unemployed poet, river of blood, Russian spy, green Wolf Moon, Groo the Wanderer dreams

   Dream diary update. Saturday early AM I had a dream about being an unemployed poet ( not so different from reality, since I'm an unemployed scientist.) The dream-weather was weird and surreal with a 60 mph wind from the Northwest. I really wanted to remember some of my dream-poetry since I was quite taken with it even though it was short and childish.
   Saturday night I fell asleep after my nephew left around 9 pm. I woke up around 11:30 pm after a troubled dream about being helplessly carried by the currents in my own arteries. I was a tiny swimmer in giant rivers of blood with great spouts and a huge waterfall where my heart was supposed to be located.

   Sunday night I fell asleep after watching the new Season 2 opener for Downton Abbey/PBS. I was extraordinarily distracted by my stray thoughts during the second half. I dreamed I was a spy again, this time for Russia.
   This morning after another restless night I ate breakfast and fell into bed with Skanky cat. I had a very restful dream about cloud flyovers with a huge green moon overhead just before sunrise. Once again I woke up after about 150 minutes. Coincidentally, there is a January full moon tonight, i.e. a Wolf Moon. I think I knew this even though I failed to realize it consciously until the weatherman said it later on Chicago's WGN News at midday. This dream subject shouldn't be surprising since I remember thinking about how beautiful wolves are while watching Nature/PBS Sunday evening. They made the point that North American wolves wouldn't be coming back now without the EPA.

   This afternoon after our walk I fell asleep in a nap while rocking Skanky cat in the recliner.I dreamed I was Groo the Warrior, happily drinking and whoring and slaughtering my way across Medieval Europe.
   This dream subject surprised me, though it shouldn't have. I used to always dream I was Groo the Wanderer after falling asleep reading issues of MAD magazine. Yesterday I tried looking online for examples of Sergio Aragonés work doing toons of Occupy Wall Street protests for MAD's December 2011 issue #513. It was to no avail since MAD's business model is to aggressively censor digital media. I remember how they used to keep phonograph tech alive with little plastic 45 LP cardboard inserts. Too bad I can't really afford their $6/issue fee these days for their rag.

TM, deity, alpha wave music, sunsets dreams

   Dream diary update. I haven't tried to remember my dreams much lately. I was worried that I might get winter-depressed about them. So I tried to forget about them as soon as I woke up. Its been Sunny and mild temperatures outside all year. I realize now there was no need for such precautions. Still waking up always feels good. As if my mind were its own prison and thinking while awake has more freedom now.
   Tuesday evening I dreamed about Transcendental Meditation, sandpaintings and Ayurvedas. This is probably due to my awareness from watching cspan that the Iowa TM college founded by the Beatles yogi teacher, Mahareshi Mahesh Yogi, endorsed Ron Paul for the Iowa caucuses that day. I pictured them praying for him and for World peace before I passed out.

   Wednesday nights dreams were the strangest this week. I dreamed I was a god again. When I woke up I had another injury. This time instead of a deep tissue injury from clawing at my own stomach, I had a severe sprain on my left ankle. Its only now getting better.
   Thursday nights dreams were filled with alpha wave music. I could feel my heart rhythm synch up with the repeating beat patterns. There also was Buddhist monks in Japan ringing a gong for the New Year. I realize that happened almost a week ago, but it took that long to reach my dreams.

   Tonight I fell asleep listening to the Gershwin concert on Great Performances/St Louis PBS. Its a really good one:: Herbie Hancock, Gustavo Dudamel and the LA Phil Celebrate Gershwin. I also caught the replay on my local PBS station after I awoke. My nephew really wanted to see it with me but I guess our walk and games today wore him out so he passed out at 5 pm . I dreamed about sunsets with my cats playing around me.

Field commander, University student, Faster-than-light dreams

   Dream diary update. Tonight's dreams are fresh in my mind, so I want to record some more details. Earlier I dreamed about being some sort of active field commander, like General Patton. This pretentious dream idea may be from the revelation by mom Wednesday night that she had used some genealogy web to trace our ancestry back to an English king from Northern Scotland (, i.e., a Highlander lol.) I asked her if we were still related to James Madison and she said yes.
   Just now I had a dream in which I was back in classes, which were much like Purgatory. The first classes were in Advanced Inorganic Chemistry and Advanced Biochemistry. I did predictably well in them, since my natural eccentricity is not a liability in the lab and Chemistry was really my gig at University anyway. The last class was filled with math geniuses of varying nationalities. I got the impression they looked down on me a bit. I tried to hide the fact that I hadn't done the take-home quiz, and that I had brought raw meat with me in my backpack in case I became ravenous. During class he had me deal with some chemical hazard that was in his chair. I stood and reached for the light at the ceiling and it filled all of space as I awoke.
   Awake, I immediately went to door to let Smoky kitten in from the cold and he scurried up squawking to me. I had reminded myself to let him back in before passing out on the couch with the other 2, Skanky cat and Snooky kitten.
    In my dream before class I had briefly joined 2 other genii to discuss a theoretical framework to explain faster-than-light particles by using limits in an affine space to describe spacetime itself.

