i watched the seals frolicking at the beach, pelicans circle the haven, a cold winters morning as whales swim by. yesterday dolphins swam into the bay, there's an edge to the wind but a warmth in the abundance of natural life that envelopes me. i clamber up to the headland, it's quite a climb but worth for the panoramic view, occasionally i meet someone i know and we chat for a while but mostly it's just exercise and focus upon movement.

afterwards my fave cafe for turmeric lattes and if i am lucky a coco bannana muffin made by the swedish / english lady who will occasionally come out and say hello, she is quite something. it's nice sitting around in the sun with my dawn friends.

in the afternoon i go for a drive with jake, usually somewhere new, nora head, long jetty, the entrance, somewhere i would never usually go, today i took him to bamboo buddha which he seemed to like. soon he will return to london, and the life i have come to love will change again. it's been nice having him around.

each morning i climb up the 'skillion' at terrible beach, run up the steps and then at the top i watch the whales swim by. it's quite stunning up there, sometimes whales breach often they spout huge jets of water from their blowholes, it's a spectacular privilege to witness them. when i get my breath back i head down for my coffee and pass the massive construction they are creating, some sort of two story pavilion type place. the beach is changing.

i'm reading an interesting book on dreaming, astral projection and scrying. i read a sentence that strikes me as profound, 'consciousness is the object of awareness. awareness is the subject of consciousness.'

the writer also states there are three positions consciousness can be in, waking, asleep and paradoxical which is known as REM.

i've kept a dream journal for several years and apparently i have been doing it wrong, adjustments need to be made. as far as lucid dreaming goes i am on the cusp of mastering it, but there are a few simple exercises i must condition myself with. it's quite challenging and i'm glad i found the answers to the whole thing here in this book. most literature on lucid dreaming is incorrect and misleading, something i did not really consider but then most occult literature has been misrepresented and repackaged to reflect inaccurate information.

onwards i must go, getting there, staying here. 

it's ice cold, must be snowing in the mountains but although dawn at terrible is drenched in winter sunlight the ice wind cuts through. i enjoy sitting in the sun, warming bones and drinking in fresh air. later i train hard with some weights and resistance, start to warm up. 

i've discovered that my car actually has a very impressive function, heated seating. this is amazingly surprising, it's warmer than mission control, i love it. there's a whole row of buttons i discovered and i have no idea what they do so i have to look it up in the handbook. 

at home i just work on the garden, replant some cacti and collect kindling, i get the fire raging so the evening is toasty, perfect to kick back and enjoy shriekback.

my friend kevin in the uk sends me some songs from the first maldives gig. he's a genius audio guy and put the songs together from various peoples recordings. it was really nice of him to think of me. i'm looking forwards to cranking them up and playing them.

not much else to report, a chat with my mum, a long therapeutic bath and an early night.

sunday morning i get down the street and meet up with my magic mushroom dealer, i bump into and spark up an interesting conversation with a young girl, she's slightly autistic, and kinda sexy dressed as a real nerdy looking type, chatting about practicalities like always caring a bag for fruit and veg. we discuss apples, i recommend the bravo variety as she has never tried them, she recommends the hybrid pear apple that looks small and tastes big. she shows me pictures of her two dogs, scrolling through her mobile at thousands of images of animals. there's something about her that is very attractive, her feminine energy and feeling of safety kinda washes over me and makes me peaceful. obviously i wanna chase her down, get a number, grab a coffee but she has to run off to her mother who has texted her and we pledge to catch up next time we are out and about at this little market. later as i amble along i see some representative from the new york bagel company,  it's his last day at work and launches into a story about his career. I tell him about my love for a bagel and how the only way i can eat them is if they are fresh and filled with lox. he makes me one. it's amazing. it's an indulgence but in all honesty i usually have one two times a year as they are elusive and never quite made to my reqiuirements. it has to be dark rye.

back home for domestics and gardening, my garden is out of control and requires a full week of work, however in the short window left to me there's a certain satisfaction as i prune and dispose of waste matter and debris. three massive palm fronds fall from above in the gusts of wind, they all nearly hit me. it's like a war zone and then peace. as they hit the ground they make a 'whopft' sound.

at mid day i stop and play the new shreikback album monument. fuck, it's brilliant. a barry anderson solo one but it really sounds like classic shrieks and at the moment is my fave cd from all their releases. 

lyrically it is so rich as usual but also interesting, the opening track is a stunner but it dosn't really let up. i love barry's songwriting, he uses words most dictionarries omit.   this is their 17th or 18th album and it's just barry without his bandmates who were pursuing solo careers. it's classic shriek however and really stands up tall. get a copy and thank me later. please pay for it as these guys are already on the breadline. i play it non stop from noon to 1740, gotta get the fire started ad make some food. also i have a series to watch, halfway through an adaptation of blake crouch's dark matter, a book i read a few years ago and liked. it has jennifer colleney and joel egerton in lead roles and it's a pretty straightforwards adaptation about two people lost in a box that creates superposition as they search for their version of reality amongst some pretty alternative ones. it's good and i'm half way through.

saturday morning in the morning glow at terrible beach, the water looks amazing, warm currents and blue skies, it's cold in the air but the beach is packed. i wander around the market, it's not that good but it sells very good jalapeño bread with cheese. yum. i make some calls, talk to a few people, drink a turmeric latte and soak up the sunshine.

my mission is to make people laugh, it's a good way for me to navigate the world. no one gets away from my humour. if i fail i just try until i get a laugh. it's a mission. actually it's a tactic to complete my mission which is to stay alive. anyways, it makes me feel good and changes my persective. no negative vibrations penetrate me, even the usual nasty dumb zombies fall down laughing. yes, it's the weirdest life i've ever had. 

many years ago i used to tell people i channelled a 30, 000 year old comedian. he / she used to spontaniously take over my mind, mid conversation or sometimes when i am alone, and come out with a routine. sometimes the routine would last a few hours, i'd even do different accents but now the comedian inside is much more three dimensional and in my power and control. 

around mid afternoon i head home. agent wilde is coming over, may make her some lunch.

old captain mission alone again after jake returns to babylon across the water. it's strange how empty life is now, i enjoyed having him here, we were very compatible when it came to sharing. i really enjoyed cooking for him. he's a hard worker and looks after his health, and therefore mine, that's good compatibility as it motivates me. musically we diverge but that's okay, we are all products of our generation. 

