all over the ants nest people getting human blues, kidnappers sign their own slow death warrant, some terror group decide to become a performance art group and get government funding to invade a small country and steal some resources, they call it artwar and you can donate by paypal, a children's hospital get's closed down for dealing banned ammunition and sophisticated explosive devices disguised as stuffed animals, supermarkets sell human meat in cans called baked beings, the great capitalist experience turns organs into commodities, you can buy or sell organs on e bay, some smart people realised the zombie apocalypse happened in the eighties. 
experimental spirituality, trans-humanity crashes into alien technology, some wayward teen has to dramatically exit and decides to take out half his skool, war zones in the high street, low flying jet slams into some city skyscraper sending a trail of smoke into the lungs of the glamorous models in their designer evening wear, ruining their cat skin shoes and voodoo hairdo's. the battle for your mind, the war against truth, the conflict of the paradox, the arguments of contradiction, yeah the fabulous circus is just another theatre of absurd, business as usual.
i was freelancing back in those days, working cases for high bidders, mostly rich women nervous about cheating husbands and their mistresses. dirty work, but everyone's dirty if you look close enough. i was looking under the microscope, things were ugly. it was directly proportional to the population, more people more ugliness, i needed to get out, get out fast. 
my saving plan was based around a small island outside the rim, trees, a beach, some clean water, the generic getaway plan was just around the next corner, a few more credits, an inch away, maybe one more case.

the old cafe was my office, i didn't even have a phone, clients who needed me knew how to find me, that was just the way i worked it. no phone no digital tail, no trail no clowns from the government chasing me, no clowns from the government means less stress more freedom and zero accountability. that's the space i like to live in.
i was leafing through a newspaper, same old stuff, i saw global conflicts, corruption and human degradation, mostly just opinion pieces and a tv guide. i flicked through the guide wondering what they show to people these days, mostly stuff i'd never heard of, reality shows, shows where you compete to start a new religion, infiltration shows, where individuals ingraine themselves close to a stranger, grooming and becoming friends, finding out all their personal secrets and then exposing them, there were tv shows where people assassinate victims, and the best assignation becomes a professional, there were shows based around relationship damage, where each individual competed against their partner to see who could fuck up the others life better. on it went, reality tv.
the old lady came over and handed me a latte, she threw an envelope at me, 'some lady left this for you.'
i threw the paper down and looked at the envelope, white, plain, no markings, not even my name. i opened it, pulling out a single square of paper.

my first thought was a phone number, but then it dawned on me i was holding a magic square. 15, what the hell, magic squares, who used magic squares nowadays, these types of sigils were prehistoric.

the old lady came at me with another coffee, she noticed the square and picked it up, she looked at it and smiled, 'ahh lo shu, i know this, it's lo shu.'

'loo shoe,' what the hell's loo shoe.'

'not loo shoe, lo shu captain, chinese. chinese square, gives power over water.'

she smiled at me as though i was a dumb beast, i must have looked like one as i had no idea what she meant. she continues, 'originally gift from turtle to emperor, numbers dots on shell shell. very famous folk story in old days.'

the dumb look remained, she knew it was a loosing battle, 'keep safe, protection from water, good sign.'

'madam wu, who left this for me?'

