I am currently writing a book which is essentially a diary / blog of my life.
I write it on the train each morning and started writing it to prove to that sleeping on trains is a waste of time.
It's called As They Slept and will be released on Friday 14th December 2012
Here is today's chapter
Wednesday 24th October 2012
Dreams are strange aren't they. Last night I decided to watch two programmes, back to back, centred around the vile man that was Jimmy Saville. The true extent of this mans evil is yet to be fully uncovered, but I would hope that the whole truth will be available by the time this book is printed. The two programmes had been recorded from the previous night.
There was a Newsnight programme, hosted by Jeremy Paxman, which essentially went on to slate the editor of the programme and then proceeded to interview the programmes' own journalists, reaffirming the point that Newsnights' editor was an idiot. It was a Newsnight special, about Newsnight; very strange indeed. It would be like a private investigator hiring himself to investigate his own private life.
The second programme was Panoramma, which also focussed on the same issues, but went into more detail about Jimmy Saville himself and how he could have possibly got away with it for so long. It finished by questioning whether senior bosses at the BBC, including the director general, were involved in a cover up. Two BBC programmes, aired at the same time, one on BBC 1, the other on BBC 2; both primarily focussed on criticising the BBC.
Whatever you think about the BBC, you have got to admire their balls.
So having watched both of these programmes back to back, relatively late last night, I inevitably started to dream about it. Last night I became the lead investigator in the case and it was down to me to get to the truth. I spent the whole night conducting interviews with BBC staff, including journalists, presenters, editors, producers and even the bloody security guard on the gate. I interviewed victims, witnesses, family members; I held press conferences, spoke to MP's and even took advice from the queen. This morning I am exhausted.
I'd like to say that that I cracked the case, but of course I didn't. While interviewing the staff at the BBC, the office I was in suddenly became a circus tent, the person I was speaking to suddenly turned into an orange and the paper I was writing on turned into a paper plane and flew away.
One minute I would be interviewing the director general at BBC headquarters, the next I would be interviewing a bloody orange in a circus tent. In truth, it really hindered my investigation, but, like all dreams, I never questioned it for a second. I was determined to get to the truth and if that had to come from a tangerine, then so be it.
Of course, like all dreams, it was just a jumbled up mess and none of it made any sense. I still woke up, tired and confused, convinced that I'd made some inroads and some of the leads were worth following up. I'm sure you've had the dream where you had won the lottery and you are convinced you will be able to recall at least some of the numbers.
"I'm sure there was a six, or was it a nine? I remember the number one, or was it eleven........"
The worst dream is the one about work. We've all had that dream where we spend the whole night dreaming about work. Tossing and turning all night long, work work work, only to wake up and have to do it all again, only for bloody real. Twenty four hours of non stop bloody work. So unfair.
The other dream I have regularly is the one where I am convinced I can remember it all, but can in fact remember nothing. I'll say to my wife
"I had a dream about us last night where we were in Paris"
"Really? What happened" she would ask
"Well you were there, only it wasn't you, it was someone else and we went to Paris, only it wasn't Paris, it was somewhere else ....."
Twenty minutes later and I am still trying to explain the "vivid" dream that I had had, with the only facts being that my wife was there but she wasn't and we went to Paris, but we didn't.
Popular dreams tend to focus on fantasy, so guys will often dream about playing up front for their favourite football team and girls will often dream about being a Princess and marrying a Prince. I've always wondered what footballers or Princesses dream about. Maybe they dream about driving a van or working in a shop?
Dreams offer an alternative reality and I think they are a good thing, even if that means I have to wake up every so often, wondering why my Doctor is the new Prime Minister.
As Gabrielle once famously sung, "Dreams can come true" so if you'll excuse me, I have some crucial leads to follow up on