anyway's gotta keep my vibration up, that's the main requirement of my battle against the world and death. we can do it, keep focused upon the good stuff, the beauty, the joy, the natural world and it's wonder. let go of the bullshit politics, ideology, it really is just a circus but nature is awe inspiring. everything that life in society throws at us is a challenge, it eats us and convinces us to eat one another and then we eat ourselves. the only escape is to see it for what it is and grow, evolve yourself. perfect the way you influence others, the way your energy contributes to the whole, i said it's spiritual war and now is the time to shine your light. in the face of darkness, gloom, doom and the inevitable subtraction that we seem to be within. 

i turn myself inside out, darkness to light. blinding everyone who encounters me. dazzled by something they can't comprehend only feel. i'm done with the human condition, i'm embracing the new man condition. 

positive vibrations shine through all creation. 

whatever war is going on, love will conquer all. i don't mean that weak force (romantic) i mean love in the way one could only have for an intelligent creator, a universe that is supreme and knows it's trajectory and destination. it's plan. cosmic war is just growing pains, you have to go through it to get to the other side. and in cosmic war there is no side, just to have absolute transcendency over all that we face in our existence. we come in crying but can go out laughing.

 

my friend jean sent me this, and it did take me a while to actually get around to playing it,  better late than ever, and finally this evening after my hash cookie, i kicked back, got the fire going and pressed play...

jean

i've known you and yer sidekick for many years, and although there was a long gap it certainly came back in the form of a strong friendship so honestly i've no complaints. i love you guys. hearing this was magnificent, it really is beautiful. well done.

in this treatise newman proposes that all magical endeavours from the ancient religious testaments to the magical work of john dee and crowley, and at the heart of all secret societies lay the compound we know as dmt. often referred to as 'red powder' in texts and hailing from acacia which is represented in symbolic codes throughout history this has been the heart and soul of all alchemical evolution and otherwise known as the philosophers stone.

his rigorous and sometimes demanding historical reasearch traces the thread of progression right up to rick strassman often getting in far deeper than i needed to know, this is a remarkable dectective work by the author who offers transcriptions from several wide and varied texts, often misunderstood and misinterpreted by many who came before. he certainly convinced me, although that would have been easy given my experience. dmt is the key to everything.  

this is not a book for dilettantes, more for researchers, historians and practitioners who think it's the ritual that gets you there. dmt is the sacrement that opens the door. 

however due preparation is necessary as this is not a recreational pursuit.

it's interesting how angels, demons and various other occult energies are all part of what could be called the dmt experience, these days we have different terminologies, machine elves, aliens ect, but if you are a purest like me, the label doesn't matter, it's the information they share that counts.

well i have to say that so far this is one of the best science fiction dramas i have seen on television. adapted from issac asimov's books but not following the narrative exactly comes this magnificent production where the sets are striking, the script is par excellence and the characters all interesting and multi dimensional. 

the story takes place over millions of years, and it's non linear with huge jumps to the past and back to the present. it's difficult to follow sometimes and then after the last episodes of a two series binge, i began to understand how my smart tv had played a practical joke upon me and shown me the whole series out of sequence, total random viewing. 

after the show i said to jakob how much i enjoyed it but it was challenging for me as i felt it skipped around all over the place, and i was not sure if i had missed an episode or two. so i went to the web and typed in an episode guide only to find the episode guides were not in the same sequence as what i had seen. 

and then it all fell into place.

so now i am watching the whole of series one and two in order and sequence and loving it even more. it really is something wonderfully made, intelligent both terrifing and beautiful, some of the sets are magnificent designs and the effects are tastefully done. 

it's my kind of tv show. 

although second in a series this can be read as a stand alone and it was the second reading for me, the book i took away and devoured between church gigs on the island. the second reading really was as enjoyable as the first, the characters were so much more interesting and the amazing themes of the fermi paradox answered in the most creative and frightening way. why is there no signs of intelligent space-faring life in such a vast universe, why are there only ruins of alien civilisations with no trace of what happened to them. 

the answers lay within the pages of redemption ark. and it's an excellent story if you like your science fiction hard and filled with astronomy. some of the science went right over my head but I did use my imagination to understand what was going down with the naughty inhibitors as the story reached it's climax.

ar is my fave science fiction writer, he takes space and brings you it's vastness, and then diversity. the alien races are bizarre by human standards, the inhibitors artefacts from eons before earth was formed. the story focuses on the human tribes, demarchists, conjoiners and ultras all racing to a hidden caste of weapons that may be the only defence against the ongoing apocalypse. the characters are amazing, i loved them all especially the captain who is an  aberration. 

redemption is a wonderful name for the story as it shows multitudes of characters all seeking some form of it, no one is perfect. nevil clavain is a old human solider, weary, tragic and filled with nostalgia for his romantic interest, he's switched sides once and now he's about to do it again. 

sydney after the rain seems in recovery as i wander through your town, my town, through the streets of my town... in anticipation of tonights jack frost show steve and the hoffman have put together. it's been a long time since i was in newtown and it looks shabby and run down, worse for wear, the magic gone. king street has lost that vibe, it's shops seem half dead and lacking in energy. i guess we are all dying in a way, as i sip my coffee i ponder this and decide while we are dying my new philosophy is to live and cheat death. i like the idea of challenging death, somewhat ingmar bergman i guess but you know how us soldiers are.

as if to seventh seal the deal a rainbow arcs it's way across the dramatic sky. and i find myself standing almost underneath it as it reached down to touch me outside happy herb highs. later i meet up with people and we all wait around the merch desk, chatting and swapping stories. i'm still surprised jack frost is the name dylan used to produce his albums. it's seems so bizarre considering grant was such a huge dylan fan. 

seeing the jack frost show invigorates me with a passion, not just the music but the lovely people and atmosphere, although the music was excellent it's been an enjoyable evening, those songs are meant to be played live. 

i have to say the go between covers sounded so good as well, songs i am unfamiliar with, but want to hear again. and so afterwards we depart i notice the trains have been cancelled and my next one is 1.5 later and the amazing ryissa steps in and offers to drive me. now i have to mention, ryissa has really done me a huge  service here, as she lives in north sydney and has travelled way beyond her boundaries and yet she is very gracious and great company. so hat's off to ryissa, who has earnt a very special place in olde captain missions friendship circle, which is actually not a large as people think. she didn't want petrol money and refused some cash. a generous and really beautiful act of kindness. respect!

it took me a while to fall asleep anyway, and i was happy to receive a text that she had arrived home safe.

