ante diem xiv kalends june 2003 c.e. The first setting was someplace in the middle east. I was in a crowd of people going to visit a tourist site, the remains of a Roman coliseum, which was becoming more popular than any of the religious sites. The crowd was lined up starting at the top of the coliseum and spiralling down into the coliseum to the entrance which led into an ancient passageway once used only by the gladiators and animals. From there the tourists would work their way back up and out into the street. A level below mine were a bunch of British hooligans who thought it was the height of humor to spit at everyone else while shoving their way towards the front of the line. The spitting was spectacular at times, a big green, wet mist rocketing up towards unsuspecting people who would turn around and throw their shoes vengefully at the thugs. I was ignored by these shenanigans and I tried to pretend to be as oblivious as possible while keeping myself ready to find cover at any moment. Below in the center of the coliseum was an ancient ticket booth, it had a thick bronze door which shone as brightly as it did when its forge. There was something important about it but I heard the folks ahead and behind me commenting it was merely used as a storehouse for toilet paper and cleaner. I started to make my way forward, being less obtrusive than the British hooligans, until I was nearing the cooler shadows. There was nothing but carnage down there with people being crushed, dead people with their heads stuck between cracks in the wall and limbs jutting from under large stone edifices. I climbed atop one of the edifices and lifted the giant stone, which was four feet wide and twelve feet high, where I found even more bodies lying in a pool of black blood. The hooligans did this and they had already made their getaway. Later I was told the British government was doing something but nobody was seeing results in bringing those bald headed limeys to justice. I retired to the mansion. The mansion has huge mahogany bookshelves that were richly deserving of bearing gargoyles on the top shelf but those remained bare of books or any other knickknacks. The living room was very dark and spooky but bore no signs of haunting or other supernatural activity. I retired to a small hallway with a florist's refrigerator along one wall that had these deep violet jack in the pulpits. The flowers were big, about the size of my fist and growing on seven foot stems. They were for Dee, if she was ever going to love me then these flowers would clinch it and I'd never have to worry about being put aside or ignored again. I got out my digital camera, blocked the light source behind me with my black t-shirts and started taking pictures so I'd remember where I could find these blossoms. Dee was back in the main room wearing only a button-down white business shirt that was buttoned every other button to a nice effect. The obvious happened. Sleep Spot did her kitty from Porlock routine twice last night and the previous dream is from after she stopped her yowling and sniffing my face with her wee little whiskers. I fell asleep around eleven like an old man and woke up around twelve. I proceeded to waste the rest of the day searching for a female tropius, grass/flying pokemon, and spending a wee bit of time with Chumky. Since Spot got extra wet food today I gave a package of wet food to Chumky. NPR Last week NPR's Morning Edition presented a week long feature on FCC deregulation. It was highly critical of networks like ClearChannel which are spreading like a fungus and completely run by computers giving the same programming that you can hear in any other podunk midwestern town. What I found to be infuriating was the fact that they couldn't see how NPR is doing the same thing just on a smaller scale. KRCC doesn't do local news or have anything that says "Hey, we represent Colorado Springs" because that's what NPR requires for a station to remain an NPR station. Of course NPR has ads for pottery classes and when authors come to speak at Colorado College but that's not news. Of course some people are paying for NPR and this reinforces their conviction that NPR is doing something right for the people. There isn't any good radio in Colorado Springs. No wonder why Jaybird and maribou have a huge collection of CDs.