un-imagine your best waves, re imagine the perfect one, make it much better, give it lucid dream like qualities, quantum significance and multi dimensional wormhole access and that was the surf at terrible beach yesterday, early morning rolled in over sleepy town. i drove back on mighty high, hot morning sun at my side, window rolled down sunroof and all the whistles and bells of central coasting and as i pulled up the drive my car, the trusty old subaru outback began to make an awful racket. the gears seized and i find myself public transporting myself to work, buses and trains.  
it's wilde childe that saves me in the dead of night post transport she offers to drive me home, therefore an act of christmas kindness is bestowed upon me, and let me tell you, i feel very blessed.
there's no one really left for me to count on, no friends close by i can trust have my interest at heart, no family to depend upon but wilde childe stepped up, my saviour and who indeed may be the saviour of the human race. 

xmas is always a lonely time for me, so over the last few years i spend it with lonely people, which makes it kinda special. but i feel cynical sometimes about the commercial aspects of it all. it's a festival of consumption, consumerism and capitalism at it's worst and there's something horribly corrupt with it when people are miserable. and there's far to many miserable people on earth, most with good reason. if it's not politics its religion that enslaves. 
i give up with all of them, none of them can help us. it's up to us as individuals to save ourselves by saving some one who can't. help them, assist them, care for them acknowledge, understand and love them. 
until everybody must get saved. i guess that's my idea of jesus, a man who saved other's and sacrificed his own self. it's mythological, through the eons. a pattern at the heart of all things where man is at war with himself. there's that fantastic story by andy weir where he writes that all individuals in the universe are you, the individual in different incarnations, living out their life. we are not all the same, we are the same. i often wonder how long it will take before we get there, that ideas end point, where everyone is conscious in their own universe. does it extend to all animal life and was i living the life of my lizard?
i'm not really at that endpoint if that is indeed the universe i live in. i'm so far away but i try hard anyway even if it's just some idea. it's not because i believe in it, it just is not a bad idea.    

i'm awake at dawn rolling towards the surf, the sun penetrates the day and things are looking good on the beach. no one's there save for the hardcore water people, a man and his dog, a couple of joggers and some hungover homeless person sleeping it off on the bench.
i take the waves, they are big, two meters of low energy, to fat to carry me anywhere far but it's beautifully invigorating. the water crystal clear the sun now beating away any clouds, the ocean wraps itself around me like liquid light from liquid sky,my flesh dissolves, my etheric body spills out and i am everywhere and nowhere, i'm mission in the sun, mission on the beach, i am mission without borders, mission incomplete, i am mission unto thee, mission in the sea, i am mission to every atom as far as the eye can see. 
the contraction into the self, like rubber band yoga, i summon the dawn, suck the light up like a sponge.
these early morning surfs are the best way to start the day. 
my blue fin, aquatic bliss technology, i consider it's curves like i would a woman, longingly besotted, awestruck by beauty. my fin is my god. the waves may explode over me, smashing forth foam and turbulence, white wash the crash and tumble, the explosion of light, the loss of dimension. all is equal in the wave, but when the stars align and i am stateless in zen, i am the wave, i am alive, i breath, i have direction, magnitude and velocity, i am quantum physics. i am an ocean.  

xmas eve, holographic kid and me pushing through the maddening crowds of aggravated shoppers, everyone on edge in the shopping mall madness, like an exotic fever western consumerism goes start raving mad this time of year. i'm attempting to get to the bank before they close their doors, i hate my bank. don't take it personally i say to the smug cashier, i hate all banks equally. i'm democratic in my hatred for banks as i am for my hatred of lawyers and pharmaceutical products.

'would you like to increase your credit limit mr. mission?'

'yeah increase it to a trillion dollars please'

nervously, 'oh i better get the manager.'

i'm the last customer of the day, these mindless morons want me out so they can go to the pub and shag the assistant manager. they want the xmas party i want a trillion limit on my card.

an executive in a pencil skirt wanders out from behind a glass screen and her grey terminal.

'what seems to be the problem mr. mission.'

i have to take a breath. 'after making my enquiry as to the status of my account your delightful cashier here asked me if i wanted to increase my credit limit, to which i said yes, i'd like to increase it to a trillion dollars thank you.'

a laugh escapes her thin lips, 'i'm sorry mr. mission, we are not authorised to offer you a million, let alone a trillion dollars.'

'why make an offer if you can't.'

'well i think cheryl was just suggesting a small increase.'

'i want a trillion dollar limit so i can actually do something constructive with it, like invest in medicinal marijuana or buy a submarine.'

the holographic kid laughs, and then catches my serious disapproving glance.

'look mr. mission the bank is closing, do you want to return on monday morning, i can speak with you personally.'

'no, i'm here now speaking to you personally. get on the phone and start the process, a trillion, no more no less. think of it as a business investment.'

'but the interest would be huge, how would you manage?'

'well i wouldn't. there would be no interest because it don't exist does it. it's just a digital zero and one, no value whatsoever, a symbolic representation.'

'look mr. mission, we can't give you a trillion dollar limit. now i'm going to ask you to leave.'

the staff are looking edgy, i'm keeping them from their party. 

'right well next time don't ask me a loaded question, do i really want to get even more in debt to a bank? what kind of question is that, it's like saying would you like your tumour to grow larger. do you think that's responsible, good practice. really? do you?'

cheryl and the executive look stunned, they don't know what to say, the holographic kid tugs at my shirt, pulling me towards the door.

we exit.

'what the fuck happened in there?'

'brain snap hk brain snap!'

  

 

the summer peaks, the sensual rays, the effortless breach of the great whale. i race to the water, leaping over the washed up weed and the crusted debris, over the layer of flies that hover, into the washing machine chop, dive past the unfurling wave, under the crash and fractal arm, surface from the big blue wet into the big blue dry and all is glory. this is my kingdom, a surfers paradise.

