Burning House – Pots of Honey – nagal’s Courier – Tim – Dream 06-06-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dream.

The dream opens in a large, several storey, mansion like house. The house is in London and it is full of people milling around. There is a sense of there being former colleagues there, though I cannot identify any individuals. There is a mild chaos and a mild sense of consternation heading towards panic. There is much ado.

Somewhere in the building a fire has started. There is a growing warmth, heat and smoke. People are even more directionless and flapping about. I notice a pair of double fire doors with Fire Exit written upon them on a green panel. I press the bar to open the doors and start to shout and usher people outside to safety. For some reason they have lost the plot and it is my calm that helps them make good the exit.

I can see that the fire is not yet very serious but is in the process of worsening. I am cool calm and collected. I go back inside the building. I can see two fair sized terracotta amphorae. I put one hand in the neck of each of these and lift them up from within. I calmly carry the amphorae out of the building to the fire assembly point. I set them down on the ground and pull out my hands which have been immersed in the amphorae. A rich light golden honey flows off my arms and hands and back into the necks of the amphorae. For a long time, honey flows off my forearms and hands into the amphorae. I know that there is nectar in the honey and that both my hands are fully immersed and coated with that nectar-honey. I enjoy the sensation of flowing honey.

The scene changes and I am walking out of an urban car park at night. I am being tailed by some young men in jeans and with hoodies. They are following me for quite some distance. There are a few of them but two main protagonists. I am unconcerned. I stop and turn. I ask them why they are following me. They say that they have noted that I have something in the back right hand pocket of my jeans. They asks what it is. I say that it is a “special” USB flash drive with a plan, a business plan for Alexandros who is the nagal’s courier, my nagal’s courier. They say that they want me to give it to them. I say that it is encrypted and that only Alexandros and I can read it. They say that they still want it. I explain that it will be for them a Pandora’s box and any attempt at reading it will unleash things they do not want unleashed. They insist. I hand them the USB drive which is in a small black velvet bag with a drawstring closure.

The scene changes and I am in some big faculty like meeting where {big} cheeses are sat around tables in a boardroom style layout. There are more than a dozen people there all smartly dressed. They are aged fifties and early sixties. The meeting is being chaired and convocated by Tim Jones. He has been given this job as being less partial and personally implicated than others. They are to discuss with me what my business plans are, what it is that I want. There is a sense of UK university with some politico-input. I say to Tim that it is more than a little rich that they are finally asking me what I want. How come it is now. He does not know what to make of the situation and is resentful that he has been drawn into it. With no success I try to explain to him and those present that I want nothing, I have no demands. The ball is not in my court – so to speak. I remind Tim that I was pivotal in examining many of his Ph.D. students and was used by him then discarded. Those gathered around the table do not know what to make of it as they are expecting some kind of plan from me, where there is none.

The dream ends.

Squeamish About Death – Place Your Bets

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

I think it fair to speculate that many are afraid of death and the concept of dying. Opinions differ on the nature of afterlife, if there is one, and although reincarnation is a widely held concept there is no direct physical proof, rather circumstantial evidence. People are curious about what happens when you die. If one is simply extinguished then death is not to be feared whereas loss of life might be.  Time wasted is regretted.

People say “it is tragic that so and so was taken from us” when in fact death is a wholly natural process, at least on our planet. Few say, “it is natural that he passed away.” There is much social conditioning around death.

Humanity has a hang up about death.

I saw my first deaths up close in the Zambezi River aged ~11. One man died by drowning the other by crocodile. I had to write the account for the local police because they, grown men, were unable to write. Somewhere that report of death in my scruffy childish handwriting may still exist.

No matter how strong your faith, what your teachers tell you, nor whatever is written in books, from a philosophical point of view, whatever your opinion about death is, is simply that, opinion. There may be aspiration or wish. In effect you are placing your bets on what may or may not happen. This may be conscious or simple laziness. People can drift sleepwalking towards their death. Some contemplate it up close and personal. I’ll speculate that it is better to be prepared.

–

–

To think about death can be seen to be morbid. On the other hand it might be wise to take advice from the inevitability of death and change your actions accordingly. No matter how squeamish you may be about death, dying and the death process, it awaits you. Your allotted time, your length of planetary sejour are finite.

