Morning of April 8, 2013. Monday.

I am walking through a mostly unfamiliar area near a woods, but on the edge of a smaller town. I am with a stranger that mostly reminds me of Harrison Ford, but there are a few other people in the area, including a sister.

I notice some jets in the sky flying overhead, as well as a smaller UFO, which also looks like some sort of unusual jet.

I point out the strange maneuvers and flight paths of the aircraft as they turn to one side, go around a tree, and come back again. For some reason, I expect them all to crash and my confidence grows that they will. One soon crashes in the far distance making an explosion and resulting fire.

The UFO (which I actually suspect to be some sort of smaller military craft) comes very close to us, but there is no threat. It continues just past us, crashing to the ground (and sliding slightly) without much drama. It is not very big at all, the main section not much bigger than a metal garbage can lid, but it does have smaller jet-like wings.

Somehow I am able to understand that it has a computer chip in a particular location. I walk up to it (it is mostly still in one piece and of course had been unmanned - in fact, too small to carry much weight) and reach down (there is still a bit of fire and smoke near some parts of it), and pull out a computer chip that slides out and is about the size of a stick of gum (although thicker).

We walk into some other areas. I am sort of happy I have the chip, but we need to stay away from government or military areas. Somehow, though, we are near Area 51, but it is in an urban area in my dream and thus not really isolated. The UFO people that try to get in are said to be “missing a week” (something to do with 52 weeks in a year at Area 51) as a form of seeming idiocy on their part.

Each UFO is actually relative to government activity and controlling agriculture. The chip I have was made to release harmful chemicals over certain fields to destroy certain crops as well as fertilize and help certain others, thus greatly interfering with the intent and livelihood of the farmers in the region.

I notice a group of military police (about five of them of various ages) annoying an innocent family at a farm when I go in, but I am not sure why; I think it is simply by the family just living there - they are just sitting at a kitchen table not having done anything wrong, and I am aware of the highly misguided bullying parental mentality of authority, which I had always found a bit bizarre in real life relative to police mentality when near the otherwise normal activities of the general public - the “guilty until proven innocent” fact and rule of overall behavior of authority, the opposite of what is claimed by consensus or law. One younger man pulls out a matte black gun for no reason and points it at a dark-haired girl. I take out a screwdriver with a partially transparent orange handle (seemingly my weapon of choice in recent dreams) and hit him fairly lightly on the top of the head with the handle, making a strange hollow metallic sound that is almost musical, with a sort of organ-like tonal delay and even a chorus effect in 440 Hz range. He immediately falls unconscious, sprawled on the floor near the corner of the table by his potential victim.

The other military officers do not even seem to notice and casually go on with their business elsewhere, ignoring their man lying on the floor.

Not much else happens. The “lid” can be slid back from the chip on one side, and there are very small smooth and oval radioactive stones or “grains” of two sizes in an alternating larger stone/smaller stone geometrical pattern in three or four rows. There is more talk on how the government is using UFOs (which are all actually small unmanned jets nearly the same as the overall shape of the older-style and more round Romulan Bird-of-Prey - of which I had a model of one as a child, having gotten it for Christmas).

Well, there was slight foresight to this, as is often the case, but relating to my wife. A person came up to her (a local who mostly has a house full of cats and a self-declared “duty” to take in every stray) that she does not know that well. The person made a comment about how she liked the name Gabrielle (without knowing it was my wife’s middle name, mostly responding to another name that was not really similar), then made a bizarre comment about the ground (locally) being poisoned. I think it was around the same time I was writing the entry.