i put a shell to my ear, in the hope i would gleam some information for my non logical non linear, non rational receiver. i listened hard. there was a splatter of feedback, my own neurones flickering away, the ear canals tidal waves, the friction of the breeze, the fiction of my imagination. 
i was looking at the waves, they rolled in pounding relentlessly, i enjoyed the intermittent crash and the whoosh as they sucked themselves back into the body of the sea. 
it was early morning. i do that now, get up very early and take myself down, sometimes the moon is sinking behind me, the sun casting it's blazing light upon me and some fishing men.
the dawn and dusk are good for my kind of magick. 
the dawn has it's own qualities, it's powering up time. 
the dusk powering down.
must be the taoist nature in me, tuning in to frequencies in the greater spirit of this universe, the natural one.
man has a place but has to learn what it is and where he belongs.
it's not in conquering, it's not in some intellectual endeavour, how can it be. it's in the 8th division sky place.
coming back to that point we reset ourselves. it's holy, it's the point where as above so below meet and unite in harmony. 
suddenly the wind stops and my inner emanations cease, i enter the zone, my mind is gone, dissolved blown apart, unnecessary.
i see the forces compete. 
i see them all fail.
i see civilisations aspire to stars only to become dust.
i see it all.
the voice says, 'let there be light!'
it's not in a sea shell but from a sea shell, it's from a rams horn, it's from a beating babies heart, it's from a flowers bloom and an sunflowers spin, it's from a reptiles skin to a bumble bees buzz.
i put down the shell gently. 
the waves crash, the beach attracts it's followers, the shops behind me start to wind up for the day, bread bakes, toast pops out from toasters, coffee pours, newspapers are read, people start cars wait for buses and start moving from one point to another. the sun has risen, the moon sinks over the horizon. everything is illuminated.
  

events conspire, random access generator puts me in a new landscape where natives are friendly. respite for two days before a new battle with solicitors, barristers and a nasty ex manager looking for revenge. another day at the office. no wonder the mentally ill have mental illness, what the fuck is all this?

anyway's onwards i journey through thick and thin, through the soils of conflict and the spoils of war. my shoulder throbs with an acute injury from surf, my garden is filling with weeds, my dog is upsetting the neighbour watch with nocturnal prowling and raids. 
'well don't put fucking sausages in the wheelie bin.'

the sun comes up, late afternoon, no mojo for shopping mall, the silly season up at the kwiki mart is the violent and aggressive season as people go to war over car spots, queues double back upon themselves and nerves are frayed.
i did manage to catch the film, 'the man from coxs river' made by russell and amy. it's been getting loads of praise and selling out at the independent cinemas, i wanted to see it months ago but never managed. it's really good, really good. and i think it's a great xmas present for australians to send to people overseas. it captures the australian spirit that i love plus it's not a surfing movie. everyone's sick of me sending surf movies so this may be a welcome surprise.

what can you say about the events in sydney.

i was at that coffee shop a week ago, 9am with a client about to meet a barrister, my head in the paper while my client was looking at all the different chocolates on display.

it was nondescript, expensive place i thought, indulgence for the city folk. 

all it takes is some islamic nut job with a grudge and an isis flag to bring the city to its knees, 'under siege' they said. 

instead of one single kill shot the police waited it out, media swarmed. outside hundreds of social media idiots took photographs of themselves, the politicians made speeches wondering what this person wanted although to me it was obvious.

if you go into a place and take hostages with a gun and a black flag you are not protesting about the fracking issue in the nsw countryside, but what do i know. 

so instead of killing the guy, the tactical response people waited around until it was dark, then they stormed in after hearing a shot and people got killed and injured.

the next day every one ignores the islamic angle, and focuses on being friends with muslims in the community by creating twitter feeds and hash tags to support them. admirable but foolish, i mean apart from the idiot bogon on a bus who shouts abuse anyway? 

there's never a community backlash. i mean the community in australia are pretty decent as it happens. 

an experiment ran by sydney university hoping to expose the racist  australian public backfired a month ago. the student dressed in a hijab was insulted by actors, while the film crew waited to see what these horrible australian racists would do. how disappointed when every random passerby they tested actually intervened in defence of the hijab wearing student. how very unfortunate for those who who like divisive attitudes to fit a narrow group think. 

i wonder what the taliban must think of these hash taggers when they went into a pakistani skool and massacred the children deliberately without mercy this morning i wonder what the boko hiram nut-jobs think when feminists decide to start a tweet campaign for a week 'bring back our girls.'

'whose girls are they now mrs obama?'

i wonder what happens when people pour out their compassion for the perpetrators instead of the victim. i'm no expert in human behaviour but i imagine it just encourages more nonsense from nut-jobs with a cause. manufactured compassion is the driving force behind social media, it's dangerous and dumb. it's so far removed from compassion it's become obvious to almost everyone outside the group think mind.

update- someone informed me that the police didn't shoot him due to the fact he had explosives in his bag. i guess that's fair enough, but they still went in shooting, so there's a inescapable paradox here. another point raised was the police have various legal procedural issues that hold them accountable for mistakes, which is another good point. this is why the hostages end up challenging the kidnappers usually, which is what seemed to have happened inside the cafe leading to the climax. 
if this is the case one must ask the questions why have a police force anyway?
to fine speeding drivers?
i don't know what the answer is but everyone seems complicit in these situations and everyone is a victim, including the muslim community who are reasonable good natured citizens. 
there should be a way out, a way for all people to just start again but we seem trapped in this weird fundamentalist war that spirals around us all dragging us all into the vortex, dimensions become confused, right and wrong are suddenly wrong and right depending on your point of reference. humanity has to come up with an elegant solution to this one but the enemy from where i am is not interested in solutions. this springs to mind:



some men just want to watch the world burn.

     

she's snapping her fingers in front of my eyes, i seem to emerge into myself, environment shock runs down my spine, i seem a little unnerved, my eyes scan, brain computing at quantum speed, 'spyders, how did i get back here?'
misty's fingers stop dancing in front of my face and she gives me an ambiguous look, 'flow baby, you took a hit, what do you think?'
the empty vial lays on the table.
'how long was i out?'
'no time, in flow. it's instantaneous, from where i was it was a blink of an eye.'
'what's the neurological profile on this stuff?'
'baby i'm just the saleswoman, but, i've heard stories.'
'you better elaborate on that because i just had an experience.'
'did you meet the minotaur?'
'geoffrey, yes, yes i did, in a bar.'
'and he made you a drink correct?'
'yeah, how do you know that?'
'it's the space flow takes you, a shared experience by all users, they meet the minotaur, in le bar inn.'
'i was with...' i search through the haze towards the bar, 'her.'
'that's because i sold her a vial to, she must have had a hit the same time you did.'
'but we...'
'look the intricacies are unknown, all i know is that flow-ers reach this le bar inn and meet geoffrey. i don't touch the stuff so i wouldn't have experience first hand. anyway, i have two vials left, do you want them?'
'yeah, i'll take both of them.'
misty leaves two glass vials in my palm and i watch her leave once more. i wait until she's gone and then push my way through the crowd towards the bar where audrey is mixing a drink, she turns to greet me, 'it's mission isn't it?'
'yeah audrey, it is.' 

