Wednesday, August 28, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
'you gotta wise up mission' she said, adding, 'your just a dreamer, all over the place, dreaming up things and living in a fantasy world.'
'i dreamed you up,' i whisper.
'yeah and i'm telling you this for your own sake, you gotta stop writing this blog, no one reads it, no one cares.'
'i don't write it to be read, or for people to care, that's never been an issue for me.'
'you gotta make money mission, cold hard cash pays the bills, not your rambling words...'
'my words don't ramble, they are just flourishes, passing thoughts, ideas and obsessions, a river of unconsciousness into the ocean of...'
'...see! there you go again, rambling.'
'well i like dreaming, i am an enthusiastic dreamer, this is what happens to space cadets, they graduate to whatever i am, my fantasy is actually your reality, you're reading me so therefore my fantasy is real to you lest we be talking about the economy.'
i feel on a roll, my mental faculties are operating on a level of intuition, my brain is disengaged.
'well that's just complete rubbish mission, i'm not even going to dignify that with an answer.'
'i don't really mind either way but you need to start running away now.'
'why would i want to do that?'
she stands there, all tall and confident.
'because there's a fire breathing dragon about to swoop down and eat you.'
her smirk changes into a look of surprise as the shadow passes across her and she feels the hair on her neck respond to the sweep of wings.
Monday, August 26, 2013
these must be my haylcon days, i'm at peace with almost everything, after 6 months magickal retirement i'm feeling very cool. i don't really miss people so much as the conversation i had with those special people in my life, i don't feel the need to do anything remarkable, i'm not pushed or pulled in any direction and i'm about as free as one can be mentally. i'm uplinked with the cosmos baby.
i'm not about to discount my mortgage, the debt i am in to some financial institution sucking on my blood but hey, that's just finance, at least i have my health. for a man of 50 i feel pretty healthy, physically i'm heading towards some sort of form, emotionally i'm in peak, outraged by everything human beings do politically but not to attached to it. in awe of good art, creativity, spiritual pursuits and a little chaos, my faculties are good, sharp and distinctive, i've found the voice.
gardening has assisted me appreciate the land, planting tiger grass, landscaping, pulling out weeds, the animals that visit have all made me transition well, although there's a lot of work on the garden yet to be done, i see the connection and why this is important to embed in ones lifestyle.
in september spring arrives officially and i will venture outwards, engaging in the world of people again, catching up with old friends. rebirth i guess, in the meantime i have to read a few novels piling up, i've almost finished 'nexus' by ramez naam, but there's a big pile waiting for me.
currently there's a blue sky, cold breeze, high contrast day waiting for me, the postman has delivered a package.
i'm not about to discount my mortgage, the debt i am in to some financial institution sucking on my blood but hey, that's just finance, at least i have my health. for a man of 50 i feel pretty healthy, physically i'm heading towards some sort of form, emotionally i'm in peak, outraged by everything human beings do politically but not to attached to it. in awe of good art, creativity, spiritual pursuits and a little chaos, my faculties are good, sharp and distinctive, i've found the voice.
gardening has assisted me appreciate the land, planting tiger grass, landscaping, pulling out weeds, the animals that visit have all made me transition well, although there's a lot of work on the garden yet to be done, i see the connection and why this is important to embed in ones lifestyle.
in september spring arrives officially and i will venture outwards, engaging in the world of people again, catching up with old friends. rebirth i guess, in the meantime i have to read a few novels piling up, i've almost finished 'nexus' by ramez naam, but there's a big pile waiting for me.
currently there's a blue sky, cold breeze, high contrast day waiting for me, the postman has delivered a package.
Friday, August 23, 2013
brilliant pink sunset washing out my garden, i'm standing there watching this incredible band of light against a dark grey sky, the trees all look so still, the rocks glisten with a sort of sparkle like intensity, every detail reveals itself, from the tiny individual blades of grass to the esoteric nerve endings of branches sending out tiny impulses out to the sky, energy is everywhere. i'm blown away by the beauty, it's a painting waiting for an artist, it's a painting by an artist, its real.
i've done some work on the garden, planting some tiger grass, hoping that the outer layer of my balinese plan works, a little natural screening. i've saved a tree from being strangled by a vine, pulled out heaps of weeds and moved the lawn.
it's a tiny oasis of manicured land in the wilderness, i watch the suns last light with that satisfaction of a hard days work, and the payoff of this magnificent sunset.
spring will be here soon, i'm looking forwards to ending my retirement from the world and venturing out again.
i've done some work on the garden, planting some tiger grass, hoping that the outer layer of my balinese plan works, a little natural screening. i've saved a tree from being strangled by a vine, pulled out heaps of weeds and moved the lawn.
it's a tiny oasis of manicured land in the wilderness, i watch the suns last light with that satisfaction of a hard days work, and the payoff of this magnificent sunset.
spring will be here soon, i'm looking forwards to ending my retirement from the world and venturing out again.
walking in the strange towns of the north, the epic landscape turns in on itself, beauty hides in mysterious places, a dog buries its head in some rotting carcass, blood still gleaming in the hounds eye, rain drizzling turns to sleet and a cool wind forces you to wrap that old woollen scarf around your head.
everyone avoids you despite your unavoidable energy, a place of strangers and dangers, shadows lurch out from shadows, a flash of cold steel as a blade is drawn, you cast your gaze quickly downwards at the beggars who sit in the gutter leaking their poverty and wretchedness, you pass the confectionary junkies amassed in the crossroads of hope less and hope lost, you shuffle past the hoarders of glittering stones, trading their items and trinkets, you cross the street and dodge the women who weep, their tears almost up to their shins.
some children, the usual waifs follow you, dancing around your heavy feet, 'hey captain, we can show you the sights, hey do you want women, drugs, a good book, come with us. whatever you want we can get it for you mister,' they follow me up the hill, more and more falling out from windows and doors, the urchins of this strange hamlet, following me as i trudge upwards and onwards on my way.
i stumble over a cat who gets between my feet, i right myself and stop walking as the crowd of children surround me, faces blackened by dirt, grime and industry. i attempt to say something, but just splutter a few desperate words, 'away, away, go away children,' i manage but even my words are crushed by some kink in the atmospheric pressure. the children share a cigarette, it passes around them, tiny grubby fingers sharing a little dot of red light.
the clouds hang heavy, i can feel the water waiting to fall, a deluge washing everything away back to the river, i gotta find shelter somewhere, anywhere but here in this terrible town.
the children are looking up at me, their hungry eyes hoping for something, a morsel, a token an escape but there is nothing, no way out.
i give up and walk into a bar.
the stench of alcohol, cheap imitation whiskey, smoke and cigarettes, a few silhouettes of men hunched over stools, tables and chairs, a barmen in a white shirt and bow tie, cleaning dirty glasses. i walk over to him through the haze and the gaze of his suspicious clientele.
he seems to get taller the closer i get to him, some strange distortion of light and i'm standing there while he puts his glasses down, 'what will it be,' only it sounds like 'what little bee.'
those rotten tombstone teeth, and that fetid breath the stench of ancient stagnation, like crypt air being released. 'i just want a glass of milk or water.'
a strange purple light suddenly activates in the corner, an old juke box, music floods out from it, slow and distorted, it's a crackling and scratched acoustic version of 'i saw the light' by the the.
i grab my drink, a tall glass of water, there's no lemons or limes but i don't care, i take it over to the window, heavy rain smashes against the glass, furious wind scatters light into darkness and now there's nothing there, we could be on a ship, we could be anywhere, but where ever we are i'm a long way from home.