'tall lady, nice shoes, hat, fur coat.'
'when was she here?'
'yesterday, she chinese lady, we speak chinese, she like my soup.'
i flicked through some metal processes, the easiest solution was the 15, i figured it would equate to 3pm, a time to meet the chinese lady. that gave me nearly two hours.
i smoked some weed and ordered some food, watched the crowds walk by.
she was on time, walked into the cafe dressed in some sort of oriental outfit, looked glamourous and elegant, she was young, wealthy, i could tell by the fact she was wearing a thing string of huge pearls around her neck, plus the waiting limo outside had a chauffeur sitting patiently.
'captain mission, thank you for meeting me,' she sits down. i nod to mrs. whu, she potters off into the back room.
'it would have been easier to just write the time down, what's with the square?'
she looks at me intently, 'i need to be certain your reputation is accurate, i require your services.'
'oh so it was a test.'
'yes, a test, a challenge.'
wu comes out with some fresh tea and places a quaint cup and saucer down for the woman, then she bows and leaves us. i pour, 'okay well i assume i passed, let's talk.'
my name is mrs lee, my father is missing, he is the director of dragon pharmaceuticals. i received note from kidnappers, they want 50 million credits. they also sent me his finger, with his wedding ring. these people have given me one week, if i go to police they ask questions. so i am here.'
'you want me to get him back?'
'no, i want you to be my liaison, deliver a message to the kidnappers.'
'i see. you want me to take the 50 million to them and bring your father back.'
'no, i don't want my father back. i need you to go and tell them i am not interested in the return of my father. then kill them.'
'err i don't do assassinations ms lee.'
'well deliver the message, it's of no consequence if they live or die.'
'ms lee, what about your father?'
'he's old, outlived his peers, his wife and most of his friends. the company is mine, i don't see why i should give his kidnappers money. they are not very smart, they should have kidnapped me.'
'it's all about investments with you people isn't it.'
'yes, i'm willing to invest 50 thousand credits in your capacity to get the job done.'
i nodded, 50 thousand credits would get me over the line, it's a cruel world.
she reaches into her bag and pulls out a small m stick, everything you need to know is on this. she sips her tea and sighs, 'i have so much to do, my hair, my nails and a session with my transactional therapist, there are not enough hours in the day.'

when she leaves i wonder what its like to be the heiress of a massive industry, to have so much money you can do almost anything including allow your family members to die, it's inversely proportional to any sense of decency i thought. that was the real resource in the world, the one falling commodity people should invest in. but whatever evil energy lurks in the world at the moment crushes the decent qualities, its dog eat god in this hell of a city.

the memory stick shows a map, with a cross on the meeting place and the time, midnight. i'm driving over there now in a borrowed car, my display shows me the best route, the traffic conditions and a soft female voice whispers the directions, on the screen i swipe along to the photograph of the finger, the ring is beautiful, it's in strange conflict with the disembodied finger. 

i pull up outside a dark warehouse, it's in the middle of the waste district, the stink is awful, rotting fish, the sound of water running, a few lights on the river but otherwise it's desolate and empty. i wander up to the side door and ring the bell as instructed. 
the door stays shut but an envelope slides out from under it. 
i pick it up and take it back to the car. 
it contains a key and a typed address, a hotel room, in the city. 
it's started raining, it's raining and cold, i adjust the heating and program the directions into the cars auto drive. i request some music, some music plays, 'guilt trip.' 
the music starts, the sound system is excellent. eta 2 hours, i sit back and close my eyes.
the hotel is high end, only the super elite could afford to stay here, it's the type of place a royal family would stay, high ceilings, marble, servants to catch your ash and wipe the sweat from your brow, the chandelier was worth more than most streets in the city.
i went over to the lift and a woman in a red uniform asked me what floor i required, 'penthouse suite seven.'
we rise up, i don't know how high but the journey lasts several minites, there are no stops along the way, just a fluid ascension until a gentle 'ping' announces our arrival. the doors slide open and i step into a door way, opposite a beautiful ornate door. 
i slide the key in, it's a swipe key, the panel lights up and the door opens.
gagged and bound in a chair sits an old man, he's dressed in a black suit and at his neck is a samurai sword. the wielder of the sword, invites me in.
'you have the credit.'
'no. she won't pay.'
the swordsman throws down the sword, he unties the old man. he makes an adjustment to his tie, i notice the hand missing a finger. the old man mr lee has a face that looks like crushed paper, his skin is dark, his eyes indicate the fire of intelligence. i'd done my homework, he was a smart guy, building up his drug empire by the book, everything about him was legit, except for the fact he dealt in pharmaceuticals and had a legit trail, those two just cancel one another out, my instincts were screaming something was not quite right, their trail was covered up to well, no blemishes. 
'mr.lee, your daughter refused to pay the ransom, i am sorry.'
a thin smile breaks out across his face, 'yes i trained her well, she must be congratulated.'
he stands up and smiles at his assailant, 'dr. jones, let's break out the henry the fifth. three glasses.'
'yes sir,' the dr says as he wanders over to the bar.
'you will enjoy this captain mission, it's heratige cognac, very special.'
'i don't drink. if you don't mind i rather smoke a joint.'
'whatever you like, i must thank you for acting on my daughters behalf.'
'she is paying me quite a lot of money.'
'yes my money, but she did do the correct thing and passed my test.'
'test?'
'yes i am not going to let my only daughter take over my company unless she can run it ruthlessly, so i devised a ruthless test, and as you can see, she passed with flying colours.'
my brain throws out one single thought, i should have charged more, double even. then i wonder if that's a morally correct response.
'well i'm glad everyone is happy but it must have been difficult loosing the finger.'
'dr. lee is a very skilled surgeon, he made the procedure painless, as i am sure he will extent the courtesy to you mr. mission.'
'i take it i won't be paid?'
'really mr. mission, have a last drink before dr. lee throws you in the river.'
'i don't drink.
the doctor smiles he picks up his sword. 

