wow! what a great day today has been, a real day off. filled with tangents and oddity, big issues resolve themselves and return full circle, love your enemies people, the most powerful spell in the last two thousand years, that's the word.
it was good to see you alh, you're a singularity. i wish one day i could drink the medicine with you. grok,
i guess we are still different but share the same work ideas. and here you are again, headhunting, i like that we walked into that room this morning.
'hi jojo,' you say to jojo, i can't see anything because your standing in the doorway when you introduce me to jojo and then ask him about his performance.
i leer in to look, 'stand up comedy?'
'yeah, how did you know?'
'i read your aura man'
''what colour was it?'
'don't know jojo, it just made me laugh.'
and then you said, 'bye jojo, if you need anything just ask,' 
you gave me the look and shut the door.
that was it right? 


later i have an amazing mushroom soup with the high priestess and i steal her images while she talks about some shamanic bozo from south america. it's fun chatting but i'm selecting images, so my heads kinda wrapped around them, there are thousands and i have to scan fast. i'm not adept at multi tasking.
the soup is great, very nutritious, my body absorbs it fast. the images are good quality and varied, she's got great sounds and visions so i fill up a dvd worth and then a usb stick and then we decide to go to the mall but i stop home to pick up a split, cos no one would go to a mall straight.


i get a book on music, i think i wanna learn something about it that may influence what i do next, i wanna create something complex musically, something elegant, a less is more and some kind of interplay between instruments and sonics, using a deep realm, maybe something penetrating for the listener, one long spell. 
anyways hp is going into shops she has never been in, its funny because she is so attuned to environments and energy, the mall freaks her, we escape to the beach and smoke.
we watch the waves at night.


she tells me about her adventure in melbourne, the whole story, breaking into cars, an english gentleman she digs and i say, 'yeah he's your man.'
we drive back with her driving all over the road while using her ipad and showing me this guy, i look at his images and decide i really like this guy. she sent him a text saying, 'i'm in tears at the airport.'
and he just came to her rescue, straight away. that's cool, not many people left who behave like that, but he is a gentleman and i always dig that in men.
anyways hp seemed to have ended up in the arms of a good man, much better than the brazilian shaman hp, they are just shaman. gentlemen are a fucking beyond shaman.

well as we are all aware my spell to bring the past back for me to correct itself, my wish to reverse the flow of time and resolve all unresolved issues while creating a new and very bright future is happening, and almost coming to a conclusion while the future is about to go supernova.
i received a call from an ex girlfriend who is now quite high up and well respected in the social work field, she offered me a very interesting proposition and i will be meeting her tomorrow. but the strangest thing is as we spoke into the early hours many things rose from the surface of our past. possibly the most turbulent part of my history for she was also my lover. we spoke about the strange and twisted time, the two years after my divorce, my decent into madness and my awful shadow nature revealed to me. the conversation was extremely difficult for us, really hard going in parts but we knew it was time and worked through the issues and memories, my god, we'd survived murder attempts, sabotage, death threats, extreme situations, sexual depravity and self loathing, it was a very messed up time, i was in deep trauma having lost everything so suddenly and adrift in circumstances i could not control, i rode the currents of warfare that a wife holds over a guilty husband and i actively sought out an exit, anything for a quick get out of life option, i was mad and my pursuit of destruction resulted in, my death at the hand of another madman, as he quizzed the life from me, his hands wrapped around my throat, he looked at me and suddenly threw his hands up in abject shock and fear as he saw my smile. my total lack of resistance, the peace and calm that i found in that moment was the freedom i needed, and when he ran out the building i stood up and in a moment self reflection was surprised to feel, disappointed.
soon after that i left and began a different period of my life, but i knew something was wrong and i knew that i was avoiding my destiny, and i knew that i needed to turn my life around. which i did.
so here i am 17 years later, healing the damage, because i cast my spell.

decompression, my time is a long way away, i stepped through that time tunnel, one hatch saturated in anti gravity fields, a small wormhole, microscopic expansion and some highly sophisticated navigation software, i'm stepping out the targeted exit, an old movie set in the 1920's, i am dressed for the time, appropriately swallowed by the residual feedback, it may send some waves outwards but i will deal with them as they occur. the set looks huge, people moving around quite, a lot of noise, i find my place, discreetly blending into the small crowd of extras. a woman looks at me with wide eyes, i smile but refrain from engaging lest the feedback loop find me. she's staring at me, her intuition knows i don't belong, she starts to approach but the director intervenes, and pulls her away. she is made to stand stage left and offered an apple. the director asks me to walk across the camera, behind a wooden zebra, i realise that he is none other than charlie chaplain. i begin to walk when the first feedback loop hits, i have to use my time delay and skim the rip, 'charlie,' i say, ' a couple of years in switzerland.'
i feel the pull and slide back, through the wormhole and into the flux.

