Sunday, March 30, 2014

i'm driving home, into the sun
a dog waits for me on the driveway
i feed him, offer him a few munchies and then i roll myself a joint. jake rings, we have a chat. he's a capricorn, super practical and offers such good advice, whereas i'm completely living in the shadow of neptune.
the night falls fast, black clouds break open and a sudden lightening storm passes overhead. i feel that fear, i was hit by lightening once, still freaks me. 
i turn on the tv, watch a show about the amazon, a massive blast of lightening strikes and then thunderous cracks, and trembles in the atmosphere. i turn off the amazon and light candles, everything in the room is still but outside the weather is wild. 
hard rain falls.



 
it's so early, 5am as i drive along the sleepy central coast, roads wet and gleaming in the street lighting, a few sporadic cars mostly utes pass along my cruise towards the highway. i'm somewhat bleary eyed, this is an unnaturally early time to be awake and i have to kick start my brain with a coffee. 
on the highway i start firing up, i can feel sleep leaving me as my body boots up, starts initializing all it's software.
the high way becomes a point of focus, hypnotising me into some sort of strange hyper alertness. 
it's relaxing to, not much traffic, not many distractions, my mind still relatively empty will throw up the occasional residual thought but the holes in my minds net are to large, they just float through, never staying long enough for analysis or reflection.
suddenly i hit the fog, it's very thick, so thick even the tail lights from the car in front becomes obscured. i follow the flow of the road markings amazed by the density of this fog, it's almost impossible to see anything outside, i'm surrounded by it, and then just as suddenly as it appeared it ends. somewhere past brooklyn the first rays of sunlight begin to pierce darkness. 
i have a strange day ahead of me, it's not going to be easy, i attempt to direct my thoughts into a zone free of anxiety, detachment, i eat some light, embrace the calmness of zen driving, allow my breathing to control my fear.
i miss my morning surfs, rain has made it impossible over the last week and i feel blocked and frustrated. i pray for surf tomorrow, evoke magnificent waves, sunshine, blue skies, as i pull off the highway, i begin to embrace the dawn and all it brings.


Saturday, March 29, 2014

the machine elf blended in perfectly with the indistinctive background, it's dimensions were strangely contradictory, slightly two dimensional yet there was a depth there, you could just make it out given the depth of field was distorted by the almost camouflage like uniformity of colour and pattern, i just felt as though my sensory system was not quite adjusted to it, everything seemed projected upon a screen, yet the machine elf stood in the foreground now, beckoning me closer. his eyes were impenetrable, a far cry from human, there was no hint of danger but neither did i recognise kindness.
i considered lilly's laws,

1. examine whatever one can of where the new spaces are, what the basic beliefs are to go there.
2. take on the basic beliefs of that new area as if true.
3. go into the area fully aware, in high energy, storing everything, no matter how neutral, how ecstatic, or how painful the experiences become.
4. come back here, to our best of consensus realities, temporarily shedding those basic beliefs of the new area and taking on those of the investigator impartially dispassionately objectively examining the recorded experiences and data.
5. test one’s current models of this consensus reality.
6. construct a model that includes this reality and this new one in a more inclusive succinct way. no matter how painful such revisions of the models are be sure they include both realities.
7. do not worship, revere, or be afraid of any person, group, space, or reality. an investigator, an explorer, has no room for such baggage.


as he came closer i could see he held something in his hands, it looked like a piece of technology, but it could have been a magick wand or an ornate teaspoon for all i knew. he started speaking but the voice was distorted, i couldn't understand anything, even his body language was peculiar, sounds came from a mouth. clicks, similar to dolphin but obviously xenolinguistic in nature. 
the shimmering skin gleamed like some sort of deep ocean fish plucked from its element into the air. shimmering and glistening like a fragment of mirror crushed into a small orb sending reflected light in every direction.
he came closer, long clicking sounds, holding the strange device in his hand. he carefully made some adjustment to it, and it started to rotate, strange flesh metal hands came very close to my chest, a fierce heat or cold upon my skin. mr. freeze was creating a hole in my body, my flesh seemed to be manipulated by his hands and he placed the strange tube inside me and then closed up the wound with his hand. there was no pain, just the tickling sensation, and then a cold piercing numbness. 
the machine elf kept trying to communicate with me but the sounds grew faint, the spiral came back as the elf dimension retreated and mr freeze into it.

