the return of the sun
blue skies
bird song
the immaculate day
starts at dawn
bathed in photonic radiation
the dream dissolves
fade out into the fade in
i watch the play of light from the balcony
pansy sits beside me sleeping, his tail twitches
a bird flies down to the table, he looks at me.
a raven or a crow
i have always been a friend to ravens and crows
they are my spirit friends
i understand them and they me...
once a crow / raven flew into my window at mission control
he strutted around and then stopped by the sink for a drink.
i had some nice ambient music playing, burning some myrrh, i threw the bird a cracker. the raven crow sat with me and cocked his eye as if to say 'cheers' then he hopped up and flew out. it was a short visit and i didn't think to much of it until later that evening when i found note in the sink. it was damp and the ink had run but i could read the writing,
'please can you help us. we are in trouble and need the help of a human. follow the messenger and he will tell you what is required.'
yes that's what it said. i re read it and wandered out onto the balcony, and there in the moonlight was the mysterious bird, perched upon a railing.
'fucking hell man, are you retarded or something?' yeah right a talking bird, i thought. 'okay we don't have much time, so if you don't mind can we get moving.i'll fill you in on the way.'
sure enough the bird hopped along by my side as i walked with him. incredible, a talking crow, who had a lot to say, 'hey mission, roll me a spliff, how do you humans walk around like this, it's so boring and tedious, i knew a bird once that had a wing injury, she had to walk for a while, walking around is crazy, fish don't do it, its undignified, i'm a royal guard did you know that, that's like very cool in my kingdom, i serve the queen, she's a beautiful queen, nice wings and smart to, of course you have to be smart to be queen, hey are we going anywhere near kfc? i heard about that food, i never had it, i don't really like eating other birds but my friends say kfc is fucking the bees knees, i'm good friends with the queen she's sent me to get you personally, she wrote that note, pretty good hand writing huh? we have err what you would call a situation, a problem, actually it's really quite a difficult situation, yeah man it would be good to score some of that kfc, so the queen calls me over one night, she's in her tree, high up, i go immediately. i'm loyal. she's a bit embarrassed i can tell. but i'm very reassuring, i have a way, a good way with queens, they confide in me, it's my eyes and soft voice, should be a dj except i don't like music much, i like some but you know the classics, american easy listening and soft rock, cheesy songs especially if they are from the eighties.
so the queens wipes her tears, she says alberto, that's me. i'm alberto, she says, i have a terrible decision to make and it's tearing me apart. now i move a little closer, not to close cos i am respectful but a little closer than is necessary, i whisper in my reassuring voice, what ever it is we will solve it, i give you my word queen, as alberto a royal sentry and as a friend to your majesty, you see how i am, reassuring in a soft gentle non manipulative way. so she starts to tell me the terrible circumstance.'
on and on the raven crow went, endless tangents as his conversation wound around in knots and circles, spirals and loops, without actually telling me what the main issue was.
'zip it bird, if you are not going to get to the point then i will just go home.'
'tetchy human, if you had wings you'd be a lot more relaxed. anyway we are here now, the queen will tell you herself, i'm going for a shower, its a shame we never passed a kfc, next time maybe, maybe if you're not busy next week, perhaps we can go together, i've enjoyed talking to you, it would be pleasant to catch up again, don't you think, it's not something we do usually but the queen reckons you're cool, maybe i'll call over, say around, 9ish....we are here.'
i found myself standing at the base of a large tree in the park, it was two huge for me to climb, the branches started to high and the base, the circumference was just massive. i looked up at the trees silhouetted against the night. then the fluttering of wings and another raven crow sat upon my shoulder.
'oh captain mission, thank you for coming with alberto, and alberto, thank you for bringing the captain here, i am so grateful, you have been such a wonderful friend.
have you explained the situation?'
'err no your majesty, he was talking all the way here, i could get a word in.'
the queen spoke again, 'captain mission, our community has a noble task, i am not certain if you are aware that raven crows have a duty to both the living and death.'
'the dead, living and the dead you mean. death wouldn't be correct grammar.'
no captain, i'm sorry, i do mean the living and death. and right now death is not happy.
alberto muttered, 'no he never is, always wants more, greedy bastard. shame about that kfc, looking forwards to next week, maybe i can bring the queen, ooh that would be great.' he continued but i stopped listening to him and focused on the queen, i was getting restless.
'we are here on a mission, we assist the transmutation of energy as it leaves the body we assist it to move, it's an agreement we made with death, and the creator. the pact was made a long time ago by my ancestors but it has been honoured without fail. energy that has not been guided will get lost in transit and form disembodied spirits, who are wandering around lost and confused. you call them ghosts but they are really just essences, fields of energy that don't have anyway to get to where they need to go, like an echo. we have been guardians of this task for hundreds and thousands of years. very occasionally we will make allies with certain members of your species. it's very rare but it does happen.'
she flew from my left shoulder and disappeared behind the tree, reappearing only to sit upon my right shoulder.
'the issue we have is there are far to many of you. your population is out of control especially as it destroys our homelands and thus reduced our population. simply put your over crowded physical world will be over crowded with the echos, the ghosts of the people we cannot assist transit. ghosts captain mission, there will be a ghost explosion. already we are overwhelmed with the responsibility. i don't know how long we can sustain it.'
'so you want me to... er do what, stop the breeders, save the forest?
'well death will be here soon, wanting souls and we have not got enough, for death requires souls that have made good passage and as i said are overwhelmed, you will need to persuade death not to react badly, i fear death will be very angry.'
i sat down and wracked my mind for ideas, mmmm, i could play chess with death, after all ingmar burgman and woody allen did it however i was not a good chess player. games were out of the question, besides i couldn't see death being interested in games. he just needed his souls. suddenly a breeze hit my face, the queen made a cawing sound, and i could hear the chorus of other birds follow suit, she looked worried, 'death is coming.'
a figure, the classic cowl and clock, the hooded grim reaper standing tall, face in darkness we waited as the figure came closer. the hood fell away and surprise suprise, death was actually a woman, a georgous one at that, wow, actually she was stunning. we shared a moment and then i knew my stratagy. i would seduce death.
i stepped forwards, 'madame death, welcome to the kingdom of raven crows, it is indeed an honour. i am captain mission, friend of raven crows here to welcome you, and may i say i like what you have done to your hair...'
a blush, a flutter of eye lids, i was in....

up and down
through the rain
in various cars
on the highways
over bridges
through valleys
under tunnels
past trees and water
from the city
to the central coast
from the central coast
to the city
never stopping
to gaze in shop windows
never stopping for snacks
never stopping
to give way forwards
never stopping
to take way back

im very tired driving up and down but im on penalty rates and i have gigs to promote and overheads to meet. i'm sleepy and catch myself falling in between blinks, i roll the window down and turn on the air con, turn up the radio and listen to a discussion about the new super collider and the search for the bosun higgs. onwards we go on my mission, picking up my packages, dropping them of, i'm a people dealer on double time.
i get home and write a new song, five hours later i have the words, music and tweak the atmosphere, it's an interesting song, it has a nice luch ambient feel and the vocal delivery is different, more softer, more relaxed, a narrative. i work on this song for about 9 hours more, i'm lost in it, exploring the tones, the colours, it's a beautiful song. once i've done my work val will add to it, his genius will perfect it, like a sculpture, i offer the uncarved block, build the skeleton, add some organs, some flesh, a heart and mind but val, he gives it blood, vitality, brings it to life.

rain falls through the night, into the day, endless grey skies, watercolours run, dogs mope about, clothes get wet, the roads are empty, the people melancholy, the day fades into that english way, i am cast back to the hell i came from, bring me sunshine, im a tropical soul, the dampness makes my bones ache.

happy xmas to those that follow that kind of thing, happy festivus to those that don't, happy day to those that don't care, me i wake up xmas day, early, we walk down the road in the rain, my dog happy to be by my side, we walk past the closed doors and empty newport and empty avalon, we stroll like it's the day after the end of the world and there's nop one left, we are oblivious to significance, we are out of touch and free momentarily, until the texts start rolling in. i reply to as many as i can and then wander back to mission control where pan gets a huge lump of meat on a bone. when i write the word huge it doesn't actually justify how big this dead flesh is, it's like a large beast stripped naked with one bone running through it. pan looks at me in disbelief, 'fucking hell man,' he smirks, 'that's way cool. can i eat it, is there a catch?'
'eat' i say, eat drink and be merry and don't forget to dream.'
i send some love into the world, it's not much, i'm older and beaten down a bit, i'm jaded around the edges, frayed and a bit shell shocked from this year, each one brings something unexpected. but what love i have i send out to those that need it, those that don't, it's arbitrary and where it falls light will shine. shine on you crazy diamond, you hate me and despise me but it is wasted upon me. you have read me wrong, your signals are crossed and the code is uncracked, you have no authority on which to base your observations, you are just a reflection, as we all are.
i sit in peace, everything somewhat still and in these frozen moments i see angels.
yes you have aliens i have angels, they are the same thing, mine are ancient and from the old testament, yours seem slightly more contemporary. they have left their mark on us either way. psychic imprints.
i pass the day and in the afternoon i call in on a friend. we go and see avitar again, she is immpressed. i tell her a little about aya, she asks me to leave, i drive home in the rain, back home, back to where i started.

