slipping on my smart suit, slipping on my banana skin shoes, wearing my palm tree shades, fake lizard skin boots, a moon powered ray gun concealed in my shoulder holster, i wear my fave church tee shirt, the one with the deadman, i zip along in my chameleon like space bubble, exerting my will on the vulnerable girls i meet along the way, feeding them up with some nova experience, can't be a saint in this city if ya wanna get bi, i eat some red berry's pop a few cherries, tango with a mango, catch a ferry with a blue berry, yeah but the papaya gets me higher. so we shake some action in some fruity club where the moves are retro combat pop and the dj wears a red lycra suit. glitter balls revolve, spinning photons in a swirl of lsd like proportions, yeah just need to get jazzed up.
my dealer sits with the queen of the dead and a sexy redhead, they are sharing exotica and wearing erotica, she introduces me to the redhead, 'this is fantasy.'
fantasy immediately attempts to glam me but i'm immune so that makes her try harder. she's pouting at me, as i catch glimpses of her tongue, i focus on my dealer who looks pretty hot in her pvc outfit. she's leads me over to a doorway, fantasy follows, i wander in and sit on a peach sofa.
ten minites later we are up close and intimate, sharing a large jazz joint and some bliss drinks.
the bliss kicks in fast and suddenly we are all immersed in a sensuality environment, it's part jungle and part beach, tropical. i feel somewhat easy, light headed, the girls are getting involved. bliss is a hard one to fight, i can basically dimly recall the environment is composite, formed from a collective as our minds merge.
fantasy seems top wash over me, like a wave, and my dealer, who often goes by the name roxy glides through me like a ghost. all things begin to merge, transmutation, our bodies are now one, our minds one, and the erotic charge that runs through us is one, bliss envelopes out, pulses and radiates, i can feel my ego dissolve away, i can feel.....
time
space
bliss
the landscape of erotica merges with esoterica, esoterotika.
we awake together, simultaneously. we are one now, the three of us. we can never really separate.
it's a good feeling, intimate. every corner of our minds bodies spirits are one.
the holy trinity.
i smoke a jazz and start smiling, it's roxy smiling but it's also me, then i feel fantasy smiling and grinning at us, we all smile. the possibilities are endless.

i should be in bed dreaming of wet tee shirt competitions and jelly wrestling nymphomaniacs, i should be at the art house bar in the city wooing my brothers secretary, i should be having wild sex with a blond and a red head, i should be meeting a friend for a drink in the city, i should be watching 'true grit' i should really be in the bath relaxing but instead here i am, home alone, writing up my stream of consciousness.
it's been a huge day, cram it all in, i did, and everyone is satisfied except those that i stood up and let down, they must feel slightly disappointed. but i am sorry, this is my way, it don't mean i don't want to be with you, it just means i need to write, i need to be home at mission control. so i am.
i slip into my default mode, a mode so faulty it's actually alien to most of you, but that's okay, i chose experience and kept some innocence, i still believe in love. what does that make me, a fool, a high priest, a hanged man, the lovers, or the magickian?
ha well i guess that depends upon you.

she's looking rather spectacular in a frill, desire travels fast, even with the kids running around us like atoms inside the molecule, she emanates a radiance and all i can do is bask within it, words defeat me, i'm to tired for small talk and chess demands my complete focus but i slide of the rails early and play badly but it's okay my board has passed into good hands, there is an advantage in learning chess young. i know that. there's an advantage with our friendship, but im looking at her skin, i'm wanting it badly. i'm always playful around this angel, she's igniting my playful energy like a little nymphette.
i arrive and return from where i came, all the way seeing that natural beauty, thinking, it's not mine, wanting it even more. we skim conversation, skirt around peripherals, and then as we drive up my street we casually mention what we both know, the conversation we have not had yet, but it's coming and you and me are a team weather we like it or not, i don't quite know what game we are in but its a really nice one so far.

need a soft landing, pray for a soft girl, desire a soft ride on a softly melting day, want to put my head down on a soft pillow and sleep for a thousand soft years, wake up to a soft machine in a soft climate controlled car that drives me to a soft city with soft people and soft breeze on a softly temperate evening. walk into a soft bar with soft strippers and soft rock playing in the background and soft drinks and softer colours, a softness surrounds you and inside your soft head you relax.
the softest voice offers you a soft option, the softest whisper from the softest lips, the soft kiss and her soft skin, the soft sinking, the soft scent of her, the soft landing.

trapped in conflict, between a rock and roll and a hard place, it's loose loose, but what the hell, i'm not a sore looser, but i wasn't expecting this, disappointing others seems to come naturally, no matter how much i do it's never enough, in the end i'm gonna fail. in the end i'll be okay. in the end we all will. that's love.
well enough about that, what's new is it's inconcievably hot, days that shadows melt, personalities slide into their defualt, tempers fray, words that should never be spoken are, cars stuck in tar, trees droop, it's a great day for sex, it's a great day for cold drinks in air con luxury but me, i'm sweating and sliding all over mission control, it's like a greenhouse, my plants all love it, but me, i'm really in need of some thing different, something for me, some nurturing, some thing good, it's moments like this when i'm gasping for air drowning in the heat of sadness i miss my future.

my soft dream of being in a pillow fight with a bunch of young barely legal girls is hijacked when out from the falling feathers miss cupcake marches, the scene changes to some sort of new york school of preforming arts and we are in a class where keys are being moulded into different shapes and ours are not unlike certain marital aids, i am angry, where did my fantasy go, miss cupcake is all cheerful knowing fully well she has sabotaged my dream. i think i am about to shout at her where we are dragged into the building where a party is in full swing. bands play, people pull us separate ways, there's high ceilings, bridges and strange italian architecture everywhere, moats, turrets and baroque looking structures. people are all in good moods, laughing, singing, shouting out in merriment, i attempt to leave, it's becoming the kind of thing i dislike, but cupcake is gone. so i wander out into new york, still angry that my dream changed and its more hers than mine. damm! i'm thinking she even disturbs my own private dreams. and then there she is running after me, with her key shaped marital aid in her hand. i'm happy to see her and i wake up as we disappear into the new york morning, but i'm also disturbed by her infiltration.
i go swimming, i walk the dog, i head down to meet my dealer, i end up swapping stories with her, i drink a coffee, read some news and start my dion fortuna and alister crowley book, and im immediately blown away by her. she is indeed the missing part of my puzzle, all the gaps are being filled, samantha mayfair i knew you were some sort of avitar type personality but you have no idea how much this means for me. i know crowleys limitations, he was a man. he was destined to fail, but fortuna, fortuna is the bees knees. thank you.
so head emerged in book i miss all the usual things i should be doing,. writing letters, paying bills, catching up with people, nope, i am emerged into her world now. i need her, it's exactly what i've been waiting for.

cascade of sounds, the heat is melting my words, sand burns my soul, any second now the beach will turn to glass. i swim in the cold currents, the water engulfs me, these are big waves but they are weak and have no substance, no power to propel, i play like a human child, i enjoys the cool water currents, i watch the people around me, bronzed surfers sit waiting for waves that never come, beautiful bikini girls sitting naked on the beach, the splatter of thin cloud, the distant sounds of beach hassles and dramas, the wall of water that occasionally washes over me, as i dive under it all, into the womb, of nature.

mmm, a tall stunning blonde first thing in the morning, she's got that soft halo aura but enough sex appeal to keep you plugged in like an erotic limpet vampyre. very cool woman.
we take the space ship over to palm beach and grab breakfast which we then take to a private area under a friendly tree while we exchange a few war stories, define our relationship, review some of our compartments etc but i'm kinda thinking wow, you're a really beautiful woman, so honest, i'm actually quite dazed by her in the nicest possible way. anyway we finish coffee and then we head to babylon where i complete my tour of the village. we wander into the spots we like, i pay $7 for a piece of leather that will fit around my wrist and we grab some acia berry drinks at a cafe, watch the people go by in their big cars, i flick through the moronic sydney morning herald and see 'true grit' on at the cinema, make a mental note for the evening, we stroll into the pet shop and look at the kittens, oh my i hold a kitten in my arms, he's really special, soft and limp, very chilled out with beautiful eyes then we go pay some bills, then after that a lovely lunch at the newport arms pub which is great in daylight, we eat, talk further into my history, share some stuff, and she's such an angel. a naughty one but really underneath it all, is an angel. the mould really broke when they made you, one in a million, just like all my friends.

