last night’s dream, a night when I made it all the way through to 5:20 AM without being woken  by my body’s grumbles.

The dream starts in a shop / storage unit which is choc-a-block with scientific instrumentation of various ages and types. They are piled high  and it is difficult to walk down the aisles without tripping over some cable or other. There is a man in a light brown linen overall behind a service desk there. He is in charge of the store. He encourages me to explore and offers me an extension lead distribution box with four UK plug sockets. I can test any instrument that I want.

I find what looks like a seismograph with several needles and data tracks. There is some chart paper in it. I go to plug it in and the paper advance works. I lower one of the data write ink heads. At first there is no line drawn but then the pen starts to work and the needle moves back and forth a little with the channel noise. There is ink. The signal level starts to decrease and decay. In the dream I know this to be a toxic radiation within the heart of someone I thought I knew. I was acquainted with this person but we have not spoken for around twenty years. Something in his heart is decaying and eating him up from the inside. The radiation in his heart is slowly deadly and his inner beingness is dying and decaying because of it. He kind of knows it but is unwilling to do anything about it.

I continue my walk around the store and set off a radiation detector tube. It has some residual power. I take the detector and power supply to the front desk and plug it in. The radiation detector goes off at a high count rate. The man says that I am radioactive and that is why people don’t want anything to do with me. I literally glow and radiate. They do not understand that this is good, light, radiation. He says that it is because of a special isotope of Iridium which I have in me. This isotope was a part of an interstellar meteorite which I found as a young boy. I was out walking in the desert-bush and came upon the Iridium rock. I touched it and incorporated the Iridium. Ever since I have had a radiant radioactivity. I am made of stardust – interstellar Iridium. People are afraid of my radiance.

In my mind’s eye in the dream. I see a young boy finding a small shiny “rock” in a red-brown earthy cupped palm shaped depression in the land. He is wearing a light blue-white checked sleeveless shirt and dark navy-blue shorts. His socks are pulled up to the knee. He picks the rock up and examines it. I know that he too will incorporate the irradiance. As he starts to incorporate, I put my hand on his shoulder and say to him that he is not alone.

I am now back in the shop. The man behind the counter shows me a radiation trace of me versus time. The radiation instead of decaying over time is in fact growing. I am becoming ever more radiant.

The dream ends.

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From Wikipedia

Iridium is a chemical element; it has the symbol Ir and atomic number 77. This very hard, brittle, silvery-white transition metal of the platinum group, is considered the second-densest naturally occurring metal (after osmium) with a density of 22.56 g/cm3 (0.815 lb/cu in) as defined by experimental X-ray crystallography. 191Ir and 193Ir are the only two naturally occurring isotopes of iridium, as well as the only stable isotopes; the latter is the more abundant. It is one of the most corrosion-resistant metals, even at temperatures as high as 2,000 °C (3,630 °F).

Iridium was discovered in 1803 in the acid-insoluble residues of platinum ores by the English chemist Smithson Tennant. The name iridium, derived from the Greek word iris (rainbow), refers to the various colors of its compounds. Iridium is one of the rarest elements in Earth’s crust, with an estimated annual production of only 6,800 kilograms (15,000 lb) in 2023.

The dominant uses of iridium are the metal itself and its alloys, as in high-performance spark plugs, crucibles for recrystallization of semiconductors at high temperatures, and electrodes for the production of chlorine in the chloralkali process. Important compounds of iridium are chlorides and iodides in industrial catalysis. Iridium is a component of some OLEDs.

Iridium is found in meteorites in much higher abundance than in the Earth’s crust. For this reason, the unusually high abundance of iridium in the clay layer at the Cretaceous–Paleogene boundary gave rise to the Alvarez hypothesis that the impact of a massive extraterrestrial object caused the extinction of non-avian dinosaurs and many other species 66 million years ago, now known to be produced by the impact that formed the Chicxulub crater. Similarly, an iridium anomaly in core samples from the Pacific Ocean suggested the Eltanin impact of about 2.5 million years ago.