politics is like a very dangerous virus, once it infects you, you're kinda stuffed, i'm filled with the fucking horrid stuff at the moment and need an exorcism but i'll settle for a rant or rave, obama, what a joker he turned out to be, dropping israel, well i guess most smart people knew he word, i mean if you follow the patterns it's very clear. jews in europe being told they are not safe and should move to israel and then the very people who hate them in europe want them out of israel, it's why israel exists in the first place, elementary mathematics, even i can do it. obama trades bin laden, with al qaeda and then makes the devils bargain with the taliban. he needs to get out of afghanistan, he needs a result. the taliban have pakistan, what the fuck could they possibly want, see the picture form, they say we will let you win the battle but you give us israel, we want israel to fall, and why would obama argue, it's politics. anyway the jews won't go down so easy this time, they have done in the past but this time they won't.
the chosen people, you hate that don't you? how can they be chosen, what kind of god choses them over others, well lets look at the others, the christians who basically sponge form a jewish hippie, islam who basically need a reformation to bring them into an enlightened age of tolerance and moderation acceptance and harmony, hindus' and their derivatives whom i actually love and respect, and then there's the new agers who kind cover all bases and take on anything that comes their way as long as it doesn't challenge them or confront them to directly. well who is chosen?
lets see the christians put millions of jews to death in the inquisition. islam teaches it's devotees to kill jews, and the hindui's actually seem to share quite a lot in common with the jews, india and isreal both declared independence at the same time. both have trouble with their peaceful loving muslim neighbours, so what's the deal with this chosen business?
most jews would say they were just chosen to offer a platform of consciousness that there is only one god, one supreme intelligence that created the universe. that's the message they were chosen to deliver and then they were told to seek zion, and gather their tribes there and await the coming of god. which is pretty much what they have been doing for 4000 years, specifically in the last 61. so as they wait for god to turn up everyone else wants to kill them.

civilisation reminds us we are barbarians, monkey's with technological tools, the most important tool we have is consciousness and be ignore it at our peril. unconsciousness is what's under the pool, consciousness makes the surface, subconsciousness is the currents that run through our unconsciousness, driving our landscapes, shaping our desires. understand them and you stand a chance of being free, or perhaps being enslaved further.

magick teaches us one thing, how to be free, to follow a process like this is to ultimately engage in liberation, dion fortune understood this better than anyone else, for she kept hold of her mystical prerogative, but she was also drawn towards thelma and the sex magic of crowley who mapped the way but succumbed to ego entrapment, he never crossed the threshold and thus remained in illusion. whereas one could argue that ms fortune engaged with the sublime.
the female principle is rising, however women are confused by this, choosing ignorance over bliss, choosing to remain in a state of enslavement to moronic masculinity than enlightenment, it's sad but true.
i had a chat with a friend about shamanism, she was feeling dis-empowered. i have sat with her and watched how this works, she is the purest shamanistic person i know, she has divinity and a task but she shuns it every opportunity and ever hurdle, every tangent is an excuse not to meet her destiny for the road of the avatar is fraught with challenge and fear and often these manefest in one's so called friends. those closest to you will drag you down, sabotage you, help you fail and take you out. 'why' she asked?

the central issue for men is they cannot depend on women. you can't, it's like clutching smoke, sooner or later they let you down, somewhere along the road they betray you. this is a hard call. loyalty is something that occurs between a man and his dog, expect it from a woman and your gonna get disappointed.

it's not that woman don't wanna be loyal they just don't know how, they have no idea what constitutes loyalty so brain damaged are they from soap opera dramas, so under the spell they have no way to even comprehend these things. nope, for women it's drama, the more drama the more alive they feel, the less they have to face themselves, it's a sad fact that men are responsible for this, but the outcome is terrible as i watch women take on the worse quality of men. yeah if your woman wants to out drink, out fuck, out smart, out do you, then brother you're playing a loosing game, dump her and get a real life.

funny how when you watch all those zombie films you see the undead wandering around in a daze of denial, attempting to eat the living, those ideas are very much based in reality, a bunch of brain dead unimaginative morons, aka lawyers, solicitors, politicians, socialists, religious types, sports types and wife bashers running around terrorising the innocent.
i was wandering through babylon watching the zombie masses in the sales, they were going mental, credit card meltdown, buying up gadgets and trinkets to fill up a void. it was a hopeless case of rich externally poor internally, well i'm jumping to conclusions but i could not help but notice the lack of individuality, the lack of free will, everyone moving in the same direction, everyone wearing the similar coloured casual clothes, every one being remarkably indifferent to one another despite being linked by this invisible web of consumer conciousness. now i like buying shit to, but when i buy i usually know what i want, get it and go home, not meander through the malls ringing up credit, although i'm perpetually into my credit card by two grand, this is due to a serious miscalculation by my dealers and lack of self disipline when it comes to books.