i got a lottery ticket and i think to myself if i win what would i do?
here's what i'd do with a few million. i'd take (not in any order)

evan and leanne
steve and sam
analia and poppy
nico and her children
agent stone and kia
the high priestess
i'd pick jakob up and his friend from london
and tez and june
wendy the witch
lilly the mermaid
gravy

to 7 geographical locations on planet earth.

i'd chose.
berlin
the amazon
the antarctic
santa fe
new orleans
paris
zanzibar
and some really lush resort island somewhere remote with a fantastic hotel and health spa type thing.

we would travel in a private aircraft lined with fur and a well stocked fridge filled with lovely fruit and snacks that are not animals.
the kids would have to be catered for so i'd set up something for them, but all the adults would share responsibility for them. we could spent a few million doing this little adventure a week in each place.
and all meals would be in cafes and restaurants, nothing fancy, just reasonable ones.
anyway i'm in my fantasy when i come back to the blonde, mmm, she's like a cool breeze on a hot day. i love all my friends. she's my friend now. we kinda crossed a line and it feels good.
the same thing with miss cupcake, we crossed a real big glitch, a blockage, a strange past life contractual thing but wendy went in there and fixed it up for me.
anyway i say good bye to the blonde and we share one of those brilliant hugs. pansy and i watch her drive away, then i'm swimming in the ocean with gravy, we love it, clamber around the beach, catch a few waves, play in the sand, have a smoke, pay homage to jah.
later that evening i take some food to agent stone and kia and we have tea. perfect ending perfect day.
the following day i have agreed to help miss cupcake pick up some baby stuff from the glen district, she's a smart cookie and frivolous which means when i turn up in the morning i don't have to fight over directions as we navigate to the mysterious glen district, because she has a sat nav device in her phone. so a very pleasant day picking up baby stuff and me rambling endlessly about what ever nonsense came into my head. we have good day out there, on the road, driving to three different destinations the last being bondi where i walk down a path to grab a designer baby bouncer, that looks like a piece of modern sculpture following the most incredible yummy mummy i have ever seen, she's wearing a kinda piece of material and a big big smile. she lives in the most amazing place i've seen in sydney on a road called wonderland ave. it's like something from santa fe if santa fe was located on a coastline.
we chat for a while, i tell her i don't wanna leave but i can't keep miss cupcake waiting.
later in bondi i meet my brother unexpectedly on the street. we exchange banter and wander on our paths.
home in time for a swim with gravy and some sacramental herbs.
two perfect days in a row.
i'm content.

back to the hacking of the cosmos, this is what i know. the universe is the female, it's very erotic and if you make love to it, it kinda loves you back, which means it's intelligent.
in order to access this you need to have had your mind blown at least once to appreciate the 'no boundaries part of the space time component' but it's better if you have had your boundaries blown away permanently. that way you get to stay in this consciousness more over less, consequently the more you stay in it the more it reveals about itself and the more it plays with you. you can learn to expand and contract consciousness at will. this helps me pay bills and rent etc.
so now we gotta see what this intelligence is like, i know it's female because sometimes it's moody and then later when you think deeply about it, it's actually you that are moody. change that and the universe changes it's play with you. so here we have the interaction, you can shape your reality to a certain extent.
plus all mystical traditions reveal this including the religious ones if you care to look deep enough
then there's the psychic censor which usually stops you perceiving a multidimensional reality. but all it takes to slip around that is an altered state of consciousness. this can be reached through, 'sex, drugs and rock and roll.'
then there's a way to manifest. that is kinda intuitive but it's also scientific, in the fact it can be understood at a scientific level. but it's tied in to dimensional space time, quantum physics, potentiality. imagination and love. love is like the energy it all connects with, it's really bizarre that it should be but it fits in with my romantic view of the universe because i'm in love with it.
it sends me brilliant friends and experiences and challenges, and it sometimes is a ball breaker but it loves me and supports my dreams so i'm happy.
all of this is best optimised through applying no attachment to the whole thing, no significance, although mininimizing would be closer to actualising, and no expectations. but the other magickal element is no limitations.
in quanta terms kaos or chaos exists as a pure potential that is evolving into possibilities and ultimately probabilities. one can influence these by creating a ritualistic act of invocation or evocation, taking energy from this pure energy and brining into a denser one. one can do this instantaneously with practice but the common problem is it's the subconscious that is doing the work therefore the results are from the subconscious mind. the more one makes the subconscious conscious the more one can be an effective magickian or quantum mechanic. remember there are infinite realities, so the acts of invocation include drawing from another into this. again it is dangerous because in most cases its still the subconscious doing the work.
intuition is a bridge, a way of accessing, shedding the light of consciousness into the subconscious areas.
okay. that's what i know so far.

there's one girl i really like, maybe i'll fall in love with her one day, she's just a perfect friend plus i can sleep with her. she's creative in bed, she's brilliant at conversation, she's independent and not so hung up on cash as most girls, she's really gorgeous and every time i see her i smile. she comes with three amazing kids whom i really like as well. of course there's a glitch in this picture, i mean come on, you guys know me and my relationships, there's always a glitch. but is it really a glitch, the idea of an open relationship has never really appealed to me, god knows i had enough but i never had a girl say, 'i just want you to be happy' before. that's a pretty powerful thing, because she meant it. it was genuine, said without any control or power agenda.
i see this girl once every two weeks if i am lucky, we hang out, sometimes walk along the beach with the kids, sometimes hang out in coffee shops, sometimes it's me and her. it's easy and natural, never a chore or complex, save for the 'open' bit. but there's part of me that just thinks what the hell, she deserves to be happy and free, free to do her own thing.
in the past girls just play the open relationship card when they have been compromised or we have both agreed that this is a sex only relationship, it's never been something i felt great about, but with this girl i don't feel jealous or possessive, i don't wanna hold her down or do anything that stops her living her life. why?
once i liked the challenge of a committed relationship, i liked telling other women that i had some one special in my life that i loved and would always remain true to them. i hope one day that will return but with this girl i like her enough to let her do her own thing.
see a girl like this is a rare thing, there's nothing fake or contrived about this girl, she's got the wild horse spirit, un-tameable by anything except love she's the girl that walks into the detectives office a sexy vampish drop dead beauty but is actually coy and vulnerable underneath her glamour. and somewhere in the story, in a shoot out, on the run from the bad guys, they look into one anothers eyes and hearts and souls and kiss.

driving into the trees, yeah gimmie some of that priestly aura, the time slows down, life flows around this space, here elements seek harmony, placid lake, breeze rustles the leaves, the earth is vibrant and filled with magnetic energy, all in harmonious flux, just like an alighnment i stop in the track and listen, turning off the radio, winding down the windows, turning off the engine, i activate my perspective, ahh slip into some slow time, and thousands of years pass me by while the seconds cross the face of a clock, i see the civilization eating nature, encroaching upon the woodlands, the spine of trees severed for the human need to erect constructions, fake reality. i see the future and i mourn the trees. i return to the past where i find nothing changed, such relativity. i turn on the radio and the same song plays, i start the car and reverse along the track, the trees moves backwards into the forest and soon it is gone.

sweat drips
flesh drenched
hunger sated in excess
thirst quenched
eyes grim lined
burn with liquid desire
harrowed brow dense with the day spent
in shopping mall hell
dumbed down to inhaling chemical fumes from nail polish parlours
filled with bored women reading glamour mags
spell bound crowds follow their credit card heart
straight to the hell within department stores.

transcript of a great interveiw i heard on the radio.


Alan Saunders: Hello, Alan Saunders here with you for Radio National summer, and we begin today with a little challenge.


Can you name the philosopher who said that 'A casual stroll through the lunatic asylum shows that faith does not prove anything.' He also argued that 'Fear is the mother of morality'. And this: 'All things are subject to interpretation; whichever interpretation prevails at a given time is a function of power and not truth'.
Hmm. And this clanger ( he was good at the odd clanger): 'Ah, women. They make the highs higher and the lows more frequent'.


I'll give you a couple of quick clues: he was German and he lived during the 19th century.


So can you guess who we're talking about this week on The Philosopher's Zone?


The answer is Friedrich Nietzsche, the man who coined the term 'ubermensch' or superman.


Nietzsche came up with so many colourful one-liners that it is not surprising that he's one of those philosophers that university undergraduates still carry in their back pockets to parties.


