Tag: The Royal Institution of Great Britain.

Sanskrit at The Royal Institution of Great Britain…

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This morning I had a dream concerning Sanskrit at The Royal Institution. I did research there 1985-88 for my Ph.D.

In 1861 and 1863 Friedrich Max Müller gave lectures there whilst Michael Faraday was director on the science of language.

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One of these was on Sanskrit the Indo-European mother tongue.

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In 1870 he gave a series of lectures on the Science of Religion when John Tyndall was director.

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Back then people may have been more open minded and less strictly subject specific in orientation.

Friedrich Max Müller

(6 December 1823 – 28 October 1900) was a British philologist and Orientalist of German origin. He was one of the founders of the Western academic disciplines of Indian studies and religious studies. Müller wrote both scholarly and popular works on the subject of Indology. The Sacred Books of the East, a 50-volume set of English translations, was prepared under his direction. He also promoted the idea of a Turanian family of languages.

Academic career

In 1850 Müller was appointed deputy Taylorian professor of modern European languages at Oxford University. In the following year, at the suggestion of Thomas Gaisford, he was made an honorary M.A. and a member of the college of Christ Church, Oxford. On succeeding to the full professorship in 1854, he received the full degree of M.A. by Decree of Convocation. In 1858 he was elected to a life fellowship at All Souls’ College.

He was defeated in the 1860 election for the position of Boden Professor of Sanskrit, which was a “keen disappointment” to him. Müller was far better qualified for the post than the other candidate (Monier Monier-Williams), but Müller’s broad theological views, Lutheranism, German birth, and lack of practical first-hand knowledge of India spoke against him. After the election he wrote to his mother, “all the best people voted for me, the Professors almost unanimously, but the vulgus profanum made the majority”.

Later in 1868, Müller became Oxford’s first professor of comparative philology, a position founded on his behalf. He held this chair until his death, although he retired from its active duties in 1875.

Montgomery Farm – Intelligence Service – Handcuff Dream 07-03-2020

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I am somehow viewing our old house in Surrey, Montgomery’s Farm. I can see our landlord he is being interviewed by several official looking people concerning me. He says, “As far as I know they were polite, well behaved and generally liked. Then one day they pretty much upped sticks and disappeared. Nobody knew they were planning to do this !!”

I look down and see that our landlord has with him a dog with two heads.

Later...

I am, for whatever reason, staying in a large country house, a mansion with reddish bricks and very grand. It looks out across open fields and a valley. I can see woodland on the side of the hill on the far side of the valley. The house is set in the UK.

I am in the kitchen cooking a ratatouille style dish with courgettes and tomatoes. Two men and a woman arrive at the door. The men are wearing long trench coats in beige. Someone ushers them in to the kitchen and they start talking to me while I am cooking. They are asking me how come I am here. To which I reply that there is no simple answer. The men say that they are officials and have the right to know.

Pretty soon two other people turn up dressed smartly and with them are uniformed police. There is one of them who is the leader and he is from the Intelligence Services. They come into the kitchen and the tone gets more severe. I put some prawns in the pan. The leader says that security are going to restrain me. A policeman comes forward and handcuffs me. He attaches the other end of the handcuffs to a four poster bed. The woman comes with me bringing my pan and sits with me on the bed. They allow me to eat and I share some of my meal with the woman. I note that the prawns are not fully cooked. I ask her what her role in this. She is a police medical officer and may assess me.

I say to her that I need a piss. The policeman undoes my cuff from the bed and cuffs me to the female medical officer. She is now wearing a very blue dress which was hidden below her coat. I note that she will “stand out” in thew gents toilets. She is unfazed. We then (somehow) enter some gents toilets. It is busy and all the cubicles are taken. I am wearing a white t-shirt and around my middle, sarong style, is a white towel.

I go over to a long metal urinal and let the towel fall. I take a piss without using my hands with the woman stood next to me. It is a bit splashy. I then bend down to pick up the towel which I, with her assistance, wrap around my waist.

We go back to the room with the four poster bed and I am again attached. The woman suggests that I am going to be transferred. I will need some trousers. These are bought for me and I wear them.

The “intelligence” leader comes over and starts to ask me questions. His tone is combative and suspicious. He is asking me about various transfers of money and companies held in my name. I have absolutely no idea what he is talking about. It becomes clear that they are trying to frame me for some fraud so that they can take me back. The demeanour of the woman changes from sympathetic to cold.

They move over to one side of the room to chat in a huddle. I lift my hands up and when I bring them down the cuffs have vanished. Nobody notices. I can see some double swing doors, lab style, which lead into the back corridors of The Royal Institution.

I guess that if I can make it through the doors, I will be able to lose them in the labyrinthine corridors which I know well.

I start to move towards the doors and pass a side room. I glance in and the woman is now dressed in medical scrubs. She is operating on someone on a table. She sees me and raises the alarm. I make a dash for it and get through the double doors.

