From 2/6/2004 ( my final day working at Microsoft Corporation as the known official Chief Deputy United States Marshal Kerry Wayne Burgess and the deputy director of the United States Marshals Service and the active duty United States Marine Corps brigadier general circa 2004 ) To 2/2/2012 ( --- ) is 2918 days
From 1/29/1993 ( RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 - premiere US film "Sniper" ) To 2/2/2012 ( --- ) is 6943 days
I saw her when I was walking through that bank or post office or whatever it was. The dream was long time ago but I feel certain that she was the only person I visualized as I was walking through the building. That is the only time I can recall where I actually visualized that specific person in a dream.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: Posted by H.V.O.M at 11:22 PM Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Galaxy
After doing some checking around I decided to make this note about a dream I just awoke from. Unlike other times lately, I was clearly aware of a four-digit number that was present in the dream.
This time, as last time, the number was for a combination lock. Also this time, as last time, I was worried about forgetting the number so I was thinking of writing it down on the inside fabric of my shoes and I saw a pair of shoes that had another four-digit number written inside it but I cannot now recall that number. I had a similar dream recently about a combination padlock, as you see in some locker rooms, or that is commonly sold in a lot of stores in the United States, but in that previous dream, for a padlock on a bicycle, I never did know the precise number.
Today the number was '2918.'
I was in some kind of locker room. Things happened before I got to my locker that I cannot now recall. I think the first thing I noted was the combination code for that lock, which now that I think about it is not the standard code for that common kind of combination lock. Then I might have noticed the locker was already opened and the lock wasn't even on my locker. That notion was reinforced after I woke up and sat down at my desk and checked my email and I had an email notifying me that a password I used for a website had been possibly compromised and the website was sending me a new password. I wonder about a phising attempt but it seems legitimate.
Somewhere in my locker, perhaps on top of it, but maybe inside of it, I found a red folder. There was no writing on the outside of the folder and I didn't open it. I folded it in half vertically. I saw the folder in my hands and there was a lot of loose change on top of it and those coins might have been rare coins. I also saw a wristwatch among the coins on top of the folder but the face was obscured.
I walked over to a nearby locker and I was looking for a guy named "Lindsay" because I knew, for some reason, in the dream that folder belonged to him. Another guy walked up and I asked him about "Lindsay" and I don't recall our precise dialog but I might have been trying to establish if that was he locker I was standing in front of. I don't recall what the other guy said to me as he stood at his locker but he told me I was "desperate." I said "What?" and he told me again I was "desperate." I went back over to my locker and I think I left that red folder on the top of the row of lockers that I think was "Lindsay's."
Back at my locker, I saw clothes inside I needed to take with me. Most needed to be washed but I saw a pair of dress slacks hanging up that I wanted to take with me. I saw at least two different pairs of running shoes and that seemed interesting for some reason. I started filling the laundry bag. I heard someone out of sight in the locker room mention the Marines. I spent a lot of time in the dream just trying to tie the drawstring on the seabag but it didn't seem to need to be tied.
I thought more about that dream after waking up and decided specifically to note it here because I clearly was aware of a four-digit code for a combination lock.
I noted some details about that after looking around. One interesting detail is a galaxy named NGC 2918 but I don't know much about it at this point. I first started looking for a star that is 2918 light-years away but I haven't found out yet is such object exists.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 31 January 2012 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 08/02/09 1:13 AM
I have been trying to fall asleep for a while now but I don't feel the least bit sleepy and it is worse because my leg aches. So anyway, I just now suddenly remembered a dream I had just before waking up last time, or at I think it was just before waking up, but I know it was the last time I was asleep and I woke up I guess about 8:00 AM yesterday. There were several sequences in the dream but I only remember now this one scene that I wanted to write about after I got up. As I write this now I think to myself that I woke up after the dream I wanted to write about and I might have gone back to sleep for a short time because I was thinking about how I could no longer visualize the details I wanted to remember from the dream. The dream seemed to be of me in a bank and I was given a key to a safety deposity box and I could clearly see the four digit number on the key and then I could see that I was looking at a wall with the doors of a group of safety deposit boxes and one of those doors matched the number on the key. I found myself thinking after I woke up though that these setting seemed to precisely match what I would see if I was in a post office though and I even thought during the dream that whatever was in my safety deposit box was getting more packed because apparently information was being put into it and that matches precisely to a mailbox in a U.S. Post Office. But yet, the notion lingers that it had something to do with a safety deposit box and that remains as an important notion despite the fact that my visualizations seem to match with the post office. So I was standing there and I clearly saw the number on the key but there was some dialog in my mind that I was not going to open that box at that time and so I was walking through the notional bank office but that visually seemed to be a post office and I was going into another room and I cannot now remember what happened there. It seemed there was another storage locker that I was going in there for but I cannot remember anything else except some scenes as I walked around through the structures in that bank or post office. I found myself wondering several times after waking about that number on that key and I think it was '6943' but there was some uncertainty in my mind after waking up because I could no longer visualize it although I feel certain that I did visualize it clearly during the dream.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 08/02/09 1:28 AM
As I turned to start running that number I see that I had already typed it in but I am confused about whether I typed it in there in the past few minutes just as I jumped out of bed to write about or if I typed it in there yesterday morning, which is vaguely familiar, and then I forgot to come back to it.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 02 August 2009 excerpt ends]
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 07/31/09 10:17 PM
I wonder if I created that dialog in the 1996 "Independence Day" about how "Hiller" would not get to fly the space shuttle if he married a stipper because I was planning to launch my final mission to date on 2/11/1997. But the dialog I think is about Kerry Burgess and how he was going to marry a woman who worked as a stripper. I had a consistent and extensive line of thought recently that the woman is Lindsay Dawn Mackenzie but then I looked her age and she seems too young. Her age could be wrong though and to make her look a couple years younger.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 07/31/09 10:21 PM
I was thinking later that as Thomas Reagan, I was introducing Kerry Burgess to women that my talent agency represents and Mackenzie was one of the women he was dating. I have no idea why this all contradicts my memory.
