Apnoea – British Academics – Full Moon Dream Snippets – 12-07-2025

Last night I was wearing the apparatus to measure the sleep-state with a view to investigating sleep apnoea. The wrist based device was held in place with some medical elastic gauze as was a pulse oximeter on my left index finger. I had a nasal cannula and two microphones stuck to my chest. It was a warm night. I consciously avoided doing any meditative practice whilst wearing the gizmo. I sometimes do this meditation if I wake up during the night and am a tad bored.

On and off during the night and whilst asleep I was consciously aware of the gizmo attached to my body, in particular the spring on the oximeter was clamping down on my finger. I had the vision of ET with his illuminated finger from time to time. The thought form, “ ’phone home, ‘phone home” amusingly popped into mind. A bit like a Rick Astley song.

I started to get strong visual images of various members of British Science Academia with whom I have had past interactions. None of these physical plane interactions were more recent than a decade. There were “chemists” from Imperial College London, Oxford University and Durham University. Some of the Oxford people were from way-way back pertaining to the molecular spectroscopy community I once interacted with in the last century. There were some from the van der Waals crowd.

Next, I was at some kind of camp in the woods with undergraduate students in wooden chalets. One of whom was very concerned about a patent she had in Germany. I gathered the students around all of whom had invested in her. I said we will call the European Patent Office in Munich the next morning. In the meantime I would take them out for a fire-pit and shamanic drumming in the woods. I picked up my shaman’s drum and we set off.

The scene returns to British Academia. There are now very senior figures only a few of whom I have ever met. I know of them vaguely. There are those in power, VCs and the like. Some are in the quantum area of expertise and there are some from the generation preceding me who must me in their 80s or thereabouts.

There is a sense of much toing and froing, of discussions behind the scene with some handwringing and indecisiveness. There is a sense of gossip and debate about what if anything to do.

The pace of the dream snippets and their interchange is hectic and breathless. It is far from rest full. I am aware during this sequence of the gizmo in my nose, on my finger and stuck to my chest.

I wake up around 6 AM for a loo break.

Back now in the dream and with the students. They are in the chalets with me and warning me that the academy does not like me doing drumming on courses for students and that my motives are very misinterpreted. My helping of the young woman with the patent is mis-construed as a sexual relationship because we appear too close, friendly and not distant enough. The students say that I am being judged. We gather together and start to call the patent office with the land line phone on speaker. I know that the call and the dream is being monitored by technical experts at MI6. They are highly technical and have methods of surveillance of which I am unaware.

In the dream I wonder how this whole shebang is going to be recorded on the medical device.

I wake up and the dream ends. I am keen to remove the micropore tape  holding the gizmo as quicky as possible.

Feeling Wired… wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim’rous beastie…

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But Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain:
The best-laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men
Gang aft agley,
An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain,
For promis’d joy!

Still thou are blest, compared wi’ me!
The present only toucheth thee:
But Och! I backward cast my e’e,
On prospects drear!
An’ forward, tho’ I cannot see,
I guess an’ fear!

Robert Burns

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Well I am all wired up to a polygraph. Looks like it measures heart, noise in the trachea, air flow in the nostrils and the saturation of oxygen in the blood. It is not the latest spec machine and I don’t want to pay twenty euros for a user or technical installation manual. The temptation to take it apart is high but I will resist.

Over the last few months with nearly fifty medical appointments so far this year I have felt a little like a lab rat / mouse. Last time I was like this was around 1994 when they did shit loads of tests to figure out my low B12 and high haemoglobin. They gave me a radio-tracer labelled B12 sample and wanted me to collect my piss. I was off on a night out with the lads, by the end of the night my rucksack was very heavy with ~ a gallon of Tennent’s Extra flavoured sample. They told me to collect it all!! They were taking the piss.

I figured that I was a part of some research project at St Thomas’ so I played along. Perhaps I helped someone’s dissertation.

I learned today that a diagnosis of moderate to severe sleep apnoea means that you have to stop driving and tell the DVLA!! You then need to get the problem under control.

They say that it can affect concentration. I’ll bet my level and extent of concentration against the bulk of the population. I’ll win.