i watched the dawn, had a shower and then went down to the terrible scout hut where a book sale was taking place, i didn't get anything but noticed a copy of redemption arc for $1 a book i had just finished reading for the second time.

loving 'foundation' on apple plus tv, i have seven days to watch the two series and i'm loving it so far, i have not read the books but i believe the tv series does not follow the books but just the themes, in fact from what i know it goes in an opposite direction from the novels so it's very exciting and challenging as it's a complex plot and requires attention and commitment. the effects are spectacular and beautiful, some of the interior shots look like they were filmed in roman temples, and the opening fight sequence is magnificent. i am just beginning to understand the factions, empire, foundation and the characters place in the narrative. nothing is spelt out, you just have to follow closely. the casting of hari sheldon is perfect, jarod harris is perfect. two episodes in and it's perfect.

i'm also reading nick cave's red hand files which over the years has given me a great insight into many things but also shown me that spiritual growth is the only growth, and it lay's in humility, which is a beautiful thing. i think because it's true. and sometimes i need a reminder.

i've started reading a new book, it's called 'angels in vermillion' and it looks at the history of alchemy and it's relation to magical groups, and how much of an influence dmt plays. it's fascinating in that freemasonry,  john dee and even the ancient greek cults all revered the acacia plant and how tribal cultures all hold a certain reverence for it. it's symbolism is found everywhere, hidden in plain sight.  p.d. newman goes on to suggest that practitioners misunderstood the alchemical tracts or implemented their own egos upon them and conflated sex with dat, thus a linage of sex magicians evolved,  crowley ect. 

it's a great read, although many of the historical names go right over my head, I have no idea who they are or how they influenced the world but they all seem important when it comes to alchemic evelution.

my own experience of high level dat doses suggest there is a connection between the old testament visions and spiritual experiences with dmt. and p.d. newman among many others points out specific references in the hebrew where plant medicines are used especially weed and syrian rue, the middle easts version of acacia. 

another interesting point is something i read in tablet magazine, where the writer looks at the way israel handled the survivors of the October massacre, as a lot of young people dancing at the peace festival were on psychedelics, and things were just kicking in when the palestinian's arrived.

because israel has been involved in psychedelics research or about 25 years, there are many professional agencies set up to deal with it's usage and trauma, and these assisted many of the survivors. it's a fascinating article and well worth reading, 

psychedelic holy land

jake's staying with me, it's nice having him around, i'm not used to company. he keeps himself busy by focusing on his work, putting together his own company, it's pretty impressive but beyond me. i don't understand pr and marketing, i know what it's for and why it's there but my experience is limited in that area. however in the evenings after dinner we often kick back and watch a little tv, currently 'the boys' which is possibly the most subversive take on pr and marketing ever, ironic huh?

on the island i would often waken at midnight and go strolling, wearing shorts, sandals and a tee shirt i would walk away from the main area and set my navigation system to the private area where the expensive beach huts were, the ones that overlooked the ocean and had their own private lagoon secured from sharks, mantas barracuda's and other unpredictable sea life. some nights the clouds had dissipated and i was left with a starless magestic apparition of the indian ocean,  that turquoise now a deep black colour and the gentle wash as tiny waves washed along hitting the sand. 

i'd slip out of clothing and walk into the warm water, a hint of phosphorescence and the smell of clean air,  unspoilt air, silent and only a couple of balcony lights showing a long arc, a strange curve reaching outwards from the shore. i didn't want to go anywhere near the huts lest i disturb a honeymooner couple or solo smoker enjoying a late night cigarette. 

i'd splash around for a while until i became self conscious or the eeriness overwhelmed me and then standing on the shore i'd shake myself dry and slip my clothing back on.

unfortunately the unpredictable conditions, it being wet season meant i couldn't do this each night and in the short time i was there only managed three times out of seven nights.

on the final night as i was walking back to the shore i couldn't help notice a silhouette before me, obviously female as it was slender and with long waves of hair, and as i drew nearer was entranced by her dark skin and nakedness. 

the sand felt good between my toes and the self consciousness i would normally feel in a situation like this seemed to fade as my body gained posture and a confidence it usually struggles for. after all we were both vulnerable before one another. she was about the same hight as me, much more alertness in her eyes than i would ever have, she was also strikingly beautiful in that classical way, a slender feminine beauty and mystery.

we stood inches from one another, there was not much i could say but we did meet eyes and i'm certain i caught a wry smile.

there was a sudden intrusion, a bird call, it shattered our stare and i smiled, attempting to appear friendly and engaging, 'hello.'

she did not answer but just looked at me as if i were not there, then i understood she was not looking at me at all, but beyond me. right through me at the sea. my hand waved slowly in front of her face but she showed no register, as far as she was concerned i was not even present. her interests lay beyond me, somewhere out there in the indian ocean.

look, it wouldn't be the first time a naked beautiful mysterious woman had ignored me, not even noticed me, but what could she be doing alone at night on this island and even more perplexing who could she be waiting for.

then i heard the lapping of the waves, the gentle rhythm change as a second sound intruded, the sound of oars. as i gazed out i could see the man jump out from his tiny fishing boat and wade towards the shore pulling the boat behind him with a length of rope. he secured the small boat and ran towards the woman and i gave them space to embrace. they kissed passionately and then began to walk towards one of the smaller huts.

certainly these cannot be tourists, they belonged from an ancient time, the man just wore a sarong and held a line with some fish attached, his catch.

'hussan, hassan, i have missed you so much. the beast has been twice now, twice. always asking the same questions, always asking if i saw it.'

'aminabi, you must never say you have seen the creature for it will devour you.'

'hussar, it will return again, soon.'

'then we must be ready my love and create a new strategy, one that works for us.'

i followed them, invisible to both, to the hut where they entered. i waited lingering in the warm air, a few moments passed. this place was beautiful, i had never felt so relaxed in many years, the air, the climate the tropical atmosphere, all i wanted was to drink coconuts and stay here but my time was running out and soon i would have to leave, return to sydney and the thick of it. return to work, the stress, the constant bickering, backstabbing, idiocy and pointless competition. here i was free of all those games. but what was this beast hussan and aminabi spoke of, that sounded frightening. 

once again the silence and the ambient gentle lapping of waves was broken by a heavy breathing, somewhat raspy and loud, the beast was just a shape against the night but gradually i could see it's sinister body, a twisted gnarly thing shuffling upon two long lanky legs and holding something in one of it's hands close to it's chest, something that looked like a snake. a long snake, that wrapped around it's waist like a belt. it's other arm ended in a clump where it's hand should have been.

it approached me but ignored me, and went straight to the door, banging upon it with it's clump of a hand.