But of course his ideas are more interesting than just his pithy sayings, so today we find out what's so important about Friedrich Nietzsche.


Ruth Abbey is Associate Professor at Notre Dame University in the United States.


Ruth is also the author of a book on Nietzsche's thoughts, so what for her, is the prevailing significance of Nietzsche's thought? Why should we continue to be interested in him?


Ruth Abbey: I think the main thing that continues to attract readers to Nietzsche's thought is unerring and relentless in its questioning of things that we too readily take for granted. So Nietzsche really encourages us to re-think everything from the foundations upwards, and so he poses to his readers the challenge of an ongoing quest to think, to reconsider, to doubt, everything.


Alan Saunders: Now the interesting thing is that this doubter, he was born in Prussia in 1844, and he was in fact the son of a Lutheran pastor. Was that background important to him?


Ruth Abbey: Very important to him. And he would be the first to admit this. Not only was Nietzsche's own father a Lutheran pastor, there were Lutheran pastors going back on his father's side, a couple of generations. And when he was a child and an adolescent I suppose, Nietzsche himself was very pious, very dutiful, very well-behaved. So much so that he earned the nickname 'The Little Priest' when he was a young person. So this background had a very powerful influence on him, and to some extent he was reacting against it for much of his adult thinking life. But he also finds it impossible to leave it behind completely. One of the things you discover when you read Nietzsche carefully is that there is a persistence of religious imagery and motifs and religious concerns throughout the whole of his writing.


Alan Saunders: It's difficult to talk about Nietzsche without talking about his mental instability, which more or less overcame him towards the end of his life. But was that instability important to his philosophy?


Ruth Abbey: Well the mental instability is, some people would say, part and parcel of a sort of suffering that he inflicted upon himself, for the whole of his adult life, and that was his relentless determination to never let himself get too comfortable in his thinking or in his ideas. He talks about convictions being the enemy of free-thinking. He talks about the need for the free spirit, which is a figure that he creates and admires very much, needing always to tear himself (perhaps herself) away from the things that they believe, and to try on new ideas, to experiment with new attitudes, new possibilities.


And it seems to me that someone who puts themselves through that sort of very rigorous and relentless intellectual discipline, intellectual hardship, is creating by design a sort of mental instability for themselves. And it's possible that by the end of his life, it just all became too much for him. Of course there were physiological bases for the illness that eventually caused him to collapse ten years before his death, and which finally caused his death; I'm not saying that it was just his ideas that drove him mad, but you can see that it would have been very hard to live with the sort of mental habits that someone like Nietzsche had, constantly punishing himself, constantly challenging and doubting and questioning himself.


Alan Saunders: Well let's look at some of his key concepts. One of the key concepts is the will to power. But what does this mean? It's not simply, is it, my personal desire to control other people or to control my world?


Ruth Abbey: Nietzsche's commentators disagree about exactly what he means with the claim 'the will to power', and some people think that it is a psychological disposition, that it's a craving on the part of all individuals to increase power. Whether this means power over others or power over themselves, the ability to change and re-make and redesign and overcome the self, is a matter for question. But some people think that it does represent a psychological attitude, a psychological quest for power.


There's another way of reading the will to power, which sees it as more of a metaphysical thesis for Nietzsche. He sometimes says that the world itself is will to power, and you yourself are nothing but will to power. So from this point of view the will to power is a drive or an urge that runs through the whole of nature, and runs through human beings because we are natural beings.


Alan Saunders: The notion that the world is will to power, this sounds very much like Arthur Schopenhauer; is that where the idea comes from?


Ruth Abbey: Exactly. Yes, that's where the idea comes from. Schopenhauer distinguishes between the world as real and representation, and some of Nietzsche's formulations of the idea that the world is will to power really echo that Schopenhauerian point. Nietzsche might not want to admit that, because in the later stages of his life he presents himself as being very critical of Schopenhauer, but he also was in many ways indebted to Schopenhauer. So yes, for those who think the will to power is a metaphysical postulate, it's very easy to trace that idea back to Schopenhauer.


Alan Saunders: And what does this idea have to tell us about another key notion in Nietzsche's thought, which is the master and the slave morality?


Ruth Abbey: The master and slave morality is something that Nietzsche develops half-way through his thinking, a bit later into his career. And the idea here is, he first formulates it most clearly in a work called Beyond Good and Evil. And what he says is that having conducted a comparative study of moralities from different times, different places and different cultures, he can break down all those differences into two major differences: some moralities are master moralities, some moralities are slave moralities. And he puts Christianity and democracy on the side of slave morality.


One of the things about slave morality is that it tries to articulate a set of moral values that apply equally to all individuals. So slave moralities are universal by design and ambition. One size fits all. There's a common standard of value of what is good and what is evil, that should apply to all individuals.


Master moralities, by contrast, are very clear that they are applicable only to an elite group of society's or culture's higher human beings. So master moralities apply only to a limited stratum of society, and other people, lower people, slaves, must live according to a different moral code.


Alan Saunders: Now the idea of trying to universalise essentially the slave morality, which he thinks Christianity does, and which he in fact sees as an expression of the will to power, this relates to what he calls (using a French word) resentiment. Tell us about that.


Ruth Abbey: Yes. Well all moralities are driven by the will to power. One of the things about Christianity is that it denies this dimension of itself. Christianity would say that it is motivated by love. By love of God, love of one's neighbour, love of one's neighbour because he or she is made in the image and likeness of God. So one of the things that Nietzsche is trying to do with the will to power hypothesis, is to challenge the self understanding of Christianity, which is meant to be based on love, self-denial, self-abasement and so forth, and show that what really is driving it is this desire for power.


But as you just mentioned, another important motivation for Christianity, according to Nietzsche is what he calls resentiment. We can just translate that I think without any loss of meaning by saying 'resentment'. And what Nietzsche thinks is going on with resentiment is that people can see that lower forms of life, ordinary people, ordinary mortals, can see the differences between themselves and truly great individuals. They can see that, they don't respect it, they resent it. And so part of what's going on in the drive to universalise their morality, is to reduce everyone to the lowest common denominator.


Again, people who advocate slave morality, would never acknowledge that this is what they're doing. Nietzsche was engaging in and uncovering a revelation of what he thinks are the hidden motives of Christianity, but the idea is to bring great people down to the same level as ordinary, weak, herdish, slavish individuals. And Nietzsche sees the mass of human beings as falling into this category of ordinary slavish, herdish individuals. So resentiment is a desire to knock down the tall poppy, if you like, to use Australian parlance to describe this.


Alan Saunders: So he sees resentiment as operating in Christianity and in democracy. Does this mean he's anti-democratic?


Ruth Abbey: There's a debate among Nietzsche's interpreters about this matter, as there is about almost every matter of Nietzsche interpretation, but it's hard not to read him as being anti-democratic. Or at least, very worried about the fate of modern western cultures with the spread of democratisation. Because he thinks that democratisation makes people equal. Now nothing is ever going to make equal for Nietzsche, so there's something of a myth or an illusion behind every doctrine of equality. But he fears that by constantly promulgating the idea that we are all equal, that we can all achieve the same sort of thing, that's going to acquire the status of a self-fulfilling prophecy. That, if you tell everyone that they're equal, people who are capable of more and better and greater, will eventually internalise this belief that they're just equal to everyone else. And so they will stop aspiring, stop trying to do more, better and greater things. So Nietzsche's very worried about democratisation which he sees spreading through modern Western Europe, is a levelling force, and it's a levelling-down force. So he worries that the more democratisation we have, the more mediocrity we're going to have.


Alan Saunders: On ABC Radio National, you're with The Philosopher's Zone, and I'm talking to Ruth Abbey, Associate Professor at Notre Dame University in Indiana, USA, about the thought of that troubled and troubling figure, Friedrich Nietzsche.


Ruth, a difficulty that some of us might have with Nietzsche's views, is that he's interested not only in the objective claims of moral opinions, but also with what he calls their genealogy, that's to say the psychological story of their origins.


Ruth Abbey: That's right, exactly. And so it's his genealogical investigations into Christianity that causes him to come up with the idea of resentiment. So in conducting a genealogy of morality, as Nietzsche says he's doing, what he does is to try to go back to the hidden, concealed, covered over, origins of lofty moral concepts. And what he finds at the beginning of many of the lofty moral concepts that we live by, are drives and desires that we wouldn't consider especially noble. Drives and desires for power, drives and desires that reflect self-interest, and so forth.


