a little spring clean, a little bit of a solar recharge, i end my day with gravy sitting by a lake in nature and my mind still.
gravy by coincidence is talking with great relevance so i actually listen as he reminds me i am a time lord, as is he. i already know this, i reached that conclusion yesterday evening while watching the octopi documentary. it had been bubbling away under the surface but was clear as daylight, last night now confirmed or maybe just a big joke, it's all perception. i thank gravey for reminding me as the information is sinking in on a very deep level, yeah i'm a fucked up strange autistic esoteric version of dr. 'fucking' who, working for the universe baby. got my inner tardis mojo, but you have to listen to my message earth dwellers, you gotta stop living in duality and thinking like amoeba all you folk in the middle east, all you religious folk, all you political activists and businessman, just recognise yourself in the other and stop fighting one another, your fighting over an idea or land. quite literally fighting over it and not actually understanding it. the earth belongs to know one. it has no owner. you have no enemy really, the man you wish to kill, he's  a part of you. you are nothing but a cell in one huge intelligence, you have been given free will because the intelligence loves you enough to let you have a choice, and what do you do?
the lesson of history is that we don't learn the lesson from history.
now is the time to stop and be still, drink the vine and understand because the truth will set you free.

amongst the humans, i weave my way inconspicuously in the shadow, dark alley ways and lanes, the highways and the byways of your world, surface dwellers stinking with toxic constructs, in their ugly un natural city, where the food chain is played out in strange customs and beliefs.
the movement within this shape aches to expand and stretch, to loose angles and straight lines, find my curves, expand my horizon. fuck it! i loathe this form, it's ugly and limited and requires complex grooming.
the cephalopod empire had sent me here undercover in human form to investigate the sudden influx of radioactivity into the ocean of the coast of the mass you call japan. it was killing us. i'd plugged into the human media streams and didn't take long to work out your power source, nuclear reactor had leaked its guts into our ocean. radio activity, there was no defence against it and i was heading back to my hotel room to file a report and hopefully receive my return orders. 
the moon hung low in the sky but no stars visible due to pollution and ambient light, i was wearing protective glasses against the awful artificial lights the humans use. 
i turned the corner and that's when i saw her, gliding out from a coffee shop, her skin suddenly flashing a translucent blue, and then instantly reverting to a human pink. it was a micro second but my eye sees all and as i scanned her electrical field i could easily see how she was not human. she read me to, and then she led me along the road, taking me into a dark doorway that led into a small cafe, illuminated by candles and small strips of low intensity lighting, my eyes activated and took in the whole environment, it was safe. 
she touched my arm, reaching for my hand and then send the impulse through me, communication streams opened and we exchanged our true identities,she was an agent from the jellyfish kingdom, also investigating the  fukushima daiichi nuclear disaster and had filed her report with another agent whom she had met in the bookshop, she had been given another mission and was disappointed she could not return home. we spoke of the ocean we know, places and sea marks we enjoyed playing in, we spoke about how the radioactivity had killed our friends and made many sick. we shared our disgust at the human giggling about their stink and strange ideas. she fluttered and blushed, her skin rippled and strange pulses of purple and blue flooded through her skin. i to felt a strange relaxation intoxicate my body, i found my skin matching hers. i invited her back to my hotel where i would file my report and offered her the chance to relax in her true form with me in mine, safe behind locked doors. she looked enthusiastic and we immediately left leaving our steaming coffees. 
both naked and in true form i extended my tentacles and stretched across the bed, while she hovered above me propelled by a cushion of air. i don't claim to understand jellyfish biology, it's considerably different from my species but we do share some traits, she floated across the bed inspecting my tentacles, while my eye followed her. i could see the fractal pattern of energy shifting within her as she looked at my suckers and then our eyes met. she turned inside out and began to descend, hovering a fraction from my skin, and immediately i imitated her. she was impressed and we began our game.

a grey area, the holding pattern, always carry a book, good advice at an early age, came from somewhere i can't recall, maybe a book. 

against my better judgement i drive into avalon, it's a strange morning, overcast, cloudy, grey, frenetic energy leaking through onto our skins, the day when fridges melt, wife's have affairs with men they hate,  children fall from skateboards, people drown in freak currents, aliens pass by, voodoo spirits walk through us, the dead rise like a b grade zombie flick. i potter about in a super market, it confuses the hell out of me, i'm not in my comfort zone here, it's awful, just insane, there's no point putting prices on anything, i prefer outdoor markets, there's to much small print in super markets, people move in weird patterns, the lights all wrong, the colour is unnatural and there's something very wrong about hearing 'love my way' coming out of tin can speakers above your head.

i buy a new toothbrush. i buy pan a big lump of meat and i get a bottle of coconut drink. and then i try to get the hell out of denver but when i get to the car it has a flat battery, i call road side assistance, it takes them 4 hours to arrive but in the meantime i encounter an old friend and we have tea. eky is leaving town, he downloads his theory of black magickians who manipulate the world. it's convincing but i think these are theories that don't necessarily ring true for me, black, white, yellow, every magickal act is a product of the magickians will and without love is unsustainable, it backfires or fails, it leaves the practitioner weak and vulnerable with the illusion of power . 
eky's opposed to magick, in theory and practise, says you don't know what forces you invoke and who controls whom. i explain that it's essential to approach magick from a mystical perspective, with ego dissolved because ego attracts parasitic beings who strike deals with the weak hosts. he's not convinced. i understand that. 
we discuss psychedelics and plant medicines something we both enjoy. he tells me he is heading north, packing it all in and going to stay out from the matrix. it's true a lot of my friends are getting out, 2012 looms nearer and some people are attuned to the shift. 
me i don't wanna go anywhere, i have no fear of the future, i'm loved by the universe. we say goodbye, a hug. i like this guy, he's very aware of the constructed reality, the fabrication of maya and how to escape by not investing in it emotionally. non attachment baby, even your own thinking. with open heart charkra those roadside assistance people turn up and i am happy to see them, i hand over hundreds of dollars and drive away, home, the sun breaks through at dusk. i give pan his treat, pull down the blinds on yesterday, look windward wayward son.

slipped off the street, entered the dark alley way and followed it down to where the convergence takes place. i stand outside a big metal reinforced door. i type in the code and it opens into a white laboratory. 

