Sheldrake's philosophy of mind brings Robert Anton Wilson's Jungian thoughts on synchronicity and the FW back into the picture. Easily freudened youths have taken Gutenberg-biased materialism far too seriously. They won't ever bring their encoding-storage-retrieval models of memory into a book that yells Giordano Bruno while considering the implications of this dissonance and I can't write footnotes to Plato all the time. Quoint a quincidence! R.A.W. says the collective unconscious delivers language through Bell's non-locality. Let us borrow Sheldrake antenna metaphor and call Joyce's mind a Χρόνος Arecibo of sorts. Sending powerful signals, but unlike his unmerry byname, receiving back real answers from extra-1930s realms.