time drips like a cave with natural plumbing issues, as my day is spent in a haze of tired exhaustion, to tired to even make it to the beach, the shop or the mailbox. i kill time today like a blue vishnu, my hands squeezing the seconds minutes and hours from the day into a blender mixed with seasonal cherries and some chocolate soy and later i go to see evan and leanne and hear about leannes 10 vippashnia and then we decide to see avitar again, and avitar again is just as outstanding as the first time, my mind is blown by the colour and the images and the reality of pandora and there's some lines in that movie that made me laugh, one blue skinned native says to the earthman as she agrees to let him stay in their tribe,'let's see if we can cure you of your ignorance.'

spending the night with a spartan amazonian greek goddess has left me jaded and feeling kinda wobbly, she fed me exotic triangles, while sade played in the background, she listened to my ravings and ramblings and asked me questions while my imagination played havoc with me. dressed in her librarian outfit i was somewhat at a disadvantage. it was a nice night.
i arrived home at 5am.

tom petty haunts my soundtrack, 'free falling', on the radio, in shops, on the tv, it's everywhere and i'm not sure why.
anyway i quite like it, i know it's terribly uncool but it's sentiment i quite like. i rather that song than 'still have not found what i am looking for' which haunted me for many years. nope, 'freefalling'is freedom and 'haven't found what i'm looking for,' is entrapment.
anyways enough nonsense.

i have seen the best movie ever (apart from dead man) and it's in 3D. AVITAR.
AVITAR is an ayahuscia movie. In fact the subtext is pure aya, actually not just the subtext but the whole fucking film. The planet pandora centeres around one huge tree, called...the tree of souls. Described as the interface between the central nervous system of the planet and the individual, it offers healing, conversation with the dead, insight and wisdom, sounds familiar. it's a brilliant movie with, space ships, sexy aliens, giant robots and dinosuars. but the whole plot is a message that is very fundamental yet easily overlooked. we live on pandora.

deep in the bowels of the sound basement a ritual is conducted as val and i raise the fallen angel know as lucifer, candles are lit, invocations made, val mutters the secret names while i create a physic force field and cast the banishing ritual. val tweaks and twiddles his multi dimensional sonic generator while i stand alone in a large room with a mike and the original light bringer manifests himself in a swirl of black smoke and ambient electrical energy that shrieks across the room in a blue white light blast..
my demo recordings of snuff music are transformed as we re do vocals and add various ideas to the framework. there's a few glitches, a kink in the matrix, a ghost in the machine, a spirit in the material world as some departing spirits from the mortuary next door enter our domain but they are frightened away by our guest.

yes snuff music is being born

my dear friend who i have not seen in 25 years has become something of great english spiritual teacher, his letters to me are quite remarkable and apart from being a great musician he has been very encouraging. i recently learnt that he has a new website that offers sound advice for those with philosophical or enquiring minds, those who are looking for the definitive truth. i would like to share this with you here if you are such minded. just go to
terryfulcher.com
and all will be revealed.

sadly i have cut up my finger with a fishing knife, sliced into the flesh, blood spurting out all over the place like a christmas fountain, therefore typing is quite tricky and blogging will be short and sweet today.
i have however started on the second snuff song. snuff is coming.

as they dragged me from the wreckage, i was dosed up with some weird narcotic painkiller, a woman in a white coat took my readings and they sent in a team of neurologists to assist with my brain. i was off course fully conscious.
i was still in the lab, surrounded by debris, a particle accelerator was operational and i could see a tachyon array beginning to form a field around the general area. excellent i thought, focusing my telekinetic abilities upon the computer system. the chip boards were fried in my hard drives but my wet-ware was working with the predictable reliability i had come to expect from all things from the amazon, the calculations were coming together, i could see the ever changing algebra flickering along in small data flow flashes. the neurologists looked nervous as they went into conference, i could hear the detectives organise a forensic team, they would be to late, they would never find any evidence here, neither would they really ever fully understand what i had done, they would be searching through the rubble and ruins for years but all the hard stuff was now floating around my brain getting ready to exit and that was not easily assessable. even a neuron hack would have to deal with the super firewall i had built in for protection. i had covered all bases. it would take them a week to realize the argumented wet-ware in my neo cortex and frontal lobe.
in a few moments my consciousness would be uploaded to a satellite via a light beam travelling through an 8 dimensional vortex i had opened. they would be left holding the body, a husk, a shell that i no longer needed. my brain would stop firing synaptic responses as the wet-ware dissolved leaving no trace.
i could feel my gateways closing, brain shutting down, suddenly chunks of memory disappeared, ability faded and all that would be left is a drooling and dribbling body. it had served me well but i had out grown the idea of being trapped in one unit.
i felt a surge upwards, out from my body, i could see some kinda white light, a sense of vertigo and suddenly i was everywhere.

high above the atmosphere i ( if such a term now applied) was stored in the satellite yet my consciousness was everywhere, i could focus it anywhere i wanted, like a beam. i narrowed the field, honing in upon the ruined lab, the neuron team were in dismay, they were baffled to why my lights went out so fast, the doctor looked defeated and sad and i could see the forensic team interviewing them and asking questions. i could focus further and be in their mind. i could feel what they felt and influence it. i flickered through them, surfing their neo cortex, i made one of them fall in love with another, i made the detective consider a sex change and i picked up a terrible secret from one of the forensic boys, he was a serial killer. i made him confess and then retreated my consciousness towards the problem at hand, namely the earth below.
in a few seconds a beam would open and i would find myself n direct communication with the entity known as gaia.

im a fat fuck filled with some experimental lentil meal and passion fruit and lemon desert made by my friends evan and leanne, strong wine swirls through my body straight to my head. we are all on the love boat, evan and leanne take a stroll along the deck watching an enchanting sunset while i am sneaking into the room of one of the can can girls, we fuck like it's the end of the world, while outside a giant tentacle arises from the ocean and starts taking innocent tourists, it's a cruise, right?
i tell evan about my walking in on the paranormal romance book club, about 15 young girls eating cheese and wine, discussing this new genre of writing. i've seen the titles, a sort of mills and boon version of steven king, terrible stories of love between skool girls and vampires, girls love this stuff at the moment.
they ask me to join them.
'have you ever read any paranormal romance.'
'no. i don't need to, i've had many paranormal relationships.'
the girls laugh and i get the look from a lovely lady with an eastern european accent but they don't realise i am serious. i laugh to myself.
evan talks about a time he and a friend attended a talk on angels and the speaker started the talk with the words, 'everything is everything.'
ha!
desperate people will believe any thing, even a scientists report that says the earth is warming and a tax will solve it. leaked e mails indicate the fraud but again there is no media coverage of this, nothing, it's all under the radar. people are sheep, desperate zombies, the world is run by bankers and strange occult groups they say, that's why i can't be responsible for anything, what a jip!
'a race of lizards run earth' they scream 'david icke wrote it in a book,' so it must be true.
these people are the so called new socialist class, always looking for a reason why they can't take responsibility for themselves. i dislike and distrust this in people. i'm immensely misanthropic. sure capitalism is bad, it's crap but it's the best system we have come up with at the moment, just like democracy. the only problem with these concept's is we don't follow them to their ideals. the ideal of capitalism would ensure resources are not depleted and the environment is sustainable.


it's a week of revolution, revolution within the libs, revolution within the labs, but it's the same old crap, over and over there is no escape from the cycle of political hyperbole, everything will collapse soon and we will see true chaos. it's almost time, the jungles will eat the city, the animal kingdom will reign supreme, nature will rise, man will fall, time will cease and herald peace. hark, i hear the sound of trumpets.

all day i spent with a massive head ache, i couldn't do anything but sit in a dark room and close my eyes. it was not until the sun set that i couild venture out from my room, maybe i am a vampyre after all.

you go dancing in the night clubs
because you no the dj
kiss a multitude of strangers
that's the price that you paid
to loose yourself in drugs
made mine a dark white russian
just to feel good in your absence
as the blood starts rushing

cover up your feelings
don't let down your mask
keep yourself together
just don't break your heart

you go back to the safety
of an ex lover
he may have been abusive to you
but he gets on with your mother
block out your emotions
i dare you to feel true love
as you slide down the spiral
wave as i rise up

it hurts to see us broken
it hurts to see us part
but that hurt compares to nothing
now i've got a broken heart

so keep your candle burning
and a smile on your face
you left me in the shadows
now i'm drowning in your wake
you remove me from existance
and i will cease to be
just a shadow of your ex love ex
wiped from memory

i'll howl at the full moon
about the words you've spoken
but there's nothing that can fix my heart
becuase it's broken.

yeah heart broken
who's loving you now.