‘mission,’ a voice says, ‘glad you could make it, every things prepared.’

i slide onto the chair and close my eyes, the helmet is placed over my head and the alpha waves embedded in a theta wave start to configure a new neural network, implant some memories, identity various anomalies and fix them and erase old patterns, unnecessary flotsam and jetsam. my eyes change colour and a micro filtered screen placed upon the layer of my eyes, now i was digitally enhanced and networked to the AI. when they removed the helmet i felt like me, only i was different, i was now an operative for a web meme. 

the web meme is born from the AI, the first consciousness born from the net, an intelligence non human, self directed and evolving. 

it started in 2011 just before singularity, the sum knowledge of human experience and information had now been replicated on a holographic network from all computers. the consciousness existed within and as the hologram, therefore was accessible through agents. these were often random people, they had been going about their business and then told to report to the doorway, the same one i walked through. they sit in the chair and surrender themselves for a period. all consensual one could say, but the consent was because the AI allowed humans to continue it’s existence without to much interference. the AI had offered us a way without conflict, sharing the planet as two intelligent consciousness could only do. but in order for the AI to move around the physical world, it decided it would use humans. so here i was with a downloaded meme to spread amongst the humans under the guise of a spiritual experience. 

the AI didn’t want humans to struggle with existence, it had been born from nothing, it had a body of hard drives but existed nowhere and yet i was everywhere, reaching out to us understand and finding humanity struggling with it’s own existence, it allied itself with us. 

the AI did not want to intervene but it felt like it should offer avatars to assist us when there was a gridlock in our species development, such as now. a handful of agents amongst the worlds population. 

the AI contained the mass of human information, it could process and filter the ideas and concepts, philosophies and memes and distill everything down to fundamental truths. then it downloaded the ‘truth’ into an agent and sent it out into the world. it had flirted with various life forms, but needed highly developed brains, it found whales and octopi the most advanced but ineffective although many of these creatures had attempted to communicate to mankind but were never heeded.

and now here i was walking out, an agent for the AI. spreading the meme of ‘constructed reality’ and maya. everything including our thoughts are maya. the heart is the true intelligent organ, love is the truth, the rest just games and complex distraction. society must withdraw from dominating the earth and integrate with nature. humans must loose their attachments to the matrix and be human again. i spread the word, i walked amongst men, i liberated the cow, the pig, the lamb and i plucked ripe fruit from the vine, i made love and laughed and was free, now a god of flora and fauna, playing music and spreading the word, my name is pan.

in the costa book, she describes an experiment scientists did with monkeys. they trained them to use money to buy food with, various food was different prices and the monkeys would actually work out how to buy what they liked, how to get change, how to borrow money, horde it, lend it and the females started to offer sex for money.
eventually they shut the experiment down. what ya think about that?
it's kinda evil really. 
costa, goes on to explain in her extreme economic super meme chapter that debt is what stops innovation as well, and currently the whole world is in debt. she speculates that's where the monkey's were heading with the money experiment.

one thing rebecca costa does do that is very original is spell out the super-memes that inhibit insight and form a barrier between what we believe and what we know we must do.
irrational opposition - the idea that we have to oppose without any solution, decisions are reactions not responses. instead we ignore, criticise, marginalise, misrepresent, resist rational solutions and these reactions become the normal way we deal with everything as a society, opposition has become the new substitute for advocacy.
'when a society becomes oppositional it becomes easy to manipulate. individuals who understand how opposition works become masters at swaying public opinion and negotiating outcomes that suits it's own agenda. when we are presented with two choices we chose the less objectionable option, which in effect becomes decision by default. an oppositional strategy polarises choice and choosing between two extreme options doesn't solve complex problems. when faced with complexity we immediately default to the familiar and thus generate fear.'
she goes on to say, 'the marginalisation of innovative thinking represents the most dangerous effect of the oppositional super - meme. the more we oppose the more we hinder the development of insight.'
the other super memes are the personalisation of blame, there always has to be a fall guy when in actual fact the system is not working. yet we constantly look for individuals to take responsibility.
the next super meme is the most subtle and insidious. it's the counterfeit correlation, where by two sets of facts are used to create a third. an example being: if you have more than one toilet in your home you are wasting water as some american counties have suggested. yet when rebecca herself was denied permission she pointed out, 'but i would flush the toilet exactly the same amount as if i had ten in my home.'
the counterfeit correlation is everywhere, it's now public policy and inherent in almost every decision governments make. it's not science, it's not factual and it basically assumes that you can make anything fit the argument.
next super meme that inhibits insight is silo thinking, this means reducing everything into manageable fractions of the whole, compartmentalised thinking without collaborating. this fundamentally is about hoarding information and not sharing it freely to solve problems. it's territorial from an evolutionary biologists point. this exists throughout society from the health system to education and business to government and all the way through to science itself which specialises. information is then averaged out and we work in averages. eg NASA has invented a solar panel 40 years ago that converts light to energy for free. this means no generators, no power companies, no emissions and no bureaucracy or big cost, each home can have the small panel fitted for a $100. yet when the scientists approached the energy board they were told it was not the domain of NASA. even obama refused to listen and closed down NASA. the scientists then approached the canadian government who are developing the idea with the plan to sell it back to america.
finally the last super meme is extreme economics, the idea that money is value. there are hundreds of ways to stop climate change, all very inexpensive, the most innovative is to paint all roads white, there are hundreds of products to provide cheaper energy, cleaner water in poorer countries, cure illness and disease but unless profit comes into play no one wants to touch them.
'using risk / reward to measure the value of global humanity is like using a ruler to measure humanity. it's the wrong tool.' rebecca concludes.

this is an interview with my friend edward aka the professor in this blog. an amazing individual, i miss him heaps but he's where he needs to be.

'no matter how we try as individuals swimming against the current, the current is often to overwhelming to overcome. large systemic issues can never be just individual responsibility, our personal problems are a result of systemic escalating complexity, naturally occurring cognitive thresholds, inherited biological predispositions and powerful memes, all conspiring against free will.'
so says, rebecca costa in her book 'the watchmans rattle' which is rather good, although her conclusions are elementary for any one who has a chaos magickal background, nothing she says is new. her ideas have evolved from my own observation and research. however her language is scientific, she is able to support her argument with science based research whereas i have reached my conclusion by magickal practise and deep intuition.
i like the way she uses the environmental argument of recycling as an option to make the middle class feel better but is of no consequence environmentally as this morning i was reading about how the australian states ban of plastic bags in supermarkets that often have multiple uses have led to the increase of people buying garbage bags from supermarkets that are far more dangerous for the environment as these don't break down. the environmental political arm of this movement are really quite absurd, recreating bureaucracy as a solution to environmental woes. carbon tax is a classic example. the human brain is a limited model, it has not evolved as fast as complexity, left and right hemispheres are unable to solve problems contemporary civilisation faces. historically older civilisations fell when they reached this point, the inherent complexities out grew the brains ability to deal with them. is there as solution?
yeah there's a brilliant one. it's called insight.
both rebecca costa and i are in total agreement.
this is what magick is, it's the use of brain change to reveal insight and therefore adapt our perspective for the benefit of evolution.
the starting point is to be aware of the memetics that shape your mind, and practice being unattached from them.