If you are placing your bets on there being no heaven or hell, then you could be in for a surprise when you find “yourself” conscious therein. If you are shit-scared of dying then the process for you will be very uncomfortable. If you are relaxed and ready, then whatever happens will be more facile.

According to religious theory you cannot get away with placing a spread bet, covering all options. You need to choose, decide and commit.

If you are somehow still conscious after death and visit your old “haunts” to see what is transpiring, you could be in for a surprise. If you came to check up on me, to say hi. That might be a surprise for you. What might you say? If I was less surprised than you, would that be surprising for you?

If the light simply goes out there is nothing left to worry about.

At the end of the day, literally, how you approach death depends upon where you have placed your bets in life, what your opinions, points of view and actions have been.

Death although it can be in a public space with people, is largely personal. I don’t believe that you can bullshit death. You may try to be in denial, but death will not care. You are effectively alone on your own when you die. That may not be brain consciousness as we know it. But there is nobody “there” with you on the “inside”.

I don’t think that being squeamish about death and dying is wise.

Can Dreams Be Prescient – Death 05-06-2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

This morning, I had a dream in which someone I knew and last spoke to over twenty years ago was dead. The sense was that this death was/is in and around now. They had recently died or are currently in the act of dying. The feeling was that they will visit, after death, relatively soon.

I searched the internet with their name and the key word obituary. If they have died, or when they die, there will be some kind of obituary published. I found none, today.

A long time ago, unless I am kidding myself, I went through a period when my dreams seemed to be uncannily prescient. I dreamed things and they happened within a few days of the dream. I can not 100% rule out that I saw what I wanted to see. But my feeling is that they were indeed prescient.

I have dreamed post-death visitations from a number of people. Some came true, some are yet to happen. I dreamed in detail the death of someone who had a large impact on my life and they died on the other side of the world roughly concurrent with my dreams. There were other signs. I have had other dreams of death which were proved roughly contemporary.

Today I have a date marker, which may or may not be valid.

For some reason I am getting the words “inorganic beings” on and off of late. This refers not to the inorganic beings of Castaneda but UK chemists of that persuasion.

I keep coming back to the notion of how people use the end of their life being important. In those last few years work can be done on outstanding karmic due, work required by karma. It can be the crowning glory or the ultimate failure of a life. A time of rich harvest or a time of badly increasing debt.

Interestingly the theme of the USA increasing its debt, what it owes, is current. The USA is living on the borrowed. Borrow now pay later…

Genetic Counsellors and Cans of Worms

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

I learned a new phrase today “genetic counsellor”. Apparently, at least in Canada, such things exist. I have been recommended to have the HFE gene test to see if I have hereditary haemochromatosis (HH). This for completion. Back in 1994 I visited this high haemoglobin “space” and was bled regularly at St Thomas’. Retrospect suggests that I may have had an ongoing health condition which was missed back then.

–

–

They took an armful each time. 

This HFE mutation would provide a benign explanation for my raised haem and ferritin levels. My ferritin levels have been increasing with time over the last four years. I don’t really have many of the symptoms associated with the genetic disease. It is linked with the less benign polycythaemia. Which would require a wider more substantive gene panel test, so-called molecular oncology. The authorisation for this testing is probably reserved for specialists. Iron overload is not without consequences. It can “cause” cancer or be correlated with it. Medical literature often blurs correlation with cause.

The problem with all this new-fangled gene testing is that it can open a can of worms

–

–

Needless to say, the genetics are complex.

–

–

I would be a mutant of sorts…

The next stages are Iron MRI and/or liver biopsy. The latter does not sound like much fun!!

Liver disease is possible maybe even likely, but I am largely asymptomatic. My enzyme work was ok.

—————————-

The next stage of inquiry would be to look for myeloproliferative neoplasms which are rare, not lottery winning rare, but rare enough. Search of JAK 2 and other related things starts increasing the price. JAK 2 can mutate.

—————

“Mutations in JAK2 have been implicated in polycythemia vera, essential thrombocythemia, and myelofibrosis as well as other myeloproliferative disorders. This mutation (V617F), a change of valine to phenylalanine at the 617 position, appears to render hematopoietic cells more sensitive to growth factors such as erythropoietin and thrombopoietin, because the receptors for these growth factors require JAK2 for signal transduction. JAK2 mutation, when demonstrable, is one of the methods of diagnosing polycythemia vera.”