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It is not Possible – Fish ‘n Chips

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I am quite fond of a challenge from time to time. Especially when those challenges seem nearly impossible. A part of the motivation behind doing a start-up company was to find out, by way of experimentation, if it was actually possible. I was serious about the idea of the company as well. But the difficulty seemed like icing on the cake. We raised £5 million start-up funds {year 2000} based on one day of concentrated pitches. People were very surprised at the time. My personal pitch to fund hit rate remains very high at 100% with one outfit saying to come back later if/when we wanted a bigger funding tranche.

The more I think about it the idea of trying to get a potentially ground breaking {premature} patent in Quantum Telepathy granted under my new alias is attractive. We already have Quantum Heralding and Quantum Teleportation, so why not? Given that quantum remains a “hot topic” there will be tech companies and patent watchers doing key word monitoring. There may be governmental interest globally. When shit loads of money is involved people monitor intellectual property (IP). Portfolios are important and valuable. There is intelligence gathering.

It might be a flash in the pan tomorrows chip wrapper kind of story.

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Such a patent application would appear on the radar, so to speak. Nobody would take me seriously because Man-in-his-shed Ltd is not a renown company or institution. Someone would scan read the application because it would be their job so to do. In all likelihood it would stop there. Unless someone wanted a light interest kind of quasi-joke story to go with the cute fluffy animals at the end of the news. I am no industrial or corporate threat. My shed contains no lasers simply a sit-on mower and a hedge trimmer. I have not worn a suit in over a decade.

Already I am the only quantum optics patent holder in the rural farming commune where I live. At a guess the local newspapers might find this quirk worth a few column millimetres.

The weirdest outcome would be predictivity.

In a film script a number of possible yet unlikely plot lines could ensue…

You never know what might happen. It is sufficiently off-the-wall to have highly unpredictable results. Once the radar blips anything might happen…

hmmnnnnn…

Just in from the IPO…

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I have not long ago made this on my PC…

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This is what a patent grant would look like for Mr McNutjob. Times New Roman looks good!!

Careful examination of the application date is strongly advised, it is a glimpse of the future.

I am no expert, it only took me a few minutes.

Heaven knows what those skilled in the art might do…

Information and Context

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Because people are lazy, they tend to treat information in a monopolar way, without actually acknowledging that. We have monopolar information. They are very confirmation bias oriented. The red caps might hear gospel from the don, the green caps from The Guardian and the anti-brown-Islam-o-phobes might want to hear Uncle Nigel pontificate. People perceive according to how they want to perceive, they believe what they want to hear. Perception is monopolar and not balanced or heteropolar. Bias is pandemic.

Taking a monopolar information source out of a wider context is rarely wise. Newspapers are sold to their biased audience and articles are targeted at that bias. Tell me what I want to hear and I will buy your newspaper, or clickety-click it on line so that you can get advertisement revenue.

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I could say that I have a fair general knowledge. Out of context that is a lie. I would be shit at normal pub quiz general knowledge, because a) I don’t like soccer, b) I have no idea about current soap operas and c) I know nothing about package holiday destinations nor who is hot on social media. I would be a middling team member on a University Challenge quiz team.

I can say with a fair degree of confidence that I understand how academic science is enacted and reported. I may be rusty on nuance, but I have a good gist. I can read a Nature article and know to what extent I understand and if there are gaps in understanding which I might need to follow up on. If I watch a video on YouTube, I know that it is almost always surface and that people have a click generating agenda. Pass the Saxa salt, please.

I have read widely in the esoteric – occult – new age bookshelves of the library, the one with actual books in not on-line. I have intellectual access to that context something your common or garden scientist will not have. Many so-called scientists are disproportionately fearful of being labelled “whacko”. The gossip around “cold-fusion” is exemplar. Yet I have discussed over a cigarette on the steps of the Chemistry Department at Imperial College with a practising homeopath and staff member. We talked and speculated on quantum effects in water memory. Homeopathy is derided by many a sceptic yet demonstrably erudite scientist.

People are scared of the occult. It actually means “difficult to see” as in “an occult fracture of the T3 vertebra”. It does not mean that I am going to bite the head off a bat, spit blood to anoint the bone of goat and point that at you whilst chanting incantations for your demise.

People can and do get the wrong end of the stick.