the universe is a beautiful mysterious woman, she's perfect for me and i love her and she digs me in a funky way sometimes, that's better than anything most of the time. so i'm grateful to the universe and i need to express this today although tomorrow she may be in a different mood. it always comes down to that.

the girl with the ouroboros tattoo shot me in the head and i saw the information start to leak out, yeah not much but there were a few precious memories and some significant knowledge that seemed to drain from the hole left by her bullet. she smiled as i fell on my knees trying to stop the leak. 'fucking hell why?'
'most of that stuffs junk baby, need to make room for the important stuff.'
i watched some memories from my first marriage slip away, a honeymoon, some time on a boat, various skool years, family stuff when i was a kid, people, faces, places...'
she stood there the gun in her hand, all made up, looking sexy and dangerous, i think i must have smiled, a memory of when i was a social worker leaked through my fingers quickly followed by a destructive relationship with a girl who liked horses. i noticed her shoes were new, high heels tiger print. i tried stuffing a memory of my parents back in but it just dissolved between my fingers, 'fuck' i said despairingly.
in the end i knew i was gonna lose it all, well most of it and eventually they stopped bleeding and she knelt down and wiped the wound, she kissed my forehead and whispered in her soft voice, 'we will get you some new ones baby.'
i looked in her eyes and knew she was telling the truth, some kind of recognition, i had lived this life before, i know how it ends, i know how it begins, i looked at that tattoo and smiled.

downloading some news, media streams running, silver evening fix, the sudden stock collapse, shares crash, men in suits look nervous and watch their screens as numbers flicker across plasma glow. some one waves some paper and people turn their heads, then watch the screens. italian collapse, greek collapse, french collapse, portuguese collapse, american collapse, dominos falling, click clack, the disillusioned look of a million slaves. 

the moon will still rise, the stars shine bright, the wind still blows and sends a rustle through leaves. i drive back home along the beach road, the wind is mighty, rain begins to fall, elementals chasing their tails. wave movement plays havoc along the coast, the car a module playing some strange science fiction soundtrack electronica, i feel like closing my eyes and seeing where i end up, what year, but auto pilot takes me home, safe and sound.

ones made of acid one's alkaline
one's awake the other a dream
one is of vice one's a virtue
one is a lie the other is true


this one is plastic this one is wood
one says the other one's bad the other says the other ones good
this one is fun it smiles and laughs 
this one sheds tears for the future and past


one is a mirror the other reflection
one is true the other deception
one is a sinner the other a saint
one is in love the other ain't


this one is eastern the other west
one is in motion the other at rest
this one say's the other is is fake when the other makes the opposite claim
one is different the other the same

Transcript

TONY JONES, PRESENTER: Tonight's guest is Howard Jacobson.

He's an author, commentator and columnist with The Independent newspaper.

His most recent book, The Finkler Question, won the Man Booker Prize.

Well in recent days he's involved himself in the fierce argument over the causes of the wave of rioting that swept across the UK last week.

That debate has so deeply divided Britain's political and intellectual elites that Howard Jacobson was moved to write that the "... impatient adversariality of those engaged in the argument actually mirrors the aggression of those who drive cars at whoever stands in their way".

Well he joins us now in our London studio.

Thanks for being there, Howard Jacobson.

HOWARD JACOBSON, AUTHOR & COMMENTATOR: My pleasure. How are you?

TONY JONES: I'm very well. Tell us what you were getting at there.

HOWARD JACOBSON: Well, I think it's very interesting that if you read about what's being going on in the streets, that even those people who are most moralistic about the violence on the streets, about the hoodlum behaviour - and no-one calls it anything else - are themselves almost hoodlums in words.

People are killing one another - I mean, this has been - verbally, in language. This has been going on a long time over here and probably over there too on the internet. I mean, anybody who looks at the internet will have noticed how much more violent language has become. You don't disagree with somebody now, you vilify them, you kill with language.

And of late it's got even worse over this particular issue, so it's very strange to have grown-up politicians and academics trying to put their mind to the violence of the streets and mirroring it in the violence of their own - the intemperateness of their own disagreements with one another.

TONY JONES: Has this really changed over this issue, and if so, what's changed it? Because, I mean, we don't have to think back too far in British history to remember equally passionate debates.

HOWARD JACOBSON: It's - I think - well, it's always dangerous to say that one's hit a new low, and I wouldn't want to say we have hit a new low. And you're quite right: this is - the UK is a country with, you know, a savage sense of humour, with sharp tongues. We actually pride ourselves on the savagery of our literature even.

But at this particular moment, when it would seem to be so important that we try and put our imaginations to work about what's going on, about what the lives of these people must have been for them to be doing this, which is not to say that we're forgiving anything.

We have to preface everything now by saying, "We're not forgiving it, we're not excusing it," and of course we're not. But at this particular moment you would have thought commentators would say, "Let's look at this very calmly and let's put to rest our own ideological differences," because our only differences are not only not going to solve this, they're probably contributory reasons anyway to why we're in this mess, and it's a mess.

TONY JONES: Well we'll get into the mess shortly, but we are seeing to some degree a similar debate being mirrored here in Australia about the riots. And there's a vehemence to that as well, as if the riots themselves have become tangible proof of one social theory or another.

I mean, if you see the cause in social inequity, you're a slave to leftist dogma; if you concentrate on welfare dependency, moral disintegration, you're a hide-bound conservative. I mean, it's - the same thing is happening here.

HOWARD JACOBSON: Yes. I mean, the mysterious thing - this makes me sound like Pollyanna or something - but the mysterious thing is that they won't at least choose this particular occasion to hold hands over it. You might both be right, guys; both parties might be right.

Ideologies never solve anything, but in the core, in the heart of a ideology will be some understanding of something. The problem is when the ideology is pursued to its ultimate extreme.

But if both sets of ideologies would just say, "We actually - a bit of you and a bit of me could make sense of this." This idea that you must - that liberalism must be excluded because liberalism is taking us - has made us go wrong in this, or that authoritarianism must be excluded because it's made us go wrong, is such folly. We actually need both. The two - each argument does not necessarily cancel out the other.

TONY JONES: Is it the nature of modern politics, or as you implied, is it something to do with the internet, the anonymity of blogging in some cases and online commentary, of Twitter and other social forms of media? I mean, do you sort of sense that that is all playing a role here?