In the waking world I've been toying with the idea for weeks now that the speed of light is only a subjective limit that changes when one becomes aware of 11-dimensional reality in M-theory. I was unsure until now whether the concept has any merits. ;)

Asian contractor, deadly puzzles, jolly embalmer dreams

Dream diary update. My dreams lately have been real gruesome horror show stuff where I usually awaken alert at exactly 4:30 AM with my heart thumping. Wednesday morning I had a dream where I was helping North Korean spies and Chinese Security agents by performing autopsies on other Asians. Most of the corpses were fresh but not intact, of both sexes. I was basically an independent contractor they brought in to try and explain what killed them and tore them apart.

   Thursday morning I had a dream that was all puzzle boxes and deadly trick rooms. The puzzle boxes were different from the Hell-summoning puzzles from Clive Barker's Hellraiser series. Nevertheless there was something diabolic about them and the way they completely fascinated me. Much of the dream was about my careful studying of every detail. The trick rooms were much like the trick rooms in the Saw film series.

   Friday morning (today) I had a dream where I was an embalmer, presumably to handle the wet works from the previous dreams. This one wasn't that bad. I was happily married with a young daughter looking forwards to Christmas. Work was slow so in the dream I played cards a lot with the guys at work who ran the incinerator.

The idea behind this dream is a personal sense of cosmic irony I think. I'm not naturally gregarious. I don't have a family of my own other than a few cats that I take care of for my mom. Finally I don't plan on being embalmed myself or to pay for a full burial. I've always planned near the end to go off by myself in the woods and share myself with predators, ie cats snakes, wolves, and crows, etc.

Sexy contortionist costume contest, Andrea Boccelli, Nicola Benedetti, Despicable Me dreams

Dream diary update. I should have made this diary entry yesterday, but I waited too long. I'll try to remember details of dreams from wake-ups this past weekend and today. The most memorable dream was a sex dream I had yesterday. I dreamed that I was involved in a game of best costume party dress-up with sexy prank Halloween costumes trying to out-do another guy. We dressed up as giant vibrators, with blow-up sex dolls, as doctor naughty with nurse nasty, and in all other sorts of amusing & contorted sex positions with accessories. The outlandish arrangements got more and more ridiculous until I awoke on the couch with a hard boner & laughing my ass off.

Two pieces of music have haunted my dreams this weekend. The first is from Great Performances last week when they had Andrea Boccelli & friends in Central Park. The song I dreamed about the most this past weekend was Boccelli doing Frank Sinatra's "More" with David Foster & trumpeter Chris Botti

Though I initially started out last Wednesday immediately after seeing the concert the first time with dreams about hot Scottish violinist Nicola Benedetti in her duet with Boccelli "En Aranjuez con tu amor"

Here's her 2010 interview with Britain's Daily Mail last year.  Bendetti is a serial heartbreaker so its no wonder I dreamed about her first.
The last piece of music I dreamed about was from the animated film "Despicable Me" which I also caught for the first time this weekend on our bootleg HBO. Of course the song was the catchy main theme "Despicable Me" by record-producer Pharrell Williams.The movie is better than the singing, but it fits well together for a short flick about a flawed genius. I like to think of myself as an evil genius when I'm having a bad savant day, so it makes sense that I would dream about Gru and his boogie music..

Objects, curios, libraries, churches, Oscar Wilde, Marilyn vos Savant dreams

   Dream diary update. My dreams in the last week reminded me about why I started writing this diary. They are filled with fascinating & boringly-detailed objects: Book bags, supplies, library books, video rentals, religious paraphernalia, etc. All of them made up or fake.  One of my educators told me that having this kind of detailed dream is a cardinal sign of giftedness. Perhaps that objectivity is the reason for my past fascination with rose windows?

  I've meant to keep a dream diary for decades. One of my wackier old therapists absolutely insisted I do it. He said that he believed I was almost as smart as Einstein and my dreams proved it. I didn't really believe him even after he administered another IQ test, but I listened to his crazy theories and I tried to get him to relax & party more. Back then I was still in my late teens and I saw myself as a college party animal. The therapy we were using was hypnotism.

    Last week one of favorite TV shows 'Jeopardy!' reminded me of him. The last Double Jeopardy answer in a segment was "What is 'Oneiromancy'?" The reason this reminded me of my hypnotherapist is that back then I didn't see myself as either a genius or as a savant IQ. I believed I was a sort of artistic oneiromancer with some simple depression and chronic addictive personality problems. I didn't tell anyone this because I thought they wouldn't understand. To write my dreams down would be to steal my powers from me, so I refused to keep the dream diary or any diary for my therapists. I also didn't like referring to or documenting my addictive personality or delusions since that would make me vulnerable to threats of legal interventions. Our Westernized police-state society doesn't reward candor.
   Since then I have recanted my wild partying ways and now I see myself as a common garden-variety savant with a slightly-altered brain chemistry that allows me to have some vivid dreams. Perhaps it was from some natural herb or organic poison I ingested when I was a child? When I was younger than 3 I used to run away to be alone in the woods for days around here and I ate a variety of stuff I found there.