'woman, woman. i ask you again, did you see foodhugigu?'

bang! bang!

'human woman, did you cast your gaze upon me?'

bang! bang!

it was terrifying, i watched because my legs were frozen and despite being invisible to this drama all i wanted to do was hide.

'woman, i ask again, did you see me?'

'yes foodhugigu, i'm sorry but when i was at the well you fell upon my gaze, it was a strange sight, you made me curious for i had never seen anything quite so ugly and brutal. and you were involved in a bizarre activity with a human skull.'

then looking again i noticed the clump at the end of his arm was indeed a skull. a human skull.

foodhugigu leapt into the air, he wailed out in a loud howling and his face contorted, savage animal teeth gnarling like a wild savage bear, as drool and foam seemed to froth from his mouth. he made guttural sounds like a wounded beast and then unwound the snake from his waist and began to feed it through a small hole in the hut. only it was not a snake, it was an umbilical cord, his own.

it was long and dripping, glinting in the moonlight. and then as it reached it's limit i saw foodhugighu be pulled towards the wall suddenly and then scream out. the door flew open and hussar leapt out with some rags and his beautiful wife carrying a bowl. hussar dipped the rags into the bowl and then dabbed the wound where the umbilical cord had been detached from foodhugigu. 

'chilli paste foodhugigu! you must leave my wife alone.'

the creature screamed out, an inhuman scream, a tortured wailing like a deep sea creature, it picked up it's cord and shuffled away. passed me, into the jungle.

aiminabi hugged her husband, kissing him passionately, she pulled him back into the hut and the door closed, leaving me standing alone.

as i wandered back to my own room, i looked nervously towards the foliage, wondering and hoping i had remained invisible to the beast they called foodhugigu.

occasionally i drop into predictive fiction, this time the current tension between china and the USA in 2034 which is a great little airport read if you like that sort of thing, nothing to really write home about but it is a reasonable look at a fictional escalation between these two countries, however if you listen to steve bannon, the war started decades ago. this takes everything to a kinetic level and it's pretty horrifying but at the same time it's still fiction.

the sequel 2054 is much darker territory and much more believable in light of vaccine technology and the current biotech frontier, it's not a easy read, far to many characters and mostly children from the first novel but it's nonetheless very interesting. again not a page turner but throws out some formidable excursions into science and the control of humanity. 

these two writers are in the know, pretty switched on and have something to say. it's worth listening to them. here we are at the frontier of technocracy and transhumanism, in which they say the singularity lies. it's a compelling argument, but humans always seem to make bad choices, and this may be the ultimate. to mesh biology and technology together may be the end of humanity but it certainly will be the end of freedom.

 

i've been in town a week but the weather which is basically cold and rainy has really kept me indoors. i've had a few car runs dropping jake here and there and some occasional trips to the shop and saturday evening a dinner out with some local friends which was nice but i was back home at 8pm in bed. the cold seems to inhibit me, and although i get my fire going and that keeps me mesmerised for a few hours there's nothing like a good sleep. i'm usually up early and pottering around, but the need to get outside seems to have slowed down, i'm definitely driven by the sun these days.

as it happens i have quite a lot of music to listen to and need time to play these cds, my big splash out was for a very interesting new boxed set by kilbey kennedy and it's come with some rare tracks, outtakes and acoustics, i also have a cd from atlantis i need to listen to, plus i was really getting into the winged heels album just before i left to see the church in the tropics so that needs more time. then there's the new waterboys, wow, i am behind music. i really feel as if i have witnessed the pinnacle of all music in those three days away and from now on, everything will be a disappointment.

strangely a few weeks ago i spontaneously picked up a new cruel sea album, a band i like due to their edge and use of hammond, they are essentially a pub band but they are good and tex has a interesting voice. the band are a typical australian band, started off in pubs and gradually made it big inside australia but  never really international. anyways, the new album is really bad, well it's not my cup of tea. i was really disappointed, it was very beige and luke warm, lacking the macho sexiness and salty vocals tex usually delivers his lines with, lacking the hammond, lacking any edge. i ended up giving the cd away and each time the person returned it saying they didn't like it. i can't give it away!

i may have to give it to my ex wife as she will like it, i'm sure.

this is a secret post

politics, has not changed one bit since this was written.

just a ruling class of incompetents, shuffled around from job to job, useless and inept, no one really knows what they are doing and the public no longer care. they have lost interest in the spectacle, stepped back from it's glamour and decided it is a ridiculous distraction.

and all these politicians will disillusion us, and themselves because politics is broken.  

Lord Lundy 

by

Hilaire Belloc

Lord Lundy from his earliest years
Was far too freely moved to Tears.
For instance if his Mother said,
"Lundy! It's time to go to Bed!"
He bellowed like a Little Turk.
Or if his father Lord Dunquerque
Said "Hi!" in a Commanding Tone,
"Hi, Lundy! Leave the Cat alone!"
Lord Lundy, letting go its tail,
Would raise so terrible a wail
As moved His Grandpapa the Duke
To utter the severe rebuke:
"When I, Sir! was a little Boy,
An Animal was not a Toy!"

His father's Elder Sister, who
Was married to a Parvenoo,
Confided to Her Husband, Drat!
The Miserable, Peevish Brat!
Why don't they drown the Little Beast?"
Suggestions which, to say the least,
Are not what we expect to hear
From Daughters of an English Peer.
His Grandmamma, His Mother's Mother,
Who had some dignity or other,
The Garter, or no matter what,
I can't remember all the Lot!
Said "Oh! That I were Brisk and Spry
To give him that for which to cry!"
(An empty wish, alas! For she
Was Blind and nearly ninety-three).

The Dear Old Butler thought-but there!
I really neither know nor care
For what the Dear Old Butler thought!
In my opinion, Butlers ought
To know their place, and not to play
The Old Retainer night and day.
I'm getting tired and so are you,
Let's cut the poem into two!