————————

The thing is looking closely at most people my age the chances are that you will find something which has gone wrong.

The French sites suggest that some kind of follow up is warranted because of my Iron status.

Not sure what if anything the GP will recommend….

The osteoporosis situation seems simpler to treat with some pills, supplements and vitamins. But could have an Iron cause.

Given that the haemoglobin situation has been ongoing for, perhaps, thirty years it seems unlikely that any new unpleasant things have suddenly taken hold. But the ferritin level has doubled since 2021.

There is part of me that thinks that I just let this all drop…The osteoporosis might have enabled the fracture of my femoral neck six years ago. I have perhaps been living with it since. Simple answer is to not fall over.

A few more pills is no big deal however…

————————–

hereditary haemochromatosis – regularly being bled.

Not HH – Iron MRI / Liver biopsy —

Liver disease – it depends on what – treatments in absence of virus are usually diet and no booze.

Something fancy and esoteric – myeloproliferative neoplasms – massive complex can of worms

The French sites suggest that some kind of follow up is warranted because of my Iron status.

What is inside the can…?

Stuck, On Hold and In Limbo

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

While the world is caught up in a Bruce Springsteen “Glory Days” rose-tinted-sepia version {drama} of what America might once again become, not much is moving forward. The capitalist evangelist nation has admitted it is no longer competitive and is thinking sanctions to protect its internal markets. Your average American is unwilling to work for the same pay as someone less corpulent.

The war in Ukraine and the barbarity in Gaza continue apace. The world watches, sits on its hands and talks but does not. Humanity is very stuck and harping on about the Glory Days will not help no matter how many Bud Lights you refuse to drink. There has been no genuine lead from the USA for near a decade. Unsurprisingly the economic miracle foreseen by the Brexit soap-boxers has not propelled the UK into becoming a world economic superpower. Cunning plans may not be well thought out.

There is a huge leadership vacuum in the world today.

In my opinion humanity is need of an almighty wake up call to re-start the “save the planet” agenda and to overcome the for profit climate change nay-sayers. The equation is simple choose to be “comfortable” now and do fuck all, then pay very dearly later. This manifesto will get you elected in a “popularist” sense.

Here we have decided to see if it is possible to get anything done to ameliorate my hips. We have decided not to attempt to sell and move. The idea being that two new hips is about a year if the waiting time is a few months. I can’t find data on French wait times. Nor do I know if it is even possible. At the end of the month, we shall have a little more information. Best guess is the earliest operation would be after the summer. If it was UK best case scenario is six months wait with up to two years possible / probable. I could spend a huge chunk of remaining life savings and get it done privately in Hampshire, near the ferry port.

At the moment we are on hold and in limbo. Things are up in the air with no answers. We share that stuck-ness with the world. The news on television is very repetitive, a daily Groundhog Day. I don’t care who is on Love Island nor what percentage of GDP the UK will devote to defence.

Humanity needs an almighty wakeup call…

White Coats – DNA – Gene Testing – Lab Instrument Dream – 03 -06 -2025

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

Here is last night’s dream.

It opens in an ethereal very white laboratory setting in which there are no walls. There are people milling about in white laboratory coats. Most of these are young. Some have pencils and pens in the coat pocket. There is a prevalence of spectacles. I am sat at a large white desk upon which are computer terminals linked into the DNA sequencer machines. I am with two younger women both wearing white lab coats, neither of which are done up. They have name-identity-security cards on deep blue lanyards around their necks. One is blond the other dark haired. They are younger than me and “official”. I am dressed in civvies, black jeans and a black cashmere jumper. My hair has a fresh buzz-cut.

The dark haired woman asks me how the genetic testing was authorised. I explain that my haemoglobin levels are high and that I have a large excess of ferritin in my blood. She nods and gestures for me to open the files on the computer in front of me. These files contain my full DNA results and parts where the study has zoomed into specific genes of concern regarding my blood and health. Before we get to the results there is a screen showing who has accessed these files. There is a list of health professionals in normal black type. Then in a box ringed in bright red and backlit is one saying D. Someone who I once was acquainted with. The files access log says that he has accessed these files illegally and without proper authorisation on a number of occasions. He has been illegally monitoring my test results. The woman asks me if I know who it is. Yes. Somehow, he has contrived illegal access. He has been snooping on my genetic testing and passing them on. It is illegal, he has been unlawful.