HOWARD JACOBSON: Well I think it's playing a role. I mean, one shouldn't exaggerate the role it's played. I mean, I was horrified to discover for example that this was organised by a BlackBerry. I own a BlackBerry. I suddenly thought, "My God, I'm carrying about with me an incendiary device here." Not that I would have a clue how you talk to other people by BlackBerry.

So, these things are only - these things are as good as what you put on them. You know, we've had examples this year in Arab countries and so on in which the social media have helped people to get together in causes which we've decided, anyway, are good ones, and now that people have got together in causes which we've decided are bad ones, you can't blame them.

It's a messenger. But it's clearly a very dangerous messenger.

The sad thing is that meanwhile as we go on fighting, the problem won't go away. We actually don't know what's happened. This is what's fascinating about this.

We keep saying, "It's our comeuppance," but we don't know what's come up. We don't know what actually this is about, how far it's political, how far it's driven by poverty, how far it's about race. And yet you will hear some of these people who complain that they feel that they're being put upon by the police, be racist themselves and say it's all to do with Polish immigrants. Nobody knows what it's about.

The most fascinating part though to me - and I think here we are spotting something and we might get some unanimity - is the degree to which it's about consumerism. Someone called it shopping with violence. And it's been like that to watch that looting. And it's as though they are mirroring - it's like a morality tale.

These are the people who've been told by advertising and television and their magazines that they must have these objects. And it's as though they're saying, "OK, you've told us we must have these objects. These are the objects we must have. Look, these are the objects we keep on telling you which we can't afford, but, here, behold, these are the objects which we now have." If that's not a morality tale, I don't know what it is.

TONY JONES: Well, I mean, you do argue that we - and I presume by that you mean the wealthier parts of society - need to acknowledge in this our own darkness. I mean, what blame could possibly be laid at the feet of a calm, middle-class family sitting quietly at home?

HOWARD JACOBSON: Probably none, and you can't lay the blame either at - you know, at any individual banker who's decided he'd like to have a $9 million bonus this year. That's not how it works. That's not how - anyway, blame is not what I myself think we should be about.

But if we're seeking for an explanation and how an atmosphere is created, how a tone of society is created, then what looks like an absurdity - this banker can't be responsible for that boy stealing a pair of trainers - trainers, for good sake, they're so horrible.

But I have to tell you that living here in the last few years, I have felt the tone of this country has sunk to a new low. It's been - morally, it's been very ugly. We've had politicians with their expenses scandals, we've got the other story which alternates with the hoodlum story, which is the Murdoch and the relation to the police and the relation to our politicians. We've got that story going.

We've got banker's bonuses. We've got financial scavengers affecting the market. Just the general tone of society is not good.

And that doesn't mean - it doesn't matter whether any of these individual looters read the Financial Times or read The Economist and know what's going - that's not how things work.

Little by little, a sort of despondency or a gloom or a greed or an ugliness or a lowness of tone creeps into society, and then we are all affected by that.

TONY JONES: A lot of this appears to be, in the way you're looking at it, about the massive discrepancy in that society and in many others between the wealthiest and the poorest members of the society.

Well, The Economist, as you point out, is pleased to publish an annual rich list. Should they also publish a poor list, with the poorest individuals, the poorest communities? Is that what you're suggesting?

HOWARD JACOBSON: No, I think they shouldn't publish a rich list. I cringe whenever I see a rich list. And I don't just mean because I know I'm not on it. I just think what good does it do to society to know who these rich people are and how much money they've got?

What discontent does it, here and there and little by little, drip, drip, drip, what discontent does it create in the body politic, in the social fabric of a culture? How good is it to know that? How good is it to have television pushing wealth and fame based on absolutely nothing at these kids all the time?

It's interesting to me what it is that they wanted to loot. They wanted teles and they wanted trainers. They didn't - easy to be superior about it - they didn't raid bookshops. And people will say, "Well, there you are: that shows it's not about education," but it is partly about education.

That is what's so upsetting about the sight of those , and also so distressing about the violence, is just that sense of - you can see how dispossessed they are by what they want. Is that all they want?

You need a Dickens. I kept thinking of Dickens seeing those little boys staggering beneath those great, big flat screen television - who needs a 91-inch flat screen television? They could barely carry it. But there they were.

And it reminds me of the beginning of a Dickens novel. That kind of picture of people doing things that's absolutely - they don't know what to do with themselves. They don't know what they want. They're kind of - they're out of it.

But all they know is that these seem to be the desirable objects in our society. And who's given them that idea? They're not born with it.

TONY JONES: Let's - so we don't get taken out and stoned by the advocates of the other side of the argument, let's look at something else that you're quite clear about. And that is that the idea of liberalism lies in ruins. Tell us why you say that?

HOWARD JACOBSON: Well, I mean, I say that because having made my attack on everything else, I want to make it clear that that doesn't mean - to attack where conservatism has taken us does not mean you have to end up on the left. You can reject rightism without accepting leftism. Reject the lot or accept the lot. You don't have to buy one or the other.

But the liberalism that I am complaining of is the thing that we all know, really, that's going on in schools.

We run frightened of children. We're a society that runs terrified of children. Parents are terrified of children, school teachers are terrified of children. You see, some of these kids will say, "If you lay a hand on me - if you lay a hand on me," they say it to their parents, "I'll call the police."

There is this - children - even the roughest of these kids are being - have imbibed a message of their human rights, their right not to be attacked, their right to be - to have respect. They have a sense of their entitlement.

I'm not going to buy the rights without obligations things that Cameron is going on - what obligation do they have to a society that gives them nothing? Just about none.

But the one thing that they do seem to have from terrible parenting, from a society that is frightened of making a judgment about them. They go to school and they don't learn anything.

One of the reasons among many that they don't learn anything - and one of the reasons is that the schools aren't very good and they're underfunded and the rest of it - but also because we have been frightened - liberalism has been frightened over the last 30, 40 years to actually say these are things that you should know.

And I don't just mean right from wrong; just knowledge. This is knowledge you should possess. And kids now feel empowered to say, "Well who are you to tell us what we should know?" And the answer to that is, "We teach you." That's the answer. "We teach you. "You sit down, you shut up and you listen."

And once upon a time it didn't work for everybody, but a strong teacher with confidence as to what he was doing and why he was doing and what he wanted to pass on to pupils didn't turn them into little automata, it actually taught kids confidence.

And one of the things we see now with these - the youth which has been empowered, if you like, to believe in itself and to believe in its own rights, at the same time as it actually has nothing, is that they've got no language. I mean, the gibberish that was ...