 It happened to Lord Lundy then, 

As happens to so many men: 
Towards the age of twenty-six, 
They shoved him into politics; 
In which profession he commanded 
The Income that his rank demanded 
In turn as Secretary for 
India, the Colonies, and War. 
But very soon his friends began 
To doubt is he were quite the man: 
Thus if a member rose to say 
(As members do from day to day), 
"Arising out of that reply . . .!" 
Lord Lundy would begin to cry. 
A Hint at harmless little jobs 
Would shake him with convulsive sobs. 
While as for Revelations, these 
Would simply bring him to his knees, 
And leave him whimpering like a child. 
It drove his colleagues raving wild! 
They let him sink from Post to Post, 
From fifteen hundred at the most 
To eight, and barely six—and then 
To be Curator of Big Ben!. . . 
And finally there came a Threat 
To oust him from the Cabinet! 

The Duke — his aged grand-sire — bore 
The shame till he could bear no more. 
He rallied his declining powers, 
Summoned the youth to Brackley Towers, 
And bitterly addressed him thus— 
"Sir! you have disappointed us! 
We had intended you to be 
The next Prime Minister but three: 
The stocks were sold; the Press was squared: 
The Middle Class was quite prepared. 
But as it is! . . . My language fails! 
Go out and govern New South Wales!" 

The Aged Patriot groaned and died: 
And gracious! how Lord Lundy cried!

sometimes i feel like catweasel in this modernity, puzzled by technology, it does seem like a weird anti magick to me, a sort of short cut through science. i am more comfortable with synchronicity, dream messages, coincidence and telepathy where things just happen or events happen to align with needs and desires but then half off me lives in a world i have to navigate, bills, work, other people and constructs that are irrational and anti natural. 

life was simple and free when were just focused upon survival, gathering food, maintaining shelter and security and we had the rest of the time to play. now it's just work and if we are lucky there's a window to be creative or pursue acts of devotion to the universe but that window is shrinking the more we are invested in modernity. 

however there is techno- magick, and i guess that crosses the bridge. however the algorythm is the ghost in the machine and often influences the outcome more than the magickian. yep, it's a stacked deck. now if i could just figure out how to use this mobile telling bone. 

i have a few weeks off work, i have doctors appointments, a jack frost gig to go to and plenty to do around the house, but i am enjoying being in my natural rhythm, deep sleeps and a fixed routine help me navigate the day. it feels new to only have to consider myself and meet my needs rather than several others. i'm slowly coming back to myself, old captain mission post maldives is a different one than the man that went, he's almost stress free, missing the heat and tropics but realigning probabilities and working things out. 

it's been raining all night but the morning clears away clouds and the puddles all dry up, the glistening trees and flowers in early sunlight, the sparkle on the waves, there's an energy arrived, like noah finding land, the dove returns with an olive branch and all over town people are out and about. 

i catch a few people but i'm not really there, part of me in the tropics, part of me in the breakfast buffet watching the turquoise ocean wash in, part of me waiting at the beach for the church to play, part of me just lost as i attempt to adjust to the new reality of post tropics. 

there is talk of a byron bay road trip, there's talk about the surf breaks, there's whispers in the wind about meetings and appointments, there's a big book fair on Saturday but as people attempt to attract my attention i find myself drowning in recent memories, pulled back in time to a few days ago, the invisible forces that weave time and space displace me and i'll never really be the same again.

i have a few things to do today that need concentration and commitment, the first is find some accomodation for a friend who needs a new place to live. then i have to meet jake at the ferry as he is coming to stay for a few days, and then i have an overwhelming amount of laundry to get through. the sky interphases with cloud and sun, things don't seem to dry easy but i manage to get through a big load and have to drape damp clothing through the house itself. mission control looking somewhat bedouin. I have a doctors appointment soon and need to prepare for that, lots of paperwork. i stack up the fireplace building a system that will keep us warm should we require it. there's a nice load of wood outside ready for burning should the temprature drop.

winter is coming

at the risk of sounding self-absorbed i have just had the best week ever, hanging out on a tropical island at three church shows, all in completely different locations and with different setlist and the most beautiful group of people, fellow enthusiasts who made me feel so at home and welcome. i always thought there were a handful of nut jobs like me who live breathe eat the church's music but had not met many of them and here i found a tribe of people who share the same passion, same love and same joy, it was like a church nerd festival with the indian ocean, shipwrecks, manta rays and buffet breakfasts. but the icing on the cake were the bands three nights, each completely different and unique in energy, tone and feel. 

the first was very sensual, a church i have not seen before preforming open air with the setting sun and some dusk bats circling overhead, palm trees swaying and the majestic indian ocean with its aquamarine's turquoise and teal shades, against a pastel wash of pink, light blue skies. the big old blazing sun sinking over the horizon and through the warm breeze the church played. (see setlist 1) i dunno, maybe it was just me, kicking back, feeling free and all romantic minded via exotic locations and an over active imagination, my pirate past lives breaking through but the music tonight had a new quality, it was wrapping around everyone, washing over us like the waves, warm and interesting, a setlist that was inspiring in many ways. the band looked good, very relaxed and at ease. ian and ash interlaced so well, i've begun to really notice how they play and what they bring and it’s not just craftsmanship, it's kinda sexy, with jeffery driving everything from the background like a collider spinning out particles, the rhythm section of tim and nick offer a cross section of styles and punctuations, driving forward with those magnificent super conductor notes steve plays on his bass. those bass sounds are unique, so effortless as if he's playing it the way you would a theremin, in fact there is a uniqueness to the band, who transcend labels now.

the second show was in a smaller marquee and brought back some of the energy of early church gigs, a powerful ambience of small club energy and a more frantic feel, a band moving fast, working hard and proving to an audience they had the power of the universe inside them. it was raw sex energy, and a lot of fun. even the usually stoic ash was getting into the groove. again an inspired set list that covered tracks spanning light years. or at least sound years. the hypnogogue tracks were fucking amazing live, it’s so good to hear them in this context they just transform into magnificent canvasses of aural beauty and intricate textures. i like the prog elements, it keeps the songs interesting and unpredictable. it has to be said, not to alleviate my guilt in giving steve a cold, but everyone seemed to be mentioning how good he sounded on vocals. and to be honest he did, adding to that small club early years vibe. now i’m older i don’t really see many bands with that kind of energy, it’s almost a post punk kinda thing. excellent smaller bands on the cusp of breaking into something massive have it, and although i can’t really give a name to it it’s signified in sweat and attitude, a belief in one’s own work and talent and the conviction it means something.

well, not one to predict events i did kinda see a pattern in the entrails, a sensuous first show, a sexual second one and undoubtably an orgasmic third but that last gig went way beyond orgasmic, shattering all expectations. 

this time the gig was on the beach, again at dusk but with the surf crashing down behind them, the lords of the sea had come to pay their respects as well. i had heard the soundcheck and knew this was not just an inspired set list but a set that would include some of my personal favourites.