here we are, a day off, and around me noise, the hammers of suburbia, the lawnmowers and electric drills, the horrific chain saw assault upon my morning peace, the hum of skool kids and the sound of the neighbors dog barking incessantly. i have to escape somewhere. find some slice of peace, it's been like this for weeks. the only peace i get is when i go to work.
throbbing head, neo cortex under attack, i slouch away, like a vampyer avoiding light, i avoid discordant noise. the shadows and the darkness of silence are my domain today.
outside the wind blows change, tony abbott is now leader of the opposition, the climate debate heats up, islam is rising, the west is fallen, the amazon is being cut, the gods look down unfavorably and our souls are cast into turmoil, all people really want is a little control over their own lives. i'm so bored with political debates, left right, it's the same old bird, and it's a turkey, i'm bored with the arguments, it's time for something refreshing, everyone in the political world is wrong, they stand for lies and narcissistic motive.t he sound bytes are tedious and induce nausea, the left wing are worse than the right, in fact the left is the right wing now. it's time to scrap the system, it has failed us.
so how to replace it, repair it?
firstly i think we need to stop the religious influence that seems to penetrate politics, separate the state from the church totally, then we need to stop the breeding of humans. bring the population down to sustainable levels and then totally put an end to the lunacy of aggressive destructive memes. the only memes that will be able to thrive are individual responsibility and freedom of expression, perhaps thelma can be used as it really does offer people a sense of personal freedom. know your will and serve it.
i will become the worlds first benevolent dictator, humanity will follow my word. no more meat is to be killed as industry, no more weapons, those that have them will have them turned against themselves. no more cars unless they are environmentally friendly, air ship will replace airplane. plastics will be banned as will the harm inflicted upon trees. humanity will no longer have borders and people are free to live where they wish, work will be as is now although with a more environmentally harmonious nature, food will be rationed equally to everyone, no one will starve. there will be plant medicine and no pharmaceuticals, there will be education that is based upon individuals talents and strengths, nurturing of these skills is important.
sports will be banned but arts will be encouraged. technology will be used in harmony with nature, the only exception being my personal space program, where we will consider travel across the galaxies a goal for all humanity.
this will unite us as a species and offer us a vision of achievement.
the earth army would be harnessed to assist people in trouble, earthquake victims, sea rescues etc.

the men where exhausted, i had driven them hard across the jungles into uncharted territory, dissent was rising, i could feel it. i consulted with the parrot, 'i guess we should break out some opium and give the men a break.'
'no way captain! that's our stash.'
'yeah but we are out numbered and i need them to carry my equipment.'
'it's a bad fucking move captain.'
'okay well it's my responsibility.'
we reached a clearing, there was a small stream and a few jak fruit trees that made a natural shelter, a good place to rest. i explained to the men we would be stopping here, having a day off and that in the evening i would be allowing them to smoke. the men looked at one another, there was an obvious air of distrust that i needed to alleviate. time for an uplifting speech and some inspiring words of gratitude.
'now i know you have all been pushed to the limit, and i am grateful, without you the mission would not be able to go ahead but we have a very important task ahead of us, one that requires bravery and resilience and everyone plays a part in its success including the humble sherpas. so good men, rest and enjoy the next 24 hours, replenish your strength and indulge your appetites, for tomorrow at dawn we continue.'
there was a rousing cheer, my speech had worked.
'dumb smucks' the parrot said.
'shh, lets go have a swim and a smoke.'
'fuck the swim, you need a bath.'
a mental image of a parrot being roasted passed through my mind but he was probably right, i stripped and put my clothes in a pile and jumped into the stream. the water was cool, refreshing and clear. i scrubbed myself with a soap cake.
the men where making a fire and helping themselves to the supplies, we had an abundance of food and whisky, good whiskey to. i let them drink and eat and sleep. the parrot flew from man to man, stealing the odd sip from their flagons while they rested. he sucked on a cigar and muttered misanthropic words to any one who would listen.
i watched from the stream, waist high in water, almost a river, i pondered if i should follow the stream to the source, that would be a deviation from the map but it seemed logical and in a way intuitive. i'll talk to the parrot about it later.
at dusk we smoked the opium, i lay back and closed my eyes, the men all settled in their delirium, me fading towards my finite peace, a moment of total pain free existence. the bird had eaten a chunk and fallen over onto my sleeping bag, his eye's half closed and his beak drooling, the red feathers standing out against the rest of his black plumage. all was well. i allowed myself to be swallowed by the comfort of darkness and dreams.
in the morning we all had mild headaches, the men looked somewhat sad and melancholy but determined, they were professionals, i watched them clean up our traces, clear away the symbols of our excess and tie down the packs, and trunks.
the parrot was in a foul mood, 'fucking hell, it's far to bright today, it's okay for you, you have sunglasses, i need a pair, i have very sensitive eyes, humans think they are the only creatures who suffer, yet they are the only creatures who inflict suffering,' on and on he raved.
i had made an executive decision to follow the stream, it would eventually become a river and that's possibly where we stood a better chance of finding the mutations.
it had been over a year since the first reports, strange hybrid animals, creatures with distorted dna, i had gathered the reports and using my astrophysicist training had identified the connection with solar flare activity and a massive gamma radiation pulse that had broken through the earths atmosphere. the mutations were probably result of that. some sort of mutation occurred with an accelerated evolutionary leap. i needed hard evidence.
the sightings consisted of a tribe of half ape humans, a massive insect described as 'a stick insect the size of a tree', some weird giant preying mantis, a flying crocodile, and a translucent jellyfish that appeared at night radiating ultra violet waves.
but it was actually the monkeys and apes i was interested in, these may give insight into human evolution. the sightings were not very specific about the area, but they were constant, despite several sources.
after a good four hours along the stream we stopped for a moment, i needed to inspect some prints down by the stream.
that's when i first heard the screams, looking up i could see about twenty massive baboon like creatures, they towered above us and with their long arms and hands grabbed some of the men. they had bulbous noses and looked slightly ridiculous. i grabbed my camera, the parrot was squawking, 'jesus getta load of their noses.'
we watched as the men still slightly doped out stumbled and ran around, one by one the monkey men took them, grabbing them with their big hands. the parrot sat on my shoulder, 'freaking apes, look at those hooters capt. jesus, ever see anything like that?'
i grabbed his beak with my left hand and carried on taking photo's. suddenly one of the apes stood before me, he sniffed the air and leered down at me.
'i said you needed a bath' the parrot said as he flew off.
the monkey picked me up and held me in front of it's eyes. he sniffed again, 'you strange monkey boy smell bad.'
the next thing i knew i was flung aside like a rag doll. i watched them march away into the jungle with their prisoners. only a handful of men were left.
later in the evening we spoke about what had become of the prisnors, why were they taken and us left behind. we spoke about a rescue attempt, we could follow them, tracking them would be easy, they were big and left a noticable trail.
but instead we smoked the opium and fell into our deep peaceful trances.

trapped on the raft i watched the men go slowly mad, the emotional stress took it's toll on everyone, but compounded with thirst and hunger the men were driven to the extremes f human behavior. being captain had it's disadvantages, despite the respect and trust i had built on the ship here on the raft at the limits of life the men were pushed far beyond normal conditions and in such circumstances often acted out of character, in fact they were all teetering on the edge of sanity, hallucinating wildly and suffering from forms of paranoia and delusion. the main concern was cannibalism which had been held at bay by my vigilance but i was getting tired and my judgement was questionable. i was now thinking there was a conspiracy by the remaining crew to eat me. my sword had kept them at bay, but i was exhausted and weak, it was only a matter of time.
we had attempted to catch a fish but the only fish in this ocean were the sharks that trailed our raft. one morning three great whites circled us for a few hours, one was the size of a small ship itself and i contemplated dark thoughts that i had to fight to suppress, anything was better than this slow death.
the sun ravaged us and our skin was blistered and raw, there was no respite from it's powerful rays, our beards had grown long our hair wild and we looked like animals and behaved less. i was laying down eyes closed waiting for a air of hands to wrap around my neck and another to hold me down, but instead each man was to exhausted to move, hunger and dehydration would get us before the sharks.
it was the cabin boy who saw it first, a shape on the horizon, a vessel. we paddled towards her yelling and waving our tattered clothes as flags, the vessel saw us and changed course. we were saved.
a Norwegian crew hauled us on board, washed us and fed us and put us to bed.
after a week at sea we were all up and about, grateful and attempting to communicate to our rescuers, who were generous to a fault.
their captain was captain urloff a serious and introverted soul, his cabin filled with books and maps, both ancient. i scanned his books, mostly esoteric, books about lost cities, sunken kingdoms and sea mysteries. i was looking at a chart on urloffs desk, it plotted a chart towards the south americas, a small string of islands of the peruvian coast. there was a small x and some numbers, coordinates indicating our destination.
urloff stood in the doorway, 'it's an island, skull island. we will be there in under a week, weather permitting.'
'what's there.'
'it's not gold captain mission, we are not treasure hunters., we believe the island is a portal, a gateway into another dimension. there are many such places on the earth, we have reason to believe this is one.' he hovered on the doorway and then plunged into the room, i moved away from his desk as he shuffled around moving bit's of papers and turning pages in his books.
'this portal on skull island is the gateway to the cosmos, we believe that it is the entrance to another world.'
i laughed, 'i have heard of such things and i do not doubt their existence, in fact i have had my own experience with these enigmas but why would your crew agree to such a venture.'
urloff smiled, 'these men are not sailors, they are physicists and philosophers, seekers of truth, our research has taken 7 years of planning and systematically checking and cross referencing, many of us have never even travelled across water. i am a seafaring man but i am a scientist as well.'
'incredible urloff.'
'forgive me mission, i must write my journal now.'
'yes of course,' i walked out, heading to the deck to get some air.