But then, yes, I do understand: I don't have the true memory of Kerry Burgess because I am not Kerry Burgess. I am living the life of a version of Kerry Burgess that I constructed from his real life and from a cover story I created for him. It is no different than these other people I write about, just that Kerry Burgess did not have a public persona.
JOURNAL ARCHIVE: 07/31/09 10:26 PM
She is from Britain, too, I vaguely recall reading a long time ago. That would make sense that I would set up Kerry Burgess with her around the time of the 1994 "Princess Caraboo" and especially important the film "Timecop" that premiered the same day and with his wife's confusion about why he looked older than he should. I also recall that Mackenzie started off as a "Page 2" girl which is something about a newspaper in Britain that has a photo at different times of a woman with her bare chest exposed and so that makes even more sense.
[JOURNAL ARCHIVE 31 July 2009 excerpt ends]
[ Bill Gates-Microsoft-Corbis-Nazi the cowardly International Terrorist Organization violently against the United States of America actively instigate insurrection and subversive activity against the United States of America with all Bill Gates-Microsoft-Corbis-Nazi staff partners contributors employees contractors lawyers managers of any capacity as severely treasonous criminal accomplices and that are active unlawful obstructions, combinations, or assemblages, or rebellion against the authority of the United States that actively make it impracticable to enforce the laws of the United States in the United States and in the Severely Treasonous and Criminally Rebellious State of Washington by the ordinary course of judicial proceedings ]
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0108171/releaseinfo
IMDb
The Internet Movie Database
Release dates for
Sniper (1993)
Country Date
USA 29 January 1993
UK 26 February 1993
http://www.e-reading.org.ua/bookreader.php/97924/King_-_The_Langoliers.html
Stephen King
The Langoliers [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
Brian tore his eyes away from the sky — which was already showing signs of light again — long enough to take a quick glance first at the INS readout and then at the circle on his chart. They were approaching the far side of the circle now. If the time-rip was still here, they should see it soon. If they didn’t, he supposed he would have to take over the controls and send them circling back for another pass at a slightly different altitude and on a slightly different heading. It would play hell on their fuel situation, which was already tight, but since the whole thing was probably hopeless anyway, it didn’t matter very
“Brian?” Nick’s voice was unsteady. “Brian? I think I see something.”
14
Bob Jenkins reached the rear of the plane, made an about-face, and started slowly back up the aisle again, passing row after row of empty seats. He looked at the objects that lay in them and on the floor in front of them as he passed: purses... pairs of eyeglasses... wristwatches... a pocket-watch... two worn, crescent-shaped pieces of metal that were probably heel-taps... dental fillings... wedding rings...
Something is wrong.
Yes? Was that really so, or was it only his overworked mind nagging fiercely over nothing? The mental equivalent of a tired muscle which will not stop twitching?
Leave it, he advised himself, but he couldn’t.
If something really is amiss, why can’t you see it? Didn’t you tell the boy that deduction is your meat and drink? Haven’t you written forty mystery novels, and weren’t a dozen of those actually quite good? Didn’t Newgate Callender call The Sleeping Madonna “a masterpiece of logic” when he
Bob Jenkins came to a dead stop, his eyes widening. They fixed on a portside seat near the front of the cabin. In it, the man with the black beard was out cold again, snoring lustily. Inside Bob’s head, the shy animal at last began to creep fearfully into the light. Only it wasn’t small, as he had thought. That had been his mistake. Sometimes you couldn’t see things because they were too small, but sometimes you ignored things because they were too big, too obvious.
The Sleeping Madonna.
The sleeping man.
He opened his mouth and tried to scream, but no sound came out. His throat was locked. Terror sat on his chest like an ape. He tried again to scream and managed no more than a breathless squeak.
Sleeping madonna, sleeping man.
They, the survivors, had all been asleep.