'finish your milk and get out stranger,' some ruptured face says, 'we don't want no poets in here.'
'i'm not a poet.'
'you are poet, i can smell it, its stinking up the place.'
'that's not me buddy, that's your rotting soul half eaten by boredom and alcohol....'
the fist must have come hard and fast because i'm seeing stars and then feel myself flying through the air, passing over cheap scratched tables, worn out cards and some glasses. some more fists, and then i'm out in the rain, already drenched in blood and water.
i can't see anything, my eyes must have swollen, my mouth tastes of blood and milk. i feel the slope of the hill, start walking uphill, body heavy and weary with pain, guts aching and chest wheezing like an old bong maniac. it's no good, i'm not getting very far, the street begins to even out, the buildings become sparse as they give way to fields, a few sad trees lit up by lightning in the distance, and there in the distance i can see sanctuary, the borderline, the gates.
i must be on my hands and knees, crawling through mud, fingers clutching at the earth, nails black with dirt, being dragged down by gravitational hell, muscles straining with each move, there it is, the boundary, i cross the line, my eyelids are getting heavy with the need to close again, i can't determine where my plot is so i wait for the next lightening flash, there it is, on my left. with one last surge of effort i find my way back there to the exposed hole, the box open and exposed, slightly rotten, half filled with brown water and black mud. i fall inside, position myself, arms crossed, eyes closed, to rest and peace.
everyone avoids you despite your unavoidable energy, a place of strangers and dangers, shadows lurch out from shadows, a flash of cold steel as a blade is drawn, you cast your gaze quickly downwards at the beggars who sit in the gutter leaking their poverty and wretchedness, you pass the confectionary junkies amassed in the crossroads of hope less and hope lost, you shuffle past the hoarders of glittering stones, trading their items and trinkets, you cross the street and dodge the women who weep, their tears almost up to their shins.
some children, the usual waifs follow you, dancing around your heavy feet, 'hey captain, we can show you the sights, hey do you want women, drugs, a good book, come with us. whatever you want we can get it for you mister,' they follow me up the hill, more and more falling out from windows and doors, the urchins of this strange hamlet, following me as i trudge upwards and onwards on my way.
i stumble over a cat who gets between my feet, i right myself and stop walking as the crowd of children surround me, faces blackened by dirt, grime and industry. i attempt to say something, but just splutter a few desperate words, 'away, away, go away children,' i manage but even my words are crushed by some kink in the atmospheric pressure. the children share a cigarette, it passes around them, tiny grubby fingers sharing a little dot of red light.
the clouds hang heavy, i can feel the water waiting to fall, a deluge washing everything away back to the river, i gotta find shelter somewhere, anywhere but here in this terrible town.
the children are looking up at me, their hungry eyes hoping for something, a morsel, a token an escape but there is nothing, no way out.
i give up and walk into a bar.
the stench of alcohol, cheap imitation whiskey, smoke and cigarettes, a few silhouettes of men hunched over stools, tables and chairs, a barmen in a white shirt and bow tie, cleaning dirty glasses. i walk over to him through the haze and the gaze of his suspicious clientele.
he seems to get taller the closer i get to him, some strange distortion of light and i'm standing there while he puts his glasses down, 'what will it be,' only it sounds like 'what little bee.'
those rotten tombstone teeth, and that fetid breath the stench of ancient stagnation, like crypt air being released. 'i just want a glass of milk or water.'
a strange purple light suddenly activates in the corner, an old juke box, music floods out from it, slow and distorted, it's a crackling and scratched acoustic version of 'i saw the light' by the the.
i grab my drink, a tall glass of water, there's no lemons or limes but i don't care, i take it over to the window, heavy rain smashes against the glass, furious wind scatters light into darkness and now there's nothing there, we could be on a ship, we could be anywhere, but where ever we are i'm a long way from home.
'finish your milk and get out stranger,' some ruptured face says, 'we don't want no poets in here.'
'i'm not a poet.'
'you are poet, i can smell it, its stinking up the place.'
'that's not me buddy, that's your rotting soul half eaten by boredom and alcohol....'
the fist must have come hard and fast because i'm seeing stars and then feel myself flying through the air, passing over cheap scratched tables, worn out cards and some glasses. some more fists, and then i'm out in the rain, already drenched in blood and water.
i can't see anything, my eyes must have swollen, my mouth tastes of blood and milk. i feel the slope of the hill, start walking uphill, body heavy and weary with pain, guts aching and chest wheezing like an old bong maniac. it's no good, i'm not getting very far, the street begins to even out, the buildings become sparse as they give way to fields, a few sad trees lit up by lightning in the distance, and there in the distance i can see sanctuary, the borderline, the gates.
i must be on my hands and knees, crawling through mud, fingers clutching at the earth, nails black with dirt, being dragged down by gravitational hell, muscles straining with each move, there it is, the boundary, i cross the line, my eyelids are getting heavy with the need to close again, i can't determine where my plot is so i wait for the next lightening flash, there it is, on my left. with one last surge of effort i find my way back there to the exposed hole, the box open and exposed, slightly rotten, half filled with brown water and black mud. i fall inside, position myself, arms crossed, eyes closed, to rest and peace.
Monday, August 19, 2013
okay, some of you cats may know apart from music, writing and musing on my multi dimensional navels, gazing at stars and communicating with gods, goddesses and deities beyond the space time continuum i also work as a social worker in the mental heath field. yeah it make's sense, mental health is the perfect place for me although when your clients start hitting you and the police intervene its time to think about a job in insurance or at least some kind of civilian life.
anti psychotic medication has a place, i'm not against the use of them, just the over use. i've worked with some people who's lives were remarkably improved by some of these drugs. one of my clients had a change in his med's and the result is, he's violent and aggressive, he's completely confused by his own behaviour and he lashes out at those that are helping him. however as kind hearted as you may think i am to devote my life to people less fortunate than me, i refuse to be a doormat to whatever impulses direct peoples abuse. the client threw a punch in front of two policemen, he has to live with the consequences.
i've never been whacked before and i've worked with some very dangerous people, i've had one person come at me with a massive knife and plunge it down on my chest, stopping a fraction of a hairs breathe from my skin. i didn't have time to react, just went straight into a pose of arms stretched out, head up like a crucified captain mission and he just fell onto his knees crying and blubbering, but this time i was punched hard in my chest by a huge powerful guy. the police dealt with it, although they were reluctant as the guy was going mental, attacking random people in the public, screaming and swearing at kids, 'we don't like to deal with these types of people,' the officer said.
'well maybe you need to change your perspective, i mean protect the public and all that jazz?'
'what do you want us to do?'