we clambered down in silence and returned to the table, eventually she spoke.
'do you think we shared the same dream?'
'undoubtedly, you obviously had your perspective and i mine but it was the same.'
'it was very vivid captain.'
'mmm, yes sometimes my past lives are very vivid and this current one is obscured. it's like living in a fog sometimes. in the past i had purpose, this...world has very little purpose for me.'
'maybe it's just time to reflect.'
this bar is peculiar, a labyrinth, any moment we could run into a minotaur.'
audrey giggles, 'that's geoffrey's sir-name, geoff minotaur.'
'your kidding me?'
'nope.'
'is that a strange coincidence or just surreal.'
'everything about this place is surreal captain. its why i like it. it's called the le bar inn, which could be a play on labyrinth i suppose.'
'it's a magic theatre alright.'
geoffrey suddenly appears, he's wearing a ringmasters suit and carries a tray, 'i thought you both like some nibbles.'
he places a tray of dips and breads down upon our table, smiles at us both, 'enjoy, it's on the house.'
i nod my head and audrey looks excited at the avocado dip.
'i love guacamole.'
she scoops a load onto a slice of crisp bread and pops it in her mouth, 'mmm, it's beautiful.' expertly she repeats the motion and pops a piece in my mouth. she's right, it's very tasty.
in the corner a spotlight shines on a small stage and a group of musicians start playing a song, a man with wild hair shakes his head and strums some psychedelia and a singer playing base sings about the jungle.
the room starts to shimmer, shadows creep over us, and like a magicians hand waves a spread of cards we transform from a small cocktail room into the dense canopy of jungle. audrey claps her hands, but i stand and take a good 360 degree look.
the jungle is everywhere, every direction a wall of vines, tree's tower upwards and sunlight filters through, dense bush in lush deep green shade everywhere. the sound suddenly becomes deafening as my ears attempt to calibrate. all around us, everything is alive.
the both of us peer into the deep and watch as it slithers and shifts, it moves, changes constantly, the sound of teeming insects, the choir of monkeys strange bird noises, it's pouring out from the landscape. 
for a moment i loose my bearings, we can't be looking in to it, we are in it, immersed in it. swallowed up by jungle, eaten alive.
the blood pumps through my body, sweat pours out from my pores, i feel so alive as the environment consumes us.
audery takes a step forwards into the bush, she clambers over a thick brown vine, and steps into a hidden ravine, disappearing silently.
i go to follow but a vine has clutched my foot, and now it twirls up around my leg. 
i try to wrench it of with my bare hands but it's contracting like an anaconda. the huge fern above me starts to shake and something darker than i can comprehend lurks behind it, it's yellow eye's burning into me.
somehow i manage to take a few steps forwards, 'audrey, audrey, stay where you are, i'm coming.'
the vine around my leg no longer has any taut, it's just a dead vine, limp and flaccid i pull it away and move forward, brushing branches and vegetation away with my arms until i stand over the ravine. looking down i see audrey splayed out, for a moment i think she is dead, her body limp but pulsating. i edge my way closer. i grab hold of a root and swing down closer, careful not to loose my footing.
her head falls back and her mouth opens, and then i gasp. a massive purple worm emerges from her mouth, it slides out and slips away, big and fat and longer than any worm i've ever seen. it's huge, and there are hundreds of them now, sliding over her pale body, moving around inside her, making her skin pulsate from the inside. i look onwards in horror.
when her eyes open it's slow and calm and she's smiling, 'it's so beautiful, it's so fucking beautiful.'
i don't know whether to scream or smile i reach out for her hand but she just beckons me to her and i'm confused, conflicted, excited and frightened all at the same time. and then i find my fingers letting go of the vine, i feel my body falling downwards onto audrey and being caught in the strange density of worm flesh and they suddenly are upon me, millions of them. yet it's difficult to distinguish any individuals, they all seem part of a greater whole, part machine, part soft flesh devoid of temperature, creatures from another world beyond the known. i feel them penetrate my flesh yet there is no pain, i feel them eating away yet it's sensual and liberating, i open up and they swim deep into me like my body is their ocean, they devour and feast within my blood bone and flesh and i feel much lighter as i surrender to the worms that eat karma.
the jungle gives us everything. it feeds us but will eventually eat us, though every atom is reabsorbed. it nurtures us and guides us, protects and nourishes us. it's medicines are healing and terrifying and beautiful. it's ancient ways are beyond scientific comprehension. there is no language to define it, no mathematics, no symbology, only the guides know the path by intuition and fore-bearers, the map is not the territory as every explorer knows. the jungle, the jungle spills over boundaries, it does not recognise your territory as it creeps inside invading by stealth, one atom at a time or engulfing you whole, it ebbs and flows like a tide, nibbles away or tears at your flesh. you can't fight the jungle, can't escape it's influence. it's inside you, and it grows.    