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It is possibly not illegal to file a patent application on “Quantum Telepathy” using the name Whacko McNutjob at the Intellectual Property Office in Newport, less eye catching perhaps at the European Patent Office unless the examiner was a Brit. One could ascertain if there was prejudice against Nut-jobs. We could define a new term, nutjobphobic.

I am confident that I can write an application of sufficient plausibility. I have three granted patents already.

People can over and misinterpret just about anything which they read on the internet. Rarely do they check understanding nor can they be arsed to read around or do further research. The gospel according to SEO optimized Google search returns is a highly skewed and paid for version. People forget and rely.

The informational fodder is not always the best fully nutritional meal for an avid clicker.

Pierro – Miscommunication – Light Through Darkness – Lost Car Dream – 23-07-2025

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Here is last night’s dream.

The dream starts in a very urban setting, next to a large river which is brackish and tidal. There is a very large pub on multiple levels which backs onto the river. It has a feel of a Dickensian smugglers’ pub on the banks of a foggy Thames. The wife and I meet Pierro there on the land side off a normal road. We go inside.

The scene changes and I am now entering the lower levels of the pub from the sea side through a rarely used entrance off the “beach”. I work my way up through the pub looking for Pierro and the wife. Some of the rooms are busy some are not. The pub is very big with many rooms and many bars. In one the barman hands me a half-pewter tankard filled with porter a type of dark beer. Carrying this I continue searching through the pub. I walk through an office drinks party in one bar and a pre-wedding piss up in another. I find them in a wooden bar with benched wooden seating.

I again greet Pierro. He says that he has someone he wants me to meet. They are his cousins from America. He introduces four men who are a bit like the “Deliverance” hill-billies. They are roughly dressed and with poor teeth. They are unwashed and smelly. One of them has fingernails like dog claws. Another has a lazy eye and is wearing a lopsided straw hat. They are all tall, well over six feet and on the skinny side. They look out of place in the urban setting.

I start to speak with them in English, but they respond in French with a very strong creole or patois accent, that is very thick and difficult to understand. It could be Canadian American Indian French or from the deep south of the USA. It is very hard to understand. I speak with them in my attempts at French. It is clear to see that we are having massive, huge, trouble communicating. Communication is very poor between us.

The scene changes to a different urban setting. There are tall dark red brick buildings a bit like those near Kensington High Street and a bit reminiscent of Manchester. There are thin several storey tall, terraced houses and office like accommodation. I am there for a rock concert. Perhaps by Oasis. There is on street car parking with old style parking meters. I pick up my key from reception and go to find the house which I have been allocated, which I am renting. I go inside and dump my bags. I then leave and lock up putting the keys in my pocket. I look at the number on the door so that I can find it amidst all the very similar looking buildings. I can see the number 1347 in large white screw-on numbering. In the dream I think it odd that the house has such a high number.

I then set off to look for my car having forgotten exactly where I parked it. I know that I parked it near here because I used intuition to find then ticket office. I am looking for my old navy-blue Ford Fiesta. I look up and down the streets, down back alleys, in car parks above and below ground. I cannot find the car but am not concerned because it is my old car which I sold many years ago.

The dream ends.

As I am coming to, I note that the dream is about 15 both because of the house number and Pierro. It is about light through or from darkness. I note that this dream is a dreaming symbol dream.

15 is the jewel of awareness light thorugh darkness.

No Biggie

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In case you were wondering, yes, I did inhale.

I think I might try to change my name by deed poll. I quite like the name Whacko McNutjob. Apparently at the Royal Courts of Justice it costs £50.32. I can already use the name but if I want it on official documents I need a Deed Poll. It tickles me, the idea of trying to file a Patent Application using the name Whacko McNutjob. It would be fun to see quasi-official stationery addressed to Mr Whacko McNutjob.

Is the domain free? Whackomcnutjob.com is today on sale for five euros. Careful how you spell that.

If I got a job on a boat out of Southampton, my address could be Mr Whacko McNutjob, Boaty McBoatface, South Atlantic, near Las Malvinas.

Perception is a weird thing. Many are easily freaked by things like cancer. To us, as a four cancer couple, it is more commonplace than to others. The odds of sampling the various probabilities twice for two people, and getting our results are not favourable, we are in an unlikely or improbable situation. It may seem like a Biggie or whopper to others. It is a simple reality to us.