'i am the public, the other clients are the public and the public in this pizza restaurant are the public.'
they move in to assist but i know i've upset them.
anyway the drama gets worse before it gets better, i have to use some hard core medication to calm the guy down, after which he tells me, 'i might go and have a lay down.'
yeah you do that i think, after terrorizing half the town and hitting me in the chest you must be exhausted, i think.
yeah that's my day time job.
as the police left they said to me, 'we couldn't do your job.'
it's not always like this i wanted to say but fuck it, let them think what they want, it's not all ice creams and sunny days at the beach!
anti psychotic medication has a place, i'm not against the use of them, just the over use. i've worked with some people who's lives were remarkably improved by some of these drugs. one of my clients had a change in his med's and the result is, he's violent and aggressive, he's completely confused by his own behaviour and he lashes out at those that are helping him. however as kind hearted as you may think i am to devote my life to people less fortunate than me, i refuse to be a doormat to whatever impulses direct peoples abuse. the client threw a punch in front of two policemen, he has to live with the consequences.
i've never been whacked before and i've worked with some very dangerous people, i've had one person come at me with a massive knife and plunge it down on my chest, stopping a fraction of a hairs breathe from my skin. i didn't have time to react, just went straight into a pose of arms stretched out, head up like a crucified captain mission and he just fell onto his knees crying and blubbering, but this time i was punched hard in my chest by a huge powerful guy. the police dealt with it, although they were reluctant as the guy was going mental, attacking random people in the public, screaming and swearing at kids, 'we don't like to deal with these types of people,' the officer said.
'well maybe you need to change your perspective, i mean protect the public and all that jazz?'
'what do you want us to do?'
'i am the public, the other clients are the public and the public in this pizza restaurant are the public.'
they move in to assist but i know i've upset them.
anyway the drama gets worse before it gets better, i have to use some hard core medication to calm the guy down, after which he tells me, 'i might go and have a lay down.'
yeah you do that i think, after terrorizing half the town and hitting me in the chest you must be exhausted, i think.
yeah that's my day time job.
as the police left they said to me, 'we couldn't do your job.'
it's not always like this i wanted to say but fuck it, let them think what they want, it's not all ice creams and sunny days at the beach!
the central coast, spring skies, winter wind, autumn leaves, summer surf everything happens at twice, the land line phone rings, the mobile goes off, the kettle boils the toast pops out, the dog wants a walk while the fish need feeding, i'm sitting down and standing up, i'm half asleep and half awake.
one of me dreams of atlantis, walking through the crystal chambers where music chimes and purple light flickers across from structure to structure, the wonderful aqua blue water above me travelling along in anti gravity fields, pods of dolphins leaping from one the portal of water to the other. but one of me is awake, feeding my fish and playing with the dog, he's looking older, a few grey whiskers, he's moving slower and sleeps far to much, he's found special spots in the garden, some amongst the flowers and some in the dirt, some under the house and others, secret spots i am yet to discover.
one half of me is building a sculptural piece which requires stillness and meditation, so my mind is fixed upon a clear pool of crystal water, the other watches fish swimming through the water of a pond as i throw down pellets of koi food, focusing my intention on attracting the fish closer so i can hand feed them. one is under my influence, one is independent.
it's hard work maintaining two of me in existence, depletes some part of myself, maybe takes a year of my life, it's worse than smoking cigarettes, drinking heavy, taking dangerous drugs. just as well i don't make a habit of it.
i pull my two selves together into one, go to the shops and buy some bok choy. ah, it feels good being in the sun, in one body.
one of me dreams of atlantis, walking through the crystal chambers where music chimes and purple light flickers across from structure to structure, the wonderful aqua blue water above me travelling along in anti gravity fields, pods of dolphins leaping from one the portal of water to the other. but one of me is awake, feeding my fish and playing with the dog, he's looking older, a few grey whiskers, he's moving slower and sleeps far to much, he's found special spots in the garden, some amongst the flowers and some in the dirt, some under the house and others, secret spots i am yet to discover.
one half of me is building a sculptural piece which requires stillness and meditation, so my mind is fixed upon a clear pool of crystal water, the other watches fish swimming through the water of a pond as i throw down pellets of koi food, focusing my intention on attracting the fish closer so i can hand feed them. one is under my influence, one is independent.
it's hard work maintaining two of me in existence, depletes some part of myself, maybe takes a year of my life, it's worse than smoking cigarettes, drinking heavy, taking dangerous drugs. just as well i don't make a habit of it.
i pull my two selves together into one, go to the shops and buy some bok choy. ah, it feels good being in the sun, in one body.
5am i'm driving down the highway at dawn watching the beautiful skies, in a big country right? australia is huge, the skies and the oceans wide, i'm digging my thoughts, like a zen reflection slowly i'm at peace, it happened without thinking, total zen, i have to stop on my way as i have an appointment to read someones cards, i've been doing a few lately, getting paid to, how did that happen, fucked if i know. but then i do, something is guiding me, it's a good thing, i like this current, it's a great one, i'm surfing it all the way, and i'm not going to wipe out until i do.
the reading is good, its accurate and above all offers a healthy positive outlook. you gotta be brave to have your cards read by me, and i gotta feel the spirit, today it was strong.
later i get to work and get my friends up and awake, we blitz some domestic stuff and then it's off down to the market, it's been a while since i been there but i figure today is a good day for a market and we can all get a decent coffee there.
i'm singing songs, elvis, the beatles, stones, bowie and they guess the band. easy, these guys have a keen interest in music, they are laughing so i know it's going to be a good day. laughter is very important, laughter expels negative energies, but i digress...
we shift it down the roads of northern sydney until i get to the markets, it's packed, swarming. we wander around, meeting people, tasting their wares, indulging our senses. these markets have a good feel, everyone is in a great mood, there's a lot of joy hanging in the air, the girls all look beautiful, it's a day for flowers, sunglasses and a smile.
i get everyone a coffee, they are loving it, a real coffee not instant nescafe, a real blended organic coffee made with love. we jump in the van for the shopping mall as one of the people i work for has a thing about 'uncle petes toy world' he loves buying caps from there and i seem to be the only person who would take him, he's a real eccentric, and also a gentleman despite his obsession for cap guns, we wander around the shop and he stops at an airfix model of a plane, and i ask him if he has ever built one because i have not seen him ever take and interest in these things before. 'yeah i used to build them,' he says.
now this is gold, a little bit of information you need to move forwards, i take a mental note of this, because this is a window. we get two boxes of caps and i say, 'no shooting your housemates, no shooting me, no shooting the cat. anything else is fine.'
i take the others to the book shop where they look at their interests, one looks at a picture book of sydney, old sepia photographs from a time gone by and a guide book on new zealand. i know one of these chaps lives in the past and fears the future, and the other is learning to overcome his fear of his past and embrace a future, one day he will travel overseas and see the world but that's going to take a few years.
we drive north, back to my past into tiny avalon, where i buy everyone an ice cream. we sit in the sunshine and a few people say hello to me, but i'm miles away, we drive home and everyones happy, big day, lots of opening up, on the way home i hear about issues they have, it's incredible as some are quite deep rooted, they have been obscured yet they open up and share this stuff with me today, defences down, energy force fields depleted by ice cream and naturally induced joy, hard day at the office, fuck no!
the reading is good, its accurate and above all offers a healthy positive outlook. you gotta be brave to have your cards read by me, and i gotta feel the spirit, today it was strong.
later i get to work and get my friends up and awake, we blitz some domestic stuff and then it's off down to the market, it's been a while since i been there but i figure today is a good day for a market and we can all get a decent coffee there.
i'm singing songs, elvis, the beatles, stones, bowie and they guess the band. easy, these guys have a keen interest in music, they are laughing so i know it's going to be a good day. laughter is very important, laughter expels negative energies, but i digress...