and then it began. 

i don’t wanna bore people with descriptions because it really was indescribable but if you have seen the movie 'zabaraski point' there’s a scene in that film which i can use as a metaphor to describe the event. 

yeah that one.

now the church were in space rock persona, outdoing hawkwind, out classing floyd at pompei and dare i say it, out doing themselves. 

i’ve seen so many performances but this is the one i’ll carry with me, it was where the universe came together, where everything made sense, it was magnificent and beautiful, it could never just be a band playing a great set for me on a personal note, this was a cosmic event like a fucking alignment of planets. 

life has its markers if you know where to look, my life certainty has its own weird trajectory and share of strange events, it’s why i’m drawn towards the magickal universe, but here at the tail end of life these events all draw to one conclusion. i am blessed. 

this was the best week i have ever had, better than holidays with sexy girls, better than shamanic medicines, better than adventures in love, better than moments of spiritual nirvana, better than catching a wave. i met some amazingly beautiful people as an extra bonus, people that i really would love to see again from all over the globe, all of us in orbit around the church.

all i can really say, is thank you to The Church, especially Steve who i will always be in debt to for creating, writing and preforming the very best.

setlist one

destination

realm

comedown

fly

one day

myrrh

tristess

hotel womb

an interlude

metropolis

c'est la vie

milky way

day 5

tantalised

you took

setlist two

tear it all away

columbus

for a moment we are strangers

the hypnogogue

i think i knew

electric lash

grind

its no reason

just for you

antartica

she never said

is this where you live

almost with you

2nd bridge

don't look back

setlist three

when you were mine

already yesterday

kings

aerodrome

it doesn't change

ripple

albert ross

constant in opel

secret corners

disappear

bel air

unguarded moment

life speeds up

reptile

block

shadow cabinet

travel by thought

 

after the indulgence of a literary minded horror book i thought i'd try something a little low brow, and i picked up this novel which is set just after alien. to my surprise it was very very literate and also a remarkable story. this knocked me down in terms of exciting, i was turning pages faster than ever, what the hell was going to happen and there were so many great characters and dialouge, it was humorous in parts. 

it was easy to imagine these poor people attempting to survive one horror to another, bonding together from environment to environment, and all in the desperate attempt to get to an escape that would have been hell had they made it. the introduction of ripley and jones was a great touch, and the ending was satisfying. it was a great idea and would have made an excellent film in sequence of the greater story arc.

when alien first came out i loved the idea of horror in space, it was new and executed very well. it's a grand story and the introduction of covenant and prometheus take us to bigger questions and a larger universe. in this particular novel the small universe meets the big one but there are no answers, just survival.  

i first read the book in my teens, before i had even seen the movie and i knew it was a fantastic story but i never appreciated how well it was written and put together. it is in fact the same story as the uncut directors version of the film which has a large chuck re edited into the movie that makes it even more detailed. the chunk that is missing is the bits where regan is taken to various medical specialists and the science is followed rational physiology and psychological concepts explored. the actual exorcism happens right at the conclusion of the story and all the way through can be countered with a scientific balance. 

the book is amazing, it really is very good and if you think it's just a horror novel your mistaken, it's about so much more. loss of faith, science vs religion, love and death. even the detective whom features as a sort of minor character is left seemingly lonely and alone and wondering about what he was investigating. 

i wasn't scared reading the book, intrigued at the way wpb had written such a tight philosophical yet page turning novel. 

a friend of mine wants to build a new kinda world, utopia. another wants a better one, and another wants to destroy this one. another just wants to stop things getting worse. me i see it all as spiritual warfare. in simple terms light vs darkness, but the complexities orbit around what defines light and what defines dark.

my own thoughts are light equates to freedom. am i more free in one system of control than another, free to think, free to create, free to be true to my own self. obviously i need to limit the kind of freedom against the will of others freedom, for example is my freedom at the expense of another and what constitutes being better. the answer is in am i free to exit the system that controls me without being controlled.

if you live in a socialist society you cannot create wealth

if you live in a capitalist society you can share your wealth

if you live in a theocracy you are not free to follow an alternative 

if you live in a dictatorship you have no power or control

if you live in a democracy you have some control and some power

these are the awful truths and in order to comprehend them one must wrestle with the simple formula, is ignorance bliss or is ignorance ignorance and bliss bliss. 

does the truth set you free or does it entrap you?

me i like truth, no matter how uncomfortable, it does set you free although it is undoubtably filled with pain often and tears. just like death. just like birth.

having said all of that it's a hard life, just being and navigating other people, dealing with relationships, friendships and family let alone governments, culture and institutions. it's all far to overwhelming and often one has to watch the sunset or sunrise, clip a tree or catch a wave just to get an idea of what it is we are all within. sometimes you have to accept we know nothing about anything and if we do, what use is it. 

i have to write a bucket list. it's going to be a short one.

yesterday evening the local community met down the beach to say goodbye and scatter ashes of a young girl who was murdered and found in the river that runs down the back of my place. the turn out happened to fill the beach, and the drone footage doesn't capture the crowds of people all dressed in white. it was incredible that a community should all respond to a social media campaign so effectively and with such conviction. it was moving and very emotional. we want women to be safe.

there was a strange moment when I heard a rumble that i thought could be an earthquake out at sea, it was very bass heavy and loud. as it turned out it was the local bikkie gang, revving their engines, in a weird sycnronistic ritual. both peter and i exchanged glances and we thought something was very perculiar.

one hour later while indulging in affrigattoes to excess peter receives a text from the mother of audrey the young girl saying the man who had murdered her daughter had been found dead in his cell.

strange but sometimes events complete themselves.

