far out corporation - don't blame the beam

find out what your super power is. use magick or science, phycology or read entrails, what ever you use, find out your true will. 
align yourself with the sun, be it the one that hangs in space feeding us all with light or the metaphor of light, something that is a divinity. you can do this by spending a lot of time healing and living on your own, eventually you strip away all the false ego's and masks, eventually you reach a point of love, and access your holy guardian angel or augoeides or quantum uncertainty, which is indeed a creative force. 
you can also do this unconsciously, but the other element of your psyche should remain conscious enough to know what you 
1. love
2. when time no longer exists or you no longer exists
(hav't decided on that one therefore ...
...#3. when you no longer exist.
these are keys that open the door.

pouring out my head the time leak continues, missing fragments from the past and future seem to pump out endlessly, memories in future tense, ha, what a great line that is, i wish it were mine but it does describe my brains processes. i just wish i could tell my future memories from the past but my sequencer is on the blink.
that's why i had to hack my brain, rewire the thing with some new wetware, upgrade the operating system with some shamanistic voodoo. yeah come on, what would you do, sit there letting everything leak out till you are empty, that's one kind of death. me i tried the medical model and it just made me worse, those pills they gave me split my brain into two distinct areas in conflict, my rational mind needed defeating. some dmt, a lot of vine did the trick, i was just in the right place at the right time. 
okay, that's not true, we know the vine works in mysterious ways, it sought me out and i came to the party, never look back. the memory leak is just time dissolving, i get it now, it's time breaking down from it's linear flow. i always fucked with time so the process was second nature, i just let intuition guide me, it seemed to kick in when i had that head injury, i mean really kick in. i know things no one should really know, i know nothing.
  

5 am i wake up and drive down to the beach, the suns coming up but it's obscured by clouds, light barely penetrates the thick layer hanging low, i pull up at the beach watching the angry waves. there's no surf for me this morning, it's messy and dark, under currents forge deadly one way pathways, no one else is out. i fall asleep for a while, must have dozed off listening to the ocean roar. 
i grab a coffee (decaf) and drive back home into an electrical storm, lightning splits the horizon in two, the elements uncaged today, pounding rain begins to fall. 
at mission control i'm greeted by my water dragon, he looks forlorn sitting on the tiny wooden bridge getting wet in all the rain. i say hello and check pan in the back, his back legs have been playing up and he's been miserable the last few days, he's happy to see me. 
later the trees start swaying violently as the wind comes sweeping through the bushland, it's a almost howling like a gothic movie, branches start to fall, huge logs plummet down and suddenly debris fills the lawn. only yesterday i spend most of the day clearing it, working in the bloody garden and today it looks wild, that's the way it is i guess, gardens consume your time but they also heal you and offer you something in return, i look out at my balinese plants, the tiger grass i planted a few weeks ago is getting larger, the palms seem happy and the ferns all look healthy and well manicured. a log falls by my feet, it could have knocked me out easy, a fraction to the left, the thump is loud. i stand there wondering about the trees that surround me, how they must exist in this tension with gravity. when the rain comes i run inside.

beautiful!
there are things in this world that are simply beautiful and the lady that makes my smoothies is that. 
i really could get so lost in her i'd never find my way out, she would be my muse for lifetimes and we would be wrapped in eternity forever bound to one another and yet simultaneously free. is that ridiculous? i don't know, it makes sense to me, she may think it's ridiculous when i mention it one morning in the near future, come on, sooner or later i have to break through the spell and actually talk to her but for the moment i'm really enjoying her energy and the way it drives me, she really is neptune's daughter and neptune did offer me one when i was surfing one morning.
but this morning she was wearing a tee shirt that said, 'i'm no wifey' this morning and i read it and thought that's great, for i was mighty worried she was a wife to some lucky guy or gal.
well it was a beautiful smoothie, i like a good banana and dates with you.
a god and goddesses daughter. 