back in real time i find myself slumped in my chair, at my desk. the screensaver comes on, the harsh lighting from fluorescent tubes penetrate my head, the exaggerated noise of an office, whispers from down the corridor, the smell of ms novas perfume, the strange musky atmosphere, slightly damp and fungal, a battered old air conditioning system regurgitating stale air, the deep penetration of a nail file, a stapler in slow motion, high pitched laughter, i looked out the window, stared into rain, the trees, the dark skies.
mr. freeze had put something inside me. i needed answers.

i had accessed some sort of dimensional portal into another reality but all things considered these machine elves could have chosen me. hundreds of people report sightings of mr freeze but no one ever speaks of an abduction and implantation of alien technology. maybe they were to embarrassed. i did a google search.
there were some references to dmt and the machine elves, a scientific investigation by dr. strassman back in the 1990's, some recreational users. i returned to the strassman experiment. his subjects were given large doses and under controlled conditions, strassman was a scientist, somewhat skeptical. some of the test subjects that took high doses actually met with the elves, some were experimented upon, given gift implants. they reported that the machine elves were benevolent, they were excited and happy to see humans and greeted them with gifts.  
the subjects all came out of their altered states feeling good, positive vibrations.
there were other reports about how the dmt machine elves control mankind and are dangerous aliens, not to be trusted. i didn't buy that line, the net was filled with these conspiracy ideas, it was becoming increasingly difficult to know what the hell was real and what was fiction.
i shut down the computer and quit work early, heading back to the zoom witches. 
the drive took an hour and a half, rain fell heavily and by the time i arrived the sun had set and it was now as miserable as hell. water had penetrated my boots, and my big black overcoat was saturated and weighing me down. i climbed up to the basement and let myself in.
the girls were in a huge bathtub, being attended to by several eunuchs. they were all relaxing with cucumber slices over their eyes the smell of weed hanging heavily in the air. 
'captain mission, welcome back,' one of them said.
'mr. freeze, what is he exactly?'
'the girls emerged, their faces surfacing and carefully the cucumber slices were removed by the attendants. 
'you saw mr. freeze?'
'yes, but who...what is he?'
'he is a machine elf.' one of the girls said.
'he's actually an alien being from another dimension,' another girl said.
'he's actually an angel we call hashmal?'
'what, which is he?'
'depends in what context you saw him.'
'he put something inside of me, some sort of device. what is it?'
the girls were putting on their robes, servants dried their hair with long white towels.
'mr freeze gives humans gifts, you are lucky.'
'lucky, what the hell was it, why do i have this?
'you were chosen.'
'for what?'
they all share a smile.
'i don't want to be chosen, it feels more like a curse.'
the girls laugh and i make to leave somewhat humiliated by my ignorance. the alien object inside me seems to throb, i can feel it inside my chest.







Thursday, March 27, 2014

psycho babble comes through the wire, someone in a feedback loop, gotta shake the heat and score me some zoom. at least then i can chase down tomorrow today, flip some wires, twist some synapses. 
'hey brother what's doing,'a voice calls from a crowd.
'i'm just travelling my journey man, what about you?'
'in a crowd.'
we wave bye and say some things, i pass through a fish tank window, how do i do that, portal manifestation. what did that strange lady say, vortex.
fuck it! i resign myself to fate, some people are good with numbers and have musical talents, me i'm just a vortex manipulator. 
a voice in my head whispers the question, 'or are you manipulated by the vortex?'
'it don't matter either way, i will get to where i have to be.'
i make some cosmic adjustments to the matrix, weave in some forgiveness, let it pass into yesterday already.
the zoom ladies hide out in sub lofts, and elevated basements, they lounge around in lingerie smoking thin perfectly rolled spilffs, some are sleeping others in some sensual dream state. the scent of fresh clove and lime lingers in a faint haze, grapes lay on platters.
'i need a hit of zoom,' can't keep up with the flow, need a short cut.'
a woman open her eyes, she looks at me assessing me with a slow soft scan, from my strange boots up to the crown of my aura. 
she rises slowly and slips into some boots.
'we will require some blood or semen for exchange.'
these witches are bitches, heavily into some kind of domination supremacy shit.'
i nod my head, yeah i know the score, its capitalism.