down at the river the dr walks me into a small power boat, he has my hands tied behind my back. we sit opposite one another, he starts talking.
'i will give you these pills, they will make everything painless, drowning will be peaceful. you wont even notice. the river will take you out to sea, your body will be washed up in a week or so but it won't be complete, the sea creatures will have dealt with most of the flesh, but i must say, you will be the best dressed corpse. now start taking the pills.'
he throws me the bottle, but i can't catch them, my hands are behind my back tied. 
realising his mistake he leans in to pick them up and i bring my knee into his face. 
the skirmish lasts seconds, he's weak and overpowering him should be childs play, however the motion of the boat is a leveller, he is screaming and comes at me, we both plunge into the water.
it's cold, my brain seems to kick start itself, fear and panic morph into a survival instinct, it's hard to know which way is up, the currents move me, i feel my lungs holding on, did i get a good gulp of oxygen before i get swallowed by the toxic flood, how long will it last, a few seconds and i'll be gone. i attempt to get my hands free but i can't, the binding is far to tight, i kick away desperately, one final burst of energy, it feels better to act than do nothing, it feels like the right thing to do. a shadow moves past me, it's the doctor, he's going in the opposite direction, swimming with his arms free, swimming where. one of us will make it, i can feel my lungs bursting now, my body ache.

the taste of blood, i've lost a tooth, my face feels numb, i open my eyes, i'm onshore, washed up, it's a miracle, i pull myself up, it's still night. i walk towards the lights.
when morning comes i'm outside the coffee shop, madam wu opens up and let's me inside. i sit down while she makes some coffee, emptying my pockets, everything soaking wet and stinking of the polluted river.
i pull out the magic square, lo shu, power over water.
'yellow magic saved my skin ms wu.'
'i'm making you a broth, i get you a blanket.'
i contemplate my options, retirement is overdue, i just need one more case.

  

  

my reptiles greet me, they run towards me as i open my front door, i hand out the banana , everyone gets a piece. i watch them scurry to their spots dragging a mouthful of banana, which they eat surprisingly fast and then spend the rest of the day basking in the sun.
sounds like a good plan, see animals are our teachers, don't underestimate or eat them.

the process of magickal thought should lead to the eradication of all parasitic energies, including the enlightenment of enlightenment, that to must be discarded for practical purposes lest it will lead to tears.

egoless, the magickian can start to subvert reality towards his or her inclination. we are not talking about absurdities here, this universe conforms to a handful of laws. i allude to probability. repeatable results act as a litmus test.

true will will always be constructive in the mind of a smart magickian, which is why the process of mysticism is so very valued, a mistake that many practitioners make. will must conform to the will of the universe, which in my own experience is based upon love, imagination, art and play.