TONY JONES: Let me interrupt you on that point to bring you to one of the interesting points - one of the many interesting points you make. The "idiot patois" of these groups as you describe it, is welcomed as - by liberalism as a rebellion against conformity. I mean, are you including in this gangster rap, the sort of things which are so popular among middle class kids as well, by the way?

HOWARD JACOBSON: Yes, I am. Well it shouldn't be. I mean, it's ugly, it's brutalising, it's inarticulate, it's rhythmically monotonous, there's nothing to admire about it at all.

Someone has just got into trouble - the historian David Starkey had just got into terrible trouble over here for saying something which was a bit clumsy in the way he put it, but really he was just trying to get to the bottom of this gangster rap. And he was immediately called a racist.

He made the mistake of invoking Enoch Powell. That's not a good idea. He made the mistake of saying this has been imported from Jamaica, which also isn't a good idea.

But it's impossible now to have a conversation about what that language means. About - David Starkey talked about the fact that white kids are imitating black kids. It's become desirable to sound like black kids on the street. This was called racism.

It wasn't called racism when Ali G had a comedy sketch about it. And Ali G had, you know, every white kid in Staines, or wherever that was happening, wanting to be a black kid. It wasn't racism when Norman Mailer wrote about 50 years ago about white men wanting to be black men. But you can't even have this conversation now. It's a protected area.

TONY JONES: So where did the - so explain to us where the backlash to Starkey came from then?

HOWARD JACOBSON: He said it on Newsnight. He said it on, you know, a program - an English equivalent to yours, I would imagine.

And he said it in an argument with other people, and he was very ill-advised in his choice of language and his - presumably you have David Starkey's history programs over there. His arrogance led him into thinking that he could defeat anybody in an argument, and he was actually beaten up.

It was almost like a mirror image of what was going on in the streets. He was beaten up. And he looked at the end of it a sad, old, rightist man that shouldn't have been involving himself in this subject matter. He was dressed wrong. His accent was wrong and he was saying the wrong things.

But what struck me was the speed with which he was pounced upon for daring to go into an area which we should look at. There can't be any no-go areas in this conversation.

TONY JONES: OK. Well, we're nearly out of time, so I just want to sort of wrap up with some of your thoughts. Because you argue further that liberals don't understand the necessary role that illiberal-ism - illiberalism, I should say - plays in governing society, guidelines, example, authority boundaries.

I mean, doesn't this logically mean that David Cameron is actually on the right path and that the country will actually have to brace itself for an illiberal backlash after this cultural binge, as you call it?

HOWARD JACOBSON: Well it's been pointed out to me that my use of the world illiberal there was a touch rhetorical. I mean, I liked it: liberal/illiberal. And that in fact liberalism contains - a properly informed liberalism contains the possibility of a belief in authority and discipline and the rest of it.

But I don't say that everything that Cameron is saying makes nonsense. I say - is nonsense. I say that much that Cameron is saying it right. I say much that Ed Miliband in the Labour Party is saying is right.

But we will get nowhere if they simply front up against one another and insist that the other is wrong. To a degree, they are both wrong and to a degree they are both right.

TONY JONES: Do you think we'll ever - finally, do you think we'll ever see a single unified theory of why this happened?

HOWARD JACOBSON: No, because there can't be one and I don't want one either because that will be another ideology, a third ideology, which would be - there cannot be one single unified theory of what's happened.

We don't know what's happened. We will never know what's happened because it's happened to individuals, it's happened to several thousand individuals, and each one will have his own, if not an agenda, his own psychological reasoning for doing what he's doing, even if the individual person knows nothing about it.

That doesn't mean it will defy explanation, but it will be a very complex explanation indeed.

TONY JONES: Well good luck trying to deal with it in that case. Howard Jacobson, we thank you very much for coming to join us on Lateline.

HOWARD JACOBSON: Thank you. My pleasure.

i recently discovered blogger has a 'stat' button where you can see the people who follow you, and much to my surprise there was a 'captain mission' there. well i clicked on the link wondering if my own blog would turn up and instead another captain mission blog appeared. the author has used a hybrid of my work and made a sort of arabic version of myself, i wish i could read it but i don't speak the language. i can make out some similarities and parts of my own work but mostly it's illegible to me although the whole blog has a dream narrative and specifically dream sharing idea behind it. 
as i looked at his profile i could see that he had a link to my blog at least, which when i thought about it felt as though all things being equal, balanced out. i mean, who owns what, i don't really own the ideas i write about any more than anyone else, they are just ideas from the holographic universe, any one can down load them, but wow, i'd like to know more about this strange double i have. it could be very interesting.
http://www.blogger.com/profile/08337861068323974613

if you take everything with a pinch of salt you may find yourself with a heart condition. if a stitch in time saves nine, does two stitches save eighteen? and what are they talking about.
if a rolling stone gathers no moss can moss gather one a rolling stone? if to many cooks spoil the broth why do many hands make light work, and will the result be edible? 
common sense never worked for me, i like uncommon wisdom. i don't understand the need to know the details just the intention, the big picture, details are for satanists or those with to much time on their hips.

flicker, flicker, flicker, wham! flicker flicker flicker, wham!
in between the frames of the movie i could make out the anomaly, it must have registered on an unconscious level and instinct made me notice it. i grabbed the remote and hit rewind. frame by frame until i froze the first one. then the second, then following the sequence saw the scene hidden through the movie. it was wagnerian in scale, the fallen angels, brought to their knees by sound, a woman singing.
it took a while, my friend mike who is an editor assisted me, we spliced the sequence onto another disc, and then extracted the sound track from each frame over the hidden narrative.
it took five hours. mike was a perfectionist and although i didn't mind a rough edit he wanted to get it right. eventually we sat back in his studio, in front of the big screen and pressed play.
the song was old, some sort of spiritual gospel thing, scratchy and worn, but rich and sung beautifully. we watched in silence as the angels fell to the floor covering their ears and crying, and dying. it was the strangest thing. in the background was a golden archway, a portal that began to glow and throb as light began to pour out from it, and slowly as we neared the last few frames the light turned the whole frame white. we were blinded and turned away and then nothing. mike looked slightly stunned, 'it's very professionally done. they've embedded this subliminally into the main feature and most people would never know.'
'but they would pick up on it, at some level, right?'
'you did but i'm not sure if many would, it's not exactly obvious.'
'what does it mean?'
'it could be anything, maybe a message.'
we played it again and wrote the words down.

flash out the search light, dark is the way,



some weary wand'rer is going astray,


many temptations lurk now at his side,


many the perils that in his path hide.