and in her dreams she stood next the admiral. 
her father peered through the telescope at the black sail on the horizon. his face looked haggard after 3 years hunting the notorious victory and it's infamous captain.
'midshipman, prepare the crew for chase, they have the wind against them and we have the sun. move, all hands on deck, move!' he shouted.
the deck suddenly broke into activity as men scuttled about preforming their duties, sails were hoisted and the mighty ship suddenly picked up speed.
'father, will we catch them?'
'they have evaded three navy's for over ten years. they have stolen more gold imaginable, they spread heresy and are deemed the enemy of all mankind. these pyrates must be stopped in the name of all that's decent. you better get below daughter, it will be no place for any girl.'
'no father, i want to see these pyrates, i want to see this captain mission, i want to look into his eyes.'
the bird seemed to circle the ship, the pyrate ship victory was sitting there, the crew all sat cross legged as a figure in black read from a book, marcus aurelius. they were discussing his meditations, the captain was attempting to guide his crew through the philosophical process, logic, analytical and metaphysical truth. he was also giving discourse on eastern philosophy, and the taoist book of changes and the gita. 'one path leads to conquest of the external world, the other conquest of the internal, the west is by it's very nature trapped by it's science, for nature must yield to man, the east surrenders to the natural flow, for it knows conquering nature is folly, it is only the nature of ones own soul that can be conquered.' 
'captain,' someone shouts as they notice the sail looming up upon them. everyone rises quickly. they stare at the ship, 'it flies the jack.'
'there's no time for evasive manoeuvres, they are upon us.' the captain shares with his men, 'arm yourselves and let's see the measure of their captain.'
in the dream colours are vivid, faces hyper real, the tension rises, the senses dance like light upon the caribbean waters. the victory is tranquil, it's crew relaxed and confident, for they sail with a higher authority, around the ship dolphins leap out from the water. captain mission is feeding the macaw when the english vessel attaches itself to the victories starboard.
mission invites the admiral aboard, he arrives with two bodyguards for a soft confrontation.
'you must surrender yourself, your men and your vessel captain mission belong to the her majesties navy now.'
'we are free men, surrender is an individual choice but if i may speak for my crew i assure you they will not surrender their liberty to you.' 
'then blood will be shed.'
'you know as well as i we would be hanged upon surrender so your play is loaded. one could say corrupted for on board this vessel all are equal.'
'i am an admiral of her majesties navy, i will bring you in or sink you here.'
'you are a slave to your queen, a slave to your uniform, an ant in a hive.'
a fist swoops down hard upon the desk, the globe falls off and rolls across the floor. 'you know i was reading marcus aurelius to my men before you interrupted us, he said he who lives in harmony with himself lives in harmony with the universe. you admiral live out of harmony with the universe.'
'and you sir are a dead man.' the sword is drawn and pointed at the captains throat.
captain mission looks into the admirals eye and far away in deep space a sun sends a spiralling whip of flare out.
'you have a cancer that eats your body admiral. you are dying.'
'and before the cancer claims me i will have your head.'
'that may be so admiral but before you do, sit, drink tea with me.'
'tea?'
'a south american brew, i think you will find it quite unique.'
the admiral took a seat, he waved his hand towards his guards, 'leave us but send my daughter, and if anything should happen to us kill every one on this ship.'
'yes admiral,' they dart through the doorway, feet clomping on the wooden steps.
captain mission pours a thick liquid into a crystal glass, it's warm not hot and the admiral looks suspicious.
'it's slightly bitter but has a sweeter after taste, an acquired taste, please drink.'
the admiral picks up the glass, he sniffs the contents, 'it's unpleasant.'
mission picks his glass up and drinks it like he would a shot of rum.
'ahhhh... sweet vine, sweet vine how sweet you are.'
the admiral follows.
suddenly he leaps upwards, 'what necromancy is this!'
the captain remains seated. he watches the admiral's face flush to a red.
'relax, take some deep breaths, just relax it won't harm you at all, the tea will heal you.'
the words are spoken quietly, almost whispered yet contain an authority, 'this brew comes from within the jungle, it is something the native medicine men use for healing, it's very effective admiral.'
the admiral looks panicked but he can't move.
'i have no wish to harm you, the medicine will cure your sickness, you may be enslaved by your navy but you will be free from the cancer.
moments pass, captain mission watches the admirals face intently, he swings a bucket down upon the desk, and the admiral throws up into it. 'get it out of your body, it's okay, let it out. admiral, let it go.'
and out it comes, a discharge of thick black tar emitted in a volcanic eruption. he wipes his mouth clean and sits back, his pupils dilated, under the influence of some other intelligence.
he puts his head down upon the desk and weeps, images pass through his mind, occasionally he laughs, and sometimes he nods his head as though in conversation with an agreeable friend.
the captain reached into his drawer and pulls out a silver case, he opens it and starts to roll paper together. after a few folds, and deft lick he rolls a large cigar looking joint and strikes a match. as he exhales he hears the delicate footsteps descending.
time fractures the dream, she is surfacing now, hanging on to elements by a thread. of course, the admiral was cured, he capitulated and came to an agreement with mission, for his daughter it was love at first sight.
they sailed towards libertaria the sun sinking behind them, the captain knew there would be more ships coming, time was running out for him, it always did. but there would be many happy years before then, time to plan, time to think, time to love and maybe escape his fate.

dreams of transistor radios blasting out of fragile windows, ('lot of rock and roll,' he said.) dreams of spherical music planetary vibrations, the salvation frequency, oscillation meditation, naked truth compounds perplexing lies in a paradox of real life.
i saw the great wizard parade in the shadow of a witches serenade, songs of non- chance and casting, the beating of drums, the banging of bells, the strange chanting enchantment of tango toned guitars in secret melody with piano. i tried hard to find my voice but it was either silenced by constriction or drowned out by the presence of sound. i let the white noise engulf me, i let the illogical process distract me, i pushed my mind through the colander of reason only to find it was strained.
the mad procession of outcasts and misfits, the band of gypsies, the mighty weight of history sewn into their jackets and hats, some blew trumpets heralding...something arrives.
then the creative chaos lifted like a sea mist and i found myself in british navel quarters, 1710 dressed in my uniform about to receive my captaincy.
'lieutenant mission, it gives me great pleasure to bestow upon you her majesties blah blah blah and promote you to the rank of captain.'
that was the moment i fell into my own self, arrived at my body. they gave me a ship, a crew and a mission. but by then i was already questioning empire, questioning the crown, the law, the war and it's conquest. 
i remember now as the dreams unfolded each mystery, they wanted me to raid the spanish as we sailed not far from the coast of africa and the indies, they wanted me to sail in an unmarked ship, with a non navel crew, subterfuge, to throw the enemies into chaos, plunder their gold and return it to the crown. 
i was the first commissioned terrorist endorsed by the british and french crown. i had my duty.
but the ocean is a strange beast, and my ship had an extensive library upon my orders, and on those long voyages between conflict and acts of barbarism and brutality i read and encouraged the crew to broaden their horizons, discuss and debate their duty. 
for we were all slaves of the navy, slaves of the past, slaves of history, slaves of our own choosing and slowly our minds became liberated. but it wasn't until we met the vine cult we understood. sometimes the indigenous population, the ungodly savages have lessons for us civilised fools, sometimes wisdom hides where we least expect it.
i put to the crew we no longer serve the english or any nation or ideology, other than liberation, freedom and a true equality amongst men and women alike. anyone who sailed with us would receive equal bounty, any one who refused would be let off at nearest land. and we would take back the treasures from any ship with a nations flag, for the nations had robbed all of us cross border alike. we were united not by flag but by a righteous claim to be free. 
but we must have a flag under which we fly, a flag that represents an idea not a nation but the opposite, and we chose the black flag.
and we must have a name that bounds us together, and we chose the name pyrates.
and we must have a place upon land from which we can establish out eden, and we found libetaria on the madagascar coast.
and in the dream i gazed upon a harmonious inlet of healthy mixed races, all happy people, working together, the children free and unashamed as they ran naked towards the wonderful lagoons, the women unbound by gender inequality, the men respectful warriors who all hungered for knowledge and arts, some made beautiful music, some painted, some wrote poems and preformed them for others. in my dream i saw eden. 
but when we warred, we plundered deep. we spilt only necessary blood for we knew that even our enemy was enslaved by their military machines. 
libertaria had more gold and treasure than any nation and we distributed it equally, and stashed it in secret places for we knew they would come looking, hunt us down and hang every last one of us.
we were slippery, masters of stealth, masters of chameleon espionage, our men and women undercover in kings and queens courts, infiltrating the navy, we knew every move before they made it but still they came, it was only a matter of time, but before they came we would live free and die free.
i opened my eyes, and looked at the sleeping audrey, she lay there in tranquility and i wondered if she dreamed like me.