So there's always a puncturing ambition, always a deflationary ambition in Nietzsche's writings. Part of what he's doing to his modern readers is saying, 'Well you think that you are so progressive, that you've achieved so much, well I'm here to show you that you shouldn't be quite so proud of the things you take so much pride in.' Part of the image that he is attacking here is the Hegelian image of the end of history, the idea that people living in the modern world represent the culmination of humanity. Nietzsche's absolutely horrified by this idea, and his horror is here informed by his studies of the ancient Greek and Roman world, because he repeatedly holds those earlier cultures up as models of real human excellence and achievement. And so he thinks by comparison to those wonderful ancient cultures, what the modern world represents is not the pinnacle of human achievement at all, but it's a very low level of human achievement.


Alan Saunders: One of his other key ideas which we have to talk about I think, is the idea of 'the ubermensch' or 'the superman'. Now the question that arises about the ubermensch is similar to the idea that arises over the will to power. What makes the superman super? Is it that he's achieved control over others or is it that he's achieved control over himself? And I use the masculine pronoun because it kind of seems right for Nietzsche.


Ruth Abbey: Yes, I agree. Certainly any of the models that Nietzsche has of the ubermensch in his writing are masculine models, and you can try to make an argument if you like, that women could have fitted this model, but I think that Nietzsche has men firmly in mind when he's thinking about ubermenschen. The crucial thing about an ubermensch is to have power over the self.


Great people, according to Nietzsche, don't seek power over other people, they might achieve power over people, but that's never their goal. Their goal is always something outside. They're not interested in insulating or putting other people down, they're always aspiring for some form of greatness - cultural, political, artistic, literary, what-have-you. They're not driven by the desire to be judged by the standards of others, and this is one of the things that distinguishes masters from slaves. So the ubermensch is not motivated by control over other people, he might achieve that, but that would never be his primary motivation.


But it's also important to acknowledge here that great people can fail, according to Nietzsche, without that making them any less great. So their greatness doesn't even have to be measured by objective standards, or external achievements or deeds. And there are many very poignant passages where Nietzsche talks about the fragility of the great human being, particularly in the modern world where all the forces of conformity, uniformity and mediocrity, are striving against the realisation of true individualism. So he's very worried about the fate of great individuals, and they're just as likely to fail as they are to succeed, so we can't necessarily measure their greatness by their deeds or by their achievements, it's more a psychological disposition.


Alan Saunders: When you say this, you make him sound distinctly un-Nazi, but we do have to address the question of his adoption by the Nazis. He was their philosophical poster-boy. Were they finding in his thoughts something they wanted to find, or were they finding something that was in fact there all along?


Ruth Abbey: I think it's something of a combination of both. There is certainly in Nietzsche's writings from the middle period onward, there is no glorification of anything like German nationalism.


Alan Saunders: This is despite his early enthusiasm for Wagner?


Ruth Abbey: That's right. He outgrew that. And from the middle-period writings onward, he's a staunch critic of German nationalism, German culture, the German people. So as seems to be always the case with Nietzsche, he can never quite give up a preoccupation that he once had, but he turns against it. So he had great hopes for the revival of German culture through the work of Richard Wagner, but he abandons that hope and becomes extremely critical of his compatriots and German culture in general.


So the Nazis insofar as they get any defence of German nationalism out of Nietzsche, are really misconstruing the great bulk of his writing. Nor is there a defence, I think, of anti-Semitism in Nietzsche's writings. If anything I think what you find again in the later works, is a sort of anti-anti-Semitism. Nietzsche knew some fairly virulent anti-Semites first-hand, and was not an admirer of these people. And so he's frequently critical of anti-Semitism.


And one of the interesting moves that he makes in his writings, is to routinely point us to the Jewish origins of Christianity. And some of the claims that he makes when he's doing this, don't always add up, but I think his rhetorical purpose here is illuminating, and he's trying to say to Christian anti-Semites of his own era that Well actually, a lot of early Christian faith, early Christian culture, originated in Jewish culture. So there's a certain hypocrisy involved for you in being anti-Semitic.


And he can be read as glorifying violence in some passages. He can be read as defending a sort of cruelty. And what I mean by this is that he thinks that one of the problems with modern culture, modern civilisation is that we're very scared of suffering, emotional suffering, physical suffering; what we seek always is comfort. And Nietzsche believes that the true realisation of greatness is impossible without a great deal of suffering also. And so if you're afraid of suffering, you're never going to reach the pinnacles of human achievement, and suffering can sometimes involve cruelty. You need to be able to experience your own suffering, you need to be able to endure the sight of other people suffering. So there is sometimes a rhetoric that defends suffering and violence in Nietzsche's writings, and that could have nourished Nazi sensibilities.


Alan Saunders: Well talking about suffering, it's difficult to avoid some mention of the first step of his decline into mental instability. The famous, almost mythologised episode of striking pity for a horse. Tell us about that.


Ruth Abbey: Well for much of his career, Nietzsche was a great critic of the idea of pity, for some of the reasons that I've just been suggesting. He also thought that this was one of the signature concepts of Christianity, that we must constantly be receptive to the suffering of other people in always trying to alleviate their suffering. And as I just mentioned, Nietzsche thinks that suffering is part and parcel of great human achievements. So he's an implacable critic of pity. And yet there are moments in his writing where he confesses that he is extremely vulnerable to pit himself.


So part of what he's doing in these attacks on the morality of pity, only part of it, but an important part of it, is trying to persuade himself not to feel for the suffering of other human beings, in this case, not to feel for the suffering of other animals. It's part and parcel of the process of what he would call 'self-overcoming'. In order to engage in self-overcoming, you need to have a realistic sense of who you are, what your motivations are, what sort of person you are, and you need to try to overcome the things that you think will make you weak, and Nietzsche fears that excessive sensibility for the suffering of other people is going to make you weak.


Alan Saunders: And the story is that before they led him away, he'd thrown his arms around a coach-horse that was being whipped by its driver.


Ruth Abbey: That's right. In the streets of Turin. This is, as you were saying, it's the episode that really announced to his friends that he was in a complete state of mental decline, and for ten years after that episode, he was non compos for a lot of the time, fading in and out of lucidity, recognised, but sometimes didn't recognise his family members and people caring for him. So it really was if not the beginning of the end, the middle of the end at this stage.


Alan Saunders: It's a sad, though in a way also slightly warming note to end on. Ruth Abbey, thank you very much indeed for joining us today.


Ruth Abbey: Thank you.

the jaguar inside me wants to burst out, he's pacing up and down, he's oozing karmic sexuality, looking for his dion fortuna, looking for the scarlet woman, looking for the feminine principle and the goddess, he's chowing down some weird breakfast solids with some one he can't quite connect with, all repulsion drives operate within this person as she sets out to diminish but old captain mission just feels her void, it's an old dance and it's predictable, old captain mission wanders the streets alone now, finding his way home to his trusty hound pan, whose soul is remarkably similar to his. such loyalty is a rare thing.
left to his own devices captain mission constructs some new ideas for songs, he reads a new book 'version 43' by philip palmer, really good stuff, he reads a little peter carroll and organises his personas in a nice little democracy, he amalgamates them into one and likes what he finds. a new ego. it's aspecty is comfortable, enough edge to make him interesting and tomorrow i will take it for a test drive, playing and flirting, engaging in the many faces of the goddess, yes old captain mission feels young again.

special appreciation to nico who has been an amazing friend to me, offering me great support and advice when i needed it and has been consistent in her honesty and respect to me which i hope is reciprocated by me to the best of my abilities. i have not seen her for a while and when we did catch up she not only helped me through some complex emotional shit, she never judged or devalued me, just accepted me, which she has always done despite the fact i am a total freakazoid, probably a very different animal to her other men. you are a pretty special girl nico.
okay so friday morning im in the city with wendy the witch who is delving deep into my damaged aura and etheric body, ripping out elementals and energies that have been trapped there, we rip out dead end attachments, we rip away negative patterns and thoughts, she embeds some white magick inside me and offers me some insight into my relationship with trees. ah, yes wendy and i share a similar perspective, she entices me into becoming a witch. she would teach me a great deal. i will consider this.
later when i am driving home i am filled with joy, listening to kate bush, moon roof down, dog in the back, everything is now back to how it should be, restored.