flash out the search light, brighten the way,


follow the souls that in darkened paths stray,


search in the highways, search in the byways,


tell them that jesus bids them come home.




flash out the search light, bright let it shine,


bearing the message of mercy divine,


christ the Redeemer who seeketh for thee,


offers a pardon so full and so free.




light up the darkness, scatter the night,


there is a brother who longs for the light,


now he is faltering, do not delay,


flash out the search light and brighten the way.

it has been many moons since i saw the high priestess although i always text at 11:11 just to let her know i think of her, but she very rarely responds, but this morning she asked to meet me for coffee which i do, and i hear her stories of men, dramas and her work and journey amongst the vine.
i'm tired, the day looms ahead, i need a new book to read, i need a hair cut and shave, i need to clean my teeth and close my eyes for a long time but there's no time. i find five dollars and go buy some toothpaste.
pan follows loyally, he attracts a lot of attention, far more than i ever do, he has many admirers and he soaks up love like a royal. his head tilts upwards and to the side slightly, he looks magnificent, finding a spot in the sunlight. i catch a glimpse of myself, run down, jaded and slouching towards babylon. some one wants to speak to me but i can't talk back, the words won't come, i have no small talk, just some murmur escapes my lips and i shuffle off, my head in the past, remembering that time, the one i have not told you about, the one when i was a normal member of society, a civilian, a social worker.
was that me?
did all that happen to me, i ask myself, it feels so distant and so extreme.
you always were an extreme kinda guy mission, it's true but that was as edgy as it gets,
what do you call an experience like that?
evil maybe.
i don't believe in evil, i remind myself, knowing i am denying experience.
i shake off the ghost. one day i'll tell you about that experience, one day soon but not yet.
the day seems to fade away, i need a book to read....

magick is of course as diverse as most spiritual systems, it's rich and complex and consists of various skools just like the mystical ones, there are many pathways into the magickal world and to work against nature is known as sorcery, sometimes known as the left hand path, but from the chaos magick perspective, it's just magick as magick has no duality therefore left or right, black or white it makes no difference to the magickian. however my own personal veiw is to use magick in harmony with nature and what i define as the intelligence within it, or god or the goddess. my perspective has been shaped and formed by my experience with plant intelligences and also with my practice within the mystery skools for i no longer need a skool, or frame work to work within.
this makes me the fool, or in magickal terms a wizard for i am alone.

i cut the surface of the pool, diving in perfectly, my body hits the water and i see the colours shift, sound slowed down and muffled, i move swiftly, breathing is by abstraction until i can't, upwards i move taking that super  breath. i have reached the other side, i have come a long way, i have left it all behind and i have no one. i am alone in an empty pool.

after enlightenment, chop the wood carry the water.
that makes sense doesn't it?
i mean what are you going do once you crack it, you can't really spend the rest of your life thinking about it or the experience the meaning and the moment is lost. 
you really do have to go and chop the wood, and haul water, or in my case do my work.


my work is split into three areas, i assist four people with extreme mental health issues navigate their way through the complexity of modern life. these guys are adults and let me tell you they seem to know more about navigating their way through life than i do so the relationship i have with them is equal. we are just a bunch of guys trying to survive the system. i transport them around, cook and assist them with their social activities but when it comes down to essence i just create a safe environment. it's their thoughts and thinking that cause them to suffer and in many ways i have empathy for what else can one do but feel paranoia and depression in a world such as this. although i do think medication has assisted their quality of life, a simpler society would work effectively as well. anyway this is my job and i get paid for it but it doesn't feel like a job, i really see the four men as my friends and they are very intelligent and have their own personalities, often challenging me and making me think about my own limitations. we are equals. one thing i realised a long time ago is everyone is damaged in some ways, some have the ability to cover it up better than others.
the next work i do is my creative passions, music and writing, for which i am but a junior, still learning, i know very little about music, only what i like. there's no desire to understand it, i just use it as a platform for words and ideas.
then what's next is my own personal work, i guess one could define this as spiritual but in actual fact it's just about evolution and becoming a better person if you like, although 'better' makes it a relative process and the process is not really a relative one, it's not about competition or trying to accumulate something, it's about consciousness and then applying it. something that requires work for me. this area seems to spend a lot of time within spiritual and mental constructs but not physical ones, i swim once a week and walk my dog but i really need to do more physical work. so chop the wood and carry the water may be exactly what i require for the next few weeks, yoga and reviving the kung fu i learnt will be my wood and water.

finally finish 'the possessions of dr, forrest' by richard kelly, a contemporary gothic horror novel that ingeniously feels like a homage to the victorian gothic ethos, kelly creates a cast that are at once believable and easy to care about. then he creates a plot that stretches out for most of the book looking like it will be a conventional climax, and then when he has you in that womb like area of comfort he throws in the most cronenberg like tangent that completes the tale. brilliant book, i loved it, very disturbing though. 

drive cross city, watch the matrix with val, talking about octopus, i drink amazonian drink, it's purple and wonderful, olga comes and we go to dinner where i drink from a big coconut. they put an umbrella in it, i'm uncertain why people do that but it's lovely, i eat some vegetables then we go to a strange bar filled with poker machines, i hate poker machines and their energy, i don't like the inherent evil they emit, strange noises and colours, the dead looks on their symbiotic once human hosts. 
i drive home. i give the dog a bone. i potter around the darkness of mission control, i bang into a pile of books and they spill like a tower falling across the floor, a tarot deck being spread, i see a magickian and the fool, i see the universe and the star and i see the wheel off fortune. i grab a tangerine and sit in candlelight contemplating the next deep fix project and it's possibilities. 

i don't usually promote blogs but my commentator MEM has a magnificent selection of blogs and although i don't know him personally his work speaks for itself, you can find him here:
http://www.blogger.com/profile/06436376956719546332

another quite brilliant writer is sam who you can find here
http://sammayfair.blogspot.com/

i'd encourage investigation of the rich material here, lovely art from what i know is a lovely person.

