If all else fails…

Thought this was very watchable. Love the Scandi noire and this is right up there.

The leftie journo who goes to prison after he gets set up by a corrupt tycoon and the fascinating abused girl with dragon tatoo who, after fixing her nasty rapist parole officer with a needle to the side of the neck, hacks into computers and accounts to get at the real truth.

She team up with the likable journo and off they go after a clan of sadistic nazis seriel killers.

One way to while an hour or two away when life doesn’t come calling with anything more engaging.

And the added bonus, you get to hear Viking-English in Swedish.

Stieg Larsson’s Millennium, Series 1: 2. The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo – Part 2: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/m0011v7w via @bbciplayer

THE QUEEN’S QUEUERS by Ashley Chapman.

On Friday, they queued for 13 hours before a six hour stop was introduced to control the five-mile long column.

The dedicated queuers crossed through Westminster Bridge to continue along the Southbank to Vauxhall Bridge where they squeezed into a penultimate tortuous passage. ‘You have 2-3 hours before you reach the end,’ the security man cheerfully told them while bottles of water were handed out and they were searched. For those who had come from outside London, hotels were charging a £1000 a night.

A pageant dedicated to a diminishing sense of the Nation’s self as it freefalls into economic decline… following the wasted opportunity that had been the postwar settlement.

The Queen was also the head of the Church of England, so to the casual observer, this initially felt like an act of penance from her devoted monarchical following.

By Sunday, The Guardian reported that the queuer’s resolve was ‘subdued optimism’. Rob Johns, a political professor at the University of Essex, said it was more about the queue than queueing. These people enjoyed coming together in a queue. As a demographic, he added, they were not in the main Conservatives and 60% were Remainers.

I did however see grandmothers being held up by their grown kids in the heat of the late afternoon sun. They seemed delirious and if pushed any further, not too far off joining Her Majesty in a coffin.

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Novara Media reported that in actual fact, there were no more than about 30,000 spread in twos and threes over the queue’s length from Southwark Park to the House of Commons’ Westminster Hall, where the Queen lay-in-state.

Personally, I became increasingly exasperated on my way out of Westminster as the media and extra security had blocked off the exits and shortcuts, so all I could do was push through the crowd waves.

At last past Parliament Square, from a large wooden tiered structure built opposite Westminster Abbey, and completely covering the Queen Elizabeth II Centre, telephoto lenses were already aimed at Westminster Abbey’s entrance, ahead of Monday’s Royal buriel. In white privileged marquee tents, the media circus had long since closed-in on the key points along the route.

The Southbank Lion. Photo: Ashley Chapman

The end of an era ends in a pageant dedicated to a diminishing sense of the Nation’s self before it freefalls into recession. From the relative prosperity and the wasted opportunity that had been the postwar settlement – reality will hit this winter. And if British workers want their pay to reflect interest rate rises, they have a fight on their hands.

The Bank of England has used the monarch’s demise, to release itself from any financial decisions over a ten day period until Thursday next.

Owen Jones, the YouTuber and Guardian columnist, has also commentated that the bank holiday discriminates against millions of low-paid workers, especially those in precarious employment, who can’t afford losing pay over what is in effect an unscheduled day off.

With these issues to the fore among the living, whatever the deceased Queen’s seventy years of service ultimately mean, the establishment she represented, can best be described as allowing, indulgent and neoliberal, but at worst, entitled, uncaring and rapacious.

The ascession of King Charles III is crowned by all that Queen Elizabeth’s reign did not put right. The profligacy and callousness of its imperial and colonial legacy.

Space-time Continuum is Dead, Long Live Quantum Entanglement! writes Ashley Chapman

If ya wanna understand how quantum entanglement works; how it has, through experimentation, become the dominant theory of the universe, then you may have to bite the bullet and accept that the space-time continuum model is no longer the ultimate definition of reality.

You what? I know, but this little gem helps, Einstein’s Quantum Riddle – now thankfully available on YouTube.

Quantum entanglement is increasingly coming to the fore to explain how the instantaneous ability of pairs of particles to simultaneously appear in two places at once. Additionally, this works very well on the holographic model of the universe, in which, from an infinitely far away sphere, our reality, crowned by a sceptre of quantum bits – qubits – is beamed straight to us from a screen-like plane on the very edges of our Cosmos.

We are utterly tangled up with the stars.

In this model, from a 5D reality, our 2D reality is directly projected, becoming 3D (volume, depth and width). However, time – the fourth dimension – along with space, simply disappear, replaced by information or quanta. The concept of time and space are discarded in the new model. Interconnectedness on a grand scale does away with both. They become redundant concepts. There are no vast distances to travel in quantum mechanics, the whole acts as a single blisteringly efficient structure that ‘magically’ appears when prompted by sensors.

And there is no vacuum of space. We are one with the Cosmos. Something which hippies in the 60s and 70s counterculture, as this doc shows, embraced in texts such as The Tao of Physics (1975) and The Dancing Wu Li Masters (1979) written by the new physics avant-garde, or The Fundamental Fysiks Group as they called themselves, and by everyone taking pyschadelic drugs and attending rock festivals.

A four year experiment led by leading physicist Anton Zeilinger, carried out in the Canaries, establishes beyond all reasonable doubt that the intangible nature of particles is real. To do this, light from eight billion years ago is captured from  a quasar light-source. This is to ensure that the choice of filter through which a pair of entangled  photons passes, remains genuinely random, and is not influenced in any way. The result, shows that particles are entangled, they are non-localised and they act at a distance.

Though they exist in reality as only a millionth of the width of a hair, and then, only as a probability – that is, they are a prediction of a particle’s existence on an infinite scale of probability; only becoming a particle when they are detected by our instruments. This means, we are utterly tangled up with the stars. As there is no space – or time – as Einstein had perceived it.

The universe is a mass of particles that act, as far as we know, as a single strand or a humangous fuzzy mass. Whatever happens at any one point in this mass of fuzzy wave strands also happens anywhere else, instantaneously, as Danish physicist Niels Bohr predicted in 1927.

What Einstein rejected as ‘spooky action at a distance’ – as he felt the space-time continuum offered a more reliable model for the universe – has now become the closest thing to an understanding of how the universe actually works – that science has.

Einstein‘s Quantum Riddle is not bad for a BBC programme, but how many will grasp what this truly means? Only those who have travelled to the ends of the universe and back, I joke, but I sort of don’t…

Einstein’s Quantum Riddle: http://www.bbc.co.uk/iplayer/episode/m000db95 via @bbciplayer

High Wierdness by Erik Davis, reviewed by Ashley Chapman

I have to say that this is one of the best books I have read on mind-altering subjective experiences.

It looks at three 1970s writets or pychonauts, Kenneth McKenna, Robert Anton Wilson and Philip K. Dick.

McKenna is a great subject, but perhaps McKenna is best left to talk for himself, but Robert Anton Wilson is truly an inspired choice for hagiography.

He wrote the Illuminati Trilogy and Cosmic Trigger and others, and goes on what can be described as an epic cosmic mind meander, blasting aside whatever amniotic fluid-like barrier seperates the conscious reasoning mind from the mythological unconscious.

The anecdotes are numerous, the bravery of the psychonauts insane and the sense of one ‘tunnel-reality’ after another being atomised to allow in all kinds of astral madness – palpabal, weird and definitely high.

And I still have Philip K. Dick to enjoy…