forgiveness is a good thing, i gotta admit i can be pretty unforgiving but i am learning how to do it, it's really challenging.
it's very healing.
i can do it, forgive others but can i ever forgive myself?
and for what?
everything is tragically impermanent, things come into your life and they go, people, places, memories and even thoughts, it's all flow, a constantly ever changing flow, the dao, cannot be written about or understood with the mind. only it's metaphor.

merriweather, the wizards apprentice watches his master weave his magick sigils in the air, around the room candles and incense burn, but the master is in deep meditation, concentration, sweat falls, his eyes focused ahead, through the ether, realms are revealed, portals opened, all dimensions are passing through the strange dark matter of circular energy that hovers between the wizards old hands.
merriweather watches with admiration and love, he understands this is something he cannot influence, it is his masters journey, to unravel the tragedy and restore balance.
merriweather wants to help, he wants his master to be healed, his own healing is intrinsically tied in with his masters for such is the occult symbiotic relationship they have shared for 30 years.
the master is now singing his words, he is playing his music, merriweather loves this part the best, sound permeates the chamber, enveloping every space. the portal begins to pulse and change into a rich tapestry of purple light. the old man smiles, there it is, a spinning orb of light, all probability, all potential.
merriweather looks on in wonder as the old wizard starts to draw the portal around him. a magnificent array of light bursts forth and the wizard vanishes into it's luminescence.
merryweather is left standing in the room, all candles have been extinguished and a stillness haunts the chamber. it's void is uncanny, as if a vacuum. the younger man is scared, he doesn't know if he should break the circle, and he is frozen in his tracks. his thoughts run wild, what if the wizard never returns, what if the old man is trapped somewhere and needs help, how would he, a young apprentice be able to assist.
he wracked his brain, searching through his memories, incantations, spells, procedures and enchantments, there must be something there, a spell he could use.
then almost without thinking he stepped into the circle. immediately the candles inflamed themselves. the atmosphere returned to normal. he had the spell, he had seen the wizard use it once when he had lost imajica the cat, a retrieval spell.
he steadied himself, visualized the circle and re enforced the shield around him, he stopped short from casting the banishing ritual, for a moment he was unsure, he took out his joint and smoked a little until he was in an altered state of consciousness then he launched into the retrieval spell.
the words came from deep inside, booming out, commanding and inherently filled with power, almost immediatly the vortex appeared. this time it was a glorious yellow light, it pulsed and throbbed as before but remained yellow.
merriweather took a deep breath and pointed his crystal at the sphere of light. he directed it to change from yellow to purple, and it slowly transformed, and grew larger, engulfing the whole circle and them the room, merriweather stood his ground and held the space. then when he was certain the wizard was backl he cast the banishing rite and everything ceased.
they sat together merriweather and the wizard, smoking their herbs and drinking their teas.
'where were you master?'
'i was everywhere and yet i was really nowhere.'
'did i do the right thing and bring you back.'
'only time will tell young merriweather, time will tell.'

my karmic broker calls me,' hang in there mission.'
'hey you know i love you but what the hell just happened.'
'mmm, well you have some weird entanglements with that particular soul.'
'yeah i know.'
'just hang in there.'
'i think i am well and truly hung, and swinging.'
'mmm, that sounds kinda like my kinda guy.'
'ha, very flattered but you know that was not what i meant.'
'yes captain, i know. now just keep focused and this is your year of love.'
'err mmm, you been saying that for the last two years.'
'well i did confess i made an error but i corrected the mathematics and i assure you this is your year.'
'what are you doing for dinner anyway, i made soup.'
'not tonight i am working on your file.'
'bring it with you.'
'it's to heavy.'
'typical. my heavy file stops me getting lucky with my karmic broker.'
'there's nothing attractive about a man who feels sorry for himself.'
'i don't feel sorry for myself at all, i feel sorry for your husband.'
'mmm, bit cheeky tonight mission, i may just have to come over and sort you out.'
'don't bother, i'm sorted. just keep me posted on the situation.'
'will do.'

well here i am, there i was, infra ready, ultra violet, standing on the corner, ray gun in my hand, jane is in her fur boots, me i'm in a trans dimensional pop band, yeah the coloured girls go, doo dee doo.
yes it has all come's together in a swirl of strange energies, i process all my thoughts, i loose my way, i lost my compass, map and mind, this happens often and it takes a little intra vision or spectrum with my fave plant friends to get me sorted, a little white magick on friday and i'll be as good as new. it's exciting, i'm looking forwards to seeing wendy, she's amazing, the type of person i aspire to be, yeah she's the real deal for me.

i sit in agent stones kitchen talking about her porn books, i'm drinking her sweet teas and looking at her strange elf like body nursing her childe, little kia, clings to mum like a leaf clings to the tree. it's all pixie land in here with her fairy lights and candles, we test drive her solar powered butterflies, perfecto lighting for my sensitive eyes.
well she's telling me about her war, i'm all ears, wow, dramas are happening that make mine pale into insignificance, i listen avidly as i know all the interested parties and it's good to know i'm not the only person who's life is a messy emotional knot. so this is how humans feel, right, i'm like the angel in wim wenders film, wings of desire peering into human existence, ah yeah pain suffering and all that jazz.
later i wander back to mission control to chat on skype with my friend in london, he has heard snuff music and says it's like fuast and very literate which feeds my ego, but to be honest that's exactly what i planned snuff as, a fuastian type of story tied in to the end of the current cycle of consciousness and the rise of a new one. he is very kind though, always encouraging and when he does offer criticism it is very constructive and i listen.

i ponder my envioroment. it's a disaster zone, it needs commitment to clean this and my energies are to sparse to consider this right now. this is a team effort. it needs a womans touch.
i smoke a spliff and listen to ariel. by the time it's 2am i am wandering around eating some brazilian berries in my sarong, listening to the rain.

dreamers have a sacred purpose in this world, we are the inventors, artists and creators, we see the future, we are in tune with the collective unconscious landscape, without dreamers there would be no creative civilisation or culture. bear that in mind when you steal our passion or idealism, our dreams are your dreams.

last night i had the strangest dream i was in a hostel, sharing a room with my girl, we were having quite a good time, romping around our room, playing silly games and laughing, we woke up early one morning and she decided to go down for breakfast. i on the other hand wanted to lay around and take my time.
later i searched through our bag for a t shirt and wandered down the steps where i saw my friend sitting at a big table. i helped myself to the buffet which was basically eggs and toast and coffee and then sat down next to her. she gave me this big smile.

i woke up smiling. it was such a nice dream, playful and safe. who ever that girl was we had something special. it was a real good dream.

edgy as fuck those anxiety pills were not working. you're confused, slightly impulsive, you want to be but your not really present, your every where and no where, need a little drama in your life, need to shake some action. there you stood on the balcony enveloped in your glamour, you are surrounded with people, they fawn over you, catch your ash, laugh at your jokes, climb in your bed one after another but i couldn't bear the fucking sight of you. i watched you surrounded by them leeches, they would suck you dry, money, drugs, sex they would take it all and leave you empty. spinning around in a kaleidoscope of maya, you had no chance amongst these clowns. have another drink some one yelled and you did. snort a little bit more, and you did. fuck a little harder and you did. it was a sad business to watch really. i hated that scene. it was nothing to do with me. i always left.
one day i saw you licking some ones face. you were pissed and acting like some sort of cheap and tasteless mexican whore splashing your drink everywhere. it was pretty disgusting, i wanted to film you, then i'd play it back when you were sober so you could see how you looked, but i never bothered. i'd lived that life before, so i left.
i will always leave. i'll always walk away from that.
but there was the last time.
one night she rings me up, i call over.
one and a half a bottles of vodka, god knows how many pills, she's wearing her french lingerie and flicking between some massive attack and some woman singing some sort of sad song seeped in anger and betrayal. her lipstick and mascara, a terrible mask. she looked pale. she was sneering at me as soon as i walked in.
'have you come to fuck me?'
'no i most certainly have not.'
'then your no good to me.'
'that's where you are wrong'
she runs towards me and i slap her hard across the face. it's not the first time i slapped a woman but it's not something i would do unless i had no choice, i needed to get her focused on something. she stooped over holding her cheek. as her face turns towards me i can see her hateful sneer but i can see her eyes, watery. she starts sobbing and i move in to hold her. the music stops.
'i hate my life.'
'i know sweetheart, i know.' i hold her close because that's all i can do.
she cries on my shoulder for an hour, sobbing away, merging into me, my tee shirt is covered in her. i'm just a man, i got a good heart. i take her in to me, i kiss her lightly and wipe her tears away. i sit with her and let her sob.
later i pick her up and carry her into the bedroom. i put her into the bed and stroke her head until her breathing becomes regular again, and she is in a deep sleep. while she sleeps i empty every bottle down the sink. i search the house for pills but only find some anti depressants and a few empty bottles of muscle relaxant.
i smoke a joint and watch her sleeping there in peace.
later i take it upon myself to work over her etheric body, i hack into her aura and start manipulating her energies, sealing fractures, seeing the damage in her heart i focus my attention towards her. i don't know if i can fix this one, but i try my best.
when she wakes up she starts screaming at me, reaches for the bottle but finds it empty, she gives me a hateful medusa stare and throws it at me, screaming in her incomprehensible way. i attempt to grab her wrists but she's resiting, another slap, but that takes her further into a frenzy, it's ugly and boring but that's the way it is with her, i let her hit me a few times, a nail rips my cheek and blood spurts out onto her white bedsheets, she looks momentarily shocked. she whimpers a little and then suddenly that innocence crosses her face, she stretches her hands out, 'oh my god, i'm so sorry' she mutters, just like a little girl. she wraps her arms around me. it's okay baby, you're safe now.'
she sleeps more, while i clean up. i leave her a note and slip out the back door, when she wakes up she will have forgottern everything but she will find the note and read the words and she will smile.