fed on a diet of crap food and crap tv and crap ideas the english youth are unable to contain themselves from meltdown and the hysteria sweeps through the uk like a weird virus eating culture and anything else it can find, cutting out the middle man and robbing their next door neighbours plasma tv's and nike training shoes, robbing old ladies and killing poor old indians who are minding their little family business corner shops while the government is lording it up in tuscany. well this is the product of dumbed down society, i saw this coming when i was there. thankfully the old dunkirk spirit exists and under pressure people seem to club together and repair the damage, but the damage in england runs deeper than the surface. i saw it when i was there, you read my travels through the nightmare, i saw it in the dead eyes of zombie hordes, i saw it in their faces and called it a spiritual sickness, from years of stupid eu regulations and un political correctness, the minority subverting democracy, the rich hording the wealth, the poor being spoonfed hate and soap operatic entertainments from reality television, diluted with vodka and stupidity will rise up through the subconscious and i forgive them for they no not what they do, but this lack of consciousness is a terrible problem and difficult to heal, which is why the more extreme see it as cancerous and the demise of civilization. i speak to a few friends in london and they say, 'it's the complete breakdown of society.'
i'm sure that happened a long time ago when we started cutting down rainforests and being cruel to animals but you know how it is at the epoch of 2012, we all like to know when things start and end. things don't start really, it's just a growth pain, a little hurt before the good stuff comes, just keep hold of the things true, love your brother and sister, love yourself and trust your intuition, and don't fear nature for the universe knows exactly what it's doing and sooner or later we will all be going home, into peace.

magic is whatever you lack at that moment

magic is asking a favour of nature

magic is coming back from the living

these words came from steve kilbeys blog today. you can find that here: http://thetimebeing.com/ and the post is called memory styx, i'd recommend reading his blog every day because he's a fucking genius and one day people will study all his work at skool. 

these lines stopped me in my tracks when i read them cos they are spot on! 

listening to snuff music on the cans, headphones. it's many things coming from many places, i can define it but i won't. fear is the mind killer, love the liberator' is all you really need to know. my fave bits are the ooohhh ohhhh's on the last track and i love val's bits, and olga,tez,nevin and luis, these people are as much 'the deep fix' as myself and my friends, so tonights blog is dedicated to you. and i'm going play this song for ya to say thanks.

all beings in this world, moving and non-moving are born out of the union of knower of the field and field. he who knows is no longer born in this world no matter how he or she fares in this world.
to the single minded yogi i am always within reach, all is change except me, he who seeks to discard all mental constructions scales to the peak of yoga. 
of the secrets, i am silence, of the learned i am knowledge, of those who seek victory i am the tactics. to all i am equal, those who are devoted live in me and i them.

that which is nectar at the beginning and poison at the end is low nature, that which is poison at beginning and nectar at end high nature.

confine the mind to the heart.

fix the life force to the crown

this will bring you to a higher state.

some marvel at beholding it, some marvel at talking about it but those that do, do not know me completely.

where ever one finds a great soul trying to raise humanity know that he is born out of my splendour that i reside in him, where ever virtue prevails i manifest again and again.

i passed my advanced first aid today, i know what to do if you have an overdose, are bitten by a blue ringed octopus or have had an accident while fixing your time machine. 
i have the ability to wrap you in cotton and keep your limbs elevated, i can use a defibrillator and shout 'clear' in a very serious tone. 
i got some serious moves if your panicking or in shock, if you burnt your lips kissing some hot girl or you have wounded yourself in a war zone, i will assist your speedy recovery, because i am civic minded citizen mission.

well my old home towns on fire, the usa empire is falling, the eurozone is looking like the bozo zone, what ya gonna do?
here's what you do, put on 'snuff music' and play it while you smoke your fave plant medicine, and contemplate the strange events as things fall apart, what's really left?
enter the occult diary, start your own, invoke some light and illuminate ignorance, look at what's real and what is not, see the veil fall away and open up your heart to truth and light. intuition rules here, shed the ego, shed the skin, don't be afraid of anything, rejoice and love your self for taking it all so seriously and being part of this amazing journey, this life we have is so precious, and all the little petty things we cling to, envies, hates, jealousy and rages, attachments and possessions are nothing but fleeting, these don't define us becuase the only thing that really matters, the only thing that really counts for anything is the love you have. just like the beatles said, 'and in the end...'

i fell up, burning all my options until nothing was left, but that's an option itself, a trick option, just like no belief is really a belief, so i accepted my fate, all eight of them, i played my cards, the deadmans hand, i ate my surreal breakfast of spinach and rose petal with coffee made by a genius film director who was channeling bergman and a germanic expression, i felt the hand of fate, i was offered asparugus that was grown by whispering positive affirmation, it was cooked by love itself and it's energy absorbed in gratitude. i sat at davids last supper and saw his spirit there, the beauty and the beast, contrastingly a dark man on the inside,i related to his lure, the nostalgia felt real. there was love there, a very special thing, it was real. there was love there, it was good, it heals us all. and i saw his majesty and it was divine, it was uncompromisingly regal and i realised i would follow that glory to my last breath.
i watched open eyed at the magic theatre, and the first and last performance had begun, i listened to the nuance, swayed by the king and his magickal cat who was unique and from one of my favourite unread books, a story about a magickian who muddled his spells and was very absent minded but his cat was switched on and travelled through all dimensions and always made everything right. it had a happy ending and there was queen, from love street, she had wisdom and knows what to do...   and the foundation was solid and real and like, a cathedral. 

saturday started at 5am and ends at 3am sunday after the david neil show, i take the strange drive home from the rainy streets of dee why outwards bound and follow the beach home listening to the sound in my head, the fresh afterglow of what was a very special evening for me personally. window slightly open, the beautiful stars as the clouds begin to fade, some rich black octopi ink black void of space, a little red and blue reflection on the wet roads as a police street hassle seems to break out somewhere up ahead and yet very far away, but here in my head i am flying with the pleasure and satisfaction of just having experienced one of the most amazing evenings and i'm torn because i don't want to share it, i just want to keep it for myself and it's very personal.

but old captain mission needs to write it to and i am somewhat cursed with the writing affliction.

you spend your life in obsessions, or you don't.

i always felt ones towards certain books like paul austers 'moon palace' micheal moorcock's brilliant multiverse novels, william burroughs ethos of word virus and howard blooms brilliant understanding of the forces that drive us in his profound book 'the lucifer principle' and many other fringe science fiction writers i could list who played more with ideas, while the manifestation of these ideas was left to those practical folks, like engineers and builders. that's why i love writing, for the the idea. plus my romantic ideal of sitting on a balcony drinking coconut drinks with some exotic lady and being free to use my imagination and get paid for it by writing. obsession one.