           

can't say i enjoyed the taste at all, bitter and foul were the words that sprung to mind, i looked at geoffrey who still stood over me. 'jesus man, this is foul.'
'quite unpleasant i would imagine...' geoffrey said, then added, '...at first. i'd give it a moment.'
audrey watched my face go through the motions of disgust, she put her hand up to her mouth as if she were shocked but withdrew them after i acclimatised to the war that was breaking out in my mouth. the bitter venomous taste passed away and went into some kind of himalayan salty phase, then saline, then something very peculiar. 
'i'm not sure what this is geoffrey, i've never tasted anything like it, it's gone from abysmally foul to indescribable.'
i pushed the goblet towards audrey. 
she sucked delicately through the straw and almost instantly threw her head back, 'ugghhh, that's awful!'
'let it pass,' i suggested.
her face relaxed, and then it must off hit her as her features began to look puzzled. 
i waited a few moments, 'what do you think?'
'it's like another planet, like that movie avatar, a place where dragons fly wild. i got glimpses of them, i saw octopus to, inky things lurking in darkness and i could feel an intelligence as they stared into me. it's not so bad, just somewhat alien and dark.'
we stared at one another, 'i prefer your drink,' i said. 'i don't wanna see dragons and tentacles.'
'i like dragons, but it was kinda h.p lovecraft.'
'ha, yeah a mad writer would have to figure somewhere in my drink.'
she laughed and looked towards another room.
'what's in there?'
'let's look, maybe it's dragon.'
we walked into the other room and saw a huge balinese hut with a ladder leading to a large double bed.
we both, hand in hand walked right up to the steps and i gestured for her to go first.
'are you frightened of dragons mr. mission?'
'not at all and if you like i'm happy to climb first, you will have to forgive my english manners, they are awkward.'
'ha, no looking up my skirt okay.'
'i can't make that commitment but i will endeavour to do my best.'
like a lithe agile serpent she seems to slither up the big bamboo ladder with me following.
when we do get to the bed it's massive, strangely deceptive dimensions and filled with pillows and ornate plush cushions.
i sprawl back and look at the stars above. 
'how does this work, the whole building is counter intuitive.'
audrey lays next to me, 'it's very intuitive if you let it be.'
i ponder her words, they seem filled with latent wisdom. 
after a while i whisper 'it's very comfortable audrey,' but i notice she is sleeping deeply.
i sink back and let the sleep pass through me in dreams.
  

the description defies me in terms of taste, it was more impressionistic but i could almost perceive the mint, cinnamon and hint of honey, the strange imbued mixture of tangerine and vanilla but then came a series of images, soft fluffy white clouds, colorful birds singing in chorus and dandelions, which seemed to appear magnified as the spores left their home and floated on a casual breeze like nonchalant abstractions. i could see magnificent flowers blooming in slow time, feel wonderful expanses of gentle lakes and glorious verdant hills. there were soft whispers, the hint of a gentle free spirit haunted my inner sequences and  there was the idea of freedom and femininity unbounded. i let it enter me as audrey slowly intoxicated me like a wave of sensual pleasure, fluttering and most of all safe. it didn’t pass slowly but undulated away in lesser incremental waves, and i completely and utterly surrendered to her.

she was staring at me.

‘fuck audrey, you taste fucking amazing.’

she smiled and took the drink from me, placing her mouth to the ornate straw i watched her cheeks sucking slightly and her eyes light up, ‘mmm, yummy.’

‘that’s incredible, i think you just blew my mind.’

audrey’s teeth appear as she grins, ‘well you can’t have any more unless you share your drink.’

‘i’m afraid i feel it will be an anti climax, probably taste of flat warm watered down beer.’

her eyes sparkled, ‘we will see mission.’

the light in the room seems unnaturally fresh almost clean, the whites seem to sparkle and gleam as though virgin pure, the floor looks immaculate and the surfaces are all highly polished. we seem to be the only people in the whole bar. 

i peer further into the rooms and almost make out another, ‘what’s down there audrey?’

‘i don’t know. we could have a look.’

‘yeah let’s just have a look. come with me for a moment.’

hand in hand we walk through into a darker room that is set off to the side and slightly sunken. we seem to step into a glowing light, and as we progress further i see it’s source but it’s absurd. 

the fish tank takes up the whole wall, built in like a huge plasma tv set, and as we push our faces onto the glass we watch the array of fish swim past in the strange purple light. 

these are not just tropical fish they are huge, clownfish, tetras, manta rays, massive moon jellyfish, squid and suddenly i step back, ‘fuck!’

‘what what’s wrong?’

‘did you see that, over there,’ i point behind some colossal towering column of seaweed, ‘keep your eye about 2 meters of the way up from the bottom, something is hiding behind...’

‘oh my!’

we both step backwards as the mermaid darts up from behind the seaweed and swirls around dolphin like doing a series of loops and twirls, a tiny little vortex trail behind her, hair flowing like a blazing trail behind a comet.

‘she’s beautiful,’ audrey says, ‘i've never seen one before. very sexy.’

‘audrey it’s a mermaid, they don’t exist.’

‘mmm, that’s a funny thing to say don’t you think?’

‘well... they are mythological, it’s gotta be a joke, some sort of practical joke.’