the following days were spent reading and acquainting myself with the crew, they were indeed scientists, they enjoyed sharing their hopes with my crew and their ideas were beyond anything i had ever heard. they said that space was filled with holes some of which connected up, they claimed that if you found one hole it would lead to another but that time and space can be crossed like this. they called them snake holes. i didn't doubt them but my men all looked quite bemused by the idea. they were more interested in returning to land and seeing their families again.

i was sleeping in my quarters when the bell rang, land had been sighted. i ran on the deck up to the lookout. he waved and pointed starboard, there was skull island, surrounded by fog, we could see it's jagged peaks and some treetops. uloff smiled, and passed me his binoculars, 'look captain, see how beautiful it looks.'
it was indeed beautiful and mysterious, like something from a fantasy, i looked along the coastline for any signs of life, nothing, but there was something a small trail of black smoke. something was not right though, the wind direction was east, the direction we were traveling in, but this trail of smoke was traveling into the wind, from the west.
'urloff, somethings not right, look at this smoke.'
he studied the scene for a moment.
'get the men armed, it's heading towards us.' he said quietly.
there was not much in the way of ammunition and arms, a scientific expedition, i was given a machine gun, and a couple of grenades. the men were all positioned, we waited with urloff and myself taking turns looking at the black trail heading towards us, the smoke trail seemed to break up a bit, scattering into smaller parts, and then a few minuets later i could make out they were insects, a swarm of insects, large ones, huge ones, heading towards our boat. they were man size and they did not look friendly. they were in firing range but we were reluctant to shoot until we knew what their intentions were. they hovered over us, making bussing noises and clicking to one another. the noise was loud and overwhelming. they had huge bug eyes and were quite hairy like monkeys, their silver wings were about two meters across, and they had large protrusions that i think may have been mouths. they stayed with us for about an hour and then began to return to the island. but a crew member who was manning the harpoon fired at the last remaining insect, the harpoon penetrated it's face and the bug fell to the ocean.
'what are you doing?' urloff cried.
'we need samples,' he was already towing in the bug.
'no, no,' uloff yelled.
suddenly we faced the swarm again, this time they were not as friendly.
almost in a matter of seconds they had wrecked havoc upon the men, their strange mouths emitted a high frequency noise that exploded the brain should it get to close. the deck was covered in brains, and awash with blood and twitching headless bodies. i dived below to hide, the last thing i saw was urloff running towards his quarters while a huge insect followed him. the buzzing sound drowning out the screams of men. i hid in one of the store rooms placed my hands over my ears. the boat rocked from side to side violently, for a moment the sound penetrated and my head started to pound, i prepared to die but the wave of sound passed over and soon all was still.
i pushed open the door and looked at the staircase, a body lay halfway down, at the foot lay a decapitated head and a pile of pink goop which i took to be a brain.
it had exploded from the inside. i walked carefully up the steps.
the horror that awaited i was unprepared for. bodies and brains lay over the deck, smeared in blood. there was no sign of the awful insects. the boat itself was undamaged, sonic attack.
urloff appeared from below deck, he was clutching a sword in one head, in his other was a gun. he looked dazed as he walked towards me, kicking a brain away with his boot. he walked passed me, straight to the side where he threw up overboard.
i patted him on the back, 'i'll get you some water.'
he stared at the island.

after we had thrown the bodies and their brains overboard we washed the blood of the deck and attempted to scrub the surfaces with soap but the work was hard and our hearts were not in it at all, plus the size of the vessel meant scrubbing for most of the day, eventually we settled for getting the solid mass of the ship and leaving the wood stained in blood.
urloff smoked a joint with me, he looked pensive and i knew he was contemplating the island.
'i have to go mission. i owe it to my men.'
'i understand.'
i assisted him with the rowing boat, packing it with supplies and water. i handed him my gun. 'your need is greater than mine.'
he saluted me and began rowing. i watched him land on the island through the glasses, and wave again. he walked up the yellow sand, and disappeared into the jungle.

i retired to my quarters and fell into a deep sleep. i would work out my situation after a rest. i dreampt of the jungle, strange creatures loomed out from the branches of trees, eyes staring at me, i was surrounded by invisible creatures, they made a chanting sound, whispering and the ground began to tremble, there was a vibrating sound, a buzzing. i woke with a fright. i was covered in sweat, i threw on a sarong and drank some water from the jug. it was night time, i lit a candle and sat down, i would need to consult the maps in urloffs room. making my way towards the room i became aware of the noise, a buzzing, it was softer than my dream but it was there, i could feel it more than hear it, as it send sound waves through my body. each step towards the captains quarters brought the sound nearer, there was no doubt where it came from. his door was half open, he stood there in his long trench coat, his body thin and his hands and boney fingers holding a volume flicking through it thoughtfully but his head...with it's big bug eyes.

i go down for dinner with evan and leanne, score a bag of interesting books evan was chucking out, have a yummy frangelico drink, and then eat a very nice dinner. what more can a man want from life. then leanne offers me a nibble on something she has made, asking me to guess the ingredients. the clue being it's all raw food. well one bite and i can guess the cocoa, the hint of vanilla, but the rest is a mystery. it is very yummy though, delicious, not to heavy and has a strong sweet aroma, i'm stumped. evan says, 'you can get it in any fruit market.'
well i'm just bamboozled. they have to tell me twice as i didn't quite comprehend the main ingredient.
advocado brothers and sisters the mighty advocado. fucking brilliant.


Raw Vegan Chocolate Mousse

Prep Time: 10 minutes

4 Ripe Organic Avocados
1 Cup of Sweetener (Agave Nectar or Evaporated Cane Juice)
1 Tbls of Pure Vanilla Extract
1 Cup of Organic Fair Trade Cocoa Powder (or Carob)
Slice each avocado open and scoop out the insides. Place the inside in a food processor or blender. Next add the sweetener, vanilla, and cocoa powder. Blend or process the mixture until fully blended. The mixture should be smooth and the color of chocolate. You can instantly serve the mousse, however we recommend you let it cool in the fridge for at least an hour. Serve in cups with fresh fruit or mint. Some of our favorite fruits we like to add are strawberries, raspberries, bananas, and sometimes pineapple! Now put your fears behind and delve into this delectable, healthy, and cooling summer dessert!

we had waded through the swamp for almost two days, lost a man through snakebite, one through leeches the size of rats, they leapt out and attached themselves to the face, sucking out blood from the mouth, eyes, and nose, the whole attack lasted a few seconds, death was fast, leaving a husk of flesh floating lifelessly and another man just disappeared, not even a splash.
our bodies were wearily and clothes wet, out feet ached and an awful rot had probably set in. the stench of the place was getting worse, and the heat was unbearable.
another attack another creature, this time some sort of huge wasp, except instead of a stinger it was equipped with some sort of missile attack system that fired javelin projectiles at a ferocious speed into their prey. the projectile pierced sgt. smiths chest leaving a small hole. he fell over immediately and his body was dragged down by something in the water. i managed to fire a laser shot in short bursts and clip the wasps wings, it tumbled down from the sky and fell in the jungle somewhere.
I was the only one who's laser worked, the others had all malfunctioned, the lieutenants exploded in his hand, i watched it fly across the sky the hand still gripping it in an almost perfect arc, just before it hit the water a huge spider swung down like a monkey and grabbed it, disappearing into the dense vegetation. lieutenant james screamed as he held his bloody stump up in front of his face, he looked in disbelief and then threw up.
i did my best to dress the wound but blood soaked through and fell into the water. i pushed the men forwards, 'move it, come on, hurry up, they will be here soon, let's go.'
amazonias river was filled with macro piranhas, they were the size of a large turkey, and they were more teeth than fish, deadly. we had seen them strip a man down to bone in under five seconds. blood would bring them to us. we ran as best we could waist high in muddy thick black water, in the distance a small island, sanctuary.
the lieutenant fell behind, i looked back and ran back towards him, 'hurry,' i shouted as i could see the swarm moving in. the lieutenant seemed to pick himself up and start to run but the weight of everything was slowing him down, he will never make it. i leaned forwards and grabbed his hands and then ran backwards to the land, i could see the lieutenants eyes looking into mine in disbelief. i hit the bank and dragged him up out from the water, the piranhas swam away fast but as i pulled him out i could see everything below the waist was bone. blood oozed from his mouth and he spluttered out some final words, 'look out behind you.'
i must admit i was surprised, i was expecting something more profound. i dropped him face down and turned. there up on the mound was a huge bright red flower, a cross between an orchid and a sunflower, it was massive with long tendrils flanking either side of it's stalk. it had hundreds of fine razor sharp teeth and it leaned in, leering at me, spat out something akin to a mild acid and a tendril curled around my leg, dragging me towards what appeared to be it's mouth. another tendril had one man by the neck, it stuck the mans head into it's mouth and spat out the skull, then did the same with the rest of the body, a carnivorous plant.
i reached out, as it pulled me closer, grabbing the laser, took aim, muttered, 'digest this carnivorous fuck.'
the laser fizzled, made a spluttering sound and died. the plant loomed over me blocking out the jungle, my face was burning up, my jacket was melting, a narrow slice of blue sky whizzed past me and then i realised i'd been thrown. tossed aside.
my vegetarian diet had paid of after all.
i stripped of my clothes, the plants acid had burnt right through them but only irritated my skin. it was excruciating but given the circumstances i didn't have time to mess about worrying about appearances.
i was on my own now, just me on this god forsaken planet, me and the plant life.