Either the results will be invalid due to the apparatus falling off during the night, or they will be “normal” or they will have some anomalies due to my decade of dreaming practice and two and half decades of meditation. The first two cases are easy.  The third case might raise an eyebrow; be seen as an artefact or suggest a re-test.

All these scans and tests are getting a bit boring. I would much prefer to be in the control room watching the acquisitions than on the slab in the middle of a polo mint.

I have often wondered on the mentality of those able to torture mice. I did a team development course for those operating a gene related animal house {mice} at the University of Cambridge. They seemed to be regular people a bit annoyed by the unrealistic expectations of the last minute dot com academic demands. The academics wanted the animal house “sorted out”. I suggested to HR that it was the academics who needed to learn team work and to develop their interpersonal skills, which were poor.  I offered to do a course for them. Needless to say my offer to “Olympus” was not taken up. I would have had no problems calling out a pompous Cambridge prof or two.

I take the device back on Tuesday morning before my colonoscopy. We shall see {perhaps} what is recorded thereupon. The fun-filled and action-packed life goes on…

Failure to Piss & Moan or Whinge & Complain…

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From the Urban Dictionary:

whinge

Verb To whinge

A British/Australian/New Zealand (possibly South African and other commonwealth) English word which describes incessant complaining. A behaviour commonly associated with poms/pommes/pohms/pommies (people from England).

If you want to get anything done in this country you’ve gotta whinge till you’re blue in the face!

Aw piss off ya blardy whingin’ pommie!

Whinging pom

An joyless English person who complains incessantly.

See Piers Morgan.

That Piers Morgan is such a whinging pom oh my god.

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This morning whilst trying to go back to sleep I was reflecting on a phenomenon of non-plussed. This is when I observe other people being non-plussed when I fail to piss & moan or whinge & complain in line with their normal level of their expectations. They seem not to know what to do when I don’t bemoan my lot or plead how terrible life is and how much miserable pain I am in {poor me, pass the feather boa.}


People are accustomed to hearing high levels of whinging and moaning and therefore expect these.

I have an idea that the medical profession don’t take me as seriously as others because I am not complaining endlessly and asking of their deity for help with my suffering. They can’t gauge things on the whinge / complain / moan scale.  I am too close to the zero-whinge state to be taken seriously.

As a rule most people like to have others hear there whinges and go, “there, there, poor you”. They seek someone to join them in their misery and seek affirmation of how terrible their personal suffering is, Bless.

If you observe, a fair percentage of so-called conversation is about complaint and woe-sharing. If people stopped whinging there would be a lot less. One is supposed to offer succour to the woe-sharer. If one does not woe-share people can be non-plussed. They do not know what to do or how to behave.

A very large amount of woe-sharing comes from the notion of how unfair the world is imagined to be. It is very victim and poor me in source. It is a bit sandpit or nursery, toddler like.

Who said that life is fair? Why do people have such an expectation?

Anyway, is seems to me that my failure to piss & moan, whinge & complain sufficiently leaves people non-plussed. It is a non sequitur which does not make sense. It can cause unease.

The Holy Trinity – Fat Fags & Booze

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Brixton Prison, Jebb Avenue London S.W. 2 Inglan

it was de miggle a di rush hour
hevrybody jus a hustle and a bustle
to go home fi dem evenin shower
mi an Jim stan up waitin pon a bus
not causin no fuss

when all of a sudden a police van pull up
out jump tree policemen
de whole a dem carryin baton
dem walk straight up to me and Jim
one a dem hold on to Jim
seh dem tekin him in
Jim tell him fi leggo a him
for him nah do nutt’n
and ‘im nah t’ief, not even a but’n
Jim start to wriggle
de police start to giggle

Sonny’s Lettah – Linton Kwesi Johnson

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Isn’t it funny that when you wait a long time for a bus at the bus stop near Jebb Avenue on Brixton Hill, there are none then all of a sudden three arrive at once?

Every weekday morning for around five years I waited at that bus stop.

Last Friday I had a radio-nuclide bone scan, Tuesday I had an ECG and comprehensive cardio ultrasound, tomorrow I will have overnight monitoring for sleep apnoea, Monday I will start taking industrial grade laxatives with a colonoscopy due Tuesday afternoon and next Friday I am due a CT scan to check for diffuse idiopathic skeletal hyperostosis (DISH).