later the zoom cruises through my body, i'm hitting tomorrow afternoon, paving the pathway for myself. yeah reading e mails, that have not been sent yet, checking out the environment, prepared for rainstorms and a slow drive into work, some obstacles i can manage now. the zoom is clean, clear sighted, it organises time management, like cloning yourself. there are side effects, side effects are just part of the territory of life, in zooms case you don't have the same paradoxes you have in travelling back in time because with zoom you don't physically travel there' you experience it as a ghost, disembodied. you can avoid issues and problems because you see them coming, but you can't really change anything while your under the influence. 
the biggest side effect is freeze.
if you perhaps hear a song or repeating hypnotic pattern in a zoom experience, under certain conditions when you meet it again under normal time you can freeze, the song has imprinted itself over riding any activity you plan.
freeze was the enemy of zoom. 
it happened randomly so i took my chances.
some zoom users called the phenomena mr. freeze. if you met mr. freeze, he would fuck you up.
i'm scanning some papers, processing some information when i notice the spiral pattern, like that sixties spiral on tv shows, that seems to draw you in at the same time it takes you out.
my eyes followed the spiral, my attention fell away completely and i noticed a shadow flick across the way.
i shook myself from the effects of the spiral and when i looked again it had vanished. where was it, how had it appeared, maybe some one was attempting to implant some kind of subliminal message.

the zoom wore off faster that i would have liked, and i prepared to meet my day, factoring in i would have to think fast when i saw the spiral again.
nothing much else happened, until i hit the timeline again, this time in corporeal form, in real time.
the rain fell, the drive was insane, slow and frustrating. i drank a coffee and hit my desk, read and answered e mails in a way i had planned, knowing what to ignore, what to expect and how to respond, i   strategically dealt with issues as they came up getting through a workload that should have taken hours in a few seconds.
then i saw the spiral, it was reflected in my computer screen. i began to be drawn in but quickly chanted a mantra, 'i bow and call upon primal wisdom, i call upon the wisdom of the age, i bow and call to true wisdom outside all things, i bow and call to the wisdom within.'
the spiral seemed to spit me out, and i fell back over my seat onto the floor, and there out of the corner of my eye i could see him, a small white creature, almost human in shape but obviously not, for he was tiny, covered in purple shades of patterns and ever changing fractals, light symbology surrounded his whole body and the air around him, it. i looked closely at it, inspecting it with my vision, it was part machine yet organic, part human part elf, a machine elf.




  

  
i don't consider myself black or jewish by the way, it's something i learnt other people seem far more interested in than i am. i have a colourful dna line back to solomon maybe offspring of even cleopatra and solomon but 'black' and 'jew' are verbs that don't describe me, i have some parts of me that are icelandic, nordic, north american indian, south american aztec, olmec and mayan. i span time and space and am a single element in a vast beautiful expanse of intelligence and wonder i call god ocassionally, but you may call the universe. he is everywhere, in everything, the atoms, the elephants, the forces that rule our scientific universe are god for what is gravity but mass's love for other mass. 
there are eastern european aspects to me, european and atlantan. i am part tiger, octopus and moomintroll, i am vastly beyond two mere words and just to prove anything true must contain its own paradox, i am captain mission!


free speech?
lets face it, it's almost the only thing left that's free, before they take it away incrementally at first, the mass will allow it, they have been dumbed down to think it's a great idea. i preach free speech although technically i'm not a man who talks. my thing is writing. i don't see the point in restricting peoples speech, let them say stupid things, let them be bigots or racists or just idiots, i'm offended everyday. silencing them will never stop their thoughts, perhaps even send them into even more twisted extremes, literature is filled with this stuff, it's out there in the world, it always has been. 
is it better said, no! but you can't ever control speech because it's connected with thought in most cases. 
speech has a power, it's a dimension that causes change to others directly. i think people just need to be careful what they say, considerate and constructive, have some level of the impact of words upon those that hear them but to restrict it is just another surrender of personal power to an authority that is fucked up. lawyers, magistrates, public servants and beurocracies, police and fucking ideological windbags. 
i'm a black jew so i've heard it all, am i offended, no, i let it go or exercise my right to counter the offence with a more reasonable perspective ! 
people should be able to say what they want, when they want, how they want, that's free speech. 
the real dilemma is embedded in how the information is received and processed.   