i'm developing my grumpy olde man persona, he pops up every now and then, my son nick named me walther mattheu when he was about 5, along with my girlfriend at the time. they used to jump on my bed and yell, 'walter mattheu' knowing it drove me mental, ha, funny buggers, i'm not really grumpy but i like being old enough to be irritating and rub a few people up the wrong way, byron bay types, communists and the green movement although i must admit having a much greater respect for nature than they do. hypocrites.

anyway's in my grumpy persona i wear a black suit and carry a book called 'the end of times' by slavoj zizek a man i respect but disagree with on one fundamental principle, he has not factored into his left wing attitudes, human nature, and until this nature is challenged humanity as a collective cannot escape their own demise. i liked his note about the buddhist acknowledgement that war and conflict are inevitable and in order to survive man has to wage war against less enlightened beliefs. this complies with the dali lama's statement that the war in iraq was justified under the circumstances. the media did not make a big deal out of this, i guess it's to controversial and better to have global conflict that agreement, sells more papers.
anyway i have my grumpy glasses on, and anyone that looks at me moves away quickly, yeah fuck off leave me alone.
some poor woman decides to chat with me, but i hit her with some words and she makes an excuse and moves away, then someone starts talking about the cattle issue in indonesia, 'we can't offend our neighbours' she says.
'fuck them,' i say, 'we should be offending them and every country that has no respect for life that's the trouble with the world, not enough offending, we are to busy being nice instead of pointing out a few home truths.'
'well you have to be diplomatic,' she says.
'we don't have time for diplomacy, either people get it or they don't.'
they move away, leaving their bacon and toast.

dream distractions, intrude upon a beautiful morning, disturbance in the field around my aura, some forbidding energy penetrates and it takes the form of my mother, i am driving my work van, she has hijacked me to drive her to the airport when i should really be at a very important work meeting, and the van needs to be there to as people are dependant upon it. all the way to the airport i am being lectured on the priority of family, in my sleep i am twisting and turning, sweating and noticeably uncomfortable, 'family this and family that' she says, playing on my guilt. i'm thinking to myself, the old construct of family is changing, it's tribe for me, tribe is what works, i have some members of family who are in my tribe and some are not, i have a small tribe, mostly friends and like minded people whom i know love me and don't attempt to envy, compete of humiliate me any chance they get.
however i'm complying with my mothers wishes in the dream, and the consequences at my work place are dire.
the actions penetrate my consciousness and i can feel the anguish of conflicting values pulling me apart, there's only one way out for me, from what has become a lucid dream, and that is the path that we all need to take one way or the other, to wake up!

it is by freeing the mind from external influences, whether casual or emotional, that it obtains power to see somewhat of the truth of things. as i have come to see civilisation is merely a construct that reminds us we are barbarians by nature. to consider anything other than the pursuit of art and ones connection to the universe is an exercise in futility, rolling a big rock up a steep hill, camus was getting at this, kafka to in a different way. 

what is art but mans expression of the divine. this a scared work and requires a scared attitude. 

the business of art is not art, it does nothing for art really other than make money through it, one should always be aware of this. 

captain mission travels into the city to catch the first ever live performance of the refo:mation. wow, what an incredible night. firstly the evening is a fundraising for a noble cause, autism, which has great significance for me being an asberger type myself, but also having worked for many years with autistic people i do know how challenging this condition can be at it's extremes and how difficult it is for families and friends.  it was an incredible night, the reef played about five six songs from their cd, 'don't move' and 'traitor' and 'florian trout' were standouts, and then we saw a film about a young man who seems to have a gift for eighties chart hits and attempts to win a tv show called rockwiz and then the church play some tunes with a selection of guests, my fave being the tall cool guy with the slick moves singing, 'just for you.' which i must say was preformed very well.

well i was sitting in my armchair, enjoying the vibe, i see some friends, the church family, wow, sue see, rohan and sam, i speak to a few very nice people, soak in the good vibes, and leave at the end, as i have to get to the studio and do my own stuff.