To me it is no biggie that I am here on the compound. I have been here for six years. This morning I cleaned out the kitchen exhaust water degreasing unit. It is not an overly pleasant thing to do. It saved us a couple of hundred euros. This is not far off a weekly shop for us. Because we are careful with grease waste it should last now until summer next year. A lot of people would turn up their noses at doing such a whiffy thing, it would be beneath them.

What may be a biggie for some is not for others.

People may think that it should not be like this. Why not? It is how it is. No biggie.

To me it is the most normal thing in the world to write rambling blogs covering diverse themes, to have extensive dreams and to make speculations. They don’t bother anyone. According to WordPress hardly anybody reads this blog, the outer world is largely unaware and uninterested by what goes on in this little corner of the internet. The writing perhaps keeps my dementia at bay.

No biggie.

The only potential problems come IF anyone thinks things should be different or ought to be another way. IF for some reason the content here has some kind of outer-world significance.

At last the medical dance card is thinning out for summer. I can get the two-stroke strimmer out and clear some spaces. Weirdly an hour and a half of strimming seems to make by back pain less intrusive.

One item on the pre-op checklist is checked off. A few more to go.

No biggie…

Occam’s Razor and Past Life Recall

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Occam’s razor

In philosophy, Occam’s razor (also spelled Ockham’s razor or Ocham’s razor; Latin: novacula Occami) is the problem-solving principle that recommends searching for explanations constructed with the smallest possible set of elements. It is also known as the principle of parsimony or the law of parsimony (Latin: lex parsimoniae). Attributed to William of Ockham, a 14th-century English philosopher and theologian, it is frequently cited as Entia non sunt multiplicanda praeter necessitatem, which translates as “Entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity”, although Occam never used these exact words. Popularly, the principle is sometimes paraphrased as “of two competing theories, the simpler explanation of an entity is to be preferred.”

This philosophical razor advocates that when presented with competing hypotheses about the same prediction and both hypotheses have equal explanatory power, one should prefer the hypothesis that requires the fewest assumptions, and that this is not meant to be a way of choosing between hypotheses that make different predictions. Similarly, in science, Occam’s razor is used as an abductive heuristic in the development of theoretical models rather than as a rigorous arbiter between candidate models.

From Wikipedia

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Last night we watched a 1997 film called “Contact” with Jodie Foster as the main protagonist among a {now} star studded cast. The special effects were naïve by todays’ standards. The film misused the notion of Occam’s Razor; the simplest explanation was that she did indeed travel to a civilisation near Vega. The film argued that this was too convoluted and did not happen whereas the counter explanation of cunning hoax which was way more convoluted and complicated was acceptable and true to the government. A simple inconvenient truth of interstellar travel was rejected in preference for a hyper-complicated adherence to what normal accepted, science and wisdom insisted.

Rules in science are kept, often way past their sell by date, exceptions and first, second and third order corrections terms are added, one must flog the life out of a dead horse rule. “Science” is so conservative that in worshipping at the temple it does not have to get called up to serve in the IDF. Elvis however did national service.

In the blog under the heading “Reincarnation Themed” in the column to the right are collected a number of dreams which are “Ronseal” dreams. A possible explanation is that elements of past life recall are implicated.

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It might be possible to come up with some convoluted psychological hypothesis as to why I had these dreams, maybe invoke some DSM-5-TR defined criteria for some disorder or syndrome. It could be an act of creative writing on my part. I could have smoked way too many spliffs as a young man or simply be a tin-foil hat wearing rainbow unicorn jockey. I could be whacko the nut-job, from Loony-Ville Alabama.

The simplest explanation is that they contain elements of past life recall. Occam’s razor therefore suggests that this is more likely.

Unfortunately past life recall is not deemed possible by some.

If history teaches us anything it is that things deemed impossible, and adamantly so, can and do prove feasible. Once it was deemed mad to suggest Cholera was a water born disease. History suggests that the prevailing THEY are often wrong yet vehement and assertive. They refuse to accept that they could be in error. Power must not be yielded to plebs and upstarts.

The self-diagnosis by THEY of their own omniscience is rarely a sound diagnosis.