I’ll wager with high confidence that there is nobody on the planet who has dreams like the one I had this morning.

There is no sensible explanation for why any of the dream content should come to fore this morning.

Last night we watched “The Day of the Jackal” TV series, an episode of University Challenge series 49, My Kitchen Rules Australia and 24 Hours in A&E. In the Jackal programme the head of “6” at the “river house” is directly engaged in a storyline of chasing an assassin, the female agent who has direct in person access to the head uses her own personal mobile ‘phone at work and the office looks open plan. It seems not overly probable.

There was nothing to do with 12^th century Brittany nor crystal structures of a new type of compound. Nor was I brooding about the same.

So what do you do with a dream like that?

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I have joked before that some of my dreams could be the bones of a film script. I could bring knowledge back from the 12^th century and find hidden treasure in an unknown vault under a castle in Saumur by sneaking away during a tourist tour thereof. I might see a scroll which unpicks an historical puzzle. I could find an ancient bloodline which links me to royalty or the sangréal. I could divine the presence of a holy relic.

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I could secretly be a regenerated time lord able to travel backward and forward through space-time at will. I could get a hat and a whip and maybe call on my old pal Lara Croft.

A while back I asked a journalist his opinion about whether to talk with other journalists about my reincarnation theories. There have been articles on reincarnation in The Guardian for example. He was sceptical and asked me to consider “what was in it for me”.  Not a lot.

I am aware that there is a small finite possibility that this kind of thing could be newsworthy, not because of the dreams etc. themselves, rather because of the South Kensington connection, distant though that may be. I have residual boffin and I did co-found a high power laser company. A little odd, not tree huggy enough.

“Ex-boffin claims he is a reincarnated Buddhist monk…”

It could all get massively out of hand. I could probably handle it because I am not fibbing or bull-shitting. It might prove a little more problematic for others.

Explain that away satisfactorily without questioning my sanity…we are back to my alter ego Whacko McNutjob.

There is not a lot you can do with dreams like that other than to put them in my pipe and smoke them…

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