refo:mation a night to rejoice and speculate the universe within, being an asberger type myself i found the whole evening worthy, i am well aware how difficult autism can be for those who are close to it's hosts, mmm, delicious vibration from a crowded stage, i sunk into the comfy armchair which i had found near the stage, enjoying the love in the air, soaking up steve's ease and the performance of songs from the very under rated  cd, 'The Refo:mation - Pharmakoi: Distance Crunching Honchos With Echo Units.'
so here i am driving out of the city towards the airport at midnight, on my way to the studio where i add some guitars and vocals to a song, val and i take a long walk through the bushland, we come across a lesbian couple, gertrude and alice who are swimming along a river, they are beautiful long necked swans, floating in a dream on a current of zen. we sit on a blue bench and time begins to slow. 
later we pass two morten bay fig trees, one in shadow looking ominous and darkly, somewhat from an angela carter short story, the other in sunlight, remarkably vibrant and benevolent, an net from the lord of the rings. 
later in the evening i drive home listening to our work, it's coming together but something is missing, it's not there yet, unfinished but close.

the morning takes me to an old friend, who is a professional editor, he assists me build a short u tube clip for the deep fix song eplilipsium which is now on u tube in all it's glory. the clip is simple but has some kinda interesting, if not strange surreal images to match the schizophrenic song structure, any way it reminded me why i wrote that song, it was when i discovered meredith was addicted to various pharmaceuticals and at the time i was on some heavy anti depressants due to the brain injury, i could feel my brain split into two, one half rejecting the unnatural order that the pharmaceuticals maintained and the other just falling into line, being dumbed down conditioned by some artificial chemical, it was a very strange feeling. i noticed that all the women in my life seemed to be using these pills for various reasons and it was destroying them, keeping them trapped in fear instead of facing their demons, it just made them suppress things and that would result in a vast range of destructive behaviors, ultimately rage. yeah i'd see the rage of women and it disturbed me. so i wrote this song about the ultimate pharmaceutical, epilipsium, seducing it's way to you, getting past your defenses with its romantic notions, a lover turning on, sliding closer and whispering in your ear like a siren and then when you can't resist, it turns around, and the whole experience becomes somewhat eerie and unpredictable and ultimately dangerous. 

i must confess a loathing for pharmaceuticals, yes i understand in some cases there is a need and the result is effective but these days they are far to available and insidious. drug companies do not want healthy people.

do you like my sexy new font?
i do.

i finish 'the broken ones' and immediately order the other book by the writer whom i have found out is called, steven irwin. my dealer rings me to say she has already tracked it down and i consider if i should use her to assist in some other extra curriculum work i am doing, hunting for esoteric and occult manuals, particularly the 'liber obsidian obscura' which i have been looking for for seven years. 

anyways i go down to pick up my book, exiting the car i'm hit by a large cloud of perfume, cheap and lacking any class, it hits me straight on the nose and almost makes me reel, i'm not sure if it's me for a moment, have i some how been infected by some strange horrible smell that is now following me every where i go. i recall the smell of a skunk, this is almost as bad, overwhelming, fear drives me to a memory i had. when i was travelling through america on my skunk encounters i had been informed by many locals in skunk country the only way to get rid of the smell is to bathe in tomato sauce and burn the clothes. so looking for the nearest equivalent i came across some cafe selling beetroot soup and ordered a bowl.

twenty minites later im feeling much better and the panic of cheap perfume bombs evaporated. 

i picked up my book, can't wait to read it, this steven irwin chap writes a good story.

i have been invited to a party, wow it's from miss mayfair whom i must admit i have a very high regard for, not only a brilliant writer but an incredible wealth of knowledge and in possession of that strange quality that all sentient beings are drawn towards, he mystery of something within, more than beauty, wealth or surface details, like all great people, and there are not many, she possesses numinous spirit, it oozes from her eyes and heart and i guess if your that way inclined it's somewhat irresistible to feel compelled towards. let's face it she's an old soul, and we have met somewhere before and it was obvious to me from the moment i spoke with her she really belongs with my friend steve, they actually are incredibly attuned. it is written in the stars, the eye of the panther, the lines on the sands and patterns of waves. to some one like me it's nature doing it's stuff but who knows, ego is a strange mechanism, it has a habit of sabotaging happiness.
anyway's i will do my best to attend, the week is looking remarkably busy with all sorts of events taking place, i must manipulate my space time flux and see if it is possible to be several different places at the same time. for this i will require a portable worm hole and some white sage.

woken from deep sleep by the grating sound of a work man, disturbance in the tranquility flux, plucking captain mission from the interzone where he was involved in some kind of mystery, following a trail of subtle clues to almost nail the case, however the result could have been lethal, in which case i must thank my tradesperson who it appears is sanding down mission control, ready for a repaint.
i escape the sound through the capsule, which propels me and pan out of the biosphere, into the wild and random town of newport where i scan the newspapers, read a little of my book, throw a ball, meet some old diggers, drink a coffee, catch some sunlight. it's all good but i can feel at the very corners of my mind an unsolved crime and that magnetic pull to solving it at any cost, i find some where quiet to rest, my eye's close and within seconds i'm back on the trail of a killer.

