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Wednesday, 14 September 2016


I think I'm very glad I don't have memorable dreams, especially the nightmare variety.

I really enjoyed your nightmare Mike, which is obviously more than you did. I can't say that I am comfortable with the smartphone camera either. The picture that you have posted shows how good they now are though. I guess doggy has been forgiven.

You mentioned Black and White Photography, which is still going strong, still an inspirational read, and the subscription issues are different in that they only have the name of the magazine plus four other words on the front cover.

Aw, that's cute, falling asleep with an iPhone in your hand. (Enough with the teasing. It's not like you're the first one.)

I've found that sleep apnea (OSA) produces some very characteristic dreams. For me, they are similar in structure, though not in the particulars, to what you describe. The longer the episode of non-breathing (and nearer to death), the more nightmarish they become. My own sleep studies have shown episodes lasting as long as a minute. Fortunately, the CPAP has been - literally, I think - a life saver. I'm now on my 3rd CPAP machine (in 17 years), one that records and remembers episodes for 30 days, providing quite useful stats for the sleep therapists. That means that I still "apneate" (my own word), but not at such a severe and nightmarish level. But, I recognize those apnea dreams, when I have them.

Mike, a few years ago you reported on your own sleep apnea. Do you use a CPAP, or some other remediation? Not trying to be intrusive, I just don't like seeing people dying too soon.

My sympathy. I woke this morning and walked into the living room. The cat came out from under the sofa, strolled over and barfed about 3 inches from my bare toes.

But at least did not have nightmares.

So, not so much *shot* on the iphone as sh....


I can relate, though my anxiety dreams have either been about teaching, or when I was younger, working as a line cook (imagine a dream like yours, but with things burning, raw, orders piled up hopelessly...).

Unfortunately I can also relate to 3 am dog diarreah as well. Our border collie once crawled under our bed and had just about the worst runs you can imagine there. The imagery is still vivid, but thankfully the retch-inducing smell is not re-lived in any way when I recall it.

I bet you've had a dream or two about this blog.

Thanks, Mike. A good read, but a grisly twist on the old "didn't study for the exam I forgot I signed up for." I see that XXX copyrighted this piece. Was that your name in the nightmare? Or, worse, does that mean you didn't know your name in the nightmare? I've had one of those ...

That sounds like the kind of stress dream that haunts people sometimes for years after they've left a job or a situation.

We all did school for years, so there are a lot of us who've had that dream where we're walking into a final exam and we suddenly realize that we forgot to study for the test and in fact we forgot to go to any of the classes. Then we wake up screaming.

I also acted in a lot of plays in my time, from elementary school right through adulthood, so I had many nightmares in which I'm about to step onto the stage before a big audience on opening night when I suddenly realized that I've forgotten to memorize any of my lines. Then I wake up screaming.*

I think I've read about other common stress dreams.

So I imagine other magazine editors have had some version of that dream you had last night.

*I miraculously cured myself of that drama nightmare by deciding that if I had that dream again, I'd just carry my script onstage with me and read my lines, saving the day.And I never had that dream again.

Poor Mike! At least you don't have a Roomba.

No doubt this will add to your nightmare, but this photo is my favourite of all your photos that I've seen on this blog. Whimsical, great colours, and the dog's expression kills it.

(And I'm not a huge dog lover, I prefer cats.)

Is there a Canon 5d4? I had the first, but seem to have lost track since and retreated to the 'world of HP5'.

Every time I read an article on promoting my digital photography, being more popular or post processing I lose another fraction of my residual interest.

I could gnash and wail at the nonsense we are prescribed, but any camera can be used to see truly, or even a sketchpad, and there are enough of us around the world to keep you Mike.

As to the poopcident, had one post worming the other morning. You are not alone.

(Another) Mike

I often relate to things you say--I have similar opinions on many things, although I am one of those naturally organized people you often refer to--but never so well as this. I have a different work history, but this is exactly the sort of nightmare I would have.

At my house it would be cat poop.

At least a Roomba wasn't involved....

In four decades of newspapering, I had many versions of this dream: I'm on assignment in a new job, at a new newspaper, in a new city, and I can't find my way to the person I'm supposed to interview. I'm trying to describe this guy to someone when I realize I can't remember what the story is about. And when I head back to the newsroom for help, I can no longer remember the name of the newspaper I now work for....

You're not trying to obliquely say that you think the iPhone 7 is dog sh!t, are you? 🤔

Must of been some dream and maybe you really did scream - you scared Butters sh!tless!

I wish I only had those kind of memory problems in my dreams!

I believe Joe Holmes nailed the dream analogy spot on. In more extreme versions, people find themselves at school, work, or in public in their underwear. Such dreams don't completely cease until well after retirement, if one is lu

Mike you called it a "Canon 5D Make IV".

Very interesting.

I dream like that and remember mine as well. Usually after eating Pepperoni Pizza too late at night. Some times I do it intentionally. Thanks for sharing.

The message is clear: Butter gives a sh*t about the iPhone.

During a period of heavy Carl Jung reading I experienced a weird dream concerning my older sister. She had been unreachable by phone and I was worried about her. She lives in California, and since I live in Florida the miles apart made me even more anxious. In my dream I saw a painting of a woman sleeping in the woods (kinda like "The Sleeping Gypsy" by Henri Rousseau, but with a wooded background) that looked like my sis and she had a cell phone near her resting body. I woke up a bit startled and wondered if what I had been reading triggered something in my imagination. Later that day I heard from my sis after she got a new cell phone. Just plain weird!! I was feeling like what Butters looks to me in your picture -- a bit dumbfounded by it all, and with all that negative space and air floating around me. (Great picture to convey your story.)

And then your pillow was missing.

I generally don't remember the dreams that wake me up. The last one that did ended while I was losing a fight with a zombie Margaret Thatcher.

It may have occurred soon after I had finished eating the central prop used in this picture:

Hi, Mike,
Love the photo of Butters. Ain't it grand when your brain works you over in your sleep? I mean, what did I do to me to deserve this? The brain is a weird, squishy, oddly vindictive jug of tapioca. Here's another take on iPhone photography. http://www.soundimageplus.com/soundimageplus/2016/9/8/apple-iphone-7-and-smartphone-implications

This photo of Butters is one of my favorite dog photos of all time (especially since I know the context).

Not sure if that moon really is as full as it looks on the web page, but I used to have a dog that had fits at the full moon, just saying.

Regarding: "...my psyche is not entirely comfortable with the whole smartphone-as-camera era in photography...".
I think maybe the point is no longer "phone as camera", but "camera with phone". Or even, a comprehensive, well rounded communication device with integrated optical and telephonic capabilities.
Embrace the future!

IANADW but I'm sure Butter's saying something like, "hey, that was your nightmare, not mine. Nothing to do with me... Oh. The poop. Yeah. Sorry about that. That was me. Couldn't help it."

*I Am Not A Dog Whisperer

I have three rescue dogs and no carpet. :-) Of course mine are the kings/queens of rolling in coyote poop.

"mugwump" - n. A species of bird that sits on a fence, with his mug on one side, and his wump on the other.

Thanks for the remembrance. My Dad taught me that, when I was knee-high to a grasshopper.

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