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I’m so sick I’ve completely lost my voice. I can only make wheezing sounds not unlike a Victorian mansion’s rusty iron gate blown by chilly winds off moonlit, fog-shrouded moors. My head feels like it’s filled with congealed porridge, so I’ll have to watch out for Scottish zombies. It could be a gypsy curse, or because a cat sneezed in my face last week. I may be feverish, but said cat is right now telling me to get on with the news…

Thanks Greg.

Quote of the Day:

Descartes believed the only kind of mind was the conscious mind. Then Freud reinvented the unconscious. Then Jung said it’s not just a personal unconscious but a collective unconscious. Morphic resonance shows us that our very souls are connected with those of others and bound up with the world around us.

Rupert Sheldrake, from an interview with Salon (Nov. 23 1999)