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.