‘she looks very real to me, look at her tail.’

sure enough the mermaids tail was as real a fishtail as i’ve ever seen. i scanned it looking for a fault line, it seamlessly was part of her body, the lower half being scale, the upper, a pale human flesh. her hair was red and now floated above her in the current as she hovered in front of us separated by a sheet of glass and a tank of water she didn’t seem at all self conscious about her nakedness, as i looked upon her breasts. 

we stepped forwards and audrey suck out her hands, i followed her lead and the mermaid reached out and placed her hand over ours. i smiled.

it was a mermaid, in a tank in a bar in sydney.

the union lasted a couple of minites and the mermaid eventually swam away out of sight. after that, the exotic fish seemed a disappointment. i watched a school of neon tetras swim around and then we returned to the table, just in time for there was geoffrey approaching the table carrying a tray with my drink. 

i finished my drink, misty finished hers left me with the transparent vial, she disappeared into the crowd after a soft kiss on my cheek and whispering something in icelandic or swedish in my ear. 
a man in a skeleton suit does a little dance around her and ignoring me completely drags her into the throbbing crowd as the music changes pace into some kinda weird hardcore tribal jungle beat, a bunch of colourful characters hop around doing some sporadic monkey dance, i watch them swallowed into the absurd throng.

a smoke machine pumps out mist and everyone seems to be lost in a friendly cloud of dry ice. i should leave, but i can't see anything, the mist is everywhere and in a room filled with people my machinations to find an exit result in chaos, spilled drinks and embarrassed faces, i'm awkward at the best of times let alone on a dance floor. i find myself at the bar and order another dark and stormy, wondering if a variation could be called dark and misty, maybe substitute the ginger beer for root beer or sarsaparilla. 

the girl in the fur bikini is moving her lips, i can't hear what she's saying so i lean in closer.

'wanna have a drink with me, i finish up in 20 minutes?'

'sure, i'd like that, can we go somewhere quieter, this noise is doing my head in.'

'yes, wait over there and i'll grab you in twenty, thirty max.'

'okay.'

i stand by the designated spot and in twenty minutes she emerges still wearing the fur but under a dark trench-coat with a faux tiger fur trim. 

we hit the streets, it's cooler out there, southerly wind blowing in after a hot day. 

'where you taking me bar maiden?'

'after my shift i usually stop in at the 'citizen kaned' i like to have a night cap. it's quiet and sophisticated, usually empty, its my secret spot to unwind.'
'secret spot, mmm, are you sure you wanna share it with me.'
'yes, i'm sure. the moment i saw you i knew i would.'
'really!'
'yes, really. so what's your name mr?'
'captain, captain mission.'
'i'm audrey.'
'well it's lovely to meet you audrey, i offer her an arm she leads me along the main street.
'so what happened to your friend?'
'ah she, well she's my er connection, more of a recreational contact than a friend.'
'ha, recreational contact, that's an interesting description, she a model?'
'it's possible, i don't know, she's kinda glamorous but dangerous so i keep her at arms length.' 
'you liked her didn't you.'
'not in the way you imagine, it's not really about like but need.'
'you need her?'
'well i have exotic tastes and she supplies me with them.'
'ahh okay, excellent, every one needs some one for something, i think we will be good friends.'
we turn into a small alley way, the street lights and headlights fade away and the walls are far darker. i can see a neon sign on the other side of the street and a doorman standing outside. we cross and approach. 
audrey chats with the doorman and then takes me up a long narrow staircase, it has a right angled turn and seems to get narrower the higher we climb.
my knee hurts but it would be very uncool to mention anything about it so i just focus my thoughts elsewhere, it's getting harder to see as we ascend into pitch darkness.
suddenly we enter a bar. it's quite beautiful, dark marble pillars and floors, luxurious soft velvet armchairs and ornate tables, crystal chandeliers from some louis the 14th ball room. i'm stunned by the beauty and attention to detail but it's the size that really takes my breath away. it reaches in all directions, almost as far as i can see, walkways lead into smaller chambers and each room seems to have an equal amount of sub rooms, like a mandela. 
the only person i can see is standing behind the bar, he's working on a cocktail the way a sculptor would a marble block.
we walk over, the bartender presents the drink, complete with garnish flourish and a beaming smile.
'think you're gonna like this one audrey, i made it just the way you like it but perfected the celestial aspect.'
'is that a syringe?' i point at the syringe laying at the bar.
'yes, it's a tool of my trade. look, i have many tools to assist me.'
with a sweep of his hand he shows me a little workstation behind him, almost like a surgeons instruments, small scalpels, twisting devices, test tubes in a large rack that stretches out, a micro blowtorch and a set of digital scales.
'geoffery is a molecular gastronomy chief who specialises in cocktails, like heston on tv, but geoffery works only with alcohol.'
'that's interesting.'
'he also is an astrologist and by working with your chart creates a drink that defines your personality. it's a bit convoluted but once he's defined your chart he can create the drink that matches your zodiac for each night of the year. so it's always tweaked slightly, so this would be my drink for tonight. thank you geoffrey.'  
'i've never heard anything quite like that, amazing.'
he smiles, and rubs his hands together, 'so i will just be needing your dates.'
'really i only really drink one drink these days,' i can tell i'm offending him, so i smile reluctantly, 'okay geoffrey, okay, ha, lets do it.'
I'm sceptical, slightly nervous as i don't drink much and yet curious.
i scrawl my dates down on a notepad. 
'vedic for you i feel.'
i nod my head in agreement.
audery escorts me to a small sunken room, for the first time i notice she's wearing ornate heels, quite high. we lounge in a huge sofa with thick velvet cushions. there's a massive mirror reflecting ourselves back at us from high up giving the effect we are much lower down.
'i'm going to wait for your drink to arrive but would you like a little taste of me?'
we giggle a little, as i nod my head, somewhat nervous at the intimacy.
audrey slips a tiny silver metal like straw into the strange looking drink and passes it to me with a beaming smile that's part cute and part daring.

i avoid bars these days but she said meet me in 'spyders' and i wasn't in a position to argue with her.

'do they sell good drinks?'

'yeah babe, the best.'

so i'm there unfashionably early waiting for the girl in a fluro fur bikini to serve me, she's taken my order but spending a long time at the blender. i watch her shaking her ass to the neo-funk beat, she's got a nice body and happy energy that spills into me. finally she presents me with a smooth perfect looking dark and stormy. i sip it, i'm very fussy about my drinks, not being a lover off alcohol this is my one and only drink. dark kraken rum spiced with star anise, organic fresh cinnamon, a pinch of clove and hint of nutmeg mixed into a very cold organic ginger beer over ice. perfect, one sip excites my lips and tongue, if a drink can't do that then it's not worth drinking.

i get my corner and wait for mystique to turn up. 

she's sitting in front of me, i didn't see her arrive but there she is, glammed up looking like some sort of exotic mermaid. i smile, 'you look great.'

'thank you mission a girls gotta make an effort these days to get noticed.

'ha!, get real misty, your the most noticeable woman in town. and for a dealer that's probably not a good idea.'

'nonsense i blend in by being beautiful in a crowd of beautiful people.'

'mmm, well it's not often i get out to bars these days,' i notice she has no drink, 'what can i get you?'