Unguarded Moments - The Greatest Guitar Band on Earth from Unguarded Moments on Vimeo.

imagine influencing people enough to make them pay homage to you in their own artistic and creative way, (these guys are young) leaving such an impression counts more than anything i reckon, more than awards maybe, more than any fleeting fame. here is a new generation passing on the message and i love it.

i had a memory download the other day, i don't know, i lost a lot of stuff when i had my brain injury and i still feel somewhat at odds with the way my brain works, completely out of whack with my mouth, i think something but say something else, it's so weird. even when words come out there's an internal narrative that is saying, 'what the fuck are you saying mission, that's not even correct.'

i don't know that frontal lobe blow was pretty severe, maybe i never recovered properly, i just smoked a shit load of weed and drunk buckets of amazonian shamanic vine until my head cracked open and i saw the fucking light. 

that's my story anyway, maybe my mouth has to catch up.

any sane man would have gone to some doctor and had an operation, nope not me, i just had to walk right through that transcendental door and down the rabbit hole. 

but you know what? that's the way the cards fell and i think they were all aces, or are they jokers, ha, you decide.

from my perspective i managed to do a few things i never dreamed were possible, and i changed my brain fundamentally in a way beyond neuroscience and prehistoric plasticity could, and apparently that's cutting edge.
my memory download - america. driving cars down the free way into the setting sun, travelling with sarah and that straight guy we corrupted, hanging out with those gay guys who took us to a gay cowboy bar, i was stoned out of my skull as we drove down a spiral mountain road smoking grass listening to reggae. when we got to the bar i felt some kind of culture shock, it took me a few drinks to get comfortable, i ended up having a great night, we were in virginia or carolina, the sun was glorious, the night stars filled the skies, i liked the wide open space, i liked the people, i'd already fallen in love with america but that was the first time i felt free. i could have done anything i wanted, i had a girl in london, sally, i was detaching, not just from her but from london, from everything i knew, london was way behind me, i was hungry for new experiences and the romance of the american road held me captaive, i'd read so many american writers, hunter s thompson, william burroughs, jack, ginsberg, woolfe,their words were already in my dna. 
then that band came to my mind, a band i listened to on cassette around the states in that car, 'box of frogs' who were actually 'the yarbirds' reformed. 
that was the memory.  

blank canvass blues, it's already got a black coat which i spayed upon it while creating a sigil, i can't quite recall the intent but i do know it worked but that was a few years ago. my intent is to just to paint a sun. im not sure what style it would take, but i want a sun on a canvass to hang in my lounge.
a moon to but that will be later, on a different canvass.
i'm hoping the colour of my son will be a bright orange reddish white, much like the photographs nasa take, i want to capture the energy. that's the will of this painting, let's see how close i can get.

in every art, conflicts arise, it's the way, the process is about wrestling with your own tension, stretching those muscles and tendons, massaging the skin within, undoing entanglements and knots, because you may not even know it but you are reaching for a zen point. zen man, everything else dissipates, hunger, anger, ego, pride, shame, you just work right through that, leaving a trail of words or paintings or whatever it is, you just push and push it all out, until zen.
in zen there's nothing else but the perfect thought and its expression, the principle all artists want to reach i think.
i work with the idea everything is not real, not what it actually is, the only way we can understand it or glimpse it is within a magickal framework. 
magick is a process like art, it's about creation, expression and action and the relationship between them. one can get stuck in the details but it really is all focused on directing ones will. 
be careful what you will for is all i have to say about that, i think the best magickians and artists are the ones whom put their craft above their desires, because the desire becomes the intention and whatever currents are running leak out, i find it best to desire nothing, no outcome, no expectation, in fact forget the spell you just cast, forget it by not remembering it, thats why sigils were invented, a subconscious tool.
art is magick and magick is art!

my day off comes to me, early morning i plant some seeds in the dawn sunlight, five is a good number i think as i carefully work earth fertility, grow tiny ones grow, i love you very deeply, grow and bloom and spread love through the kingdom.
it's quite the blissful way to start the day.
next stop i'm working with the hound pan whom requires some play and nutrition, so we chase the frisbee but he's not caring himself as well as i am, he's getting older while i seem to get younger, forgetting more and more in my tiny gigantic universe where less is really more, i sweep the decks, hoist the sail and welcome the day, and here comes the electrician, we don't speak much, i jump online and write to a friend, a new friend in canada, and canada never looked so beautiful as it does now.
grace by name grace by nature, i make good friends.
well i'm in some strange be bop hip priest mode today. my friend chris comes over to assist with some plumbing, and chris is one of those people who is just a fine man, he's a great guy, a surfer. i'm a fin man, he's a board rider.
we know one another quite well, and he fixes up my leak. as he leaves on a sexy harley i give him some cake, it's a pretty basic one but i'm grateful that he came over and helped me out. 
then the electrician finishes up and my power returns,
some more net time and then garden. yeah gardening is a good thing, i totally love it especially at night. but as i'm looking down upon my ferns and palms i think about my friend evan and how much i miss him. when i think about tim, dr. crack to you, i feel okay, it don't feel like it did.
that's a good thing, it means i am healing.