we shift it down the roads of northern sydney until i get to the markets, it's packed, swarming. we wander around, meeting people, tasting their wares, indulging our senses. these markets have a good feel, everyone is in a great mood, there's a lot of joy hanging in the air, the girls all look beautiful, it's a day for flowers, sunglasses and a smile.
i get everyone a coffee, they are loving it, a real coffee not instant nescafe, a real blended organic coffee made with love. we jump in the van for the shopping mall as one of the people i work for has a thing about 'uncle petes toy world' he loves buying caps from there and i seem to be the only person who would take him, he's a real eccentric, and also a gentleman despite his obsession for cap guns, we wander around the shop and he stops at an airfix model of a plane, and i ask him if he has ever built one because i have not seen him ever take and interest in these things before. 'yeah i used to build them,' he says.
now this is gold, a little bit of information you need to move forwards, i take a mental note of this, because this is a window. we get two boxes of caps and i say, 'no shooting your housemates, no shooting me, no shooting the cat. anything else is fine.'
i take the others to the book shop where they look at their interests, one looks at a picture book of sydney, old sepia photographs from a time gone by and a guide book on new zealand. i know one of these chaps lives in the past and fears the future, and the other is learning to overcome his fear of his past and embrace a future, one day he will travel overseas and see the world but that's going to take a few years.
we drive north, back to my past into tiny avalon, where i buy everyone an ice cream. we sit in the sunshine and a few people say hello to me, but i'm miles away, we drive home and everyones happy, big day, lots of opening up, on the way home i hear about issues they have, it's incredible as some are quite deep rooted, they have been obscured yet they open up and share this stuff with me today, defences down, energy force fields depleted by ice cream and naturally induced joy, hard day at the office, fuck no!
Friday, August 16, 2013
sometimes weeks go past, without a conversation with anyone i can relate to correctly, i mean i work full time but it's me and four guys who have mental illness afflictions, they are plagued by demons, erratic thought processes, dysfunctional chemical networks that confuse almost everything in their experience, it's only because i am very good at my job they feel totally safe with me, but i can't really talk about my own passions with them, so at mission control, i guess i'm just surrounded by my beasts whom i am learning to communicate with but it's tricky and i'm actually feeling some what alone, lonely. i'd love to chat with someone, face to face, have a deep and meaningful conversation, but i've lost most of my social skills, i just can't see the point in them now.
why can't you just say what you wanna say, be who you are, all that bullshit getting to know you, you never really know anyone, the best you can do is know yourself, and then attempt to know another but only ever discover more about yourself. i'm far to egocentric for an egoless person, my super ego must be driving me now, i wish it would leave me alone, i'd like some time alone with my id.
Thursday, August 15, 2013
australian writer max barry is going to be huge in hollywood, all his novels are ripe for adaptation including his newest 'lexicon.'
street hustler emily ruff is recruited by an exclusive school to learn the art of manipulation, persuasion and how words become weapons in the right hands.
meanwhile wil jamieson is on the run from warring factions of poets, he can't remember why, how or who he really is, only that the answer lies in the decimated town known as broken hill.
lexicon starts messy and confused but the writer untangles a riveting and unusual tale, science fiction, horror, romance, semantics and NLP manual lexicon has it all but my only criticism is the need for barry to share his characters 'urination' details with us. it's the first time i read barry and i'm looking forwards to his back catalogue. i usually avoid australian science fiction, but there are a few good writers out there, certainly greg egan ranks amongst the better.
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
morning arrives at erratic times, determined by far to many variables, mostly my internal clock is set, and almost with procedural like inevitability my eyes focus on objective time,if i can i catch the extra few hours and if not then i haul myself through mornings routines.
teeth first, shower, dress, coffee.
then the beasts require my attention.
the dog enjoys his morning session of frisbee, he watches while i feed the fish, and the water dragon may appear ready for his treat, after all winter fades and he's depleted, reptilian hungry drives him towards dependable me.
the dog gets his food and fresh water, then the birds which i confuse with my erratic and non linear routine, keep em guessing these kings of the skies, for the nature and my will are aligned.
duties done, my responsibilities met, dharma!
today i get to add additional household duties to the list, lucky me, solar powered, fully charged i leap into action, washing, cleaning, vacuuming, sweeping, chopping wood and carrying water, if i see buddha i won't kill him, but i certainly will request he pick up some leaves and do some weeding, but buddha and i are on slightly different paths, and he's not on my road today so i finish up and write.
Sunday, August 11, 2013
i came across this on facebook, the comments below were stating how absurd this is, suggesting it is in fact a belief itself, that some individuals beliefs raise their consciousness therefore the statement makes no sense. however, the statement is a meta belief, it makes perfect sense because as crowley suggested for anything to be true it must contain its own contradiction. i like this statement above, most beliefs enslave us and keep us trapped in the belief, most beliefs are false, once we believe something we are almost less likely to believe the opposition of the belief which in practical terms locks us in to an inflexible attitude about everything we believe. consciousness has little to do with belief, it don't matter weather you believe it or not, if you are an advocate of raising consciousness you will know it can't be locked into political religious or moral terms, it is just what it is, a cosmic gnosis of self awareness, the universe knowing itself. as humans we can't begin to fathom what it knows about itself because our brains function on a limited capacity, however psychedelics, magick and mysticism access these dimensions we are normally excluded from, they give us insight and intuition.
how we chose to believe is as important as what we believe and belief is an engine driving ourselves perhaps to a key unlocking imagination and that is the doorway in which we must pass to access what consciousness is, what we are, what we can be. don't believe in anything, belief is everything, believe in what sets you free.
she actually said to me, 'mission, don't mess with the fucking cosmos.'
'i can't help it, it's my nature,' i replied.
'it's not your place, only gods.'
'it's okay she gave me a hack, i work for her now.'
'what work? all you do is smoke weed and write strange stuff.'
'the goddess works in mysterious ways sister, not my place to question them.'
Saturday, August 10, 2013
well today was magnificent, special extra crispy blue skies, glorious sunlight and who do i see waiting on the bridge over my pond but the water dragon, out from hibernation, haven't seen him for months but here he is, sprawled out in the sunshine waiting for some food. he tilts his head to one side, and watches me play frisbee with pan. pan skips through the tall grass, he's happy, the birds are happy and i'm sure on a day like today the bees are happy.
i chat on skype to my friends in the uk so even i am happy, and the day has not even really begun.
i do some cleaning, cooking, shopping and play 'kilbey and kennedy' very loud while i make sure the floors are gleaming and my laundry is hanging out. yeah didn't do much, just chop the wood and carry the water but in the evening i read a story that makes me really sad.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2388618/Teenagers-saw-attackers-smile-nod-throwing-acid-caused-clothes-disintegrate-minutes-burned-rescuers-hands.html
it just breaks my heart
i chat on skype to my friends in the uk so even i am happy, and the day has not even really begun.
i do some cleaning, cooking, shopping and play 'kilbey and kennedy' very loud while i make sure the floors are gleaming and my laundry is hanging out. yeah didn't do much, just chop the wood and carry the water but in the evening i read a story that makes me really sad.