 

they said it was a country album but don't believe that nonsense, what you have here is pure australiana, it is explicit in the lyrics (bar a couple of lines) and implicit in the music. what a great album, a whole collections of songs that in some way are part of a larger whole although not in sequence. i can't fathom the order but that's neither here nor there. it's lovely, very different from steve's other band or collaborations.

for a long time i seeked out the spirit of australia, i found it in christopher koch's book, highways to a war, i found it in a few pop songs, 'great southern land' being the obvious but it's a hard thing to capture, such an ancient vast continent that means so many things to many people, such a new culture still wrestling with itself with an ancient one laying behind everything but there is this conflict or clash where the frontier meets us, it's a strange interline of time clashing and steve kinda captures it in this as does the winged heels. ironically christopher koch's son is a winged heel and he does a marvellous job on guitars. this is kinda symbolic for me, as it brings together elements of australian culture in a new way and as usual steve's lyrics embody something clearly reflecting an environment of small town outback lands where people veer off on tangents and the landscape looks brutal and beautiful. and the strange environment creates strange characters. 

i was wondering about the english people who have travelled from their early years and now lived in australia for a long time, it must shape them in ways living in england wouldn't. i arrived here in 1988, i was 24 years old. but i had been living away from england for at least 6 years before travelling around making my base in new york, montreal, mexico city, parts of europe especially west berlin which was and then i ended up here in sydney. so my englishness had been corrupted by alien cultures and environments, i had lost that connection to one single geographic location and found myself building one here in sydney, meeting australians, being influenced by australian landscapes, culture and people and i adapted to it in ways i could never adapt to europa. at that time it was frontier land, and anything was possible. it was inhabited by people who seemed eccentric and rebellious, they were characters, and there was that immense other character the landscape that shaped and contoured everything. i began to match the land with the people and see how the conditions drew out something from the characters i met, and in time i think i may have become one of them. 

so as i listen to this piece of music i feel the strange people i once knew return, their outback adventures, their rage against nature, the beauty of a sunrise, the horror of remote town arrests, the wait for rain, the beer and the drunkenness, 'walk a mile in my fucking shoes' doesn't get more australian. 

musically we are in rich territory but not as we know it jim, this is far removed from the church but very very good, equal but different, very different. it would be hard to choose fave songs as they all seem excellent, i love the whole project. 'there's an island sea, where whales are swimming around.' 

there's no explicit aborigionality here but i can feel it, behind the scenes in percussion and timbre, it's strong and strange and seeps through the cracks. 'i ve seen gold nuggets bigger than your fists, the beer and blood, silver ingots disappear in the mist, you should cross it off your wish list.' 

yes steve captures something in these tunes, he's done something quite remarkable, a concept album with no real concept, other than he wrote this to go with a film project and then went on a bus journey with a bunch of art people to strange places attempting to get a movie done and dusted. the movie disappeared into the either, it was never made but these songs tell many stories and in many ways are much better than a movie, you can close your eyes and see the films yourself. 

sometimes you have to look to the light to see the dark, sometimes you have to look to the dark to see the light, it's one of those paradoxes that make up spiritual growth and life on earth. some people claim to be one or the other, especially those light worker nut jobs who parade around with their kart tolls literature and half assed understandings of quite complex concepts. i'm not saying you need to be an expert in any form of spiritual understanding, the most spiritual are just gardeners and labourers not priests or healers. the truth is a a light worker cannot say they work in the light, they bring light or they are the embodiment of light, they cannot claim any more divinity than anyone else, and if they were honest they would say they are dark workers but that has not got that nice middle class housewife ring to it, it's not quite the envy generating terminology that attracts friends and the neighbour. light worker is safer and deflects the reality of the actual work. that's why i dig witches, an ancient term for energy worker. there's something sexy about that kinda authenticity. 

there's a lot going on for me, conflicts as ego's clash against my own strength, miscommunications because people cannot understand complex english, or hear what they want to hear, avoidance and attempts to embarrass, what's that term for people who like to get the last word in....i can't recall it. anyways that's wok at the moment where i am the challenger and manager by proxy dealing with various complex personalities and generally lazy staff who do anything they can to avoid work which generally means i have to do it.

roll on may when i take a month off and follow my heart.

 

 

god the great creator controls the motion of the universe

using this idea can be incorporated into void magick, the rotas being the void. opera being the ritual, effort or energy, tenet being the controlling force (the magick). arepo being the motion and sator being the magickian. 

i've always liked this formula and was taken aback when christopher nolan incorporated into the plot of tenent, in fact it's more than the plot, it is the movie.all the elements of this formula are embedded within the film.

trouble at work, drama coming down the line

keep hold of the wheel, things will work out just fine

it's no personality clash

it's not an conflict of interests

just the same old conditions 

returning in a frenzy

jealously and envy

no matter the weather, there's always a storm

you gotta sail on though since the day you were born

no use complaining, shedding tears or wailing

wouldn't even loose any sleep howling at the moon

tomorrow will be here soon and you will see, two twins

envy and jealously.

my friend agent wilde is out of hospital after a few harrowing days, she still has a few treatments before she is in the clear, but at least she is out. the priority as soon as she is mobile and in better health is to get her out and into her new life. the blue mountains. yeah, it's far away and that will present a few new challenges but she will be in the new. ha, most people say stay in the now, i say stay in the new. i guess the new is the now but without that wanky middle class suburban housewife stain. 

anyways agent wilde is a very cool friend and my mission is to get her into the new. 

well if you like a dark thriller with a literate bent and clever twists and turns this is excellent. the first book i've read in ages that i'd say was a page turner and i couldn't put down.  

bad things happen in 3's right? or does it just seem that way?

here we have female protagonists attempting to decipher their history and the events surrounding their trauma, and each character is nested inside one another individual story, it's a great read and sam ripley is an intelligent writer that knows what his reader needs, to be challenged, surprised and entertained.
 

the name of this game is a kidnapping by keigo higashino is a a brilliantly executed crime novel about disgruntled employee sakuma who although always cool headed is a ragingly seeking revenge after loosing out to a work contract. it's easy reading but enjoyable with a quick pace and intriguing plot as we follow our anti hero strategies his game of kidnapping up until the final twist at the end. 

i enjoyed this one, it's light with good characters and kept me guessing what the twist would be, i kinda saw it coming as i reached the final part but it was a great ending nonetheless.

it was tricky in parts (the ready player one parts) but the semantic (julian janyes) parts were excellent. i managed to get hold of the 30th anniversary edition with extra content, and although i enjoyed the ideas the actual narrative was somewhat old terrain. i should have read it 30 years ago. he's not an easy writer to read, massive technology info dumps and geek like dives into tangents that may lead nowwhere but there were tangents i enjoyed here. the deuteronomists, the tower of babel, the language of binary codings, semiotics, and virus to control minds, the sumerian gods and goddesses. all excellent stuff but wow, i am exhausted from this one. 

my dad died two years ago today. it's weird as out of all the people i thought would leave me a sign he would be the one, he was so into ghosts and all that jazz. two years onwards i feel the loss, it's worse these days since when i first found out he had transitioned, he's left a void in my own little world because we enjoyed our conversations and shared a shock at the state humanity had found itself in. he would have been depressed and saddened. anyways it's made me sad he's not here to call or speak to. then again no one really is. i seem to be the last man standing these days.

it rained all day yesterday and i stayed home, just pottering around, my neck seemed to stiffen up and now i'm in considerable pain.  hot cold compress, a large warm scarf, painkillers, weed, i am in terrible pain despite my high threshold. captain pete my friend did some work on me, he is a chiropractor and knew the condition i was suffering from. it helped, as did the anti inflammatory medication my other friend gave me, so i could at least get through the day. the pain was unbearable and agonizing but for a short while it lifted and at least i could sleep a few hours straight through. 

i managed to see a few people on sunday for breakfast which was nice but very painful and at midday just collapsed in front of the tv. i made the mistake of watching the new series 'the exorcist' which lacks the gravity of the film. however the book is exceptional.