I WOULDN'T KNOW - KILBEY and KENNEDY

here's a taste from k and k's next cd release, it's magnificent, i want it to go on for ever, a perfect combination of music and words, that transcend. a song should take you out from your body and this one does, it's perfect and i really love the video that goes with it.

BOWIE (from outside outtakes)

http://youtu.be/AOiogRepP3Y


i'd really like to hear the 'outside' cd as a complete work with the songs playing out the way bowie wanted them instead of virgin, his new label, demanding a new recording. yes that's correct, they refused bowie the release. unbelievable! 
some of it's out there, on bootlegs but not the complete outside as bowie and eno conceived it.

the government today proved itself as an inept combination of bubbling fools desperate for power and completely removed from the mood of the electorate and the people it is supposed to represent. the vote of no confidence called by the opposition is exactly what the public require, believe me labour will be wiped out, the greens will be demolished for decades after the fiasco of their dumb attempts to gag media, and then today the leadership challenge that didn't happen.
australia is not europe and as much as these fools in government want to align us with european political trends they are not convincing the public who have become skeptical of the orwellian motives, political correctness gone mad, government media control, the tax on carbon dioxide, the massive effects these things have on the cost of living, the wasted schemes and stupid big government ideas of the left have left us in a huge debt that will take years to get out of and it's trashed the country with it's divisive public relations, calling it's detractors misogynist, the double standards of the current prime minister is something even it's supporters, hard core labour voters have turned away from. 
it appears the only people who support the government are the abc commentators who host their current affairs shows and write on their web sites, the usual brain dead commentary.
the letter writers in the sydney morning herald are just as narrow minded, supporting the government as it destroys australia because they fear tony abbot so much.
yet the man they fear is a completely different beast from the labour people, and the greens, yeah he's old fashioned in his values but at least he has some principle. he's a volunteer surf life guard and turns up every sunday for his duty, yet they ridicule him for wearing budgie smugglers, well perhaps when they are drowning or caught in a rip they may reconsider his costume. he's a man who has been a volunteer bush fire man for the last 10 years, and the labour party say it's just a media stunt. 
yeah the man labour and the greens hate has done more for aboriginal communities than all of them put together, not by throwing cash at the problem but by living with them and experiencing the culture from the inside. 
the left wing are so brainwashed and blind they can't see the woods for the trees, the people want an election, not a circus, we want a government that leads with a clear vision, not a harebrained reform based on the remnants of communism.

gazing across the bushland, the australian wild, animals abound, life just breaths here, some vital expression that makes this planet so beautiful. my centre is vital, i generate the impulse of dna diversity, my consciousness knows no bounds, nothing, time or space are figments, all life is one expression, all creation is one creation, it's the fractal equation. 

at a base level the survival impulse must come first, the base charkra initially has it's own will, it must be met by the heart, the solar plexus turns energy into matter, intention must be pure, the blue for communication, find the medium for expression, the one that works for your spirit, the third eye will develop as consciousness expands and the nature of reality is revealed, eventually the crown activates and opens and the illusion of duality is shattered. 

this is the quantum world, we have entered quantum time, the observer and the observed are the same thing, one cannot be perceived without the other, both are maya, everything is permitted nothing is true. 

years ago i read david mitchell's ghostwritten wich i think is one of the best novels ever written, then i read cloud atlas, and that was even better. 
there's a whole group of literature that i've enjoyed over the years that is probably impossible to translate into film, it doesn't often work. croninberg did it with cosmopolis and naked lunch, sam mendes did it with the english patient, peter jackson with tolkien and then the wachowski's come along with their adaptation of cloud atlas.
this is an incredible film, intelligently transposed for film, its long, just under three hours but it's brilliant and despite the brutality in parts, despite the tragic story lines, it's incredibly validating of the human spirit and the only film i've seen in a long long time that one exits joyously. 
it's a complex story with complex themes but so close to the nature of human experience and why we suffer towards liberation, i wanted to just hug everyone in the world.