my dealer hit me up with some new product, it's called 'the broken ones' by an australian writer and i have to say it's the first time i have really been enthusiastic about an australian writer in years, i have no idea who this guy is, but the book he has written is brilliant.
yeah my book dealer runs a small independent and well respected book shop and she is often given books that have yet to be published to read and comment upon, she can't read everything that comes her way and will often pass stuff on to me, especially if it's somewhat transgressive, outside the box, or science fiction.
she handed me this book a few days ago and i'm halfway through it. set some time in the near future in a queensland city, possibly brisbane, after an event called grey thursday, every human being is assigned a ghost, a single presence they may or may not know, who is with them all the time. these ghosts send many insane, due to the errie concept of being present in their lives all the time, and often the criminals use them as an excuse for which they are not charged. our protagonist investigates claims like these and is a haunted person himself, from his past and from a young boy who is his assigned ghost.
we follow his journey through the darkest landscape you can imagine, meeting some pretty well developed characters and some very unsavoury personalities. as he follows the leads in a brutal and savage murder investigation, leading into what appears to be an occult area.
i gotta say it's very well written, and i believe will be insanely successful as a book and eventually a movie, i love it, i love it so much i wanna be the main character in the movie. i could do that character, i really could.
anyway it's a great book and i'm half way through.

in the studio with val, i'm recording my marvyn gaye moment that kinda turns into a prefab sprout meets david bowie type of things, it's pop but with a little soul and some lyrics i wrote many years ago. the songs called, 'vermont girl with salad dressing' and i wanted to record it to see if my vocals would be able to pull it off as it is quite a complex little piece that requires some versatile singing and harmonies. and the song has a kinda history but i'll tell you about that later.
i'm driving home listening to it and thinking this is good, this is very good, and believe me i am my own worst critic, but it is good and there's something there, in that song that makes it good, it's authentic and from the heart, and it's got soul.
off course i have no attachment to it other than i am happy with the sound i achieved and that when i'm recording with val i am probably at my happiest, making music and expressing myself
vals a good person to work with, we dive deep, into the mix, under the surface, in a process he says is technical and i say is esoteric, we pull back from the depths something 'glimmering and white' like a rabbit from a hat, it's equal parts subconscious, equal parts thought and reflection, but it's good, it's more real than anything else, it has spirit and soul and a certain self satisfaction because with practise and understanding i get better and better, i know i do. but at the end of the day i don't care weather people like it or not, weather it sells or not, weather girls dig it or not, i don't care one bit, i only seek one persons approval and i probably will never get it but im gonna try and try and try and that's gonna make me better.
what a great day, val is like my long lost twin, it only works with us together doing our thing, messing with the mix, fucking with the sound, taking things to the edge and pulling it back. the deep fix have a groove, always something new, always something different. yeah, it's only rock and roll, or is it?

twenty two years ago i set up an organisation for people with intellectual disabilities, it was a kinda strange moment in my life where i had arrived in australia with my wife and a son on the way, i scored this weird job called a social educator, working for these north shore housewives who had put together a small group home for four clients. i was full of pride and responsibility back in those days, a different animal, i wanted to provide and bring in some money, and suddenly i was in a career.
i went along to the interview and there was a room filled with young girls, all about my age, looking at this freakazoid in dreads and sunglasses talking about his experiences in london with psychiatric clients and in america with children, they loved my accent, my strange fashion sense, the fact i was able to hold a conversation about anything and made them laugh, i knew i had that job as i walked into the room and i started work knowing i would love this job.
my first shift i was asked to train a client how to put a condom on a carrot and budget for his weekly visit to the brothel up the street.
'hey honey, what dod you do at work today?'
'dear mum, i got a new job in my new adopted country, it involves taking people to brothels...'
well you can imagine, it was peculiar but as it turned out i was very good at the parts of my job that dealt with challenging behaviours and soon i was asked to develop plans and for some reason sought out, eventually i was promoted and became the manager. during this time the house wives who ran the house had got funding to become an experimental organisation and the first of its kind in australia, a model which is only being used now, and is considered cutting edge even though it's twenty years old.
the idea is that clients get their money and use it to buy services they need, as individuals, its like brokerage and gives them control. we were pretty 'out there' i took clients on demonstrations, we explored sexuality, we supported marriages and integration and community education and got a lot of respect and recognition, and in the early days of the organisation a young elf like canadian started working alongside me and we became friends. actually we became more than friends but that was later on.
she was a genus, a maverick and had a very sharp mind and unique perspective which was similar to mine, she also had an amazing sense of humour. we became best mates after seconds, both being aliens in a new world, both being freaks. we shared a love for art but whereas i was always intellectualising she would cut through to the truth and nail it sometimes, although she could make terrible mistakes and assumptions.
anyway she went on and became the co ordinator and i helped her and eventually we became lovers and spent two years hating one another. she was my betty blue romance,  fuck it went from being good to bad real fast and very extreme, but all the way through while we worked i supported her and encouraged her and kept her on track, clients first.
after my seventh year there as a manager i left and disappeared for a while. i saw her briefly and it was all very superficial and a bit sad.
this morning i received a letter from her.
she thanked me and said i had been her role model through her career.
she attached a letter from the management saying, how wonderful she was and how she had made the organisation what it was today, which is very respected.
i was happy for her. she is unique, and as much as i was a role model for her she was for me in some ways. but what was nice is some acknowledgement.
i sent a letter back saying, 'i can't believe it took them 22 years to acknowledge your genius, i knew first week after i met you.'
anyway it's a life of surprises.
we will catch up soon and apparently she wants to talk to me about a proposal, i'm a little nervous as i have had a period of ex girlfriends contact me and make strange requests regarding children, but maybe this will be different.

