{A Dream: The Spiritual Knights Capitalist}[20th May 1989]

[Redbook6:129-131)][19890520:1632b]{A Dream: The Spiritual Knights Capitalist}[20th May 1989]

19890520.1632

[continued]

This morning I dreamt that I was back in an Army-type environment, although not necessarily uniformed; there were hundreds of men. I got up from a meal and thereby lost my place. After wandering about (other things may have happened which I have forgotten) pretending to be busy, and after an address by an officer commanding a unit in which he made a joke out of calling the (their?) Drop Zone a Killing Ground, I found myself walking along[,] with an older man following me and making pointing gestures towards me to attract the attention of others who were active in fields sloping down to the road. I dropped back beside him, and told him that I had seen what he was doing by watching his shadow (Although this was correct, I think that the dream may have shown me this scene both from my personal point of view and from an editorial* perspective).

He did not reply to this; but a short while later he verbally attacked me. It is very unfortunate that I cannot recall exactly what we said.** His attack was, I think, about the kind of person I was; but I launched back with surprising confidence. I then asked him whether he was so-&-so, the boxer, and he confirmed, with another disparaging remark, that he was.

He then took me to an even older man and made us both stand with our arms straight ahead and fists clenched so that we just did not touch each other’s faces.*** When I asked what this was all about, he explained that I had to throw my punch and block my opponent’s faster than my opponent. Instantly I blocked his first punch and apologised for not throwing my own, as my opponent’s left arm was still down; but he maintained that I had in fact thrown my punch, presumably so instinctively fast that I was unaware of it. I then threw another and blocked his again.****

The game then broke off with my first acquaintance saying to my sparring partner something along the lines of: ‘You’re too good for them, Eve’.

I then became aware of a board on which books were displayed for sale; one of them, before it was covered, bore the title: ‘The Spiritual Knights Capitalist’ (or just possibly ‘The Spiritual Capitalist Knights’ – the only word I am unsure of is ‘Knights’). It is because of this title – which this morning was embedded in my mind, together with the conversation leading up to it – that I recount this dream in such detail.

*[ie, presumably, third-person narrative]

**I could this morning; but [W] and I are both suffering from a disgusting recurrent tummy-bug, apparently caught from a sick orphan lamb which we were given by our neighbour, [FN], a man in whom, as [W] said yesterday, the borderline between ignorance and malice is often hard to define.)

***[with each others’ fists, presumably]

****[The writer first boxed at his primary level school, without the option.]

[continues]

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