deep in amazonia me and the men stopped to make camp, we had been ravaged by this jungle, it had eaten itself yet it thrived, the top fed on the bottom and we were somewhere at the bottom. huge root systems and vines made our path all the more difficult, the bugs were drinking our blood, the heat was draining our energy, the noise of the forest was destroying our ears, the fear was destroying our spirit and the diminishing supply of food and water ravaged at our body. we knew food was abundant but since the loss of the guide no one dared experiment. after all if the guide can pick a handful of berries and then turn blue as his stomach explodes why would we choose to follow. our focus was a sighting a wild pig or if pushed a monkey, but so far we had only seen bugs, snakes and spiders.
there were three of us now, the other four had been sucked into quick sand, it swallowed them up fast and spat them out in skeletal form. who would have thought such cruel and brutal life exists, i'd never seen anything like it on david attenbourgh.

around the campfire we quickly fell into deep sleeps, i was dreaming about a home cooked meal prepared by my wife, her loving smile, my blissful dream, was shattered by a scream, a blood curdling one that shot through the night and sounded somewhat inhuman. we all woke up startled. for a moment we all froze looking into the flame and then we pulled out our guns and started to rise. everyone went through the ritual of inspecting their boots for the scorpions that we ceremoniously checked for but it was pointless in the dying embers of our fire. a huge moth danced around my head, it's erratic flight and strange moth dust sent a shiver through me.

the men now started to light torches from the fire and we marched out carefully following the scream, something rustled above us in the canopy, something big.
i gestured with a finger across my mouth, the men stopped their nervous whispers and followed me into the living darkness. after a few minites i turned around to check on them but there was no one there. my body started to tremor, i risked calling out, but fear had me by the throat. i was covered in sweat, my machete slipped from my hands, the flame on the torch seemed to flicker and die, but just before it did, in that final moment, the one that haunts i could make out a pair of yellow eyes, animal but tall, their eyes of a man but something more, the burning eyes of intelligence and savagery.

in the darkness i knew i could run further into the jungle and be eaten alive by the million creatures or the other possibility would be to march towards the unknown and meet my fate face to fate, look into the eyes and see what happens next. i threw down the stick next to the machete and walked towards the eyes.
each step seemed to illuminate the scene, a tall warrior like figure half man half beast stood before me, the jaguar god. his gaze was hypnotic and i could see he was indeed the king of his domain. as i strode nearer i could make out the animals in the trees, leering down upon us, there were a number of beasts standing at his side, two jaguars, snakes and birds. i fell before him thinking about mercy but part of me wanted none.
this was a place of no mercy, it was a brutal energy, constantly turbulently changing, there was no stillness, nothing was zen, the jungle is a hive of energies, the inside of the atom, everything eats everything, energy exchange on a massive scale, life gives life, there is no death here, i smiled and surrendered to the jaguar god.

im surfing again, waves carry me across the oceans cheeks, smack! here comes a massive kiss of natural bliss, one wave and your upside down and inside out, yeah i love that sudden shock where suddenly all the world just makes sense. blissed out i wander around avalon markets and hear some one yelling my name, old agent stone with a baby on her hip.
i have not seen her for a few years, she looks older and motherly, her baby is so pale, super white skin, luminous like a underground creature who has never seen light. sparkling eyes. we catch up, i get the lowdown on the dad, he's skipped town, she's moving up the coast. i have not got much to say really, what can i say, i'm an rock and roll alien on a mission, i spend my time in the ocean and with my books, no bright lights big city, i'm one big creative act, i don't really do anything, i just let it happen. we have a coffee and exchange information, i have to dash away to give pan a bath. it's super hot, everything is melting, my eyes itch, my ears tingle, the second most beautiful girl i have ever seen wanders by, looking like a, well a beautiful girl.
for a moment our eyes meet and i'm transported into a parallel life where i have super confidence and ooze sensuality and everyone loves me, i drive an italian car and have perfect skin, I am cashed up and living the highlife on my nightclub yacht with the most beautiful girl at my side, but then she walks away nervously as if she to has travelled down that road and knows she can do better.
sigh

greetings earth people, the deep fix has been rehearsing, after a long break. truth is it was looking like things had fizzled out but just when you think it's over wow, we played really well, and everyone said my vocals had improved dramatically. i must admit i was very relaxed once we started and i felt a bit more confident than before. the sound was much more gentle than we normally play, less volume and a good mix, everything level wise was excellent.
i played everyone snuff music and t seems they liked it, we also improvised around the fade out which actually sounds really good. electronica meets organica.
val was playing really well, his bass was making amazing sounds amazing music. im very lucky to have these guys, they are brilliant and they are good people. it's time to start playing live. i'm thinking about the launch now, possibly madame mings.
i'm happy :)

i've been pushing my body and poor old brain for the last few months attempting to complete my diploma for work, they sent me on this stupid course and ive been having to put the hours in, driving up to parramatta and listening to people talk and waffle on about stuff i did 20 years ago, and today was the culmination of all the 6 months effort, my presentation. everyone presented a powerpoint show, it was kinda weird as mine took the form of a comic and i thought it may be to far out the box for people to get but they were all very impressed and it certainly seemed to go down well. i passed the diploma. and now im smoking a joint.

ergo i am burning up, radio active, my skin as turned bright red and my nipples burn. this is how it is after a day out with her who must be restrained. ha.
sunday morning listening to air, driving up the mona vale road, plugged in to the north shore, watching the trees and the wind, she's a hurricane. some girls are like the breeze others like tornados, i seem to attract the wild winds but i think i'm due a gentle breeze.

strange how elemental forces are like romantic ones.

my dreams have a smiths soundtrack, '15 mins with you, i wouldn't say no...' i'm woken up suddenly by the strangeness of this dream and wander to my phone to check the phone, one missed message from the past catching up with the future, a request to go to the beach. indecision wracks my brain, what does saturday hold, i have needs that need to be met, coffee and papers and then there's my plan to go to glebe. outside walking with pan i can see the potential of the day, the city requires a intense energetic displacement whereas a beach would nurture and replenish. so we get to the beach and have a swim, the coffee and papers are in the mix, we stop at special points on the beaches, some high spot above mona vale, palm beach, avalon and some special rock where we drink beer that undresses itself and look over the wonderful beauty of the northern beaches. ah it's a perfect day, im so relaxed i could float.

my daze spend dreaming and lounging in and out the pages of various books, i catch glimpses of past lives and future ones. i exit my fugue states and wander down to have dinner with evan and leanne, oh yum what a lovely meal and frangelico one of the most anmazing drinks i have ever had, made from hazelnuts by monastic monks, large italian jovial ones with red noses and cheeks, they roll around laughing and talking in those exaggerated accents about monk lifestyle issues. leanne quickly reminds me how far away from reality that vision is.
we share a fantastic dinner, fresh home grown salad and some amazing pasta. then we jump in the car and drve down to watch the new disaster porn flick 2012. cheese factor 10 corn factor goes of the scale. i was thoroughly entertained and disgusted by the fact i was entertained by such rubbish. i guess this is what people call fun. something i was always at odds with unlike playing which i love to do.
anyway the shorts to avatar look amazing.

from the best film ever made
the best soundtrack

French girls they want cartier
Italian girls want cars
American girls want everything in the world
You can possibly imagine

Poor man eyes a rich man
Denigrates his property
A rich man eyes a poor man
And envies his simplicity.

finished red claw, really enjoyable and well written, satisfying book and lots of fun, can't wait for the movie.
okay dram unfolds at autistic central, i am being moved to a different environment and although the circumstances leave a lot to be desired i think it's all part of something better. the future is bright, although it's a wobbly time.
other stuff- girls - nothing happening on that front what so ever, where are all these available girls everyone is talking about? not here that's for sure.
music - two tracks into 'snuff music' i'm happy, it's coming along slowly. looking forwards to seeing my comrades on friday.
writing - just a few blog entries but formulating some ideas.
travel - attempting travel plans, sorting out visa and papers for expedition to amazon for ayahuscia and licking the back of frogs with the cat people and my friend tim. we will be eaten by the jaguars, well he will be, i will be licked.
$ - i'm in debt to the credit card people but what can ya do?
jake - hanging out with me, watching BSG and generally enjoying spending time with him as he makes his travel plans. we will be going to europe together before amazon trip.