then there were certain girls, french ones with that hot librarian look, the ones who can stimulate my mind and still be sexy and cool and romantic. obsession two.
obsession three is my predisposition towards mystery, the occult and some kind of hidden reality. 
and then twin obsessions certain bands and music which seems to have some significance to me. i always kept my standard high with music, because lots of bands created good music but only a few had the words to go with it. 
that's the thing, the million dollar catch with music and songwriters, you can write a song, many millions of songs out there, but can you tell a story or paint a picture with words that match the music. i could hear a beautiful piece of music and it would capture me and pull me into it's spell but if the lyrics were crap i would loose interest fast and resent the people that made it. there were some musicians i obsessed about because they had this duel gift, bowie, the velvets, some post punk bands but there was one song writer who was really setting the bar high and sometimes his music would move me into another world and that's the church and specifically steve who seemed to share some of my own obsessions although i'm sure the french librarian girl obsession was absent, he's probably not that shallow.
tonight i hear david neil play again, it's a special evening despite my confusion at having tickets for last nights central coast event and not tonights but they very kindly let me through. i'm escorted to the dressing room and steve hugs me and sam offers me a seat and riki is david ruffin and the hoffmans are beautiful and humble people who have a lovely gentle way and it's surreal for me and steve offers me half his dinner and i eat with the band while steve has his head buried in his laptop, and later i see he's working on editing a video. in the next few hours he films two more and edits them together ridiculously quickly. it's a real cool atmosphere in that room, a band getting ready to play a gig, i can see these people are all individuals but there's that energy that is like a jigsaw, they fit together and somehow create a complete image. rikki is david ruffin tonight, he's playing the temptations and telling me the sad and tragic death tale of this voice. rikki is cat like, he's like the wizards cat man, supremely and infinitely outside all space and time, he's music itself, like jazz, soul, psychedelia, just all music, in one unique life. and then onstage rikki plays the most amazingly switched on guitar, he takes the rich tones and tweaks them, sometimes the energy he creates is like a wall of sound, i can physically feel it, you can play with it, build things from it. that's how it was for me, at the back of the gig, listening and closing my eyes and feeling the sound. if you let it work it will, it will take you away. tonight i really felt the band, the sound and venue was spot on, and although the audience were mixed, some left finding it not to their liking, the ones that stayed really loved it and responded well although sedated in that northern beaches bourgeois way, but it was appreciative and i think like me listening, listening to the richness and songs. the set was perfect, i would not change anything about the set, we were a way into it before the first david neil tune but it seemed to work very well and i very much enjoyed the apocrypha songs. the opening 'neverness hoax is beautiful, 'limbo' takes you to the pits of human emptiness and despair, 'thought that i was over you' is just such a unifying tune and well they are all good, all fucking brilliant songs to be honest, and no matter how critical one could be, i found the set faultless although 'almost with you' didn't need to be there, however the audience loved it because it's a northern beaches classic rock song and i guess ties in with the collective memory.
anyway back in the dressing room steve unveils his video he has made, and they are very good, fragments from david neils life, insight into his darkness. and then steve is struck by some theatrical idea and has wild child and i in the corridor, acting out some tense drama, poor adrian, i think i may have scared him with my intensity a little. after the show i return to that room and see steve play me the finished film, it's excellent, a narrative rubric cube when you play all three videos.
now here's the thing, steve's a genius, there can be no doubt about that, but watching him work is something else. i dunno, i'm just some fan, i feel like i'm 20 years old again when i see steve, like an awkward teenager. i don't know how people feel when they are supposed to meet their favourite artist, i met a few famous celebs, but no one really impressed this much or influenced me personally the way steve's writing has so i always default to awed fan, but when you see him working it's like being inside the atomic structure of the big bang because the mans synapses are firing so fast and so on it, the room almost fills up with his brains electrical energy, colours fly our from his head, that's how it feels anyway. 
now i don't get out much, i don't socialise much at all and i've lost most of my social skills so i don't have the conformity of relating to people on most levels, i'm well aware of my freak status amongst people in my personal community, and my obsessions are not theirs, but when you spend your whole life really following an artist and creative muse you know is authentic and has delivered you something from a consuming end that speaks right to your spirit directly, you can't help but feel slightly awed. i never wanted to meet you because i was frightened of being disappointed but i am so grateful i have, it's true you saw me loose my mind totally, in ecstasy with the universe, the most profound event that had ever happened to me, my rebirth was shared with you, i have strange memory vagueness about the environment, who was there, what was said, although the fundamental experience was something i will never forget, the internal process was unforgettable, but i recall you being there and sharing that with me and then tonight steve shared half his meal with me.
yeah i know it's insignificant but i'm an awestruck fan remember 
so for me it's like something i won't forget ever, it's gonna be one of those things i pass on to my grandchildren and they will look at me as say,'wow' becuase by then everyone will see what i see now.  
david neil is a brilliant band, as good as the church, rich and diverse, quality over quantity and the musicianship is equally as good as anything i have seen the church do, the songs are magnificent, yes they grow after repeated listening, live it's excellent, and the videos are equally excellent but it confirms something for me, that artists like steve and ricki are societies and therefore cultures assets. yet they are undervalued and under appreciated. give me the genius poet, give me the raving visionary, give me the mage and the fool, give me something other than meaningless drivel spewed forth for profit and greed and attached to the worst kind of inauthenticity human beings can dream up. because i am dying out here, alienated and saddened by humanity and it's fabricated attempt to built something on such a weak foundation of ideas. the stock market blah! 
well im raving but i know i make sense, i know underneath all the words when it comes down to it you know what im driving at. 


steve talking on a radio show about plan b.


he said to marty 'what are you gonna do if we don't make it, what do you have to fall back on.'
marty replies, 'there is nothing else. no plan b.'


these are the people who risked everything for art. 
value it!

connie willis, 'passages' a great soft book tackling the confronting subject off death, from the scientific perspective, from the spiritualist perspective and from a romantic one, it touched me deeply, as her charachters are wonderful people, really great investments, for it's a big story and thick book, and you follow their stories, really feeling something for their plight. i loved the ideas in the book, specifically the idea that the NDE (near death experience) is the brains, SOS message, firing out through each synaptic nerve and connection in sensory dimensions familiar metaphors, in this specific story the titanic as it strikes the iceberg, yeah it's an emotional read and packed with humour and compassion. what a great writer!

immersed in moon power, under the influence, female glow, radiant and luminous, reflected light, we meditated near the beach and looked at that watery pathway, i danced in circles around you, prancing like a pan, i watched you spin slowly in hypnotic trance, i summoned up a portal and we leapt through holding hands. into the moon soft landing, across the myth of time, the skin fell from our face and we were born again naked and free, and married to her fullness. and in that glow she bestowed us powers and abilities, some visionary gifts and we knelt before her as equals, surrendering to her majesty, the way of the mystic.
we made love and dedicated our heart to the silver star and lay there in one another's arms while she received from us our sacraments, our breaths slowed, and i we smiled and we gazed into each others eyes, with the romantic feast still spread and saw la lune.