http://www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-2388618/Teenagers-saw-attackers-smile-nod-throwing-acid-caused-clothes-disintegrate-minutes-burned-rescuers-hands.html
it just breaks my heart
HOW TO BE FREE
“Imagination is everything. It is the preview of life's coming attractions.” -Albert Einstein
“The greatest discovery of my generation is that human beings can alter their lives by altering their attitudes of mind.” -William James
“Watch your thoughts; they become words. Watch your words; they become actions. Watch your actions; they become habit. Watch your habits; they become character. Watch your character; it becomes your destiny.” -Lao Tzu
“All that we are is the result of what we have thought.” -Buddha
“We are shaped by our thoughts; we become what we think. When the mind is pure, joy follows like a show that never leaves.” -Buddha
“A man is but the product of his thoughts what he thinks, he becomes.” -Gandhi
“Nurture your mind with great thoughts, for you will never go any higher than you think.” -Benjamin Disraeli
“We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful what we pretend to be.” -Kurt Vonnegut
“You create your own universe as you go along.” -Winston Churchill
“The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts: therefore, guard accordingly, and take care that you entertain no notion unsuitable to virtue and reasonable nature.” -Marcus Aurelius Antoninus
“When you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change.” -Dr. Wayne Dyer
“Your circumstances may be uncongenial, but they shall not remain so if you only perceive an ideal and strive to reach it. You cannot travel within and stand still without. Let a person radically alter his thoughts, and he will be astonished at the rapid transformation it will effect in the material conditions of his life.” -James Allen
“By choosing your thoughts, and by selecting which emotional currents you will release and which you will reinforce, you determine the quality of your Light. You determine the effects that you will have upon others, and the nature of the experiences of your life.” -Gary Zukav
“Follow your bliss, and doors will open for you that you never knew existed. Follow your bliss and the universe will open doors for you where there were only walls.” -Joseph Campbell
“Take the first step in faith. You don't have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.” -Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
veils abound this fabric of reality, small pockets of interludes, tiny holes leaking through, aspect ratios and tangential flow, possible breech in integrity.
i can't control the words, the language that spills from the other sides, i'm only conduit, innocent lamb in the shadow of the beast, or am i the beast. this is everyman's question, my own shadow nature haunts me like a despicable friend from a reptile history, i slug it a few shots with my old trusted lunar powered zap gun but the charge is far to weak, and i'm developing a theory that the shadow self is lunar powered, if only i had some solar weaponry but i'm all out of sun.
you see it's all about living in the line that divides both sides, all about equilibrium. you can't drag the world of darkness into the light, you have to adjust that within yourself, and maybe that's about all one can do, unless you delve into some powerful voodoo, a lonely old wizard in a tower or a man lost in space...
eons ago, there was a space war spanning several galaxies, i found an aspect of myself adrift, floating somewhere in the void, my ship, a fragment of life support, energy cube dwindling down, drifting through emptiness, surrounded by a space i couldn't fill. so i jacked into memory2, recalled some love affairs, a certain adventure with a dragon woman. i figured it would be a good way to pass through the vessel of this life into the next, so i remembered and forgot at the same time. waiting to die, didn't need to be so lonely, i could just let my mind drift through memory2.
there she was, all a splendour in her red dragon neon suit and her winged fabric, how i loved that tail, with it's strange pronged tip.
she flew so well, drifting in dawns haze, over rivers, through the patchwork mists, under the bridges of rock. i felt alive and in love, ha, believe me, even in that memory the irony was not wasted.
she had such lovely shoulders and i stroked the area where her wings connected to them, my fingers weaving a strange tiny trail downwards as she purred, i think she was about to whisper something in my ear, her mouth hovered there for a moment and i felt the tremor of anticipation, but then it changed, and in that point of slow death i saw reprieve.
i think the oxygen system was depleted, i was a dead man, hanging onto a soft memory as life passed through me, but now instead of the dragon woman i was being pulled from the chamber. a massive cable plugged into my suit, my body felt a strange electrical impulse, it spasmed like a jelly and then some huge force rocked into my heart and that first beat kick stared blood and my eyes must have opened.
i must have left my body, i mean i could see them all working on me, the salvage team, unplugging the electrical pack, taking readings, shining lights in my eyes, i could see my muscle atrophied body laying there, i could see the wound on my shoulder, the scar on my face above my eyebrow. everything went bright, white out.
i was sitting in a chair, a woman, she said she was a healer asked me questions, a man sat in the corner with his arms folded and an unreadable smile.
'where am i,' would have been the obvious question, but instead i asked her where the darkness had gone.
she looked at me puzzled, 'there is no darkness here.'
i believed her for a moment, she seemed earnest enough, but through the haze of thoughts i knew the darkness was still there, inside, dormant, hidden away disguised in some way.
'i think it's inside me, please get it out,' those last three words staggered as i fell back, energy depleted.
later they offered me some food, fruit and some cool water, a paste type of sweet protein. it had been months since i had eaten, my mouth chewed it slowly, the machinery of eating felt awkward and clumsy, liquid dribbled from my lips.
later i meditated, did some yoga, sat alone for long periods in-between visits from my rescuers. i focused on breathing, stretching and keeping my mind still.
when the woman came back i'd answer her questions, which she answered.
they were explorers, not from earth, in fact they had never heard of earth, they had never met a human although i suspected we shared similar dna, they had been travelling through space for a long time and were about to return when they discovered my burnt out capsule.
they seemed kind, generous, whatever society they left behind i felt it was a healthy utopia, they knew no conflicts, no hunger, no one suffered needlessly, people were free to do whatever they wanted, there was only one law, do no harm. they knew no shame, no guilt, no pride and throughout their society not one individual suffered.
as my body repaired itself i saw their technology was much more advanced than earth's science, yet it was hidden, i could see no machines, no panels, lights or screens, they just seemed to be able to manifest what ever they wanted, a subtle wave, a nod, a blink, a twitch, a glance, such actions would just cause changes, things would appear or disappear, a hand would turn slowly and open and inside from nowhere a round blue fruit would lay, ripe and ready for eating. i was always mystified, how, how i would ask.
my saviours just said, 'it is abundant,' i think they were puzzled by my question.
there was no name from whence they came, no name for them as individuals and they never asked me for a name, in fact i don't even know how we spoke the same language, we just did, it was not telepathy, somethings else, a knowing as though all boundaries were dissolved and we shared the same mind.
the conflict had left me nervous, i was shell shocked, in deep trauma, i spend many hours looking out from the screen at the space that passed by, in the distance a purple swirl soaring upwards like a spiral, and splattered around its vortex planets seemed to orbit.
i'd never seen structures like it, this was not a part of anything i was familiar with. i had no terms of reference, i was in unknown territory, completely of the radar.
my hosts explained they would be returning home and they would be happy for me to come with them, or they would put me at any 'earth' outpost i requested, but there was no earth outpost here, earth was dead, lost to the darkness. we had lost the war, i could feel it deep down in my heart, over powered by our enemy, it had eaten our souls in its endless hunger.
did i have a duty to seek out survivors, did i have a responsibility to my race, had we run and lost, either way i was alive. the morality kicked in, i was alive and contaminated heading to a new universe where a pure race existed, in total harmony, i wondered what the dangers were of a human soul infecting them with the darkness, i gazed out at the cluster of stars.
when the woman returned she listened to my story, about the war, the spiritual war and she smiled and reassured me, 'the darkness cannot harm us, we are immune to such things, and we can heal you and any people from your race we find.'
