(I dreamed that a change occurred in the leadership - which is inevitably also a change in the leadership of the world. Someone up there fell asleep at the wheel, and no one wakes them up or utters a sound - the system is on autopilot. It would be one thing if the Admor [Hasidic rabbi] of blessed memory had died, but to disappear? How does one proceed now? And down below, in the twists and turns, the complaints never cease: why are we the ones stuck between the end of an era and the beginning of an age, between a rock and a hard place - and between computer and human. We've fallen in the middle between exile and redemption. Someone has to be the sandwich child [middle child], but - is this the Messiah?! And I remember the all-too-familiar laughter, torn and tattered, of the former Admor: Nu [well], you know what happens in the generation of the desert)