I couldn't get out of bed this morning, so put on Sonic Youth's Daydream Nation - specifically the openning Teenage Riot. Fans of ageing alt-rock icons will appreciate the irony of it taking a teenage riot to get me out of bed.

This also disturbed a dream - a big sprawling bastard of a dream, which was about Glastonbury festival set in a sprawling, ramshackle gothic mansion. Most of it faded away upon waking - but the lingering image was sitting in a rain-dashed alcove talking to someone who was clearly a tramp-like Bill Hicks. Except, as he explains, he's not. He's a parallel dimension incarnation of Hicks.

I say that's wonderful.

He clearly doesn't.

"It's no fun being an Incarnation of Bill Hicks after Bill Hicks has died. Everyone knows he's dead."

Which I took to mean that people can have fame and resonance /across/ dimensions, and incarnations are not all equally as important. Sounds like some kind of Neitzche Original Text thing applied to personality and fame - that even in a multiverse of possibilities, the platonic mold is paramount. And what happens after the archetype is dead to all the copies? Well - they're clearly of less import. If the primary defining characteristic of Bill Hicks is of a doomed, brilliant and - most importantly - dead comedian, a live version has no validity.

Waking and thinking about this, I'm thinking that Richey Manic would be a similar case - in fact a Catch 22. The primary characteristic of the Richey Manic thought-form is that no-one knows where he is. If he reappears, he wouldn't be the "Richey Manic" anymore - he'd be something else entirely.

But anyway.

I think I'm going to make this blog public now. The website's going to take forever to do, and this is an idle enough distraction as it is.

Hello everyone.