'how are you immune,' i said cynically.
'it's just an idea someone planted within your heads, it probably has a deep history in your narratives and mythology, whereas our species has nothing, no narratives, no duality, no boundaries, no ideas, we just live without these things, they are almost abstract to us, not real at all to us. even the idea of light and dark are abstracted, mere words that entrap us.'
'what is real?' i whispered like a child...
...when i opened my eyes i was back, back in my capsule, and the last moment of breathing seemed to pass through me, as consciousness dwindled and the lights flickered off and the echo of the word, 'nothing.'
i can't control the words, the language that spills from the other sides, i'm only conduit, innocent lamb in the shadow of the beast, or am i the beast. this is everyman's question, my own shadow nature haunts me like a despicable friend from a reptile history, i slug it a few shots with my old trusted lunar powered zap gun but the charge is far to weak, and i'm developing a theory that the shadow self is lunar powered, if only i had some solar weaponry but i'm all out of sun.
you see it's all about living in the line that divides both sides, all about equilibrium. you can't drag the world of darkness into the light, you have to adjust that within yourself, and maybe that's about all one can do, unless you delve into some powerful voodoo, a lonely old wizard in a tower or a man lost in space...
eons ago, there was a space war spanning several galaxies, i found an aspect of myself adrift, floating somewhere in the void, my ship, a fragment of life support, energy cube dwindling down, drifting through emptiness, surrounded by a space i couldn't fill. so i jacked into memory2, recalled some love affairs, a certain adventure with a dragon woman. i figured it would be a good way to pass through the vessel of this life into the next, so i remembered and forgot at the same time. waiting to die, didn't need to be so lonely, i could just let my mind drift through memory2.
there she was, all a splendour in her red dragon neon suit and her winged fabric, how i loved that tail, with it's strange pronged tip.
she flew so well, drifting in dawns haze, over rivers, through the patchwork mists, under the bridges of rock. i felt alive and in love, ha, believe me, even in that memory the irony was not wasted.
she had such lovely shoulders and i stroked the area where her wings connected to them, my fingers weaving a strange tiny trail downwards as she purred, i think she was about to whisper something in my ear, her mouth hovered there for a moment and i felt the tremor of anticipation, but then it changed, and in that point of slow death i saw reprieve.
i think the oxygen system was depleted, i was a dead man, hanging onto a soft memory as life passed through me, but now instead of the dragon woman i was being pulled from the chamber. a massive cable plugged into my suit, my body felt a strange electrical impulse, it spasmed like a jelly and then some huge force rocked into my heart and that first beat kick stared blood and my eyes must have opened.
i must have left my body, i mean i could see them all working on me, the salvage team, unplugging the electrical pack, taking readings, shining lights in my eyes, i could see my muscle atrophied body laying there, i could see the wound on my shoulder, the scar on my face above my eyebrow. everything went bright, white out.
i was sitting in a chair, a woman, she said she was a healer asked me questions, a man sat in the corner with his arms folded and an unreadable smile.
'where am i,' would have been the obvious question, but instead i asked her where the darkness had gone.
she looked at me puzzled, 'there is no darkness here.'
i believed her for a moment, she seemed earnest enough, but through the haze of thoughts i knew the darkness was still there, inside, dormant, hidden away disguised in some way.
'i think it's inside me, please get it out,' those last three words staggered as i fell back, energy depleted.
later they offered me some food, fruit and some cool water, a paste type of sweet protein. it had been months since i had eaten, my mouth chewed it slowly, the machinery of eating felt awkward and clumsy, liquid dribbled from my lips.
later i meditated, did some yoga, sat alone for long periods in-between visits from my rescuers. i focused on breathing, stretching and keeping my mind still.
when the woman came back i'd answer her questions, which she answered.
they were explorers, not from earth, in fact they had never heard of earth, they had never met a human although i suspected we shared similar dna, they had been travelling through space for a long time and were about to return when they discovered my burnt out capsule.
they seemed kind, generous, whatever society they left behind i felt it was a healthy utopia, they knew no conflicts, no hunger, no one suffered needlessly, people were free to do whatever they wanted, there was only one law, do no harm. they knew no shame, no guilt, no pride and throughout their society not one individual suffered.
as my body repaired itself i saw their technology was much more advanced than earth's science, yet it was hidden, i could see no machines, no panels, lights or screens, they just seemed to be able to manifest what ever they wanted, a subtle wave, a nod, a blink, a twitch, a glance, such actions would just cause changes, things would appear or disappear, a hand would turn slowly and open and inside from nowhere a round blue fruit would lay, ripe and ready for eating. i was always mystified, how, how i would ask.
my saviours just said, 'it is abundant,' i think they were puzzled by my question.
there was no name from whence they came, no name for them as individuals and they never asked me for a name, in fact i don't even know how we spoke the same language, we just did, it was not telepathy, somethings else, a knowing as though all boundaries were dissolved and we shared the same mind.
the conflict had left me nervous, i was shell shocked, in deep trauma, i spend many hours looking out from the screen at the space that passed by, in the distance a purple swirl soaring upwards like a spiral, and splattered around its vortex planets seemed to orbit.
i'd never seen structures like it, this was not a part of anything i was familiar with. i had no terms of reference, i was in unknown territory, completely of the radar.
my hosts explained they would be returning home and they would be happy for me to come with them, or they would put me at any 'earth' outpost i requested, but there was no earth outpost here, earth was dead, lost to the darkness. we had lost the war, i could feel it deep down in my heart, over powered by our enemy, it had eaten our souls in its endless hunger.
did i have a duty to seek out survivors, did i have a responsibility to my race, had we run and lost, either way i was alive. the morality kicked in, i was alive and contaminated heading to a new universe where a pure race existed, in total harmony, i wondered what the dangers were of a human soul infecting them with the darkness, i gazed out at the cluster of stars.
when the woman returned she listened to my story, about the war, the spiritual war and she smiled and reassured me, 'the darkness cannot harm us, we are immune to such things, and we can heal you and any people from your race we find.'
'how are you immune,' i said cynically.
'it's just an idea someone planted within your heads, it probably has a deep history in your narratives and mythology, whereas our species has nothing, no narratives, no duality, no boundaries, no ideas, we just live without these things, they are almost abstract to us, not real at all to us. even the idea of light and dark are abstracted, mere words that entrap us.'
'what is real?' i whispered like a child...
...when i opened my eyes i was back, back in my capsule, and the last moment of breathing seemed to pass through me, as consciousness dwindled and the lights flickered off and the echo of the word, 'nothing.'
Thursday, August 08, 2013
the fist thing you would notice when holding the church dvd future past present, is the thickness, this is no normal dvd. it feels like a big thick book, and in a way this is what you hold.
there has always been a reluctance to release church live dvds, and if you have ever seen the church play you can almost understand why, how can you capture magick, the energy is not three dimensional, it's transcendent, a mixture of rich sound, eloquent rich narrative and the other more mystical ingredients, not to mention four musicians who have mastered their arts and craft it with just enough creative chaos to make it very different from conventional rock and roll.
three discs, three decades, three complete albums played live, i was there, right down the front and i'm pretty certain it was the defining moment of the band. after 30 plus years, numerous albums, loads of amazing live shows and some sort of history in the sound of my own life, the dvd encapsulates 'it' whatever 'it' is.
i always thought a dvd of the church would be filmed in the same vein as 'live at pompeii' where an early pink floyd play to no one, in the ancient amphitheatre. i imagined the church playing in the rainforest at dawn, dusk and night under stars, playing to the universe, and no audience, but i guess it's a logistical expensive nightmare and to be perfectly selfish i would have wanted to be there.
so here on three discs we have the next best thing, hours of brilliant music, which visually maintains interest and as you watch steve's movements incorporate elements of dance, mime and invocation, the very occasional yet legendary wit and banter with the audience, you develop an understanding of personality within these songs. 'the disillusionist' is perhaps the obvious one, but every song has its own character and expression and the delivery is extraordinary.