the human and the honud, i watch their interaction from my containment area the human keeps me within,
observe everything, i receive all vibration from organic modules, the hound is a limited beast with basic but pure intention, the human has somewhat complex organic vibration, he has complex matrix and leaves vortex potentialities in his wake. i transmit to him many variations of the cosmic principle, he picks distortions up, reassembles them in his imagination. interesting specimen, i have trained him to follow the eightfold path.
he has read many things from information packs, i sometimes look at the piles of them that lay around, i articulately like his pornography and his science fiction books. alister reynolds is an interesting writer. some human units have very interesting mind expanses. he plays sound vibrations in the evening, many different but one vibration appeals to him above others, the church. he plays sound vibration harmony many times, i have looked over his collection, this sound vibration is my favourite to, rich exotic tapestry of aural significance, the wordsmith is transcendence of species barrier, tone painting, exotic realm, divine spirit and wonder fabric, intoxicating.
sometimes human unit captain mission has female human unit for company, they have mating ritual patterns, heightened pheromone activity. other times human unit captain mission is isolated and directed in inner contemplation of vast realm mind.  he is unique in multi diminutional access, vortex master, i have communicated this to my tribe who have requested i make contact. the octopus goddess in the sky has revealed herself to him,  embedded in consciousness, fractal information disseminated throughout internal aura. he is awakened but dormant, pattern release will occur in the next few weeks.
the octopus goddess requests daily info feeds in quanta packets, i will commence reportage, stay tuned.

big bone, chew my way through, crunch split drool, crunch chew, mmmm, bouncing ears, chase must hunt run run run through the woods, through the fields of barley, through the tall grass, through an english meadow, damm, bouncing ears shot down the hole into nothingness, void, smell fades. what's that noise, penetrating, my name. pan. it's him, the captain of my heirachy of needs, captain of my universe. he's getting my connecting lead, i better get my ball, where is it, mmm, here it is, let's go captain, lets go, i'm ready, i'm in this moment, lets have running fun, i'm excited to see you, i'm happy, look my tail wag, my eyes are lit up like night spheres lights up once a cycle.
down steps, watch me captain, i have the ball, don't worry, i won't loose it, run down to the front, come on, run with me captain, lets run past the trees, the postman's pole, come on captain, oh i see, i better sit by him, for the lead attachment ceremony.
see me pride, walk along side, we are harmonious, like holy dao, like the great spirit, captain has head inside book, mine is sniffing out new world scent, messages are left, oh, there's news written everywhere, information hits my nose, process, mmmm, we come to large area, soon attachment lead will be released and freedom explosion. i'll skip and run fast, return the ball, running in circle, i will follow strange new message trails and explore the area, but i will stay with the captain as loyalty bond dictates.
ah time dissolve speed, attachment lead reconnection, i must walk along side now, other bipeds stop to admire me, i sniff them, strange artificial smells, some toxic, some are vile, the captain will stop at money box slot, for beep noise interaction, he will look at the girl in the hairdressers and exchange pheromone shots, he will escort me past bread wave scent place, where i will inhale deeply and hold the essence, we will turn and walk uphill towards sitting bipedal drinking place and the captain will drink and read large paper information, he does not smell information but visions it with eye. bipedal world must be different, sight based. i sit by captains side, sometimes friendly biped offer me their food, i just have to look soft. sometimes i see open hearted human. other canine brothers and sisters pass by, they are not stopping, small aggressive ones are not welcome, captains defines system is strong, i can smell his shield when barking occurs or loud noise startles him. maybe i will lay down now, have rest, soon there will be sacred drinking time. close eyes, chase the bouncing ears.
oh now we walk to sacred drinking area, i fill myself, walk back, leave messages for my brothers and sisters, return run is always faster, captain is happy he has information download and hot caffeine syrup inside, soon it will be feeding time.
excitement, anticipation, electricity current, tail spins whirling in joy, it's the time of eating upon us, soon i will be in my new canine home on my blanket with belly full of food, legs tired, ready to enter the other world and chase the bouncing ears through the fields. and here is captain mission, he is with me, i am with him, always, the sacred loyalty bond unbroken.