the waterboys live in germany

procrastinating i sip away to the dreams of some nebulas dimension, they swallow up my thoughts of trail and retribution. the laws of physics don't quite work the way they usually do, slight discrepancy in thought and expression, it's the penumbra of uncertainty flooding through every door you open and behind every one you close.
i watched a film about men in hats who move between doorways, jumping into this world outta that world, adjusting things, like an angelic bureaucracy, 'you think you have free will but it's just an illusion of free will' one character says.
but even i don't care, i just want some soft oblivion today, in this strange sleep where things add up to nothing.

my brother martin visits me, it's just for a day, he's been travelling through india, researching my family who where shipwrecked there many generations ago after fleeing from the destruction of the temple in jerusalem (the second one) i guess they were not good sailors, i wonder where they were going?
anyways the survivors were a bunch of my descendants and went on to become some kinda jewish hindu hybrid. martin tells tales of fakirs, mystics and healers, he talks about our great great grandfather being a composer of kirtan, all these things resonate with me, for many years i have written about this in my blog, intuition connected me to the temple of solomon, healing close to my heart as a social worker and music manifested itself late in life with 'snuff music' being something of a devotional piece ultimately climaxing in the mantra 'om sri jaya rama om' which would translate as 'liberation for the true self'
all these unusual elements lurking embedded in my own dna now confirmed by my lineage, i think even my brother was shocked. 
i can't concern myself with past events, history and reflection, these are ripples and one must remained unattached to them as they wash over, but i am human and i found a certain validation in his message. 

anamnesis

the stars are out - BOWIE

loving the new bowie cd, the next day from it's opening bars of the familiar 'repitition' style guitars in 'the next day' to the wonderfully commercial 'boss of me' which a guardian reviewer panned for being to american in its content. the fact the guardian panned it on ideological grounds makes the album that much more better, for whatever integrity the guardian used to have it lost with me in the early eighties when it decided to hand over a whistleblower sarah tisdall to the government, yeah real integrity from the green socialist newspapers.

the album is rather brilliant, it's a slow burner with at least 30% being below what one expects from bowie. i really feel as if a trusted friend should have told him to leave out 4 tracks and keep the standard high and quantity less. but having said that the four tracks i would leave off are the ones that most people seem to be raving about.  
there's some interesting themes, school massacres explored in the wonderfully upbeat pop of 'valentines day' the stupidity of war in 'i rather be high' which has a wonderful chorus and of course the ideas of mortality, memory and fame (the stars are out) which i think has a very good short film to accompany it.  

the next day is a great comeback, very rich in lyric and production, very accessible for a new generation of fans and us old ones who always knew when bowie said 'retirement' he never meant permanent.

when i received the transmissions i firstly denied all knowledge and rejected them, no it's not my responsibility, it's just an hallucination, it's a mild psychotic breakdown man, it's stress related, it's fucking to many drugs, years of shamanics sending me nuts, it's old age creeping in, it's this it's that, but finally the voices began to boom with authority, and denial became acceptance and a reluctant devotion.
i say reluctant as a small part of my brain just was a fighter, it rejected and kicked, it screamed and howled and attempted to defiance, it's my inner deconstructionist.
but when the voice of god booms in-between your ears and fills your heart it's only a matter of time before you start to listen.
so i started slowley, working on my body, building the perfect vessel, doing my swimming, yoga, mental exercises, i transmuted my dna sharing the qualities of all lifeforms in this duality, invoking them inside my genetic code, and thus my ark contained all life, and thus when it came to the flooding my codes knew how to survive and what to do, for they were in tne with the natural ebbs and flows, the strange voice of god as it chattered away with it's plan i could not understand. eventually i realised automatic writing, a little knowledge of dr. dee, some variant of the enochian language, a little snippet from the apocrypha, oh yes, i learnt to listen through half closed eyes. 
'don't you see,' i would mutter to my wife, as i fed the unicorns, 'don't you understand, that we are the ark, our dna is life, that we must voyage as our experience floods,' i droned.
she looked blank and sympathetic at the same time, so i carried on, hoping one day she would get it.