What a fun-filled and action-packed time I have.  That is quite a lot to cram in. That is a lot of buses.

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Tomorrow I will get fitted for various monitoring including cardio. Later, they may go one stage further and do a hospital admission with full electroencephalography (EEG).

Given hip pain, enlarged prostate and hot weather, I am not sure they will get a good data set.

I don’t know what gizmo I am getting tomorrow. BUT if there is an EEG it could easily generate an anomaly which they may struggle to explain. I know from before and self-test that I can flat-line a fast Fourier transform frontal lobe EEG within the S:N ratio. If this happens in a sleep study it might raise questions or get ignored. I would be an anomaly.

The hospital version has EEG. It may never happen.

As a researcher one is trained to look out for anything unusual. I have a low parathyroid hormone level which seems anomalous. It makes my research bells go ting. It does not seem so important to others.

It seems to me that the consensus is coming around to the idea that the root cause of many of my ailments is being ascribed to the Holy Trinity, fat, fags and booze. My high iron levels will get adjusted during any hip operation by blood loss, in the first instance.

In terms of the Holy Trinity I only have fat left to renounce.

Whenever I watch a medical video, say on a part of the endocrine system, I think to myself that is a whole lot of variables which you are asserting to be interrelated yet you only have very few data points. Is that not a bit of a stretch?

I suspect that I would have been a shit medical student, too many questions. I would struggle with the exams.

In a fortnight’s time I should have a few more pieces of information, including my putative diagnosis of DISH.

Looking at the bus timetable there may be a wait……after a fun-filled and action-packed week.

Touch wood, cross fingers etc.

ECG Anomalies and a CT Coronary Angiogram

Well, more rides on the medical merry-go-round are in store. I have a patchily shaved chest to which they attached the electrodes and they found some anomalies, a slight lowering, in the ST part of my ECG trace.

These can be due to ischaemia {low blood supply} or muscular hypertrophy. The nice young man was very thorough with a good bedside manner. He has recommended that I get a CT Coronary Angiogram, a new procedure to me. So I have just emailed the request to the radio people.

He was reassuring but you don’t fork out for fancy tests on a whim. There is a reason…

My gut feeling to get the cardio MOT done early was right. I figured there could be some twists and turns.

There are a lot of medical threads out there which hopefully we can make some global sense of {eventually}.

Luckily, I know where the radiography department is, it is near the nuclear medicine place I was at Friday and close to the coffee machines.

More loyalty card points for me…

It Is a Long Way from Kansas – Cardiology

The world is pretty fucked up right now. When the butcher of Khan Yunis is nominating B2- “Obliteration”- Boi Trump for a Nobel Peace Prize things are more than a little topsy-turvy. This is perhaps a new(ish) if twisted reality for our times. If you remember Franco, Mussolini at al., the unpleasant people, once formed a bad-boys club before and that turned out well…

The world is heading into a very nasty phase. Brutality is holding dominion over compassion and humanity. Rife me-first separatism is being propagated, decency {and common sense} is subdued by the practice of domination, coercion and forced submission. The disproportionate exercise of power is once more in flow. Waving cocks is once again sadly de rigueur.

It is along way from any idyllic Kansas of ere.

Today I get to find out if I have a heart amid all the high iron rust in my arteries and veins. They will probably plug me into the mains and look for traces of Fe2O3 in the pre-operative electrocardiogram. They may look for signs of a still pulsing muscle with an ultrasound device.

By the 18th of July I will have had 13 medical appointments in a little under three weeks. I will have given blood, had a CT and separate radionuclide scan {bonus CT also included}, a colonoscopy and test for sleep apnoea. I will have seen GP, implant dentist and consultant orthopaedic surgeons, a cardiologist, an osteopath, a rheumatologist and a lung specialist. That is a fair clustering of appointments. My dance card has been and is still full. In August I get to see a urologist for an update on my high prostate specific antigen levels. The next line of attack after the high res MRI I already have had is a prostate biopsy. Yippee!!! That will be fun. You can see from the look on my face above when they try to put a finger on it.