in the quest for a good science fiction film super 8 has disappointed me greatly, evan and i went along expecting greatness and were given corn. the concept was okay but the corn factor was high as was the cheesy script. cheese and corn are the enemies of any good film. we are fundamentally opposed to c and c in our entertainment, we need stimulation and challenge not corn and cheese.
its very depressing that science fiction does not get made properly by directors and writers, there are just a handful of good movies that nail it, 'monsters' 'district 9' 'blade runner' and '12 monkey's' spring to mind but there are a handful more. the same in book form. but there are some amazing books that would translate very well onto screen with a little thought and finesse, alister reynolds, 'pushing ice' would make an awesome film, as would dan simians 'hyperion' and not to mention embassytown.

well now, i wake up to a waterlogged daydream daze, she says, 'make some coffee darling,' and i do, choosing a purple capsule, looking for something to bite, wrapped in a tigers skin blanket, i'm shivering and licking my lips at the thought of more animal lust, she ripped my halo from me, and i tore of her wings, quite eventful, the room looks like it's been in the spin dry for a few days, i smile to myself.
later i wake up again, mmm, alone, i must have slept deeply, it's late in the evening, i smoke a joint, a leftover splif, i potter about in the premature dusk, and i remember my friend in melborne, she needs me with her, i tune in and turn on, i dropped out years ago, i'm in the after glow of lust, basking in some ego adjustment. i have to calibrate my consciousness and extend it like a focused impulse beam, wave form. there i connect. these little psychic events excite me, okay, hold the space because there's some wild energies here, yeah it's strange, powerful, all over, containment and then a subtle direction. that energy has to go somewhere, it's a law of the universe energy cannot be destroyed. i take it and send it on its way. later i get a text message.

'purrfect, it was awesome and so was your support, people said it was the best medicine ever. it was the best circle i have ever had.'

i reply, 'you are the medicine.'

i sink into my day, ponder something warm, the cold makes my bones ache and my old wounds throb, my muscles ache to but in a good way. i'll dream some thing tonight, i know blue vishnu will come again, i need to be ready, distance cannot dictate, magnetic forces are at work, oh blue vishnu, born between night and day, i entered into you as decreed, and you me, i release from you and you from me, omniscience, sovereignty over each other and others, unbounded energy, unlimited strength with no depletion, vigour eternal, splendour such is a sun.
captain mission makes preparations for her.

blue vishnu in a tattoo, skin contact with the sex principle, she's a radiant being, no stealer of souls, yet she steals my juice, erotic flesh machine, what do we seek but oblivion now. in soft sighs and gentle moans, one extended scream, pleasured smile, glimmer in your pupil, lips parting bloom to kiss. we slept till dawn and in the morning she was gone, she never stays for breakfast, but it's okay she feasts upon my need and i'm okay with my blue vishnu and her eastern promise. a little death they say goes a long way, in tantra i am replenished.
down in babylon, the strange meeting of minds, tim, chris and i run through some factual evidence, truths abound but they are lies, tim says, 'there is no truth' and i reply, 'that's your truth.'
cosmic dimensions applied, i'm doing my thing, checking stories getting mine straight, there's a touch of lou reed in the air, street hassle, a friend sees me and i'm ignored, it's appropriate i think, she's with her trained chimp whom i find difficult to engage with, good bye i think, onwards to a final resolution, my thoughts pass me, fleeting things a woman tells me that i look like i am about to rob the bank. it's true, i wear a hood black pants, black boots, black jacket, i have a black beard and very dark skin, i guess to the dumbed down zombie brain of the monkey mind i am about to rob a bank but i reply, quite aggressively, 'madame, you will find the robber of banks are the banks, and mostly wearing suits and ties under the glamour of respectability,' she walks away looking very embarrassed as i add to more words to my equation, 'wall street.'
later another person, quite random implies i am going to mug her, to which i respond, 'i wouldn't waste my time, there's nothing in your mind i would want.'
yes i am direct and defensive today, tim looks at me proudly, yeah tim knows me and respects me. that's why he's my friend.
the cold closes in, dressed in fashionable labels and super trend but i blast them all with my moon powered ray gun, it's electric blue blast cuts through stupidity, hypocrisy and lies like a laser, there's no defence, i got my electric eye on you babe.
we split, on the corner of the street, the feng shui flows to a standstill at this point, i've mapped babylons currents, i'm familiar with them, ride them like waves after a starburst.
i drive home for a quick smoke at spots.
all is in place for the rise and rise of captain mission.