'untitled 23' which i think sounds so much better live, 'priest = aura' and 'starfish' three incredibly diverse sounds, lyrically in the realms of the poets, energetically in the gateway of the gods, musicianship, texture, nuance and form in one cohesive night of unselfish and exceptionally generous performance by my favourite band. i am grateful to have seen this, i am grateful to have a dvd that i can play at home and transport me to the past, present and future.
Tuesday, August 06, 2013
gods last secret
here's a video that i think is quiet good, despite the snippet of 'queen' at the beginning and the tone of the narrator, the information basically is a group of scientists acknowledging the existence of magick and what mystics, magickians and shamans have known for thousands of years. however what is strange is if a bunch of scientists say it, the information becomes safe and acceptable, but if some one calls themselves a magickian and says the same thing in different language they are considered nuts, insane or worse. scientists are a hairsbreadth away from 'getting it' they just need to let go of the science.
Sunday, August 04, 2013
the breeze traverses it's way right through mission control, cold edge and narrow focus it cuts the skin and sharpens the bone. silver light swamping the ferns, some sort of glade under a layer of fronds, see the fractal land in a dark green leaf, see the fade of winter clash with spring, feel the contours of times division, seasons of the mind.
i feed the fish, the koi swims with his mouth wide open as food pellets rain down, i have to make sure i lure him into position without scaring him, he's got poor vision and is easily spooked. the other fish slaps his tail around and frolics with glee, feeding time for the pond life brings a sense of clarity, a zen space, slightly mediative as i try to clear my mind, join the fish, be part of some thing greater.
later i play frisbee with my dog, he's been raiding the neighbourhoods dustbins, dragged back an assortment of contraband which i have to throw away again, recycled trash recycled.
the birds get their fair share of seeds and pastes, they chirp around, flying out from the trees, flashing of colour, making a lovely racket.
sunlight dances, blue skies filter the branches, another perfect day. i wonder what the waves are doing, the particles seem to be just fine.
i feed the fish, the koi swims with his mouth wide open as food pellets rain down, i have to make sure i lure him into position without scaring him, he's got poor vision and is easily spooked. the other fish slaps his tail around and frolics with glee, feeding time for the pond life brings a sense of clarity, a zen space, slightly mediative as i try to clear my mind, join the fish, be part of some thing greater.
later i play frisbee with my dog, he's been raiding the neighbourhoods dustbins, dragged back an assortment of contraband which i have to throw away again, recycled trash recycled.
the birds get their fair share of seeds and pastes, they chirp around, flying out from the trees, flashing of colour, making a lovely racket.
sunlight dances, blue skies filter the branches, another perfect day. i wonder what the waves are doing, the particles seem to be just fine.
Saturday, August 03, 2013
i don't know where i was, somewhere in germany, dusseldorf i think at some technological building shaped like a flying saucer, i'm with a bunch of strangers all clambering up the steps, willingly entering the stomach of the beasty which swallows us up in darkness.
you got to hand it to the germans, they design well, plush and elegant exhibitions but the one i am drawn most towards is a white pod like chair which i sit in. it's perfectly comfortable, excellent spinal support and whatever the lining is seems to mould itself to my shape. the walls of the pod like chair seem to wrap themselves around me and i close my eyes relaxing.
seconds later i notice a small control panel at my fingers, and i press one of the buttons.
music burst out and surrounds me, clarity perfect, it's some sort of electronic music, kraftwork or tangerine dream, that germanic beat pulses right through my bones, i'm floating in space, the sound system is like the best i have ever heard, it's everywhere, bathing me in soft delicious music.
yeah this is the future, pleasure domes, i want one.
you got to hand it to the germans, they design well, plush and elegant exhibitions but the one i am drawn most towards is a white pod like chair which i sit in. it's perfectly comfortable, excellent spinal support and whatever the lining is seems to mould itself to my shape. the walls of the pod like chair seem to wrap themselves around me and i close my eyes relaxing.
seconds later i notice a small control panel at my fingers, and i press one of the buttons.
music burst out and surrounds me, clarity perfect, it's some sort of electronic music, kraftwork or tangerine dream, that germanic beat pulses right through my bones, i'm floating in space, the sound system is like the best i have ever heard, it's everywhere, bathing me in soft delicious music.
yeah this is the future, pleasure domes, i want one.
ironically as i climb out from debt i'm also pulled further in, my rate's suggest i should access parks, tennis courts, libraries and swimming pools more often. i don't use any off these facilities yet i'm charged heaps for them, how does that work? let me suggest owning your own home is not what it's cracked up to be, when i was renting i never had to worry about these things, plus i had more freedom. owning a home has certain advantages but it's stressful, bills and fucking taxes, rates and a mortgage, hardly any cash left over at all.
i've spent two hours on the phone to my bank, an hour spent trying to work out why my internet banking password has changed, seems like i'm under cyber attack. an hour working out my car payments. then the electricity company hunts me down wanting me to sign up for something, all these vampyre networks, big constructs eating away at my blood, it's not my fault keven rudd put up the tax on the banks, but somehow we the people pay for it, same with the carbon tax, yeah tax the energy providers and all they do is increase our payments. there's no way out from the quagmire of corruption and parasitic political survival that debt causes, it's a mother fucking clusterfuck of a whole new kind, which is why debt does matter, so big fucking deal we have a aaa credit rating, that just means we can get into more debt, it's all a huge rort and the public are the cash crop that pay for it.
there's no escape because ideologies are at war, the left wing is now more right wing that the right wing, they control all free speech in a way the right would never control it, they seduce us with there friendly terminology, a newspeak for the dumbed down university clones, growth, sustainability, eco friendly, all these terms have been appropriated from the context of origin, agenda 21 is being ushered in through the backdoor of local councils, it's moving rapidly by stealth and subterfuge and the public are asleep or brain dead zombies carrying out their orders because they no longer have the capacity to think for themselves, it's why sarah handsome young would cry and sob about dead people drowning as they try to get to australia but shout in anger as the government attempt to stop that happening, hypocrites media manipulators, liars and thief's, australian polotics has never sunk so low, kevin dudd may be appeal to the youth but lets face it, a youth fed on a diet of australia has talent, big brother, coke, beer and meat, and tweeting, yeah i see why it all makes sense for them, friendly kev will save us from nasty tony, meanwhile they and their grandchildren will be living of the state, dependant and jobless as big brother takes over. big govt. big population. big deal, these big things are not the way for australia to act rationally or reasonably when we have more homeless people, children that ever, more mental health issues, poverty and hospital queues.