And on the TV in the news we get to see a stage managed travesty as mentioned in the first paragraph…

Are we really in this parallel universe. How the hell did we as a humanity get to this low low place. How much lower must we sink?? When this sort of thing seems quasi-normal?

This stinks, it smells real bad…

Gandalf and Felix – Our Resident Stray Cats

Yesterday at feeding time Felix, the old beat up neutered tom, did not show. He has been looking increasingly shabby of late, the vet suggested that he has cat AIDS. He has been with us for three or four years. He was fearful and wild. Other younger cats taught him to come close to us. Of late he has let me touch him and he rubs himself up against me at feeding time. We play picky-ups, where I pick him up with my foot and drop him gently out of the way. He keeps coming back for more. It is a game he likes. You can usually set your watch to his stomach. No sign of Felix. Gandalf was fed as per usual.

This morning again no sign of Felix. Something has unnerved Gandalf the young, spayed female. She followed me around the garden like a limpet. I was looking to find a perhaps dead or injured Felix. She was very attentive and seeking physical contact. No sign of Felix. Not in any of his usual haunts.

We understand that our care of Felix is perhaps end of life and palliative.

I just went out to feed Gandalf down by the river and with all the noise Felix arrived. He is in a bad way with what looks like a blunt force wound to his head. There is a swollen open cut like a boxer’s injury. Gandalf seemed pleased to see him and yielded the bowl to him. No contest.  I came back to the house to get another bowl and she followed me, while there was food available. She mewed and followed me back down to where Felix was feeding. It was as if she was asking me to feed them both as is the usual custom.

I put her bowl down and she was edgy, hardly snacking. She kept greeting Felix who was trying to eat. I stood there and petted Gandalf a little. She had a few mouthfuls. I was standing like presidential “security” while the two cats ate. Something bad has gone down and freaked them out. In the past when scared or injured, cats have sought me out. I have taken scaredy-cats out into the dark for a late night piss. Gandalf remembers humans and some of her memories are good. Perhaps some not. She is glued to the side of the house where she feels safe at the moment.

Felix has finished eating and is out by the greenhouse for his post feed snooze. I have been to look and his left eye is closed again like a boxer. He has some kind of injury to that side of his mouth. Looks like a car or dog or fox and not a cat inflicted wound. Gandalf was again following me like a magnet and it looked as if she was getting ready to jump up into my arms. Which would be a first. I “took” her close to Felix and she quieted down a little. She knows he is poorly. At the moment they are sat close to the house near the magnolia.

It might be wise to swing by the vets tomorrow to ask what to do. That wound could go septic, it does not look clean and Felix is not washing after eating, which is something he usually does.

The cats are clearly unsettled by some kind of trauma…

The Old Guard and Toltecs – Speculations

The second instalment of the Old Guard series has recently hit Netflix. It has a shared plotline of sorts with the Highlander movies of ere. In this Old Guard dramatization physical plane immortals exist adjoint humanity and interact to either good or bad effect depending on mood and predilection. In Highlander in the end there can be only one in the battle between good and evil. In the Old Guard series “Andy” the main protagonist has fought to help, aid and otherwise nudge humanity in a “better” direction. Instead of reincarnating she has one contiguous and very long life in which she preserves her super model looks despite getting slashed and shot. A magical and miraculous healing occurs. She loses her regeneration powers and then regains them.

In each the burden of endless longevity / immortality is touched upon. They do not dwell overmuch on the boredom aspect rather the action and power angle. The omnipotence may appeal to the burdened and downtrodden. It may titillate the sociopath and the narcissist.

For dramatic impact pivotal points in global {human} history are referenced. An allied them is to be found in the “Assassins Creed” franchise though in this case reincarnation is invoked and a DNA bloodline is the bearer and propagator of ongoing conflicts.

It has been suggested to me that the so-called Toltecs were incarnated around pivotal times and played a role behind the scenes in the evolution of human and planetary history. Given that the technique of erasing personal history is part and parcel of the training, it is not surprising that little historical refence can be found. In the Old Guard Andy tries to avoid publicity. However in this day and age and thanks to internet monitoring and various intelligence services it is impossible to leave no trace. The times have changed.