The scene changes to an ultramodern biochemistry laboratory on an upper floor. There are wet benches, fume hoods and instrumentation suites. Everybody apart from me is decked out in white lab coats. They are all younger than me and exude and air of quite professionalism going about their business. I enter a glass doored laboratory instrumentation suite. At the “welcome” desk there is a young man and a young woman. He asks how he might help. I explain that I need to run a sample. He shows me into to their latest machine. It is a hybrid mass spectrometer-NMR- separation machine. They are convinced that I know little to nothing about science instruments and mass spectrometry in particular. I say that before I run my sample, I need to assess the signal to noise ratio of the instrument. I inspect it.

When I am ready, I inject my sample using a micro-litre syringe into the septum at the spectrometer inlet. The results will be available in a few hours. Everyone thinks that I am a pleb, who knows nothing. The next day I return and ask to run the sample again. I have left it on the bench to oxidise overnight and that will give me an added insight into the chemical composition. The man is a bit reluctant but lets me run the sample again.

The dream ends.

Inside a Boomer and Assumptions

~ quantumdreamer ~ Leave a comment

A while back when we were trying to sell our house the young estate agent commented that we had loads of DVDs just like his parents. They were umbilically connected to their devices. Their default was to use a search engine instead of think. As an old git I can comment that they had no inkling as to what may or may not be inside a boomer, what that essence may be.

Around 40 years ago at Durham University, during a conference on high resolution spectroscopy of van der Waals molecules, I gave my first oral presentation concerning the paper-worthy results from my first year experiments. It was a tad precocious to speak amongst all those professors dressed in my black ripped 501s with buckled suede Doctor Martens, a short spikey flat top haircut and a Smiths t-shirt.

–

–

My moderate hangover had to be negotiated. I made no mistakes and the talk went well. Later that evening I was “chatted up” by various profs perhaps looking to recruit in due course. My punk “fuck you” attitude was reeled in.

To use the time honoured phrase, the youth of today have no idea what it was like back then. How protest and rebellion were a rite of passage. People do not expect residual punk attitude. I was soon to become an evangelical vegan at that time. Meat is murder!

Last night we watched a short documentary on the Smiths who provided a sound track to various aspects of life, including my mid-nineties depression. “Heaven knows I am miserable now…”

People make shed loads of assumptions; they always have and they always will. There is an expression that “assumptions are the mother of all cock-ups”. {and clusterfucks} I have extended the vernacular so that it is up to date.

Even when people know that making assumptions is foolhardy, it seems that they simply cannot resist making them and assuming their accuracy and applicability. Checking assumptions is for many an anathema. People will assume how others might behave, what they will do.

My mother when asked to come to my second wedding said that it was too far away and difficult for her to come. My assumption was that her assumption was that she would be cajoled into coming.  After sufficient cajoling she would yield as if she was doing us the greatest favour in the entire world. Instead, I said OK fine and left it at that. She may have been waiting for me to change my mind and start cajoling. I did not. The wedding went ahead without us having to cater to her insatiable drama queen tendencies.

Sometimes assumptions can backfire “biggly” to quote Herr Trump.

–

–

One of the assumptions in our modern day is that everyone is contactable, that they have contact details and because of the fear of missing out, they will never be incommunicado. People are eternally at “beck and call”. When I say that I do not use ‘phones people do not believe me. They think I mean “much” but I don’t. My mobile has had two calls in six months both of them test calls by the wife. Someone once said to me, that if I had any questions, I could call them. He may have imagined that I might. I “filed” his card without even looking at it…In my mind we would never speak again.

I suspect that in a cross generational sense we do not understand nor appreciate the difference in essence. Even within a generation a beige or a plastic may not get a goth, a punk or an indie. As part rasta in orientation I may not subscribe to the 80s “Wolf of Wall Street”. When I sat in the board room at Fleming Family and Partners in Dover Street Mayfair to discuss million pound funding deals none of the suits knew where I was coming from, nor did they care overmuch.

It is funny your true colours are on the inside and not the outside.