Sunday, March 23, 2014

in in the city today, train ride in passes like compression time, i've got my head stuck in a great big book, immersed like a fish in water. 
when i wander out off the station i notice my shoes have fallen apart, split right down the seams, fabric tearing up, stitching come undone, yeah literally falling away from my feet. it's like the beginning of a bukowski novel without the drinking, i just feel pathetic and stupid, a clothing malfunction i think they call it. 
i head over to newtown where i meet olga and val.
'you gotta help me man, i need some sensible shoes, look at these ones.'
i display the shreds upon my feet.
olga, the queen of sensible shoes takes me to a trendy king street shoe shop and i buy myself a fantastic pair of casual canvass boots, super comfortable, grey green perfect fit thanks to a lovely sales person who was very helpful, how refreshing that is.
so val, olga and i have a great rave, we eat himalayan food in a beautiful restaurant, amazing palak paneer, the spinach is a beautiful rich shade of green, i can't stop looking at it, fresh and vital and i did feel very comfortable in my new boots almost as though i had been wearing them all my life.
we wander along the crowded night street, have coffee down in some quaint natural coffee shop near the station, swap some ideas around, laugh a little, i tell a story about a girl i was in love with once and then i get the train back up the coast feeling happy to have seen my friends, to be wearing these comfortable new boots reading my big book again.
  

Thursday, March 20, 2014

people say you should stay in the moment. i think this is good advice. i forget to remember to do this sometimes, it's a glitch in my nivarna circuit, except... sometimes i'm caught in a slip stream of temporal displacements and at a whim of fate could end up any point in time, but even in that time you may just find the moment you are in the moment. the trick is that moment really is a moment, it's hard to attain and maintain, and the lesson is letting go. that's the glitch solved!

it's difficult, i have trouble with it. anxieties creep in, stresses and strains from work, money usually, what a jip money is.
how is it that some politician can get to earn $1000's of dollars for two hours work or whatever it fucking was and yet they harp on about slashing penalty rates of nurses and people that work weekends, that's fucking disgusting hypocracy these people are all various levels of vermin, although that's not fair on vermin, whatever vermin is or are, rats maybe or locusts, i don't know exactly what vermin are but they are politicians, lawyers and bankers. i don't care if this one's innocent or guilty for whatever he has done but he's guilty of being fucking overpaid and a fucking hypocrite, but that's politics, a game of thrones indeed. 

there's no side, left or right the globalists have taken control, the one world government is coming, only it's the same morons that we have now not some super dooper version of star trek's federation, just the same bastards with more control and more power, less accountability. 
china will be here soon. they own the usa. someone's going to start a war. that's the default option of these fuckers. start a fucking war to solve a problem. it's the reset button for them in their video game reality. where will they start it this time? russia, middle east, banda aceh. how will it play out, maybe it just won't play out and we will just slide into some kinda global harmony zone. i don't know but i don't feel like that will happen, these bastards who pull the strings are playing by a different set of rules than the rest of us. 

but let it go, it's another drama against an endless background of mans attempt to dominate the earth and his neighbours. jesus was the man (buddha and lao tze).
i heard abbot's 'forest' speech, well okay i gave him a chance but he blew it right there. the trees are not for us to chop down indiscriminately tony, you mean well, but your fucking stupid if you think that. there are so many alternatives to chopping down our forests.
create harmonious alternative societies within the forest, many people here in australia love trees, why not build some society that can function in forests, build a few resources, infrastructure solar panels, sustainable eco living domes, wi fi it if you want, build a roof platform so people can travel on different levels, be cool man, let the people into the forests and that will generate jobs but it has to be ecological.
the tree logging industry can be re-skilled. think of them as an investment and treat them with respect, they lost their jobs because trees are fucking majestic powerful life forms that possess some kind of intelligence we should all respect. 