drop into my high priestess, sip on some amazonian brew she has cooked up, it's really quite yummy, we knock ours back and within moments that familiar guest enters our bodies, hello old friend, it's good to see you once again. high priestess is off to host in melbourne but she is somewhat nervous, and quite rightly, she will be guiding 30 peoples to death, anyone would find that nerve inducing, she can do it, i remind her who she is, she's the high priestess and the spirit of the vine.
i play her two tunes from snuff, she likes them which i am happy about.
i drive away heading home into a cloud of grey haze and watery fog, the amazon tingles inside me, i feel like jaguar god. home before the storm, i batten down the hatches, i have a few offers tonight, conflicted i may just stay in, but then again i'm a jaguar god tonight, anything could happen, anything.

i uncovered some lost footage of the deep fix playing live, it's messy and choppy and i'm afraid to say not that brilliant but i'll attempt to tweak it and post it online somewhere. i think with some audio tweaks it may be suitable for listening and i'll work on some interesting visuals to keep you stimulated cos watch me sing is a bit like watching a drunken man swagger his way up and down the stage stopping for a chat and a glass of water. ha, i'm ridiculous but the songs seem to come across well and the audience appears more enthusiastic than i was aware of on the night. anyway you can pick up some interesting comments, 'wow, the singer sure is sexy' a young woman says to her friend....

christopher nolans film 'inception' is indeed a masterpiece, not just of film making but story telling, the plot is complex rich and layered as a team of specialists attempt to plant an idea in an industrialists mind while he is dreaming. they use an architect to structure the landscape of the dream, but because the idea needs to be extremely subliminal they need to have the dreamer dream within the dream three layers down, each layer spawning more complex mechanisms and defences than the other, all the while the actual combatant team plus the victim are in a deep sleep.
the reality of dreams is exquisitely explored here, many themes the viewer can relate to, as we navigate the dream parameters.
it's an excellent script, a fascinating story made complex by the team leaders own dream trauma and the awful philosophical question we all ask ourselves, 'is this real?'
brilliant film.

painting floors in a big house in whale beach, we watch the sunlight refract from the surf, a plume of rainbow coloured lights across the beach, wow, it's beautiful, perfect spot for a new start, the house looks great as we saturate it, white out, i return to mission control with aches and pains in strange muscles i didn't even know where there..
the following day i'm in crows nest with miss cupcake and poppy, this used to be quite a posh part of sydney but now it's kinda trashy and grungy, there's a lot of human traffic passing through, the smell of drugs and some kinda weird dirty energy in the air. it's strange seeing this change, it's been a while since i been to this part of sydney, it makes me appreciate where i am on the northern beaches but i wonder what will happen as a million new people flood in. they have to live somewhere.
it's a good weekend, i catch up with nico and we have breakfast and a game of soccer which wears me out, she's like action mum, in three places at once and still looking glamourous, whereas i have arthritic pains in all my old broken bones and worn out and somewhat aching head home, i stop at the cinema and take myself to see x men first class which is excellent. i love magneto, he's probably close to the type of super villain i would choose to be, he's knows what humans are, he knows there's no escape from the nature of the beast. it's a great film, very stylish with a kinda 1960's james bond type feel. the soundtrack is fantastic and the last few scenes really set up the other films. excellent.
i'm getting closer to home, stopping of for some bones for pansy, i'm looking forwards to a long hot bath, looking forwards to finishing the new book i am reading, 'dimeter' by william peter blatty who is a very good writer and has told a very interesting and emerging tale that is yet to reveal how it's strands come together. it starts in albania in the 70's which is not a place i would particularly want to visit, a torturer gets nowhere with his mysterious suspect, only mystery surrounds him and then he escapes. next we are in Jerusalem, with a dr who's character you feel you know, and this is what i like about blatty as a writer, his characters have a deep spiritual philosophical imperative, and a great sense of humour.