i head down to the muse store.
'hey it's capt. mission. what's up?'
'need a muse, what ya got for me?'
'what you looking for.'
'the usual.'
'err not much of that around at the moment.'
'what about something unusual?'
'well you have to be specific man, you know how it is?'
'how about something sexy, intelligent and reciprocating.'
'that's your usual, are you trying to be funny?'
'nope, just covering all angles.'
'mmm, i'll let you know when something comes in.'
'okay. thanks.'
''what happened to your old muse?'
'i fell in love with it.'
'to bad.'
'no. actually it was brilliant. in fact i'm gonna stick with it. see where it takes me.'
'i think it's more a matter of where you take it.'
'yeah, yeah how very true.'
'okay thanks for the advice.'

pisces are perhaps the most inaccessible of all the star signs, a hidden continent, obscured my their multi dimensional and esoteric perceptions of nature and their romantic sentiments. the main criticism is they are not based in reality, yet this criticism is always made by the human constructed reality not reality itself.
time teaches me that we are very misunderstood beings, often drawn towards drugs in search of transcendence, the poets motivation and yet finding transcendance without them. i was always enamoured by the pull towards leaving my earthly body and seeing what lays beyond. my drives were philosophical and romantic, my love is for the universe itself because one day it revealed itself to me and engaged me in the most profound way.
i can't expect people to understand this except the people who witnessed this. all i can say it was part of a journey i had been on for many years and a rebirth of monumental proportions.
pisces differ from others because they have the ability to know there is no difference between the man dreaming he is a butterfly and the butterfly dreaming he is a man. we have incarnated as all other signs, thus we are the last symbol of the zodiac.
further all consensus reality is a tiny fraction of the whole picture.
human cns are not evolved enough to perceive anything else, however there are other tools available, intuition being one.
all things that occur on a physical level occur in many dimensions, one can say that the emotional world is one dimension, manifesting itself because of something that is occurring in a higher dimension. for example a soul may bring two people together to incarnate itself, the two people would have no consciousness about this unless they had a wider perspective of reality, the kind that piscean people generally share.
we are the links between this world and the higher levels of reality, we are the visionaries and our place in consensus reality is one of rejection. especially under the glamour. we reject the glamour and see it for what it is, a glamour cast by the unconscious elements at work within our lives and they are legion. these are like a poison to a pisces because they are in opposition to love and to the true nature of the intelligent universe. the worst thing that could possibly happen to a pisces soul is for it to be diminished by those who love it. this has been the issue between my mother and myself. in her world there is no room for visionaries. she is a political animal not a spiritual being.

picsean children need the upmost care. they require exceptional understanding and respect that their true nature is not diminished or devalued. from experience, all they require is for the people who love them to believe in them.
the failings of pisces is that they can escape to far away, unreachable, distant, detached from other people and then ungrounded, when they need to be. this is my failing.

as i read my book on emotions i come to a section called breaking contracts. now this is an area that's new to me, i always had heard of this concept in peripheral circles but i never really understood it as a process or theory. i have 64 vows, 97 contracts, 47 promises,13 agreements, 11 karmic allotments, 17 trade agreements over 19,423 lifetimes together with my soul partner and it's probably time to let it go. we have been doing this dance a long time, and i guess i need to take some responsibility here.
what does this mean?
i'll follow the process of contract breaking and let you know.
i'm an unconditional love man.
that's the only way i can be now although i have my limits of tolerance and compassion. don't mistake my kindness for weakness, many have.
i need to step up to being a friend now, and let go of the romantic elements which i guess exist in some form of contracted arrangement we agreed to once, from some form of soul nature.
i relinquished ideas of control or power a few years ago, and it has served me well, even when i exert power it's playful and harmless, erotic power has to be. but the magnetic pull here is somewhat different, it's beyond space and time itself. it's neither sexual or intellectual, it's always been there taking some kind of form only now i can articulate it in a language i understand.
the magickians strength is to know when to act in a mystic tradition, surrender to something greater than the self although when i think about it my musical compass points towards the the, 'gravitate to me.' a song that seems to en capture it, whatever 'it' is.



that's the end of this chapter in captain missions weird and wonderful life.
i see wendy the witch on friday, she will preform her surgery upon my spirit, heal the wounds and repair whatever damage needs fixing up.

praise jah who sent me the bird today, it was really cool. both of us were honoured to receive your magnificent gift. a blessing.

love, i got an abundance of it so
i send love out to my friends.
evan i miss you man,
gravy thank you for being my friend, i love your mind.
steve and sm i love you guys.
agent stone, you tough- love hardcore elf queen, you had me freaking out yesterday but you were quite right.
the high priestess - you're a hell of a cool chick and you get me and you still love me :)
the mermaid from bondi - i love you sister, we have followed our star.
tez - thank you for your encouragement and friendship.
amalia renwick i am so sorry for being so selfish, i'm so stupid sometimes and all i can say in my defence is i am a man, of course i will be your friend but can you be mine to? you would be in very good company, that is something that i can promise.

i se her in the city looking all peachy in her aura and her body all aglow, it's unbearable, you just wanna hold her and kiss her but instead you make stupid small talk and think about some stupid conversation filler.





everlasting love
by
the deep fix

i don’t need your fan club
writing to me
don’t need to be the life and soul
of the party
i don’t need to be the centre
of attention
i don’t need to be made
to feel welcome

i don’t need devotion i’m
not your god
i don’t need your money or your
credit cards
i don’t want to borrow your records
and stuff
all i want is to be your
everlasting love

i don’t need a witness to
validate my truth
i don’t need authority at war
with my youth
i can’t stand those people
who corrupt your spirit
dress you up in poison and then
they make you wear it

i don’t need no influence
mis directing my heart
and i don’t need no defences
pulling me apart
i don’t want the empty promise
of that i have had enough
all want is to be is your
everlasting love

ohhhh
love that lasts for ever
oohh love that moves us along

mmm kate bush ariel. disc 2, play from beginning to end, perfection. she's divine. an angel. listen to her voice. what man could not love that voice. it's so beautiful, it's the best female voice i know, and her words are enchanting. like being seduced by a team of sexy air nymphs. with sexy little fluffy boots. everything in this rich tapestry of sound is tantalising. the instruments are perfect, the dance of it pulsing along it's groove taking you with it, this folks is how i like my music.

by the time i catch up with my brother i am ready to strangle him, not for any serious reason other than he gave me crap directions and i drove around for an hour attempting to find a non existent street. however when i see him i am filled with some weird happiness because he is a great guy and it's hard to be angry at him, plus he has changed a fair amount in the last few months seeing the glamour and being able to work against it. he has a much more accurate perspective of the subtle wars that are fought. we share our thoughts as we wander around crows nest, i make friends with an american woman who has some sort of flying blade type device which she lets me admire and use. she laughs as i try to work it, and then miraculously the thing takes flight.
we watch it's ascension and i walk of feeling quite satisfied.
later on the way home i stop at the big ocean lake where miss cupcake is sitting reading a big thick book called up the duff 2 or something, and she tells me about her last few days. i don't know i'm feeling somewhat strange, i just want to hold her and kiss her and she's waffling on about food or some work thing and waters breaking, mmm, all i can see is her lovely face and her bump which is huge now. strange thoughts race through my head, the oestrogen madness takes hold of me, ooh jesus i cam't bear it any longer, part of me is ready to leave but then she gives me a hug. not just a little defence mechanism one, a real one. one that actually comes from the heart, authentic. does it get better than that?
not today.