what's the answer, withdraw from the united fucking nations swiftly, get our own country sorted out and self sufficient and raise us out from debt, fuck the globalist agenda, it was a great idea in theory but it's run by a bunch of quasi fascist socialists and they don't have our interests at heart, do they?
well i'm lucky, i was born in london, educated by skool and my own investigations, university of life. i could have been born in iran a gay progressive fleeing the nut case religious leaders and living a secret life, barely able to have a quality of life, living in fear, why wouldn't i want to come to australia. i would.
but the issue is not about coming to australia, that will not solve the problem, what needs to occur is a good investigation into these countries and instead of adopting a politically correct, cultural relative position we should start calling these cultures what they are.
barbaric.
its no good invading these places and setting up proxy dictators run by the west either, what is necessary is to swap aid for reasonability in culture.
it is not okay to stone women!
it is not okay to marginalise gay and lesbians?
it is not okay to bomb civilians, by drone or a stick of dynamite strapped to your head.
it is not okay to have 1% of the wealth kept by the ruling elite.
it is not okay to brainwash children with hateful ideology.
it is not okay to use religion over peoples free will?
it is not okay to wage war!
if people in these countries had the support of the western governments they would not have to leave in the first place. all they want is they type of freedom we aspire to, although being in debt is far from being free.
as far as the western world goes we have to stop waging war on ourselves, the governments of the western world need prosecuting, they no longer represent the populations that vote for them. they follow secret agendas, they betray good citizens like bradley manning and the chap in russia, they need to come clean and start again. the world requires and enema, flush out the things that no longer work, lets get back to basic values first, then we can talk civilisation.
let me be honest here, it hurts to know children die awful deaths just because they want to reach australia and i believe there's plenty of room for these people, however i know there's a root cause of the problem and it lies in brutality and cruel governments, western or otherwise.
i'm reminded of that magazine, 'song shot by both sides.'
if the governments of the world really cared and wanted to help refugees it would start asking why these people are running. they run from fear.
people fear their governments, that's the number one global problem that needs fixing.
i've spent two hours on the phone to my bank, an hour spent trying to work out why my internet banking password has changed, seems like i'm under cyber attack. an hour working out my car payments. then the electricity company hunts me down wanting me to sign up for something, all these vampyre networks, big constructs eating away at my blood, it's not my fault keven rudd put up the tax on the banks, but somehow we the people pay for it, same with the carbon tax, yeah tax the energy providers and all they do is increase our payments. there's no way out from the quagmire of corruption and parasitic political survival that debt causes, it's a mother fucking clusterfuck of a whole new kind, which is why debt does matter, so big fucking deal we have a aaa credit rating, that just means we can get into more debt, it's all a huge rort and the public are the cash crop that pay for it.
there's no escape because ideologies are at war, the left wing is now more right wing that the right wing, they control all free speech in a way the right would never control it, they seduce us with there friendly terminology, a newspeak for the dumbed down university clones, growth, sustainability, eco friendly, all these terms have been appropriated from the context of origin, agenda 21 is being ushered in through the backdoor of local councils, it's moving rapidly by stealth and subterfuge and the public are asleep or brain dead zombies carrying out their orders because they no longer have the capacity to think for themselves, it's why sarah handsome young would cry and sob about dead people drowning as they try to get to australia but shout in anger as the government attempt to stop that happening, hypocrites media manipulators, liars and thief's, australian polotics has never sunk so low, kevin dudd may be appeal to the youth but lets face it, a youth fed on a diet of australia has talent, big brother, coke, beer and meat, and tweeting, yeah i see why it all makes sense for them, friendly kev will save us from nasty tony, meanwhile they and their grandchildren will be living of the state, dependant and jobless as big brother takes over. big govt. big population. big deal, these big things are not the way for australia to act rationally or reasonably when we have more homeless people, children that ever, more mental health issues, poverty and hospital queues.
what's the answer, withdraw from the united fucking nations swiftly, get our own country sorted out and self sufficient and raise us out from debt, fuck the globalist agenda, it was a great idea in theory but it's run by a bunch of quasi fascist socialists and they don't have our interests at heart, do they?
well i'm lucky, i was born in london, educated by skool and my own investigations, university of life. i could have been born in iran a gay progressive fleeing the nut case religious leaders and living a secret life, barely able to have a quality of life, living in fear, why wouldn't i want to come to australia. i would.
but the issue is not about coming to australia, that will not solve the problem, what needs to occur is a good investigation into these countries and instead of adopting a politically correct, cultural relative position we should start calling these cultures what they are.
barbaric.
its no good invading these places and setting up proxy dictators run by the west either, what is necessary is to swap aid for reasonability in culture.
it is not okay to stone women!
it is not okay to marginalise gay and lesbians?
it is not okay to bomb civilians, by drone or a stick of dynamite strapped to your head.
it is not okay to have 1% of the wealth kept by the ruling elite.
it is not okay to brainwash children with hateful ideology.
it is not okay to use religion over peoples free will?
it is not okay to wage war!
if people in these countries had the support of the western governments they would not have to leave in the first place. all they want is they type of freedom we aspire to, although being in debt is far from being free.
as far as the western world goes we have to stop waging war on ourselves, the governments of the western world need prosecuting, they no longer represent the populations that vote for them. they follow secret agendas, they betray good citizens like bradley manning and the chap in russia, they need to come clean and start again. the world requires and enema, flush out the things that no longer work, lets get back to basic values first, then we can talk civilisation.
let me be honest here, it hurts to know children die awful deaths just because they want to reach australia and i believe there's plenty of room for these people, however i know there's a root cause of the problem and it lies in brutality and cruel governments, western or otherwise.
i'm reminded of that magazine, 'song shot by both sides.'
if the governments of the world really cared and wanted to help refugees it would start asking why these people are running. they run from fear.
people fear their governments, that's the number one global problem that needs fixing.
Thursday, August 01, 2013
slowly, day by day captain mission climbs out of credit card debt, it's going to take a few more months but i'm getting closer, and once it's done, that's it, my card gets chopped up and snorted up a bankers nose as long as i don't ever have to see it again. it did save me when i needed some cash but i can't allow myself to be in debt, it makes my head hurt, eating away like some cannibalistic concept, munching on my fucking mind.
anyway's i'm slowly getting there but there will be no holidays, no extra books, cds and dvds, no treats for me, unless it's the church related treat, i have to have something to feed my spirit, fortunately i have a vast collection of unread novels i am working my way through.
i just finished the expanse trilogy, old school space opera stuff with fantastic characters, cracking dialogue and an interesting page turning story that moves along at quiet a pace. kept me outta trouble for a few weeks, i've just started andrew pypers 'lost girls' which so far is brilliant, not sure what genre it is, but it could be a courtroom drama type thing although the prologue seemed like a southern gothic novel, intriguing.
anyway's i'm slowly getting there but there will be no holidays, no extra books, cds and dvds, no treats for me, unless it's the church related treat, i have to have something to feed my spirit, fortunately i have a vast collection of unread novels i am working my way through.
i just finished the expanse trilogy, old school space opera stuff with fantastic characters, cracking dialogue and an interesting page turning story that moves along at quiet a pace. kept me outta trouble for a few weeks, i've just started andrew pypers 'lost girls' which so far is brilliant, not sure what genre it is, but it could be a courtroom drama type thing although the prologue seemed like a southern gothic novel, intriguing.
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