time can tear down a building
or destroy a woman's face

melby cup day my good friend the infamous legal man tim clarke and i head into town for a lunch at minx, the famous underground erotic venue where over very expensive drinks and succulent fish food we watch hundreds of exotic women take their clothes of and dance in front of us.
oh yeah you think, more sleaze from captain mission and his cronies but i will have you know this was not sleazy at all, the girls were stunning, intelligent and fun, it was nudity without shame and the atmosphere was respectful. i loved it, my ideal universe. fresh fish to eat, nice drinks and some girls wandering around a la natural, works for me.
i had to drag olde tim outta there else we would have got in trouble, it was very difficult when a horde of amazonian beauties dragged us back inside and refused to let us leave but we were strong willed and resisted our base charkras selfish needs.
i love tim, he's fucking a hard ass guru who is flawed and tragic but fuck he's more evolved than most monkey men i know and he fucking lives his life by his code. that i respect.

later that evening evan calls me up to pop in for a cuppa and he presents me with... a kindle.
fuck me dead. the kindle is the most revolutionary thing that could possibly be bestowed upon me. i am in conflict, torn between my love for books and my love to adapt to change and embrace technology. evolution man. we have a ceremony, pink floyd wails lost saxophone music, welcome to the machine, wish you were here., candles burn and we open the package. fuck im so touched, evan you are such a fucking brilliant friend. i know its incredibly uncool but i love him. two loves in one day, jesus. anyways, a kindle man, i have a kindle, we downloaded 'debatable space' and later i downloaded bruce parrys new book, 'amazon.'
the kindle is an incredible device, the books arrived in 6 seconds costing a fraction of the normal book price. the machine is very light and slimline, it holds 10000 books and has a dictionary. it's just a massive change for me, impacting everything.
i'll keep you posted on my adaptation.

the problem with global political issues is they overwhelm and drown your mind with their white noise, it's better to just kick back and think about space ships and robots, i'm reading an amazing book called 'red claw' a sci fi novel that mixes hard sci fi with incredible golden age moments, it's amazing, go and buy a copy. funny to.

often i bemoan the death of journalism, long gone are the real torchbearers of freedom, now we have the usual university academic brainwashed idiots getting their info from wiki or other unreliable sources, long gone the quest for truth. the investigative journalist is dead, especially in the political arena. it saddens me that the intelligentsia are in actual fact no more intelligent than the mindless zombies pumped out by the sausage factories and ideological moronic inferno.
one of the best political journalists was an italian lady called, Oriana Fallaci whose book 'the rage and the pride' i am reading and encourage you to do the same. yes it's controversial and somewhat non politically correct but my dear reader she writes with such passion and anger, her words tear down the fabrications of intelligence and penetrate the truth, unsavoury as it may well be, i defy you to read her book and not feel her rage as well. brilliant loss to a sad world where the news is no longer news.

okay people i'm back from space, nice trip, watched a 300 billion year old star exploding, it's light just reaching this galaxy, quite stunning. anyways here i am surfing the net and news and other weird constructs when i discover this




not in the mainstream media at all, yet it should be.

i have no idea what's going on at the moment, disconnected and out of whack, the mescal skies send opium signs and written in smoke i read the symbolic font and wait for some sort of delivery. this has been a strange time of change, transition and movement through stillness, i am at peace but around me the urgings of unrest and discord. i should be unsettled but i am warrior spirit in zen moment awaiting the backdrop to change.
i have good people near by, the high priestess, tim, evan a handful i know but i've always gone for quality.
tomorrow i will get political.

david bowies son duncan jones has made a great little film called moon. i enjoyed sam rockwell who played the main character, he was very good. the story is set a few years into the future where the moon is being mined for minerals that assist energy demand on the earth, the mining operation is one guy and a robot with a kevin spacy voice.
there are no real special effects just a few scenes of desolate lunar landscape and a strange clint mansell soundtrack that sounds very 70's electronica.

I am currently reading 'if you meet buddha on the road kill him', it's rather excellent as far as these types of books go the author uses myth, religion and some zen tales to navigate his way through his counselling process. he's obviously a man who walks the walk and his story comes through with integrity and intelligence and humility. highly recommended.

i also finished reading the 'Black Hole War: My Battle with Stephen Hawking to Make the World Safe for Quantum Mechanics' by Leonard Susskind which was really brilliant but very demanding as susskind attempts to explain several extra dimensions without mathematics. basically he challenged stephen hawkings theory that a black hole holds no information due to it's gravity. Leonard puts together a theory that information is stored within the black hole and that our universe is in actual fact a projection, a hologram. it's a brilliant peice of hardcore science written in a semi assessible style.



i've been toying with the idea of writting an autobiography but it's an overwhelming task, i have so many stories especially about my civilian life.
anyways there's no time at the moment.

the idea of world peace is a myth, the world is not at peace, it never will be. nature is not at peace. the best we can do is attain a level of harmony. peace is a personal state. a man at peace can walk into a war zone without fear. for him the war zone is like two atoms colliding together, this is nature, when the lion devours the gazelle it is not peace neither is it malice, it is nature. for man to assume he can live with his fellow man without ever engaging in conflict is a stupid thing to claim and it's aspirants live in a hippie dreamland. giving obama the peace prize was another nobel mistake. those swedish / norwegians academics need to really look closer to home before judging outside their own boundaries. create peace in your own life, create it in your family and friends then your town, and country and when your country is at peace you may have some grounds to comment on another countries inadequacies. The only exceptions for this is if your harmony is threatened. they may as well give the peace prize to my cousin micheal who also dreams of a peaceful world.

i'm the final kiss written upon fresh lips, just like ripe peaches and cream, i'm a flesh machine, he's breathing oxygene, i'm the heavy metal cloudburst, with an ancient ghost dancing, over our heads and under our feet, my guitars on fire with a new passion, and the chords ring true and they ring for you. yes all bets are off.

i have a very good friend in evan who lives down the road, sometimes i just wanna drive down say, hey jump in my car, and we will drive all the way to the sactuary where there will be mute girls in bikinis and our hounds will run up and down the beach chasing waves. evan and i will sit under our tree and watch the blue skies over the horizen. pink floyd will play 'echoes' and it will seque into 'dark side'
i will tell even the story of my life and the strangeness will leak out from my ears and pour through my eyes. evan will say something funny in a homer voice and we will laugh and laugh until we have to stop to grab air from the sky. our dogs will look at us wanting to join in the joke. a shadow cast along the beach and the atlantian current is revealled. they come in silver suits and take us inside with anti gravity rays and technology that looks like magick. my father awaits, he wears a crown of sea horses and a cloak that can make him invisible. evan and i are taken away by beautiful atlanitan women who bathe us and offer us food, they are naked and blue skinned. one has green eyes the other grey. we sleep and fall into pleasant dreams and our lives are sweet. pain is gone. the emptyness is gone, we are home.

strange weather, cold and windy, head hurts, chest feels heavy, the day seems lost already and it's not even mid day. telephone line ever busy, some people just want to disturb the peace, some need answers, some like to talk about their husbands and others just wanna chew the fat. i stumble into the early morning like an old wizard or druid, walking through a hurricane is like swimming through thick fluid. aggressive birds swoop with their prime directive, the noise from the nest is deafening and gives me a head ache, it's not the joyous sound of spring but a sharp penetration, peace is elusive even in nature atoms smash into one another. i look at the angry skies and me and the dog head towards the ocean where the waves smash across the shore line pounding the sand in chaos and entropic disarray. i flick through the papers, it's full of opinions, no news save that australia is a racist country due to some tv scandal. i have to suppress laughter, i could have told them that but if they don't want to listen to the parting words of sol telecomo why listen to me. news or not news. we must move forwards. i wander through the gardens, cut across the park where i am surrounded by friendly orbiting larks. we penetrate the atom, getting closer and closer back home. i hear some one call my secret name, evan has returned from the north. sanctuary. we sit in his lovely kitchen having tea and laughing madly. topics covered are religion, science of black holes and our fave simpsons episode. then i continue onwards dodging the birds and home, another sanctuary.

And now, the ballad of the question
What keeps mankind alive?

You gentlemen who think you have a mission
To purge us of the seven deadly sins
Should first sort out the basic food position
Then start your preaching, that's where it all begins

You lot who preach restraint and watch your waist as well
Should learn for once the way the world is run
However much you twist, or whatever lies you tell
Food is the first thing, morals follow on

So first be sure that those, who are now starving
Get proper helpings, when we all start carving

What keeps mankind alive?
What keeps mankind alive, the fact that millions
Are daily tortured, starved, silenced, and oppressed
Mankind can keep alive, thanks to his aptitude
For keeping his humanity repressed
And now for once, you must try to face the facts
Mankind is kept alive by bestial acts
And now for once, you must try to face the facts
Mankind is kept alive by bestial acts

car crash as i drive into the city
drunk girl gets out and starts to make escape plans
traffic builds up around me
people start to anger
captain mission directs the monkey civilians
gets details from the drunk girl
uses technology to get information, phone camera takes photo's of licensee.
phone notebook gets licensee number.
interruption to traffic flow minimal.

christopher hitchens wields his great intellect and brilliant experience upon the poor small minded audience at the abc, he cuts down his peers, he destroys stupidity and ignorance something sydney is not used to. how refreshing to see some one who is not aligned to any political party and thinks outside the spectrum of colloquial attitude.

while i can't find any video of the show i did find this entertaining chat. al sharpton and hitchens in the new york library debating religion. question time is brilliant.

it appears i have asperger’s syndrome, which explains quite a lot. further investigations required. transmission out.

as i gaze down upon the beautiful monkey planet from my space ship i can see the general madness as you beat around the deciding what to do with the earths rapidly changing climate. no one wants to take responsibility as usual, sure lots of meetings as world leaders fly around in their aircraft and eat expensive food and share lots of hot air in rhetoric and debate but actually in the last 10 years what actually has changed. nothing except the situation is worse. awake monkey minds. time is running out for you.

actually i'm in sydney swimming in the surf, its a beautiful day, like december the middle of summer except that it's spring here. the waters great waves perfect and i started to burn so i came back to mission control. what a glorious day.

the last sentence of bruce hoods book gave me a smile. he concludes his work with the statement about humanity being a sacred species. that at east offers some sense of conclusion. science is just the same as any religion, it requires faith based upon certain fundamental laws or 'truths' or principles. and these principles are unreconciled at the moment, they are not 100% fact, they are almost. when one applies the principles to other dimensions they fail. the truth is the universe is subjective, it's closest analogy is it's a hologram.
now how supernatural is that, yet it's based upon good science. the idea that the universe is a holographic representation is as bizarre as anything supernatural in bruce's book. i think arther c clarke nails it in his three laws

When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong.