yes we are, yes we can, yes yes yes, closer to the edge, yes yes yes, topographical oceanic yes yes yes i will, yes we will relayer your message, yes we can, yes we're going for the one, why, because we can.
thought forms focal point the house near the river, the bush shack dream abode by the beach, wild animals roaming around on that dead end street, the cool de sack, the cool oceanic breeze carrying news from nowhere, old nature knows no bounds, it just flows from now to now, station to station, and onwards the strange toiling human strive towards liberation, as old captain mission finds his place in the future history, yes we will. 
the plates rotate, the poles spin, the world follows it's beat, pulse signal to noise, think i'm going to drown in the white noise, think i'm going to swim across to the other shore, think i'm going to get to where i'm going, yes i can, yes i will, effortlessly.
it don't matter, one way or another, i got there, there's nowhere left to go, there's just somewhere.

in the old days magick was for outlaws, now its embraced by the popular culture, yet popular culture won't call it magick because by association magick is uncool, but magick is quite scientific in it's process, it must be tested under scientific conditions, repeated to give the same result, conditions must remain the same otherwise the result will vary.
herein lies a problem and why magick is tricky.
the condition of mind requires a discipline, this is fine tuned by the ritual and mediative aspects of the magickian, those old wizards knew what they were doing. 
those mantra chants, the yoga and visualisations all had purpose, the mind needs training, this is evident in all traditions, and the training is endless. the point is until one can not think of an elephant, when told not to think of an elephant, one is unprepared for magick to work effectively and therefore the results if any will be unpredictable. the lust for the result is also a mental exercise that requires discipline and training, for how can one enact an act of magick and not have a desire for a result, it's counter intuitive. yet counter intuition is the magickians currency, it's an abolishment of reason that gets the result. science folds back upon itself. 
if one uses astrology, one must accept that the universe and all it's components do not repeat themselves exactly, the variations are infinite yet the patterns may revolve. such approximations may result in different results, which is why it's known as chaos. 
the modern practitioner forgoes astrology for an internal alignment, quantum information.
the mind transcends single points, the position of a planet is never really in a single point anyway, it's part of a cosmic ballet, as we are. the chaos magickian would probably say something like, 'rocks n space only cast an influence if you want them to.'

looks like i'll be back in the grid on the 10th of this month, all communication is on the run, from my phone, internet cafe's or passing vessels i am travelling within.
this evenings post comes courtesy of the 'autistic express' a smaller ftl vessel manned by a bunch of extra chromosomal pirates, looking for booty and dancing to abba streamed through the internal radios 24/7, i tell you it's driving me nuts although i quite like that catchy number about the winner taking it all, interesting piano and lyric perspectives. anyway's i'm being accommodated although everything is slightly squished with the low ceilings, narrow short doors and the meals are generally jelly with bit's off fruit embedded within. they also drink a lot of coffee which is probably a good thing as i can't sleep on the short bed anyway.
old captain mission is popular amongst the girls here as well as they all come and introduce themselves and some request a dance, but he's no dancing queen, he declines and sits in the library waiting for another ship to cross paths.
these guys have no routines, they eat till it hurts, they stay up until they fall asleep and they dance till their legs can't move. but i tell you, i've seen em in battle and they know how to fight. they need a leader, some discipline, they know it, i know it, but it's left unsaid.
besides i'd need a large room of my own and put a ban on abba, i'd need to start a regime of vegetarian foods, avoiding the jelly and caffeine, then a fitness regime, that's when i reckon the mutiny would start....
so for the moment i'm happy just chilling out as a guest.
i'll post more as things develop.