Sometimes great ideas come to us in dreams. And sometimes we just conjure up bizarre images that make no sense in the cold light of day. This morning I awoke with a single word "supercaust" echoing through my head. As far as I can remember, it was the title of one of a trilogy of related books, although it might have been something to do with a modern version of ancient roman central heating devices.
(this in turn reminds me of a conversation I had about a decade ago regarding my sumptuous student digs:
Me: "They're even heated with a hypocaust"
James: "Straight up?!"
Me: "No, under the floor")
Anyway, possibly also as a consequence of lucid dreaming, your topical tonguetwister of the day is "Iranian Uranium". Try saying that twenty times in succession while submerged in a giant pot of water in the Lincoln center).