'i want champagne or a whiskey. you choose.'

i slide through the crowd and smile at the barmaid in fur, 'hey how's it going?' she says.

'it's going just fine, i need another drink for my friend there. she asked for a whiskey or champagne but i think she needs something else.'

'a cocktail perhaps.'

'yep, what's on the list tonight?'

'why don't you leave it with me, you trust me?'

'with my life.'
she flashes me a smile,'ha, you sir must have a death wish.'
'a small death wish yeah.' it's cryptic but cute and i was flirting way over her head.

i return with a blue cocktail in a tall glass. 'here.'

'that's not what i asked for mission, you never liked orders did you?'

'call it creative license misty, now what you got for me?'

'i got you some flow, it's straight out of tokyo, made this morning. i have not taken any but these are top notch.' she pulls out a little vial of crimson pills and shakes it in front of me, her bright red nails flash before me like tiny fireflies.
the vial sits perfectly in my palm, my fingers curl slowly around it and i slip it away out of sight.
'how much?'
'lets say 2 hours worth.'
'jesus misty, if there's one commodity i am in short supply off it's time.'
'two hours is not so bad, it's quite reasonable when you think about it.'
'okay, okay drink up, lets, go.' 
'darling let me enjoy my drink at least, what is it?'
'its a cocktail.'
'i know but what's it called.'
'la petit mort.'
misty smiles.

dawn ceremony, freedom blue sky flashes by from the projectile train, i'm deep in my novel page turning as the train fills with the early morning dead. there are three prime urges pulsing through my body, one is to finish this book so i can start another. the novel is 'war in heaven' by gavin smith and although it's a good story it's going on a bit to long and i need a break from the style which is violent and tech laden. i need coffee, coffee in my blood is a primal urge, a final addiction. and lastly i'm excited. i'm about to meet my friend. it's not like i have many left these days. 
i have not seen iggy starseed for about 10 years, in my blog he was always refereed to as the professor. he was my experimental lab companion as we float tanked and partook in dmt experiments changing our brains. iggy was always very extreme in adaptation to environments, pushing his body much further than i ever did so in 10 years he's recreated himself.
we meet in our old haunt, hive city. 
he's no different physically, maybe even more sinuous and serpentine, ice climbing would do that. iggy starseed is an anomaly, you would have never met anyone like him, part iggy pop, part tim o leary, part john lilly, terrence mckenna, part mark twain, part scott of the antarctic partly made in japan, while also hassan i sabbeth. 
it's rare for me to get excited about seeing anyone these days, but i'm like a fucking skool girl this morning. i grab a coffee and wander down to hive city. i stop and watch a fashion shoot, the most glamourous beautiful young lady swanning around in a silk outfit. i can't help but gaze at her as she obeys the photographers every word. 
iggy and i get coffee, he's on three shots a morning while i just have my one. we do a quick download and head off to look at various mountaineering shops and bookshops. iggy fills me in on his decade, his marriage and child. he's literally done everything he said he would do 10 years ago, and more. he's been everywhere there are mountains.
he tells me about tokyo life, tales of girls, of dance parties in blade runner landscapes, about drugs, about casualties, about what's really going down. 
the day passes very quickly, it's hard to leave but we both have to get back to our duties. we arrange another meet up, next time at the beach so he can introduce me to his wife and daughter. 
i head back, head enmeshed in interplanetary cyber warfare and hoping to finish war in heaven.

terrible beach, dawn, surf conditions excellent, i'm in. a day in the sun and surf, i watch the crowds come, i watch them go, dusk i'm crawling out the surf-life building showered and hungry, muscles aching in a good way. i grab a coconut drink, drive home, in that californian sunshine the roads are empty, everyone going the other way, my windows are down, moon roof open, laurel canyon blasting out as i cruise around looking like a strange version of jimi hendrix, feathers in my hair, colourful t shirt, dude i just need a strat and a bohemian waistcoat. i'm loving this music, it's perfect for the day, this moment, i don't wanna go home so i head north on the freeway. chase the setting sun. dreamer of dreams, chaser of suns, satellite of love. 

killer version - fingerprint file - the rolling stones

pushing through the crowded market to catch a glimpse of old nebuchadnezzar, i'm accosted by merchants of street apocalypse. a man disgusted at my t shirt walks away in disgust, he threatens val and insults the girls. i smirk him away with a black vortex annihilation strategy i picked up in tibet. these fucking assholes think they own symbols whereas a powerful symbol has many meanings.
we are jostled and pushed, drawn away from where we wish to be, the harder we head towards the building the more difficult it becomes, penetration of the mass proves impossible so i give way and we are absorbed into the depths.
i buys some interesting oils, i purchase some time, i indulge in some substance abuse, i get some feathers in my hair and follow the chaos until i can find a flow. the noise is unbearably loud, my head cannot endure to much loud noise, it's a repulsion field sending me away.
big thunderous black clouds rolling in over the buildings, on the kings street we head into a cocktail bar, it's one of my old haunts from my city days. i order up some dark and stormy's and the rum hits my central nervous system almost immediately, spiced and cold it's wonderful to feel this relaxed.
it's the first drink i've had in a long time.
we wander the streets, i poke my head in a few places, eat some halumi and chips, we end up outside the worlds best gelato place, voted by italian gourmet chiefs in rome and it lives up to it's name, the cow and moon. amazing gelato, mind blowing.
by the time i'm back at mission control everything is over. i missed old nebuchadnezzar, would have been great to see the druid in action but it was not to be. 

strangely i had mixed feelings before i read this, i was not sure i wanted to know to much about my hero, i mean i know enough but i didn't want to be a voyeur as he revealed his life to his readers through his memoir. yeah i really did wrestle with it but obviously and predictably i succumbed.
from the moment i picked it up and read the first page i was turning the page, it took me two days to complete but only as i had to sleep and work, i would have stayed up and read the whole book in a sitting. 
is it very readable.
i wondered what voice steve would write with, he's a brilliant writer and has many different and interesting styles but i wasn't prepared for this voice. it was his voice, it was very genuine and reading the book i felt like he was just sitting next to me drinking a cup of chai tea and telling me this story, slightly detached from the events by time and wisdom. 
one of the reasons i like steve so much is he's always been a really honest man and this book is an honest book. it's not pretentious, it's not literary, it's not intellectual. what is it?
i guess it's something quite peculiar. 
after reading the book you can see why people like him so much. he's smart, engaging and original and will make you laugh out loud and shed a tear as he tells his story and then there's all that fucking talent.