my book is available in kindle form here on amazon,

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Adventures-Of-Captain-Mission-Mission-ebook/dp/B00GLFBJZ8/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1384155618&sr=1-1

the nightmare paintings meets the day dream writings. old captain mission finds his way to the gallery, opening night, parks right outside and strolls in to the corridor where collective 777 have some paintings based around the abbey at thelema, two of which are outstanding, the artist is michelle nolte.
the main room hosts a collection of crowleys artwork which robert burratti has put together. i chat with robert about some of the art and he is a really sound guy. he tells me he's putting together a collection of esoteric artwork and i mention the work of australian artist steve kilbey, robert seems keen.
the first thing i noticed was the music, it was brilliant and reminded me of the guilt trip cds, so i asked who it was, jeff martin wrote it for the exhibition specially, the jim morrison clone from the tea party. it's brilliant music, perfect for this exhibition. the room starts to fill up so i stroll around soaking up the paintings, yeah yeah yeah, some are magickal you can see that, the three from the tarot stand out as being quite different, the cock and the serpent the most sexually suggestive and when the head of the oto steps in to introduce crowley as a man who would have hated the nanny state and big government, sticking it to the man, he says crowley also believed magick was art. i agree, it is indeed art, the act of creation is magickal.
so the oto guy turns out to be in direct linage from ac himself, apparently there are only five people on earth who can claim that.
he tells us that crowley stood in front of the canvass and waited for the will of the painting to manifest, embedding some of his greatest ideas in them as words couldn't contain the symbolic information, he requested that we just look at them, each one of us will find something, he was right, i found anya an artist herself standing outside with her people, we chatted a bit and she looked pretty good in the fading light but time was running away, it had been a huge week. 
a few days earlier i saw steve kilbey  play with strings and the hoffmenn. what a joy that was, inspired setlist revamped mixture of songs, mostly sounding fresh and revitalised. it was a great night and fittingly these two influential individuals should come together in a celebration of art. i hope robert has a good look at steve's work, i think he'd be really impressed. 
over the years several oto people had attempted to recruit me, but i'm actually not into group magick, it's like group sex really, somethings are just close to the heart, however i guess there is a sound base in energy increasing via numbers, however i seem to generate enough on my own if i synchronise with the moon. nope magickal orders and their rituals are not for me, i come from the same tradition that grouch did, any club that would have me for a member is not worth joining. ha! pook is here.
great paintings, well worth the trip.

nocturnal times have come, sweeping down upon my girl, she lay's in dream zone winter land, where time is
frozen and only the ghosts of future memories visit.
she knows nothing of this, her dreams are the cotton wooly images of infancy, safe and soothing, like a mothers hands upon a child in cot, touching the surface of skin lightly, just enough to not know. 
above her head, some halo shimmers, cast there by her pure intent for when she wakes she will be lost and the band of light begone.

the mysterious place, some point you know is somewhere, out, in. one day you will get there, looking for atlantis, underneath the oceans, spinning like a satellite in space, alone. 
future memories in a floating world, like a luxury blimp filled with helium five on it's way to the dream archipelago with strange travelling companions, some dressed in fine satins and velvets, others in animal skins, you talk some small talk with an elegant radiant giraffe dressed up like louis the fourteenth, it's absurd, some one must have slipped a mickey in the drink, absinth make the art glow yonder, you smile to yourself, sip down the rest and wander over to the garden, gazing out from that window at the cloud bed, gazing out at the light bounce, that curious architecture, some kind of melancholia is lurking but before it grabs hold a woman slides across the room out of the hordes and looks out from the window, you glance at her, she's a tight package of cuteness, dressed in simple jeans and an anarchy tee shirt, wearing a baseball hat, she says, 'we are on top of the world.'
'how do you know, maybe we are not at the bottom of the world.'
she smiles, 'you a comedian?'
'nope, i'm a writer of funny stories.'
'jokes?'
'maybe.'
'you are peculiar, where are you from?'
i sighed,'atlantis.' there was no escaping this conversation was already depressingly inevitable so i added, 'where are you from? you look like you live in a big city?'
'i live on a boat, it's down there somewhere.'
'up there?'
'down, up, i don't know, it's somewhere. i was invited here by the clown, have you seen him?'
'yes he's the one with the red shoes, and make up, i'm not really into clowns.'
'he's a very tragic character, always sobbing and wailing, cry's himself to sleep every night.'
'yeah well that's the archetype clown isn't it?'
'i guess so, sad.'
'well we don't have to be, we can be happy.'
'really, can you just be happy?'
'i don't know, i guess so, i think if you can be sad you can be happy, it's just a flexibility on what you focus your thoughts on.'
'there's so much sadness in this world.'
'there's joy to.'
'yes but how can you be happy when some one else is sad.'
'that's their business.'
'that's not very empathetic for a writer?'
'i have many faults. what colour is your boat?'
'white.'
'just white, what's it's name?'
'guess?'
'mmm well is it called... zephyr?'
'ha! no but that's insanely close.'
'it's sea breeze.'
'how did you know that?'
'odds are it's either a womans name or something to do with the wind.'
'wow, i'm impressed.'
'just a lucky guess really.'
'well i better find the clown now.'
i knew i should have worn the red nose.

