When Pavlov’s dog met Schrödinger’s cat, the world stopped for a minute.
It didn’t really stop as such but glitched, a febrile minute
A thought experiment of sorts outside the box and in it.
The feline, they were out of sorts; a strontium addiction.
The dog conditioned, slobbered as a bell rang in the distance.
The cat’s eyes focused hard on the saliva of the hound
And under kitty’s observation, it dribbled down and down
The dog stared into the pool of spit and saw its own reflection
Still hungry, dog took stock of their repeated situation
Quantum in its furry form, the cat reflected also
Wondering about the stress upon its fragile torso
The cat laid down and closed its eyes; a fatal premonition
Only to breathe life again, a zombie like condition
So slobberdog and quatum cat began an interesting chat
About philosophy and science and ehtics and all of that
And quatum kitty laid their head upon the throat of dog
And wished that they could die together in the universal quantum fog.
Time came as the fourth dimension
It wiped away all allusion
Transition from special to general relativity
increased the universe's accessibility
Time travel once a hyperbole
is now possible through wormhole
The geometry of space-time
made gravity an age old mime
For high precision came the strontium clock
which made cesium an uninhabited block
We didn't go abroad this year, we had our summer holiday
Here in the UK where it had rained all summer long.
We scuba dived in the sea but it was dead, devoid of all
Life; we walked the coastal path to where the bungalow
Fell in the sea last year, near to the wreck of the oil tanker
That ran aground in a winter storm.
On the only dry day we had we went for a picnic sitting
In a meadow beneath an oak tree but there were no wild
Flowers, and no bees either; even the Holly Blue's didn't show.
Only the soft noise of fracking in a nearby field. Cows that once
Graced that field now stand farting and eating their lives away
In a shed that's part of a factory farm.
On our last day we sat in the cafe eating cod and
Chips, cod caught in the Irish Sea loaded with
Caesium 137 and strontium 90 that had been seeping
Out of Sellafield nuclear power station over the years.
We could have had the Pacific tuna irradiated from the
Fukushima fall-out but preferred the cod.
Maralinga, Maralinga,
where the white mans fire still burns,
Where atomic radiation made the little creatures squirm,
Where walked old Nooran Gurra with the Emu fella dance,
Where the bloody fire an brimstone didn't give em any chance,
bloody radiation, awful fire of death still burns,
An his bone are bleaching whiter,
Has his spirit come to terms,
Not bloody likely,
So they give us Maralinga,
So linger longer, yes we can,
Does luekemia point the finger,
If we live upon the land.?
?? Don
yes by crikey, death and sand...
Maralinga was just one of the 1950s, British, 12 atomic blast sites, before the radiation blew to the four corners of Australia giving us the sweet subtle strontium 90 in the cows milk off the radioactive grass that the cows did eat. And the geigher counter service guy couldn't stop the counter working franticly cos the radioactive rain was falling in Brisbane in 1955...
Luekemia luekemia, the atomic bloody curse,
Menzies the magnificent allowed 12 atom bombs to burst,
The order of the garter for the boofhead Aussie clown,
Became a sir or mr on the tory side of town,
15,000 bones were kept, suspicious deaths the score,
Old soldiers still die today, Luekemia abhor,
Aunty Clare was 21 back in the nineteen fiftys,
Cancer killed her, smoking sure,
Liuekemia wasn't bloody nifty.,
Strontium 90 in the milk,
Radioactive was the grass,
Bulging bloody thyriods in the sheep,
Where ole Marston looked and asked,
(CSIRO)
Right across Australia.
The convict spawn of Australia were deemed
Expendale by the Pommy overlords...
Don Johnson
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FbbSEkyPtkY
A lot of children died of the radiation.
People died young of Lukemia, cancer,
eg my Aunty Clare at 21, Dirranbandi
Heather Lindsay died young too at Dirranbandi.
She was just one of many.
John Brummell died 40 years later as did Harvey Johnson,
so we had quick and slow deaths....
The modern Knight
The Knight of the realm ,
Was a great man of courage,
Who protected the people,
Got dubbed by the King,
The bravest of brave,
Moralitys brightest,
Loved by the people,
Now the rich mans plaything???
But it became some snobs, crass title,
Given to Kerrs, and curs aint the thing,
Class distinction, from above, call me mister or sir?
The greatest of toads, to serve the toad master,
Brown nose, hum dingers, billy stinkers, I ching,
Gee golly they call me mr or sir?
Right next to the saints,
I’ve risen old thing,
To keep me head down,
I’ll need on me bridle,
A martingale strong,
So me head doesn’t sing…
Don Johnson
THE ONE WHO ALLOWED 12 ATOM BOMBS EXPLODED HERE IN AUSTRALIA GOT KNIGHTED FOR SERVICE TO THE QUEEN:}
ONLY 12 THOUSAND AUSSIES DEAD FROM STRONTIUM 90 IN THE MILK, AND ALL THE LITTLE KIDDIES GOT IT AT SCHOOL TOO IN THE FIFTYS... I REFUSED TO DRINK MILK AINT I LUCKY ???
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SHBLBkYiCK4
check it out if you don't believe :{
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