Now, with the exception of the bearded man, none of them were asleep.
Bob opened his mouth once more, tried once more to scream, and once more nothing came out.
15
“Holy Christ in the morning,” Brian whispered.
The time-rip lay about ninety miles ahead, off to the starboard side of the 767’s nose by no more than seven or eight degrees. If it had drifted, it had not drifted much; Brian’s guess was that the slight differential was the result of a minor navigational error.
It was a lozenge-shaped hole in reality, but not a black void. It cycled with a dim pink-purple light, like the aurora borealis. Brian could see the stars beyond it, but they were also rippling. A wide white ribbon of vapor was slowly streaming either into or out of the shape which hung in the sky. It looked like some strange, ethereal highway.
We can follow it right in, Brian thought excitedly. It’s better than an ILS beacon!
“We’re in business!” he said, laughed idiotically, and shook his clenched fists in the air.
“It must be two miles across,” Nick whispered. “My God, Brian, how many other planes do you suppose went through?”
“I don’t know,” Brian said, “but I’ll bet you my gun and dog that we’re the only one with a shot at getting back.”
He opened the intercom.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve found what we were looking for.” His voice crackled with triumph and relief. “I don’t know exactly what happens next, or how, or why, but we have sighted what appears to be an extremely large trapdoor in the sky. I’m going to take us straight through the middle of it. We’ll find out what’s on the other side together. Right now I’d like you all to fasten your seatbelts and—”
That was when Bob Jenkins came pelting madly up the aisle, screaming at the top of his lungs. “No! No! We’ll all die if you go into it! Turn back! You’ve got to turn back!”
Brian swung around in his seat and exchanged a puzzled look with Nick.
Nick unbuckled his belt and stood up. “That’s Bob Jenkins,” he said. “Sounds like he’s worked himself up to a good set of nerves. Carry on, Brian. I’ll handle him.”
“Okay,” Brian said. “Just keep him away from me. I’d hate to have him grab me at the wrong second and send us into the edge of that thing.”
He turned off the autopilot and took control of the 767 himself. The floor tilted gently to the right as he banked toward the long, glowing slot ahead of them. It seemed to slide across the sky until it was centered in front of the 767’s nose. Now he could hear a sound mixing with the drone of the jet engines — a deep, throbbing noise, like a huge diesel idling. As they approached the river of vapor — it was flowing into the hole, he now saw, not out of it — he began to pick up flashes of color travelling within it: green, blue, violet, red, candy pink. It’s the first real color I’ve seen in this world, he thought.
Behind him, Bob Jenkins sprinted through the first-class section, up the narrow aisle which led to the service area... and right into Nick’s waiting arms.
“Easy, mate,” Nick soothed. “Everything’s going to be all right now.”
“No!” Bob struggled wildly, but Nick held him as easily as a man might hold a struggling kitten. “No, you don’t understand! He’s got to turn back! He’s got to turn back before it’s too late!”
Nick pulled the writer away from the cockpit door and back into first class. “We’ll just sit down here and belt up tight, shall we?” he said in that same soothing, chummy voice. “It may be a trifle bumpy.”
To Brian, Nick’s voice was only a faint blur of sound. As he entered the wide flow of vapor streaming into the time-rip, he felt a large and immensely powerful hand seize the plane, dragging it eagerly forward. He found himself thinking of the leak on the flight from Tokyo to LA, and of how fast air rushed out of a hole in a pressurized environment.
It’s as if this whole world — or what is left of it — is leaking through that hole, he thought, and then that queer and ominous phrase from his dream recurred again: SHOOTING STARS ONLY.
The rip lay dead ahead of the 767’s nose now, growing rapidly.
We’re going in, he thought. God help us, we’re really going in.
1996 film "Star Trek: First Contact" DVD video: [ RACKETEER INFLUENCED AND CORRUPT ORGANIZATIONS US Title 18 ]
00:40:05
Dr. Zefram Cochrane: [ laughing ] That's a trick. How'd you do that?
LaForge: It's your telescope.
Troi: That's our ship, the Enterprise.
Dr. Zefram Cochrane: And, uh, Lily's up there right now?
Troi: That's right.
Dr. Zefram Cochrane: Can I talk to her?
Riker: We've lost contact with the Enterprise. We don't know why yet.
Dr. Zefram Cochrane: So, what is it you want me to do?
Riker: Simple. Conduct your warp flight tomorrow morning just as you planned.
Dr. Zefram Cochrane: Why tomorrow morning?
Riker: Because at eleven o'clock an alien ship will begin passing through this solar system.
Dr. Zefram Cochrane: Alien. You mean extraterrestrials? More bad guys?
Troi: Good guys. They're on a survey mission. They have no interest in Earth. Too primitive.
Dr. Zefram Cochrane: Oh.
http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0108171/quotes
IMDb
The Internet Movie Database
Memorable quotes for
Sniper (1993)
[Last lines]
Richard Miller: [to Beckett] There's always Montana.