    I see myself not as a dream oneiromancer anymore but as just a silly artistic savant with no extralegal addictions or delusions. I use a broad definition of genius as IQ z-score over 140 and 'savant' as z-score over 180. The reason I use these limits is MENSA uses 140 as their membership cut-off and most of the pediatric IQ tests like the Stanford-Binet are unreliable over 184.

I poorly recall my population rank putting me at somewhere between 1:600,000 and 1 in 2-3 million. About the same or slightly lower incidence than your garden-variety Nobel candidate. Unfortunately US society doesn't reward raw scores or savants who make mistakes, so I'd still probably be lucky to find some job as auto mechanic at Wal-mart with just that on my resume. Matchmaker.com and other message board ilk always automatically assigns everyone in my immediate family to the loser bucket, so I didn't bother with a dating profile myself. So much for rankings.
   I have some negative associations with savants after reading prolifically about them as a child. I started by reading the Time Quartet and the Bagthorpe Saga after I turned 7. I quickly moved up from them to reading Will Shakespeare and Oscar Wilde dark comedies over about 3 more years of sleeping in libraries until age 11.

 I never liked being associated with Parade columnist Marilyn vos Savant since I saw her as a sort of egomaniac and talking head. I've met lots of smart folks who aren't paid only to write about how brainy they are by a cheap tabloid rag. Though after arguing with her on the phone (I guessed the numbers ha ha), I conceded that vos Savant received her name not made up by some marketing huckster like PT Barnum but merely by family inheritance of French origin. IMAO It is likely that some ancestor changed the name to 'savant' in a fit of marketing pique but I refuse to accept it as coincidence. Among other things Marilyn is obsessed with protecting her images online and $uing so I'll just embed this harpy pic so you get the idea.

vos Savant has a dear Abby/queen bee column in Parade magazine harping on the countless virtues of Ronald Reagan and on the flaws of her (numerous) male inferior drones. The only thing I agree with her about is that all IQ tests are completely unreliable in the high ranges. Remarkable people named 'savants' are often crippled in some way like 'idiot savant' or 'autistic savant'.

Western society's freak show people. That's why I prefer to not be called a genius since geniuses are mostly well-adjusted cogs in Western civilzation. Geniuses are bland Confucian ultra-conformists with prospering families. I'm a colorful savant & hikikomori who might have been a writer and who may have some marginal prescient ability. Might as well be proud of it.

   So happily there are no longer any prohibitions to my keeping my online dream diary. The main reason I am keeping the diary though, is because Google Blogger wouldn't let me follow anyone without my keeping some sort of marginal blog. I wanted this blog to be creative and challenging but as I expected I am the only one subscribed to it via Facebook NetworkedBlogs application.

Stomach Claw, sleepwalking, Ménage à trois dreams

   When I got up to shower early Monday morning I noticed I had some bad scratch marks on top of some old scars on my lower abdomen that I initially wrote off as a skin condition related to sleeping in my clothes too often. Today since the scratch marks healed somewhat I have found that they exactly fit the three fingers on my left hand. So I was really scratching at my belly during sleep in my dream confusion. This is one of the perils of infrequent somnambulism & having a weak neural block during REM. The only thing I remember about Sunday night's dreams is that they were confusing & unpleasant. That usually means I have a body image distortion in the dream that I dislike or that my mind failed to take control of the dream. I might have been seeing myself as weak or as a girl. Anyway further deduction yields nothing about dream details. Perhaps I was dreaming about the wrestling hold Stomach Claw? Anyway I had gone to bed Sunday night hoping that I would dream about more catgirls. That's a recurring dream I can handle better.

   This morning's dreams were nothing unusual just perverted. In the dream just before waking I remembered being shocked after a girl I met at a punk party proposed I join her and another fellow in a Ménage à trois right away. Coincidentally when I finally got up and flipped through the stations, I found Lifetime movie network was playing a similar scene from the film Heathers. The scene had a very unpleasant ending, since she had led both guys to their deaths. Made me glad I hadn't taken my dream date up on her offer.

   Since that actually happened to me on a blind date many years ago. I thought it barely deserved a mention in the dream diary. Its more a sign of how long its been since I've tried dating or even socializing at all with anybody. Its not always easy living as a hikikomori. Having sleep disturbances more often and a few antisocial dreams is a smaller price to pay than several of the alternatives. Beats working for the meat packing industry for example. Then my dreams would be filled with punching time clocks, rancid animal corpses, guilt, and male sweat.