mourning has broken
rainfall damps the day
well after many years of blocking my emotions at least i am still human under all the junk personas and egos and i do have feelings which are strangely still this morning. i'm like a wounded animal. i need to heal fast. i put myself through a series of techniques, some i have recently learnt from my book on emotions, but mostly these are ancient techniques,some tibetan buddhist. sacred space, grounding, honouring.
what can you do with unrequited love, there's a lot of practical things on offer but these processes will be most effective. letting go, let it go, it's not yours and it never was. you can't keep an invisible girl let alone the impossible one.
i fell in love with miss cupcake. it was great, some one i could just be with. simple, we had moments of magick.
anyway it's never really simple with her is it? it was probably some oestrogen induced madness, a strange side effect.
how can you fall in love with her, she's having another mans baby?
hey love works in mysterious ways, all i know is that's how i feel, i have for months only my stupid blockage just wouldn't allow me to acknowledge this. now i have.
what about the fall out?
there's always fall out. there will be massive fall out over this because she's wired against being loved. it will send her nuts, you won't see her for weeks, maybe months maybe never again.
so what do you do.
you heal yourself and move onwards.
how do you do that.
mourn her.
say goodbye.
let her go.
at least you found your emotional side again.
mmm, i prefer it when it was lost.
you jest.
well it's a little painful but at least i know i have that ability to love someone again. that's worth while.
in the meantime you have taken on a collection of defensive mechanisms and protective fields becuase you allowed yourself to be vulnerable, just like her.
yes, i need to be free of these, they save no purpose other than making things more complex than ever. there is nothing to fear.
it's just a future you saw slip away, there have been many lost unto you this life.
yes perhaps that's what i need to do, let my futures go as well. there comes a point where every time traveller must smash their time machine and stay in their present.
is this the moment.

a post card arrives from a friend, it's a picture of a comet. on the reverse side she writes, 'thank you. you saved my life.'
yes i did.
that's kinda what i do these days.

watching sunset, majestic clouds over the ocean, rain fall out at sea, the movement of these giants fills the horizon and their grey spectrum matches my internal reality. hello sadness my old friend.
my companion points out various structural aspects within the cloud, we see colours and shapes, even a water spout form and all of this matches exactly how my soul feels. i go home back to mission control, the place that has been my home for the last 8 years.
i chat with a friend on skype.
i'm tempted to take the vine but instead i fill my heart with smoke and fall asleep.

it's a magickal universe miss cupcake. yeah sure it's tragic in parts and fucked up in areas, it's filled with humanities suffering and trials but one cannot deny it is a magickal universe. if i gave you one piece of information that was worth anything it's that one.
for myself those evenings walking along the beach and all that eating food together, wandering around baby shops in big malls, my strange eccentric blockages and awkwardness, the days we had our feet done and our trips, all magick.

reconnecting with miss cupcake is tricky, we are tired and run down, there's some weird energy hanging around us, i just wanna hold her, i don't wanna let her go but there's this fortress around her, it's impenetrable. i don't really wanna penetrate it, just let it dissolve away and sneak in but there's no chance of that happening with this disconnect, defence mechanisms are up. me to, i feel fragile and somewhat vulnerable.
she wants to sleep so we say goodbye, i hug her but i can feel her resistance.
i wander down stairs wondering what is wrong with me, i get inside my car and see my book on emotions, i get out and walk back to miss cupcakes house. i have to do unblock this strange energy that sits within me, i have to take control of this and at least speak my truth.
what's the right action?
there is no right action or wrong action really, there's no right time or wrong time. i've loved this person through thousands of life times.
we drink a glass of water.
'i love you. you know that?'
she nods her head.
'i didn't mean for that to happen, it just did. kinda sneaked up somehow.'
she nods her head and says, 'i'm going to bed now.'
i have to leave i guess, climbing in bed with her would just be the perfect ending but it's not going to happen for me so i head home and climb in my own bed with the rest of the children of the night.

i came to in a large room elaborately furnished in mid victorian decor. there was a slither of natural light filtering through some material, but mostly it was dark. i could make out the extensive library, leather bound books filled the walls. i took it all in before i attempted to stand up.
'i see you are awake' a voice said.
he was sitting in a leather chair in the shadows, i could make out a glint in his eyes and some facial hair but the details were obscured.
'where who and why?' i said.
'this is cloisters, a private centre for the people who have transgressed acceptable mental constructs. we realign them with more appropriate ones and then integrate them into society. i am dr. randolph snow, your doctor and you are here under instructions of the interventionist committee who have deemed you to be entering a dangerous thinking zone.'
'you mean transgressive.'
'call it what you want.'
'and why should i require treatment.'
'because such thinking is considered unhealthy to the consensus reality, therefore you are a threat.'
'ha, there's nothing threatening about me at all.'
i can't see but i can almost see him smile.
'mr. mission you are here. treatment has begun. there is nothing you can do.'
i fall back asleep.

later i am sitting at the table, it's dark outside and candles have been lit. i am drinking tea from a pot. dr. snow is watching me. he has produced a clip board and a small black box with some electrodes attached.
he sticks them to my head and offers me a pair of glasses, they are thick black framed with mirror lenses.
immediately a pattern dances before me, like a light show or fire works display.
'i just need to match your neural activity.'
the patterns are changing all the time, they begin to settle into a purple throb.
'ahh that's it,' snow exclaims.
'these are your romantic patterns, it has been suggested you fall in love to fast.'
'is that a problem.'
'yes. but we can correct that with this.' he makes adjustments, the purple turns into a reddish brown and starts weaving into a stagnant stillness.
i can feel my heart chakra changing, the room seems claustrophobic, i feel slightly anxious and cold.
i tune into my heart. strange psychosomatic energies transmit themselves.
the throbbing starts to return.
i don't like this feeling, it's counter intuitive and feels wrong. i pull the glasses of from my face, i take the electrodes down.
dr. snow looks at me disapprovingly.
i make a quick assessment, 'i can't stay here and you cannot keep me here.'
'you are free to go but you will not get what you want out there, they will not let you. there are forces against you and they are legion.'
'yeah yeah heard it all before dr. it's never stopped me trying.' as i walk past him i blow out the candles leaving snow in darkness.

times they are a changing, and old captain mission is changing to, i spend the evening with a wonderful mermaid who informs me of my new mission. she's beautiful, her long golden hair and soft voice, mesmerising and gentle, i'm sinking into her as my brain attempts to reject her words but my beating heart knows she is true.
what the fuck is she saying? my brain and ego struggle with it.
'you have shifted into a new paradigm, the old one has no purpose in your life.'
but i'm clinging on because this really is something that i held sacred for such a long long time, i always wanted it, dreamed and yearned for it, but it's not real, it's a fantasy. it's some stupid ideal i chased for most of my life and now i realise i'm beyond it.
she's telling me about the relationship paradigm. i have moved into a different one yet i am still mourning the old one.
she makes such perfect sense, i'm stunned.
wow, when i was married it was very special. what a lucky guy i guess, to have had that experience, even though it was some what akin to the last temptation of christ.
this mermaid is now banging nails into my wrists. separation anxiety works in mysterious ways, every statement she makes is so true and liberating as well. it could only have come from a mermaid unless she's luring me towards rocks.
oh no. that was the sirens, this here is a goddamn mermaid. they save people like captain mission, it's a fucking sea fairing fact.
new paradigm.

shedding my skins, down to the essential persona's, no one chooses to be this vulnerable, i mean it takes a certain amount of front to write all this down, to be brutally honest. to reveal everything like this. no i have not even started really, there's so much to write, so many things. i'm kinda like the frontier of science fiction, downloading my consciousness into this landscape of 0s and 1s. in the future some one will trawl through this work and get some sort of idea as to who i am.