plastic drops falling from big macs and hungry burgers, dead cow fat juice, young baby animal burger please, i'll take two for my children and we would like the horse hoof pudding as well, yeah animals are ours to use, we are the kings of the jungle right, it's our domain although animals eat animals, the lion would eat us, especially if we were filled with cow meat, would they eat a vegan, no apparently they spit them out. i've thought about becoming a vegan, i can't commit to the process totally, i think it's a good philosophy only i don't like the absolution of it, i like a nibble on a cheese melt, occasionally i have to eat fish. i'm always grateful but it's not good enough is it, my grace didn't do the fish any good, but them plants have life to, i'm very aware of this, plants have a super intelligence, is it okay to kill a plant. all life has some intelligence or consciousness. i'm certain some have more than others. what's the best diet, i think the best diet is to do your best to be aware that your life is given by other life, integrated eating. when i was a total vegetarian i heard a hunter talking, he said, 'i hunt my meat, i don't go into a supermarket and buy some slab of meat that's been killed industrially. hunting gives me an appreciation of the process, it's honourable, i eat my meat with a sense of gratitude for life, not a clinical detachment.'
this made sense to me, i respected this hunter despite my inclination to dislike him. 
however i couldn't take a life of anything, i tried but it don't work. even cockroaches at mission control get swept up in a plastic container and chucked out.

science fiction is the realm of the imagination, it's the most subversive genre when done right, there are no boundaries, speculation can extend into all known areas. the best science fiction however deals with humanity, is based upon human endeavours, issues and narrative, and even if 'human' is trans-human the best science fiction contemplates some element of human experience. 

i'm particularly fond of science fiction which deals with religion, spirituality or the numinous because so much of the religious experience is reflected with extra terrestrial contact.

i've just finished re reading the 'book of enoch' the translation from the ethiopian, and here it is the book they didn't want you to see. those crafty men who made up the council of nicaea didn't want people knowing to much about the beings that came to earth. the war in heaven is such a great science fiction story, wow, the nephilim and their human wives, the ascensions, some of the descriptions in the old testament clearly indicate alien interaction with human beings, along with the plant medicine vision. my take is that the shaman or wise men or high priests at the time used a lot of plant medicines, then in their visions they read the future, like a dream state. chariots of fire, ladders to heaven, conversations with god, wow, let's face it these cats were tripping on some potent syrian rue and using language to describe things they had not ever seen, things there was no words for, thus the descriptions so wild. but one thing is certain, the judgement of man by some power greater than man, this is the whole focal point on which the monotheic religions spin, that the the sky god will judge us for our actions, that there are rules to living and that duality splits the brain. 

which is why i tend to verge on the pantheist world-view, the world is neither good or bad, it simply is beautiful and wondrous. human beings may behave badly or immorally but they are flawed, and they need to work out their failings, align themselves with creation of perish. all acts of creation should be dedicated to the universe as acts of devotion. 
all intelligent life should see every action as a devotion to this principle, and in turn every breath becomes sacred and holy. 