In the Toltec tradition there is such a thing as a nagal being. The word Nagual in Spanish American is similar. The word Naga in the Indian tradition does not differ in root. In the hagiography of Buddhism Siddartha is protected by king cobra, a naga-raja, from the rain. These nagas live in the place or world of the nagas, naga-loka. Wisdom can be elicited from nagas and naga-loka. Serpents are the dreaming symbol for wisdom.

This suggests via speculation and extrapolation that a nagal being was a contemporary and perhaps companion of Shakyamuni Buddha.

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“There is unanimous agreement that Nāgārjuna (ca 150–250 CE) is the most important Buddhist philosopher after the historical Buddha himself and one of the most original and influential thinkers in the history of Indian philosophy. His philosophy of the “middle way” (madhyamaka) based around the central notion of “emptiness” (śūnyatā) influenced the Indian philosophical debate for a thousand years after his death; with the spread of Buddhism to Tibet, China, Japan and other Asian countries the writings of Nāgārjuna became an indispensable point of reference for their own philosophical inquiries. A specific reading of Nāgārjuna’s thought, called Prāsaṅgika-Madhyamaka, became the official philosophical position of Tibetan Buddhism which regards it as the pinnacle of philosophical sophistication up to the present day.”

Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy

Nāgārjuna (नागार्जुन). – Name of an ancient Buddhist teacher of the rank of बोधिसत्त्व (bodhisattva).

Wisdom Library

The name also appears in the wider Hindu sources predating Shakyamuni Buddha

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Typically a three pronged nagal is said to distribute knowledge widely. Like a stone thrown into a pond.  If Nāgārjuna is a wider term for a nagal teacher in the Indian sub-continent then this suggests that the core Toltec and Vedic / Buddhist teachings are similarly sourced and may differ only in method of expression and verbalisation. The term is a generic and not a specific and personal name.

I personally have not found any huge glaring clashes between these philosophies. There is a marked difference in emphasis and the cultural refence points and metaphors employed.

The entertainment mentioned above is not completely inconsistent with a hierarchy of spiritual “masters” on overwatch of humanity. However in order to make it dramatically appealing they must have meaty bits and interpersonal relations such as love with hints of corporeal hanky-panky.

Too abstract and the film would not sell. The immortals have to be beautiful people if good and have ugliness if bad. One is not allowed a minger of an immortal. They must be L’Oréal advert fresh out of the shower from time to time.

Having a “hot” teacher can badly detract from learning.

It is not difficult to see that the course of human history did indeed pivot around relatively small and local acts. The execution of Jesus ended up being a game changer. The invention of antibiotics added number density to humanity.  An assassination was used as a pretext for the first world war. If there is tension a simple fuse is all that is needed to ignite. A miscalculation in a Bay of Pigs might cause a nuclear winter. The simple protection of a Buddha from the rain enabled the propagation of the teachings for mind.

Humanity is prone to flying off the handle in rage and “self-righteous” indignation. Humanity has a “cob” on and is very prone to fits of angry pique which kill hundreds of thousands.

In the absence of overwatch might the history of humanity have been even more bloody and brutal?

We are heading into unknown territories with AI and Drone-robotics. What are the two biggest markets? War and sex. Thus humanity will expend effort into developing these for profit applications. Since the theoretical abolition of slavery humanity seeks a replacement.  I read yesterday that progress toward in vitro spermatogenesis is advancing, if the same continues for human eggs it may be possible to make a human-like foetus. A synthetic human is unlikely to have an indwelling Soul. This biological dabbling and getting a blind boner for technology represents a Pandora’s box the lid of which humanity will find difficult to resist. What is unleashed now and later in this century may cease to be readily controllable. The temptation of cash and the arrogant appeal of God-like potential may lead humanity down a very dark path indeed. It may regret…

How might Andy and the Highlander come to the rescue?

Best Ever Dream – Dancing With Ganesh Dream 20-9-19

Still a bit shaky. I have just woken from my afternoon nap, which usually results from my midday codeine. It is a few weeks after I broke the head of my femur and had it repaired with a Titanium nail. I was taken to A&E in an ambulance. I am using a Zimmer frame and have a hospital bed downstairs.

Wow! That was the most intense dream I have ever had.