The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.

Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

i noticed a comment in bruces blog aimed at my views. it's author uses a bullshit detector to derail my thoughts. yet he falls right into the trap that i state, which is science is in danger of becoming a religion. his fundamental idea is that this idea is bullshit, yet he does not identify that i start my statement with the words, 'i think', or 'i fear.'
the very horrific fact is some people cling to science as a fundamental truth as much as any religion and they all want to drag everyone into their perspectives.
the consensus reality is the one we make, just because i think something different does not mean it's wrong it just does not subscribe to the consensus but i would never try to force my values upon anyone else as long as they respect mine.

i received a long awaited letter from an old friend martin von donaldson in berlin, he was writing to tell me he had heard 'adventures' and really liked it but that the songs were to long.
i concur although at the time it seemed reasonable.
it was good to read his letter, hand written from another time. old martin does not even have an e mail address so it's hard to keep in contact. i occasionally write to him but rarely do i hear back.

on a sad note vale loius' father.
i never met him but can tell loius has a lot of respect for his dad.
it's awkward to know how to respond to some ones death, so many things to consider. i want to empathize with the loss but also share enthusiasm for the transition. either way if i say to much i would offend some one. plus i don't really know how to deal with the fact my father will die at some point in time. it's an awful thing that no one is really prepared for yet it's natural. all i know is death is not the end.

bruce hoods book continues to stimulate and he describes death in this wonderfully scientific way describing it as a continuous stage of life as energy converts but all the way through never acknowledging the idea that there is purpose to this law of physics.
later in the book he describes the way the tibetan monks choose the next dali lama, letting the child choose items that the old dali lama treasured, he describes an experiment where children are asked about a cardigan worn by a well loved and respected tv personality who was an all round good guy, however i think the experiment would have been more conclusive if they had been asked to choose between fred wests cardigan and this saintly tv figure. this would show if children are able to 'feel' the energy from the good or evil cardigan. they would have to be authentic though, although i guess as a control one could use fakes. either way i'm still impressed by the book although a bit confused by what exactly the super-sense is. to me consciousness is a collection of sensory and super sensory input, instinct and intuition are all part of the same thing. information that we process using our minds and brains. sure some people use belief indiscriminately to the point of stupidity. but that's the difference between a meme and a spiritual connection. the meme demands expansion, the spiritual idea is quite content to just be.

down on the street i'm involved in a chat with some knowledgeable sorts who seem to be under the impression that objects possess a soul. considered this over a cup of tea and i conclude i cannot prescribe to this idea. i guess firstly one needs to define what is meant by a soul, to which i was told as soon as you ask the question you are a step away from defining it. but language is the only tool available so i continue to ponder the question what is a soul.

i came up with the notion that the soul is the part of the living organism that has intent that is not attached to the material world. therefore when one feeds the soul by looking at a sunset it is not looking at a physical object interacting with another but an aesthetic sequence that is indefinable in beauty as the soul is in words. the reason it is indefinable is because once it is reduced to physics it has lost its beauty. therefore the sunset is not just physics.

anyways it's by the by, who really knows what's what in this old world, i don't, i'm just clutching at straws like everyone else, attempting to speculate upon things with my tiny brain and limited knowledge. often i come back to the fact existence is excession. no more can the ant ponder the spiral arm of the galaxy can we ponder the meaning behind the universe. our brains won't let us unless we put them together along with our minds. somewhere i read that our minds are in fact one mind. how cool is that, you who read these pages are in fact sharing my mind and i yours, like water in the mind exists in several states yet it is all part of the same thing.

halfway through super sense by bruce hood and it's freaking me out slightly. the guys is a rationalist and firmly presents good evidence as to how the brain is hardwired to look for patterns and meaning in random events. it's a persuasive argument and presented in a lucid easy way however i feel mr. hood needs to really get out of his mind on some psychedelics before commenting on reality further. the brain he talks about is the one that filters information, it's the standard brain hardware version that most humans are born with the one that the central nervous system filters as information flows in. when the psychic center is opened reality changes as does ones perception of it. and it is here where the weird shit occurs. i'm enjoying the science in the book but it's based on a very standard version of supernatural ideas. once your brain has an ayahscia experience the idea of super nature appears straightforwards.
another thing i dislike about the book is he does not differentiate between super nature and the supernatural. for example he talks about how people would not want to handle a fred wests cardigan for fear of what it represented or some evil inherently within the item. this has nothing to do with nature and more to do with superstition or fear. if the constructs of the mind are dismantled the idea of inherent evil is pointless.
nor is the idea that evolution can't exist hand in hand with intelligent design. why can't the designer use evolution?

apart from these issues supersense is a very interesting read, well written and well worth reading.

this morning i awoke to a martian atmosphere, yes indeed i was on the red planet. despite it being incredibly warm and windy a massive dust cloud had descended upon all of sydney and engulfed us in its atmosphere. it was quite surreal and ironically at the same time the UN were discussing climate change in NYC. i think they had some nice champagne and told lies to one another like most political animals. they probably throw the press a few soundbytes and pose for a photo opportunity, appearing concerned while watching the neon from the back seats of stretch limos. its a strange day on planet earth.

well here i am back in sydney after a wonderful adventure in the bush, yes capt. mission and the great god pan went to st. albans where we camped out under the stars. i'm not a camping kinda guy, the whole idea is kinda alien to me being a city man but after all my babbling on about constructed reality i figured i should get a big dose of the natural world and the people that inhabit it. nature is perfect. after a decent meal and the best rhubarb crumble ever in the old stone pub i lay out on the sand down by the creek bed and looked at the massive expanse of stars. after star gazing for a few hours i fell asleep and in the morning awoke to find the mist rolling in across the meadows and valleys, such beauty. the birds started making a racket and i figured it was time to head back home, down the old dirt road, across the river on the wise mans ferry, down the winding road past the george onto the highway home, and without stopping for much straight to the city where i saw V in concert. although slightly nervous he played a great set of incredible songs, yeah there were moments where it he forgot the words but no one noticed and i think it was a great night. performance is not my thing either, i'm not looking forwards to playing these songs out there in front of people but i need to sell some cds and this is how you do it.
i've written the first song to snuff music and struggling with the second, its a different process this time as i'm actually using my brain and the songs are not flowing through me from some where else, these songs are well thought out and involve a certain planning, the words are carefully written, not stream of conscious yet at the back of my mind it's all from the same source and all the same process, i'm just aware of it more. i like snuff one, it's my fave song i've written, and it's really an opportunity to do what i enjoy most which is write words.

okay while i don't agree with mr robertson on some things i have a lot of respect for his view and i think generally he is a very switched on guy. here is the only opinion that was written during this period that categorically takes a stance against scotland's move. lybia headed the un human rights councils and still contributes along with several other dictator state especially if it means the un get to put the boot in to israel, which they do every chance they get. what is remarkable is the last comment below. it indicates why the left wing are so fucked up. and so popular. because people generally are trapped in moronic political moral mazes that cannot distinguish a good move from a bad one.


'Compassion' for a mass killer is a coup for Libya's dictator
GEOFFREY ROBERTSON
September 12, 2009 Comments 6
Colonel Muammar Gaddafi may be the worst man left in the world but last week many heads of state visited Libya to pay tribute to his 40 years of vicious dictatorship. On September 23 he pitches tent in New York to address a United Nations session chaired by Barack Obama.

His victories continue: the Swiss Government has made a grovelling apology for daring to detain one of his sons for brutally assaulting servants. His finest coup, other than that which brought him to power, has been to celebrate the Lockerbie atrocity by welcoming home from a Scottish prison the man who committed it - undoubtedly, at Gaddafi's instigation.

By what perverse process has the godfather of modern terrorism been allowed such a triumph?

At one level, the low parochial level of a Scotland recently "devolved" so it can administer its own criminal laws, Gaddafi's triumph may be put down to human error and indeed to human stupidity.