Several men start chasing me and someone is pushing a trolley down the corridor with chemicals on. I hurdle the trolley and head off down the corridor. The trolley stops, temporarily, my pursuers. They continue after me. One of them is wearing a full face shield and ventilator. I know there is no danger but he is afraid of the chemicals. I shout to him that there is no need and that it is safe.

I continue on and they chase me. We come to a dead end room. I am cornered. I see some blue foam pipe insulation several feet long. It is very soft and flexible. As they approach, I hit them on the head with it, in turn. It does no harm but appears to comedically stop them in their tracks.

The dream ends and I awake needing a piss.

  • I am about to cook ratatouille for dinner. Let’s hope I am not interrupted!! 😊

Royal Institution – Anál nathrach – Silver Bullet – Dream 27-01-2024

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This dream is top end strange and perhaps re-presents an occult attack carried out on me.

The dream starts with a knowing that in group situations there is always one who lets the evil thoughts and emotions in. That person is usually of the number three and so it was in the past. The weak point for temptation is always the West and the people of that predilection.

It continues to a visual image of a building which I know to be The Royal Institution of Great Britain. Someone has gotten past security and is rampaging around the building. I quickly run about the building to see if it has the old back passages which only someone who lives there would know. It does not. I am with the pool of back office workers and secretaries. We close the door and lock it.

We hear a noise outside. A young blonde American woman who works for the CIA goes to look through the peep hole. The attacker looks back and she tries to stab it with a long pin. It does not work. She runs past me.

The door bursts open and the only partially human attacker comes in. I struggle with it physically. It is much stronger then me. It throws me around and rips a large radiator off the wall. I grab a small climbing ice pick off a desk. It presses me against the wall with the radiator and is starting to crush me. I start to hit its left hand with the ice pick stabbing it and drawing blood. The attacker does not seem to worry. I can see its right hand too and re-adjust to attack it. I can feel my ribs getting crushed.

I start to chant in deep voice getting ever deeper and stronger.

Anál nathrach,

orth’ bháis’s bethad,

do chél dénmha

 It is the charm of making.

I chant it over and over. Suddenly the radiator drops and the attacker is transformed into a shiny silver decorative candlestick. It is sparkly and there are dangly decorations. One of the ladies goes over to touch it. I tell her not to because it is evil which is still cooling down.

I am completely aware that I am dreaming and am somewhat surprised that I am chanting the charm of making in a dream.

I am now outside in a fenced park. I can see a large lithe man with silver grey hair and I know that the second wave of the attack is coming. He heads straight for me and we fight. Again, he is way stronger than me. I try to chant.

Anál nathrach,

orth’ bháis’s bethad,

do chél dénmha

This has little or no effect because I am nearly exhausted. I am defeated and he and his colleagues start to round everybody up. We are led off towards a small lake in which there is a pontoon. They have with them a young seer with brown curly hair who gives running commentary on the skills and origin of each of the people. Meanwhile the attacker is wiring himself up to the electricity grid. As I near the lake I start to chant again. Water is my element.

Anál nathrach,

orth’ bháis’s bethad,

do chél dénmha

A hand in the water lifts out what looks to be a paper scroll. I take it and it unfurls into a rectangular shield with a handle. I know this shield will protect me from the bolts which the attacker may send.

We find ourselves on the pontoon. He starts to transform into a boat in which to carry us off.

One of his crew shouts out that the sniper is coming.

I can see that this is true and that he is a nagal’s courier already known to me.

The scout says that they need to take the sniper seriously because he as large .6 calibre armour piercing rounds.  The main attacker regains humanoid shape.

He takes me with him in the general direction of the sniper. The sniper is loading his single shot rifle and taking pot shots. As we get very close. He goes to load the rifle and with his other hand lobs me a bullet which I catch.

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Whilst the attacker is focused on the sniper. I throw the bullet like a dart at him and it embeds in his chest. There is a sort of ripple in his fabric of the world. The bullet is stuck like a dart.

I wake up and take a visit to the bathroom. It is 7:17 AM.

I try to revisit the dream.

I am back to the scene where I throw the bullet. I can see that it has penetrated a little further into the attacker.

I can now see the face of the “real” human being causing the attack. The image is very clear and I can summon that to conscience now at will. The image changes to the back of his head. Where the cervical spine meets the cranium there is a fair sized yellow “X”. I know that all I have to do it project some energy here and his head will explode in real life. I send a little energy just to establish the connection but refrain from attack-defence. I will store the information should I need it later.

The scene changes and I am in the garden by the greenhouse.  I look towards plug hole corner the Northeast and I can see a brilliant rainbow which is reflected in the waters of the pond.

I wake up and think, “bloody hell that was a whopper”.

As a protective measure I visualize a full manifestation of Vajrapani in wrathful mode and “place” copies of him at various strategic points around the garden. I also reconstruct the reflective dome of indigo-blue around the house. Any magic will be reflected back at the source amplified.