 

a local drama - young girl, 20 years old found dead in the river that runs at the end of my street. it's very sad, she had been walking home from the pub. it's effected a lot of people i know who knew her, it's hard for the community. the police are useless, really incompetent like most police these days. they have put it down to drink and falling over into the river, but she was an excellent swimmer and very bright, bright enough not to drink much. we suspect there is more to the whole thing but it appears like the police are not pursuing 'foul play.'

three days later a friend waked past the spot she drowned, the tide was out and they found her mobile phone. the police had searched the area for a phone and other clues but at high tide, so they missed the phone. they also informed the girls mum by walking up to her and saying callously, 'your daughter is deceased.' 

this young kid had everything to live for, she was joining the navy, had family and friends that adored her and a bright future. when i met some friends this morning they were all watching the sunrise, and asked how i was.

i'm always honest when people ask me these questions and this morning i was feeling the overwhelming darkness and burden of the world. humanity and people in general had disappointed me, and on a global level i could feel the awful friction and fallout our stupid leaders were driving us towards. peter and monique said, light always follows darkness, it's just everything being exposed for what it is, a revelation. i agree, but it's hard to see, i rather just watch the sunrise.

i did pop into the mind body spirit festival at the weekend, free ticket, not much on and i could feel this strange energy pulling me there despite my usual indifference at such a bland event. i needed to get out so it was easy for me to do so. the train ride in was super fast, are trains getting faster these days, that metro service is great but even the old central coast line seemed to be travelling at warp speed. maybe it was the fact i was engrossed in my book for most of the ride.

i must confess i find the whole thing very cynical and dumb, stupid stalls selling stupid products fronted by perspex models and plastique people, artificial bodies and empty minds, not much spirit at all, that's been sucked out from the corporate influence. for starters there's to many products that are technological, there's to many derivatives, it's highly packaged and plastic heavy, the books are all safe generic new age bullshit and the food is just expensive labelling with some kinda genuine amazonian cocoa, turmeric or ethno diverse sham. it actually made me physically feel ill, wandering through the tarot readers, palm readers and female centric healers. you could imagine they are all champagne sipping socialists dressed up in their culturally appropriate designs and pursuing their art in babylon, it's almost pathetic but i trawl through the isles grabbing a few free samples of nutrition as i have not eaten all day except for some smoked almonds and coffee. there's nothing here for me, until i come to an empty stand where a man is selling...tuning folks. 

now this is technology free, it's ancient technology, my kinda tech. finally i have an engaging conversation and trail a number of forks. now this is good stuff, we are taking resonance, my kind of frequency. i pick up a very blue fork, it's attuned to me imediately and when i ping it, wow, this sound is beautiful. this is me, a kinda calm and peace depends, a feeling of home. this was the pull that drew me here today, i could feel it this morning. it's the last one, it's sat there all week and no body even picked it up, the guy says it's the fork people seem to avoid and said it was strange i liked it so much. it's bass heavy, low frequency, i can feel it in my bones. maybe that's why people don't like it, it's almost sub sonic. it's the last one and it's mine. 

111kh all the way home.

over the last few days i have been experimenting with dimethylsulfoxide aka dmso, which is quite an impressive compound. used in conjunction with pure h2o and coliodal ag and mostly used topically, this is some serious stuff. again like most incredible things it comes from trees, pine trees or birches, it's a carrier as well as a curative. it's also has some interesting dispositions in that it hungers for water and it travels where it needs to go. as a carrier it absorbs whatever it is in proximity off so when using one needs to be clean and free from any toxins. and like most medicines strict observance to quantities are priority, although you cannot overdose it is quite a scientific procedure to prepare it. measurements are based around tablespoons and dilution ratios which is about as complex as i can handle these days. 

it's not something to play with, and if you are going to explore i'd recommend reading herb richards book on the subject first.

i read douglas murrey won his court case against the guardian and i'm happy for him, i never read the guardian, most of it's main features are basic propaganda and lies, their journalistic standards are low grade post graduate activists who lie, they succumb to the dei fallacy that quotas equal quality and they are ideologically driven by the woke agenda. i stopped reading the paper at age 15 when the sara tindsdale saga occurred and those arbiters of moral judgements threw her to the wolves. ever since then i knew what the guardian was and i would never consider it a legit newspaper. i'm constantly amazed at the ignorance of its readers, the way they dumb down everything becuase they let the guardian do their thinking for them. it's stupidity of the highest order. the problem is those readers are so brainwashed they cannot change their mind, even in light of facts. they are zombies, chanting dumb slogans as they walk over a cliff and drag everyone else over with them.

lately i have been watching the left wing burn teslas, they hate him for a number of reasons, he was a leftie and they feel he has betrayed their side by advocating for trump. they hate him because he no longer thinks like they do or follows their insane agenda of globalism. they hate him because he is very successful and he's only doing with doge what obama promised but never delivered. the issue is when obama said it they were clapping, now musk is doing it they are burning his cars. it's like a bad joke. the punchline is the utter destruction of the west and freedom we should value. it's been on the cards for 40 years, i saw it in 1988 and now it's festering in a violence and anger, a spoilt brat throwing a tantrum, all because the us population didn't vote for their woman. they were fed up with corruption, stupidity and a being ruled by a cabal of corrupt nutjobs. thankfully the very 'outsider' they all hate was not a politician but a businessman and although they tried to kill him he decided to lead. it's not really about making america great again, it's just about being sensible again.

i must admit i love the way the europian leaders all hate him, they loathe what he is doing, making them accountable. he's a radical maverick, just like the new argentinan  pm he's doing the opposite of what successive governments have been doing and finally the public are benefiting.