In a BBC office, some people who I didn't recognise were talking about how pleased they were to have been contacted by Arthur Dent, from the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy, who everyone had thought was dead. He had offered to write some essays for radio and the web and they were quite excited, as, obviously, he hadn't written anything for a while and everyone thought he was very funny.
When the first article arrived, however, it turned out to be a devastatingly well argued attack on the Government's ID card policy. It was so incisive and powerful that there was no doubt that ministers would have to resign as a result of its being read out on air.
Puzzled by this change in the tone of his writing, the BBC dispatched a reporter to Arthur Dent's house to see what the problem was. The reporter's suspicion that an impostor had sent the article was proved to be correct when I was found to be hiding under a bed in the house, wearing Arthur Dent's dressing gown.
Notes for Freudian Analysis
Freud reckons that the material, if not the subject matter, of people's dreams invariably comes from things they have encountered during the day. However, I am certain that I didn't think about the Hitch Hiker's Guide to the Galaxy yesterday. I was in a pub with someone called Ford, though, as was Arthur Dent just before the Earth was blown up, but I think that's a bit of a stretch.
It is Douglas Adams who is dead; Arthur Dent doesn't die in the books, as far as I can recall. He wears a dressing gown for, at least, the whole of the first two books, though.
While I was making my tea last night, I listened to Alex Salmond and Anne McGuire on the radio, talking about ID cards. As I was alone in the house, I was able to participate vigorously in their discussion and point out many more reasons why ID cards are a bad idea than Alex Salmond was allowed to by the presenter. I won the debate, of course.