Going Chaotic and Alternate Realities

A comedian once suggested that chaos could be putting Boris Johnson and an Aardvark whilst both on magic mushrooms into a sack. The result could be chaotic but it would be a controlled and contained chaos.  If you added some crystal meth and Katie Price things could get more interesting. I give away my UK nationality from time to time at the supermarket when I cajole “Boris” the supermarket trolley to go in the direction I seek. At the moment “leadership” in the USA is chaotic and whim based. The markets are volatile and Nero might have fun watching them burn were he able to play a violin.

The thing about the internet is that it too is volatile. Things can flood like a desert wadi after a sudden rain shower. One can rocket into viral public visibility and then disappear overnight. The story about yesterday’s news being tomorrow’s wrappers for fish and chips holds truck. All it might take to be famous for a nanosecond would be for some celeb influencer to name drop. There are journos who follow what they “like” on the internet. A single like or follow could result in a chaotic uncontrollable event. Were Princess Diana to like one of my dream posts…

It is difficult if not impossible to control what happens on the internet.

The internet is a kind of alternate reality which nevertheless impinges on day to day reality.

Yesterday following a thread I searched for Quantum Venture Capital. Quantum is a groovy word. Did you know that dishwasher tablets are quantum objects?? There are some under the sink in the kitchen. I wonder what is the dishwasher tablet Hamiltonian operator?

There are lot of people using this groovy word to name their businesses.

It is like when bellends use the phrase “laser focussed” when they mean “laser collimated” or “non-divergent”. Things get appropriated.

On my desk behind me is an arXiv paper written by a VC from “Quantonation” in which he discusses funding for quantum  start-ups.  I am kind of resisting reading it because it pertains to an alternate reality, one where people wear suits and go to important meetings. There is a weird familiarity.

I am unlikely to be star struck were I to drift across a wormhole into that universe. Most likely I would be ignored as being non-U, not welcome at the dinner table.

It is kind of funny to watch. When I look at the “teams” presented on many Venture Capital web sites I think yuck.. Really… I do not like the look of some of them and the blurb which accompanies is non-attractive veering towards some kind of AI based same-same authorship. They look cloned. I don’t see USPs.

It does not really matter what an old git like me thinks. It is off putting. You think, maybe. You take one look and think, nah. It is not a game of soldiers which looks attractive. It is an alternate dimension.

There is always a small yet finite possibility that some chaos could manifest into our bucolic little world…

You never know what might happen, what spanners the universe may yet have in its bag for chucking…

Far out…

Nord Holland – Fürstenberg – Clones – Snatch Team – Dream – 12-11-2025

Here is this morning’s dream. Like many others it comes out of the blue.

The dream opens with me looking at a map of Noord-Holland, with a bit of Friesland and Zwolle. In the dream I hear Nord Holland but the map has the entire area including the islands of to the north and the large inlet. It is a warm sunny day in a small village or town. I am following discreet tidy signs to the “Bahnhof” or train station. I don’t know why but the word looks out of context for the Dutch environment. I follow the signs into a very small quaint train station and board a tiny local train. I need to get to Fuhrstenberg or Fürstenberg. The train will take me into a much large nodal communication hub.

I am sat on a bench in the train and at the next large stop am joined by Anita and two Japanese men in black salary man suits. They have been to an academic conference nearby. There is a lot of technology and high tech industry in the area. She is pleased to see me and I her. We talk briefly about the conference she has been to and that I am travelling to Fürstenberg. I do not know the way yet but am sure that I can figure it out at the major Haupt-Bahnhof. I alight at the big station and they continue on to the airport.

When I arrive I get off at the train station concours. It is European. It is heaving with commuters at rush hour. I look at various schematic train line maps and am none the wiser. There is an information centre with computer terminals. The signage is in roman script  and Japanese. I stand at a computer terminal next to a Japanese man and show him how to change the language options. I enter Furstenberg in the search engine and it shows a simple two stage train journey to get there. I will have to make one change and wait there a little then I will get to my destination. It will be a few hours.

I go up to the ticket barriers and note just how very crowded they are. I have purchased the on-going tickets for my journey. I look up to the station clock and can see from the hands that I have some time to wait before departure. I decide to go into a cafeteria. I sit at an old-school sixties US diner table with my coffee and a newspaper. It has bum-sticker plastic chairs and a red Formica top. There is a metallic edge protector all around. I am joined by a man in a light blue sixties style “Mormon” suit with thin lapels. He is wearing winkle picker shoes. He also has a newspaper. We look up and catch each other’s gaze. He is like a young George Peppard with very blue piercing eyes. The eyes are startling. He has immaculate blonde hair. On his lapel I can see a pin badge with what looks like a Renault diamond motif and a vertical bar going through the diamond. {Post hoc query masonic?} It is at most one centimetre in size. Having caught eyes we return to our newspapers.

He then speaks. He reaches over and pins a similar badge to my lapel. He says that it is a tracker jammer and that it should buy us a little time. He gestures down to the watch on my right wrist. It is a metallic watch with a metallic strap, the type that I would never buy, very Del-boy. He asks where I got this. I say that it was a gift. He says that they are using it to track me. Now the signal has stopped they will arrive in person. I note an Indian looking woman on a nearby table is working with “George”.

A team of people come in the cafeteria door and head towards us. Among the team are two young men with albino like colouration who are twins. I think them to be clones. There is another one identical in the team. They are a snatch team. The twins come to try to grab hold of me. I grab the head of each in my arms in a headlock. I have one clone under each arm. I lift them up, raising my elbows so that I am holding them by their heads. I have their full weight in the crook  of my arms. I can feel their necks snap. “George” lets off a flash-bang distraction grenade and the Indian woman heads towards a fire door hotly pursued by the other clone. She manages to open the door and is followed through by the clone who she fights off. She jumps onto the back of a hood down old-style Mercedes convertible and is joined by the clone. They wrestle there as the car speeds off.

There is mayhem in the cafeteria. I stand in the open fire door and watch as there is a kerfuffle involving “George” and the snatch team. I take the wristwatch off and throw it into a bin.  

As I come to I think “Oh shit not yet another spy dream. That is what you get for watching the first episode of Killing Eve!”.

The dream ends.