spend the day catching up with an old friend margo whom i have not seen in 20 years, she remembers more about my past than i can, we swap stories, drink coffee. it's nice to talk to her, she reminds me of my other friend kate, kinda same look in her eyes.
she's been through a lot, i can see she suffers a little still, i do what i can, tell her a few parables and let her consider them in her own time. it's strange as today i feel the vine in me, whispering, cruising through my blood, encouraging. i like to hear her voice, it's reassuring.
we watch the waves at terrible, i have this overwhelming urge to swim but i have no costume with me, so we watch the gentle waves break and talk about history and divorce. i have the benefit of years, decades really so i guess i'm able to offer margo something like clarity. well captain missions version of it i guess. it's a good day, margo leaves, the sun starts to fade, it's a good day.

killing horses, that's the great australian sport. everyone drinks champagne and expensive wine and places their bets and hurrah, hurrah, we cheer and shout and wave our hands in the air like demented investors, easy money baby, blood money. 
the crops smack the flesh, the knees inflame with pain, the blood races, the nostrils flare, the crowd goes wild with hunger, hunger for a win, thirst for the fall. blood vessels explode, stress factors rise, no one here get's out alive.
afterwards they say, 'we love animals, we love sports.'
these fucking people should put their minds to something more constructive, who cares who crosses the line faster, may as well race crabs, let the horses run free. human beings, disappoint me today.

struck down by a terrible fever, in the grip of depraved virus infection, i must be wretched, a chemical factory of body fluids and toxic molecules. my dreams assault me, batter my interior and i awake in some sort of tidal pool of sweat my mouth dry and filled with a hideous nefarious gas, coughed up phlegm and debris from the hidden corners of my churning internal mechanisms.
i stumble to the bathroom, like a zombie infestation, heat radiating from this pale surface of skin. i must stink of some rotten apocalyptic repulsive thing. 
when i see the reflection i am shocked, that twisting mass of black curls, the bedraggled beard, strange teeth that look like an ancient derelict graveyard and washed out pallor to my flesh. christ, i'm infected with some ebola like death germ, i'm already dead baby, a walking dead man. i clean my teeth and wash the sweat from my face, then crawl back to bed, praying to the gods, any god who will have me that by the time the church gig rolls by i will be better. 
later when dawn brings the birds and i watch them eating some seeds i sprinkle on the lawn. my heart is pulling me towards the surf but i can't go, i need to recover. maybe tomorrow....
the sun is out in full force, morning is joyous out there. i feel horrible as i crush some lemons into my water. this came out from the blue. i never get sick but i must suppress everything, i must short circuit the infection and blast it into suspended animation for tonight.
oxford arts factory, oxford street, packed with a new generation, i look at the hordes who flock the doors, a new generation of church people are here.
i meet up with wilde childe and kate away, we hang around outside waiting for familiar faces, i'm delirious, half from this terrible illness that is being held at the gates of my bodies defences, and half from sheer excitement. 
people stop by and say hello, many seem to comment on my hair, i look like a roman, a greek, a fat old testament giant. ah yeah, i'm ugly and wretched these days, inside and out but i must keep it together until the end of the night.
inside we squeeze as near to the front as possible, christ, it's packed and tight, i must be the oldest person here. suddenly the band come on and launch into a blistering, 'toy head' and from then on it's mental. further deeper has a fantastic live edge to it, the musicians have not only mastered the art of music and looking incredibly committed to their art, they are the art. it's watching them play together live, bless my cotton socks, it's fucking spectacular how they make their own peculiar unique noise.
now i've seen a hell of a lot of church gigs but this was different, it had a kind of groove, yeah, a groove baby. there were moments when the sound went outta whack, but it still had the groove. the audience were won over from the start, the band didn't have to work hard, they just had to play and i gotta say it was magnificent. highlights indeed, well they were all good but love philtre is a knock out.
i hope they can package this on dvd or blu ray or whatever, because as a showcase further deeper is the ultimate selection of songs, diverse and brilliant, a crafted performance by masters with just enough chaos to make it real. for about two hours i felt brilliant, cured of any illness, healed, i could see again, i could walk. did i mention, this is my favourite band.  

t'was a blustery day when old captain mission found himself raiding the kitchen cupboards for some maluka honey, it's unfathomable where it all goes, he thunked to himself aloud.
trusty hound dog pan looked at him sheepishly, face tilted slightly away, eye's looking at the old captains face. 
just then there was a knock at the door.
'who could that be pan, it's far to early for visitors.'
at the door stood ghost lemur. 'sorry to trouble you, but we have a problem in the garden that requires some attention.'
'in the garden, mmm, sounds like i may need to put my boots on.'
mission followed ghost along the trail at the side of mission control around the cactus plants to the tropical garden where the tall sunflowers bent under the wind, the massive leaves of the elephant plants shivered and shuddered, the banana palms and ferns danced. on the small patch of grass stood libertaria's mortal enemy, the dreaded bush turkey.
he looked defiantly as he stomped around, digging up the ground, scratching and squealing like a hideous demonic beast. 
the captain reached for his trusty weapon but in haste he had forgotten it, the creature spread it's horrible wings and mocked the friends with a loud guttural laugh, 'you pussies, ha ha ha!'
ghost looked at the captain for an answer, pan weaved behind him peering out from my legs. i looked around for a stick or anything i could throw at this predatory beast from hades. 
nothing.
it spread it's wings again, like one of hose birds that stole bridget bardot in the cave man movie. and then to compound the situationalist nightmare two smaller bush turkey's flew down. babies!
we stood our ground, 'you can't intimidate us with your anarchist attitudes and violent indifference towards cultivating sanctuary,' mission says proudly.
the birds fall about laughing, almost like those crows in walt disney films. 
mission expects them to burst into a song, some wretched tune about poor old captain mission taking on the turkey's but suddenly there's a flurry of activity, some burst of colour and the turkeys are under attack from three pairs of parrots, two black cockatoo's and some kookaburras.
it happens so fast ghost, pan and mission step back in surprise.
'ha, take that heffalumps and woozles.'
in a matter of moments there's only a few black feathers laying upon the grass and no other signs of the dreadful prehistoric creatures.
mission wanders past and notices the dragon sitting atop a rock, 'morning mission, i see you have the situation under control.'
'morning dragon, yeah, but you better watch out, it's going to be a blustery old day.'
dragon scurries away, his red belly flashes.
one by one the creatures return to their homes, mission and trusty companion pan return to the kitchen.
now what are we going to do about the maluka situation,' the captain says to himself.