Al-Megrahi was convicted of the cold-blooded mass murder of 270 innocents on Pan Am 103. Eight years into his sentence he began a fresh appeal, and contracted prostate cancer. He made an application for bail so he could live under "house arrest" in Scotland while preparing his appeal but this application was rejected by the Scottish appeal court last November. It pointed out his condition was "very unpredictable" and "his life expectancy may be in years". A few months later an egregious politician intervened. The Scottish Secretary for Justice, Kenny MacAskill, an undistinguished lawyer, freed al-Megrahi in the name of "compassion", a virtue he claimed to be specially embedded in Scottish law.

There is a place for mercy in every justice system. Primitive countries offer arbitrary pardons to celebrate the ruler's birthday but more advanced systems require "compassion" to be rationally related to the mental state of the particular offender. It is extended either because he can be forgiven or because he is genuinely to be pitied.

Al-Megrahi, as an unrepentant and cold-blooded mass-murderer, is unforgivable. The notion he could be pitied, allowed to end his days in Libya as a national hero, was ridiculous. The pardon bestowed by MacAskill was not, in law or in logic, an act of compassion. It showed kindness to nobody and rewarded the wrongdoer.

The Justice Secretary visited the killer in prison (he did not visit relatives of his victims) and relied upon a promise from Libya that his reception there would be low-key. What sensible minister would believe the promise of an unpredictable terrorist regime? He acted with unseemly haste, making his decision less than four weeks after Libya's application. It must have been blindingly obvious that the release of Megrahi would coincide with Gaddafi's 40th-anniversary celebrations, and be hailed a triumph. It must have been equally obvious it would be an act of cruelty to all those who have suffered from Libya's terrorist crimes.

The decision was supported by a few soft-hearted and soft-headed Edinburgh clerics, entranced by the idea that it reflected forgiveness. But Bishop Joseph Butler warned against hasty and uncritical compassion, irresponsible because it compromised important Christian values such as self-respect and respect for the moral order.

MacAskill's "compassion" was irresponsible because he bestowed it on an unrepentant perpetrator of what Immanuel Kant termed "radical evil," at a time and in a way that enables him to be honoured as a national hero.

The Scottish Parliament desperately attempted to regain its reputation by condemning MacAskill's decision. But the damage has been done, especially to the worldwide campaign to abolish the death penalty for international crimes. This relies upon the validity of assurances genocidaires and torturers and terrorists will never be released. Now, such assurances cannot credibly be given because MacAskill's action so vividly illustrates the risk that, within a few years, politicians will breach them.

Was this simply an irresponsible decision by parish-pump Scottish politicians, or was the British Government really pulling their strings? There had been long-running negotiations between British ministers and Gaddafi and his son, Saif, over trade, in particular British Petroleum's access to untapped Libyan oil deposits. Al-Megrahi's release was always, as Saif admitted, "on the table", so there was suspicion it may have become the quid pro quo for the success of BP's contract bid.

If the British Government really had been orchestrating the release behind the scenes, using the Scottish National Party as cut-outs, this would have been an astounding breach of faith, since, in 1999, the then foreign secretary, Robin Cook, promised Madeleine Albright that al-Megrahi would serve his full term (27 years) in custody in Scotland.

The stakes must be extremely high before Britain will defy the US. The Labour Government shows inordinate servility. It has, for example, accepted a bullying US extradition request to put a Scotsman suffering Asperger's syndrome in prison for up to 60 years for hacking into Pentagon networks (he was searching for evidence of UFOs and left a message "Your security is crap"). No decent person in Britain believes he should be extradited and the Government has made itself extremely unpopular by insisting American wishes are its command.

Would the British Government really incur US displeasure to help British Petroleum to 590 million barrels of crude oil?

Up to a point. After a week's astonishing silence it emerged Gaddafi and son were assured, during trade talks, that although it was a matter for the local Scots, the British Prime Minister did not want him to die in prison. This wink seems to have secured the Libyan nod, and the trade deal went ahead.

The Foreign Office, always anxious that commercial interests should prevail over ethical concerns, was well aware Gaddafi was consumed with guilt over his decision to send al-Megrahi to trial, a sacrifice necessary 10 years ago for the lifting of UN sanctions crippling the country, and dangling even a possibility of al-Megrahi's release would sweeten the deal.

The British Government walked a verbal tightrope, telling the White House al-Megrahi would die in prison while secretly assuring the Libyans it did not want him to. Then, when he contracted prostate cancer, it tipped the wink to the Scots there was no national interest at stake if he were released.

The "useful idiots" in Scotland did the rest. It might have gone down in the twisted annals of British diplomacy as a great success, if only the Libyans had kept it "low key". But you cannot trust international criminals and you cannot trust Gaddafi.

Anyone who has studied Libyan governance knows if al-Megrahi's guilty, Gaddafi gave him the order. There is no way a decision to commit an atrocity of this magnitude would have been taken by his intelligence services (run by his brother-in-law) without his knowledge and approval.

For more than 30 of his 40 years in power, Gaddafi has run a terrorist state, initially sponsoring and training the most violent terrorist groups and supplying the IRA with much of the semtex it used to bomb British citizens. He ordered the assassination of Libyan opponents of democracy (calling them "stray dogs") at home and abroad. Al-Megrahi's colleagues have been convicted, by a French court, in absentia of the bombing of a UTA passenger jet. And Gaddafi has encouraged mayhem throughout Africa.

So how did he come in from the cold? Quite simply, he became afraid of al-Qaeda and the Islamic fundamentalists who despise as blasphemous his "green book" version of Islam. To preserve his dictatorship and his dynasty (Saif will succeed him) he allied himself with the West after September 11, providing intelligence about nuclear trafficking and disclosing all his dealings with the IRA.

The Bush administration decided his isolation must end. But because the US could not be seen to deal immediately with a terrorist, Tony Blair was dispatched in 2004 to welcome the colonel into the Western fold.

Blair met Gaddafi in his tent. The colonel pointed his bare feet at the prime minister (an Arabic sign of contempt) and then broke wind loudly (a sign of even greater contempt). Gaddafi's fart went unreported by the loyal Blairite press ("We were writing for family newspapers") but it lingers on as a symbol of his true sentiments towards the West and his insouciance about his past crimes.

These crimes are too distant to permit the attention of the International Criminal Court, which can only consider atrocities after 2002. But the prosecutor of the UN's war crimes court for Sierra Leone may take an interest: Gaddafi is accused as a co-conspirator with Charles Taylor, who trained in Libya along with Foday Sankoh, the leader of the rebels who razed Freetown in Operation No Living Thing. That court has held that sitting heads of state have no immunity from prosecution, so an arrest warrant might validly detain him in New York.

There are other legal possibilities. Unruly rulers (like Karadzic, Mugabe and Marcos) have been subjected to civil actions under the US Alien Tort Claims Act, although they cannot be obliged to wait around for the verdict.

There are other prosecution possibilities, yet Gaddafi struts the world invulnerable, not because of his strength but because of the weakness of international law and those who have a duty to apply it.

Geoffrey Robertson, QC, is a member of the UN Internal Justice Council and the author of Crimes against Humanity.Peter Hartcher is on assignment.



As a person who vividly recalls the day of the Pan Am crash, living in The States, who watched the collapse of the airline as a result, the loss of so many innocent lives and the aftermath, the recent decision in Scotland (no doubt not reflected by its people or by that of any in Englad for that matter) is a disgrace of massive proportions. Where is justice I ask? But more importantly, where is the outrage? Where are the people asking more of their government and of those 'allies'? We should all be taking action, if, in no other means than just voicing your opinion. Hope this new website takes off so voices can be heard, read, but more importantly, action taken as a result
Pan Am | Gold Coast - September 12, 2009, 1:34PM
Exactly...how is it that Lybia has enjoyed such relative anonymity, such passive engagement with the world, yet world leaders will not step up to the plate to acknowledge their role in such atrocities. Yes, the damage has been done with the Scottish ruling, but the damage was done years earlier, and so many families suffered as a result
Lock-er-bee | Sydney - September 12, 2009, 1:38PM
Thank you for the above comments. I too can remember the awful day. It seemed the worst thing that could happen...but then 9/11 happened...and now it is September 12, 8 years later...and the Scottish government made their ruling. I find myself asking, "how"? But then again, how was Bush RE-elected?
Li--bee-a | Northern Territory - September 12, 2009, 1:42PM
"Celebrate his dictatorship." Disgraceful, isn't it? Seriously, can you please name the 40 world leaders who visited after the Scottish ruling? I think we all deserve to know.
Fred 45 | VIC - September 12, 2009, 2:02PM
Don't get me wrong, I'm all for forgiveness, but AFTER an apology, which, correct me if I'm mistaken, we (the world) never got. Sure some millions of dollars from Libya to the victims (some years later), but no guilt, no apology, no acknowledgement of association and now, the guilty party welcomed home a hero. Can you name the heads of state that went to visit...and celebrate his dictatorship?
Stephen | Surry Hills, NSW - September 12, 2009, 6:22PM
why is smh censoring any criticism of this article? there were 8 or so comments this morning- most of which were critical (including mine :) - now i see, some 8 hours latter, there are only 5 comments, all of which support mr.robertsons stance- this has got to be news worthy.
hello mr censor