'he is very self obsessed.'
'i think he must have been insane.'
'his species were all insane.'
'yet he shows some insight into octopus intelligence'
'anomaly.'
'he also knows about the pleasure domes of anteries 7'
'anomaly.'
'we should upload him and find out more'
'yes we have a spare octo pod. pass me that usb.'

mmm i like that cupcake woman. a bit of a clusterfuck!

ug early morning down town, slight rain, bit of this bits of that, i'm feeling a bit strange, last night i am in a big house with dutch pierre smoking weed and talking about our friends on ice and the harrowing trauma of attempting to maintain friendship's with them. ice baby ice.
it reminded me of a time i spent in a hotel with an ex in kings cross. we were renting the room for my birthday, there was a lot of sex going down, and it was a pretty good birthday from what i recall although very messy, what with cake and all. but later in the evening she organised a massive ice deal from the room. 30 000 dollars worth of crystal dropped off in our hotel room and later picked up by some of her comrades. well let me tell you i was freaking out, firstly i don't wanna go to jail, secondly i hate ice and thirdly i didn't like any of her friends that came marching in the room. i just smoked my weed and kept quiet, head emerged in my book while she did her business. the room was a mess, i was somewhat embarrassed about that. anyways this girl cleaned up. she sold the whole lot in about four hits, the parties that came and went through my hotel room got progressively heavier until two guys and two girls came in with big knives. i said in my polite english accent, 'i' hate knives, please put them away.'
the girls looked as if i was mad and the guys gave me the eye, sizing me up and that stuff guys do. they were like zombie men, unable to offer anything remotely human in the way of conversation, the four of them just talked ice and left giving me the cold shoulder and if it wasn't for my girlfriends nice curves i would have sent her packing, but she had paid for the room, for dinner and a bunch of other stuff so by proxy i was party to the whole thing. my poor karma took a hit that weekend.
anyways dutch pierre and i shared an aversion to ice and we were chatting about the damage we have seen it wreak upon some people and the point they get to where it's unsalvageable.
later we wandered around the grounds and smoked a spilff, talking about the church shows and the band. i recommended 'david neil.' i told him how steve had given me his ipod playlist and it was a peak experience, then proceeded to show him my iphone with all these amazing songs on it. but i had updated the software yesterday and found the playlist blank. my whole steve kilbey ipod wiped. i couldn't believe it, i could feel a well of tears coming on. then i confessed i had only listened to one album on the playlist, white magic it was like being given a wonderful book and reading the same chapter over and over and then loosing the book.
i wandered around this big house until i found a sofa on a balcony and watched the landscape, the rain started falling and a bunch of girls came to drag me to some bar. i made my iphone excuses and left.
fortunately i recovered my songs.

lets get something straight here, my dad loves his wife. (that's my mum). he loves her so much and they do everything together.
and the more they do the more they love one another. it's almost obscene. but that's how it works for them. it's audacious more than obscene. i like it, in fact it's something that has influenced me more than my dad's lectures on engineering and mechanics in our beloved atlantis. anyway although i never appreciated this quality in my parents relationship it sunk in. my family always did the friday candles and they said the words, 'let love in' but they already had it. between them. it took turns and twists but they did it and made it look easy, dad loves mum. i was born from love. that's a good thing man.
the terrible thing that happened in my past was the day i recall my mother getting so crazy dad had to move out. i held onto his leg for a long time, begging him not to. i howled like a baby. it was the most awful thing i recall ever in my life so far. i guess that's some separation anxiety, but it's a psychic thing to, i knew i was linked to my old man cos of all his atlantis stuff. it was there in me to. that was our spirit. mine and his. that was where we came from, he took the practical path and i took the magickians. it must have skipped a generation but anyways the whole point of this rambling and raving is somewhere in my imprint this lays as a prime directive. so i should thank my parents, i love you both and a writer is the worst kinda son. forgive me cos i know i tested you both, but look at me, i'm amazing. i write and work and have a good playful nature most of the time, i'm one hell of a man, women dig me, men don't know what the fuck to do with me, dogs and cats and most of the animal kingdom adore me so what the fuck? did i transgress a line somewhere back there?
i must have transgressed em all now.
anyways it don't matter, we got jakob ashton now and he's a fucking singularity.

i smoke the weed
that's my sacramental choice.
it's for devotion to jah.
to the universe.
the universe is beautiful, it manifests beautiful things, and girls.
women.
i love em.
especially the ones that love me.
anyways
here i am at mission control pondering some ones navel, listening to kate bush. how much i love this ariel. i see the beauty in it.
i see the beauty in miss cupcake to, mmm, i didn't mean to fall in love with her, jesus, i just wanted to be a really good friend to her, she seemed like she needed one but she's gone and become a woman right in front of my eyes. soft girl lives. now that's a beautiful thing. and i'm not really sorry for falling in love with that. old captain mission is a strange man, he's seen it all. there's nothing left that can surprise me i guess. i seen it all baby. everything. the best bits are simple things, walking along the beach with some one you love, looking at stars and eating lumberjack cake. and the best thing is love itself because if you didn't have it then your lumberjack cake, walking on the beach, and miss cupcake wouldn't be so special and the best thing about soft girl is she makes me feel safe. that's it folks.

walking along a beach with a beautiful woman is one of my fave things to do, if it's a sunday it's even better.

down the art gallery a woman comes over and tells me she lives opposite me. we chat for a while, he husband is the artist but im not impressed, he is an illustrator more than a painter. he's painted a great portrait of a famous surfer who was a good friend of my ex wife. it's an exceptional painting. captures his spirit.
later
in a big house with strange music piped out by the pool which overlooks the ocean and lovely palm trees blowing in the wind, stars fill the sky, we smoke large spliffs and play ping pong a game i really like, it takes me a while to get warmed up. oh yes this is good, i realise it's saturday as there's a paper laying around on the table. i flick through the arts section, it's pretty ordinary. the smh has no imagination even in it's arts section. i smoke another spliff and head home.

when i returned from interzone she started asking me lots of questions,
i didn't mind answering them but i felt kinda weird because i knew she was uncomfortable about the answers.
what was this like?
what did you do then?
why did you do this and not that?
i didn't mind being interrogated by sexy girls in uniform but i don't like it when people don't like my answers.
anyway she kept pushing me, and my answers became more obsure. i turned the whole energy around and started asking her questions, she didn't even see the subtle engineering at work, i just let it happen, soon i had her answering my questions, revealing her life to me, her lovers, her ex husband, the people around her, friends, the company, the system, she told me all her secrets. every single one. and then when i fucked her she told me how much she loved me.

wondrous glow
basking in your strange sobriety
it's like radiance
on a wave length i can play in.
see solar winds and flare
see lunar eclipse
all cosmology
dances around us in it's ballet of love
forces we cannot see but we know are there
working through us
like flow.

i get an e mail from a lady who does my horoscope, usually i never open these e mails and just trash them, not because i am cynical its just time. but today i opened the e mail and it said, 'destiny has marked your path with three 7's'
miss cupcakes birthday springs to mind, 19/7/1977
then i think of crowleys book of correspondence liber 777
everything connects.

01-01-11
the dance of karma has played out itself. everything full circle, new beginnings. last night i saw the source of the matrix, it was the high priestess, ayahuscia in human form, we laughed at the way we work, and then she put me back in the matrix. i could see the binary code, her 0's and 1's transformed from words to actual numbers and for a long time the matrix revealed itself until i realised she was telling me the auspicious date that is the new years day.
i was at home before midnight with pan, who does not like fireworks.
we huddled up and i tried to calm him as he trembled, it seemed appropriate that i should share this moment with my dog.this is how i have done it for years.
in the morning i check in with my zodiac.
i realise that the changes it speaks of over the last few years have actually occurred although in subtle ways. there's a lot to be said for this chart but i only read it in hindsight, often i am uncertain if this a good thing as my powers to discriminate between subjective and objective reality are occasionally thrown out of whack by my multi dimensional capabilities. everything can be everything for me, it's all just part of the maya, even the truth, the ultimate mindset and trap.
i'm free from the shit that used to drag me down, free from need and free from want. desire leads to unhappiness and misery. all i want is for my friends, the people i love to be happy. it's been a strange old life, i get it, it took me ten fucking years of hard hacking and cosmic rearranging, that's undoing, reformatting my neural networks and working on my chakra and auric fields. but it also took shamanic work, death and rebirth. where i am is the same place i always have been, i'm just aware i am there now. that's the point. i'm a believer and i have spent the last 12 months in devotional consciousness. it's time to move.