late surf, sun blasted terrigal swarming with people but the oceans are empty save for a few, the waves are choppy, not conducive to surfing with my fin but in i go, splashing through the currents.
later i pass through the cafe where the elegant mysterious woman whom i feel so strangely in awe of awaits, not for me alas, she's busy with everyone and as i sip on my date and banana smoothie i contemplate the passing possibilities.
she moves like a gazelle, motion soft and articulated with the grace of a feminine myth. she smiles like a star spreading some serenity just by existing, giving live and sustenance, and i guess all i can do is soak it up and be grateful for beauty in the world. is that wrong, i feel like a voyeur but i can't deny myself the simple pleasure of such divinity. her husband may punch me in the head, her fiance may challenge me in a dual, her partner may just assault me with some barbarian slang but i am just a rabbit in her headlights, how pathetic, old captain mission, man of words and spontaneous flirtation with random women can't even speak. how bizarre that my mind offers billions of conversational realities, branching out into trillions of possibilities yet in this one i'm dumbstruck.
the irony.
one day i'll invite her to sit down and just blurt out  how beautiful i think she is and ask for her story, i'll make her laugh and she would see i'm a safe kinda guy, no expectations, no conditions, no irrational fear, which is ironic because she offers this safety, it's part of her energy. oh i tell ya, she's pretty awesome, what a muse she would make, the embodiment of the goddess, it would make me the most humble man on earth.

big day, big night, lot's of activity, lot's of coming and going as lilly my friend leaves for distant shores, her bags packed, cat being picked up and we load up her car. 
to be honest i'm glad to have the place back for myself, i do like my solitude and my obsessions.
change is in the air, i can smell it, very healthy change as i shed my bulk, feel my bones harden, blood clean and mind agile and flexible enough to practice my yogas and disciplines. 
i think my book will be out soon, i did a final edit with my people in the uk, and it's good, they even knocked up a new cover so hopefully on 11th of november it will be available.

who do you think you are, space chick, popped up into my space pod like a naughty err space chick, an astronaut's companion through the realms. you're no fairy, you're no elf, you're just pure bad in a good way. i liked that way, it was filled with potential for magick to happen, a portal opened we passed through it and it i'm not sure what happened, despite my appearance of detachment, i'm very detached, it's a discipline, but that should never be mistaken for indifference. i'm both connected and unearthed, i'm the holy fucking spirit in drag and i'm  going to eat you up and probably swallow you into my digestive system because that's nature, and nature is sexy when it comes to creating things. 
i saw her inside you, behind your eyes, all bursting to manifest, i'm the one who can bring it out but i'm also the one who can let it go. that's the dilemma, i let it go before it lets me go, and i have no idea if that's a form of self destruction or something beautiful.
what do you think?

while i am not a christian i am certainly convinced peter hitchens the brother of the late christopher proved himself to be the second greatest mind i have seen on the q and a panel, after his brother whom i saw live as an audience member with my brother years ago.
while the panel mostly composed of ideological idiots the abc loves to fawn over and tony james loves to defend, hitchens out classed all of them and delivered his final words with the gravitas of an executioner, not only short circuiting his rude, aggressive, ungracious moronic co panellists but also the audience whom were equally as brain dead.
here's some of the transcript, tony jones asks everyone to present their dangerous idea.

TONY JONES: Peter?

PETER HITCHENS: The most dangerous idea in human history and philosophy remains the belief that Jesus Christ was the son of God and rose from the dead and that is the most dangerous idea you will ever encounter. 

DAN SAVAGE: I’d have to agree with that. 

TONY JONES: Just quickly, because I think you can't really leave it there, why dangerous? 

PETER HITCHENS: I can't really leave it there? Because it alters the whole of human behaviour and all our responsibilities. It turns the universe from a meaningless chaos into a designed place in which there is justice and there is hope and, therefore, we all have a duty to discover the nature of that justice and work towards that hope. It alters us all. If we reject It, it alters us all was well. It is incredibly dangerous. It's why so many people turn against it. 

now the moronic nasty savage was not expecting this, he was dumbstruck because he wanted to knock christianity for it's sins. 
hitchens was vilified for his comments throughout the show, he was interrupted continually, not allowed to comment and basically bullied as the token fall guy.
read the whole transcript, hear what he says, and understand his truth is the truth, even the audience should be ashamed and here's what hitchens said when they hissed and screamed while he spoke.

PETER HITCHENS: While you do this – while you do this I can't talk. While you do that – while you do that I can’t talk and you know it and that's to your – and that’s to your shame because silencing opponents is a very wicked thing to want to do. 






  

a portrait

me, as the sun, 
with my moon powered zap gun
surrounded by waves
my multiple faces
a major arcana
old gods and new
my jewelled third eye
the pineal crystal
atlantan coloured citadels
stand either side 
turquoise and aquamarine
vine wound around feet and ankles
dna symbol unwound
one hand holds a star
the other the flaming eye

lou reed - satellite of love