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I arrive at the edge of a walled garden and am welcomed through a large gateway by an upright Ganesh. He has all the typical elephant features, but his gait is that of a human being. He is iridescent blue in colour and has a twinkle in his eyes. I am welcomed into his “humble abode”. He shows me around his palace gardens, gardens that are tropical and scented. There are flowers everywhere. The garden is filled with water features. He takes me to a partially covered courtyard which has red-brown gravel. The pieces of gravel are near perfect spheres. He sits me down and we take tea together brought by his servants. I understand that this courtyard is where he practises his dancing.

A group of Indian musicians file in and seat themselves on the ground. Ganesh signals to them and they start playing. He gets up and starts to dance. His movements are exquisite, and his hands alternate between mudras beautifully and each mudra is exact and precise. He beckons me and starts to teach me some steps of his dance. {In the dream my leg functions fine.} Slowly I get the steps and we are starting to whirl and circle. It is entrancing. He stops suddenly and takes a blue-metallic AUM symbol out of his tunic. He walks over to me and presses it on my Anja centre. Slowly it penetrates and dissolves into me. I am left with a tattoo like impression on my skin. Ganesh smiles radiantly and we continue to dance.

I look at my body and notice that it has somehow taken on the same hue as Ganesh, which pleases me greatly in the dream. He laughs, at my surprise.

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I awake with a start and my first instinct is look at my arms. They are not blue. They are lightly tanned and freckled with a few bruises from all the needles. It takes a while to assemble the reality of the room. I get up and go outside to smoke.

London Welsh – Rugby Dream 06-07-2025 – Russia – France

Here is last night’s dream. We watched a recording of the Wales V Japan rugby match on the TV in which there was little inventiveness on the part of Wales.

The dream starts in a daylit room. I am sorting out some washing and come upon a red old-style rugby jersey made of thick linen and with a white button up collar. It has long sleeves and has been worn before. It is mine.  I pick it up, take off my t-shirt and try it on. It fits if a little tight. There is a strong feeling of Southern hemisphere.

I am next walking with John Williams to a clubhouse facility in the middle of several grass sports pitches some of which have rugby goal posts. I am dressed in normal clothes. We enter the clubhouse and it is the London Welsh rugby club dressing rooms / clubhouse. I am welcomed back by several of the team who recognise me. There are some new faces and everyone is getting changed into the red rugby jerseys with white old-style shorts. There are several teams from elite to social. The club physios and doctors are there. Siân and her team of young female physios are there. She is dressed in t-shirt and shorts with her blonde hair tied back in a pony tail. She has a strong Welsh accent. She is checking that people are fit to play. She comes over and has a cursory examination of my back and hips and clears me.

I am then ushered over to a table by the club “secretariat”. They want me to sign a membership form and pay my club dues. They say that a portion of the fee goes to the WRFU to help the national team. I say that I do not know which address to put in as I am between places. “Do I put in my French address for now?” “Yes”.

We do not yet know if we will be playing because there has been some snow overnight and the pitch might be too hard. We make our way out to the pitch. As I will be playing hooker from the bench I will need to know the lineout calls. One of the props says that he will whisper the actual as opposed to coded call for me so that I know where to throw in. I ask him to “scrum down” with me so that I can test how my hips hold up under pressure. We do this and I am able to hold his push and twist his body and lift him. He says that I will be fine, I cannot keep my Ventolin in my pocket. So I walk to the halfway touch flag and deposit it there, next to the pole.

The referee has declared the pitch match ready and we prepare for kick off. Even though I am old I know that in terms of cardiovascular and strength I will be able to keep up.

The dream ends.

I am reminded of my Dancing with Ganesh dream on waking.

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Around 40 years ago I played in a social rugby team at London Welsh which was filled with young professionals. The pack has several Ph.D. and lawyers.

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I wake up. It is around 5 AM. I feel no pain. Slowly the pain in my spine builds in. I drift off back to sleep.

It is ago, a few hundred years, and I am in Saint Petersburg at some kind of posh social event. I am among a delegation that is working between France and Russia, to try to find common ground. It is delicate work and the French are being difficult and uncooperative. The Russians are waiting for the French to decide and commit to something. A senior Russian court figure says to me that I need to make it clear that to the French it is they the French who are holding things up. I speak both languages. This segment pertains to “pony-tail” man. I am he again.

The dream ends