Tuesday, March 18, 2014

perfect wave at terrible beach, it was really something wonderful to feel that slight tingle of cold as it lapped around my knees and then that walk into its deep penetrating surface, how i stretched out and dived in, shock and fast fade. 
i get the beautiful waves, they are bigger this morning, the effects of some kind of butterfly effect in northern australia, but here the wave manifests as a butterfly wing, perfect flow. i catch some but its not surfing that motivates me, it's just a kind of silly childish wonder at being in such a strangely familiar element, splashing around like a boy, haven't felt like that for ages. 
later i walk out across a perfect sandy beach, up to the shower and i feel the sunshine upon my skin, it's feeding me. 
i read the news, it's all bad shit, coming at ya from all angles, left right, all the fucking same, don't buy the goods man. they all work for the same man. who cares who it is, he's a bad energy dude, sucking up hope like an evil pope.
i drive along the road, enjoying the cruise, watching the homes, people walking early in the morning, it's a slow drive, soaking up the morning with my organic eye. i buy some grapes from a fruit shop, black ones. i get home and make my fruity drink, i feed the hound, the fish and wait for something to happen but nothing does. i fall into a dream about surfing.




i am a cockney by birth. london lore reckons if you are born within the sound of the bells at st. bows then you're a cockney, i was born right around the corner in whitechapel and in 1962 it was the biggest slum in europe, populated by immigrants and criminal activity and weirdly wired brains like isreal regarde who was a student of crowley for a short time. 
my mother encouraged my father to do some engineering course and he became an engineer, and suddenly we moved to the suburbs where everything was different. i hated this part of london life, i can't recall much about it only i was bullied a lot, there was a girl called kim powers whom i liked a lot.
one memory that sticks out as my first imprint with the emotion of love was when i took my brand new bike out for a ride, i saw her on the opposite side of the street walking towards me, i acted nonchalant, only because i didn't know quite what to do so i just equated this impulsive need to show off, thus i peddled as fast as i could building up a little speed and zoomed down the road hoping she would think, i was steve mcqueen cool.
just as we were about to cross paths, splat!
into a lampost and to add to my humiliation i literally slid down the post with my tongue hanging out licking the cold stone.
she laughed and walked past and thus my lessons in life turned up, humiliation and defeat in love, from which i have learnt to let go and laugh at myself.
these are good lessons and occasionally we all need to remind ourselves how ridiculous we all are. myself probably more than others. thankfully i can't help but write my self out of being, till i am void of thought and imagination. that's what some form of neutrality must be like i imagine. maybe peace, maybe hell, i have no idea. 
everything outside of the natural order is meaningless, i don't get it. a mass of ideas we have forced into existence building civilisations and cultures, all formed around an idea. the earth generates ideas. taoism teaches us not to look at the idea but look at the nature. i think there's a lot to be said for this and perhaps we should be looking at both which ironically is an idea but that's why all truth contains its own paradox.
me, maybe i'm just a paradox within a paradox, what i think is freedom is just another cage until there is no cage. you can use your mind to do anything, belief will power it, so it stands to reason one needs to consider what one believes. love is a choice. i chose to believe in love, i choose joy and peace, love and creativity over all other ideas or at least until something better comes along. 
magick is a very good process, i find i'm attuned to it, it comes intuitively whereas i'm crap at almost everything else, magick is my language, symbolic  significances that i've retained while all other ideologies i may embrace for a while, fail after i apply some critical analysis or you push them as far as you can. the key to magick like everything is knowing when the process is over for you. knowing when the education of these secret traditions are completed and you have finished. it's different for everyone, it's individual and unique. the magick skools tend to omit letting people know about this, which is when some people start to implode or self destruct. i guess its like anything, its something you can't force upon yourself, you don't control it once you let it start, magick is a potent drive because it could lead to power. power, the ultimate aphrodisiac, that's what they say, i wouldn't know because power does not interest me at all, it's in the realm of others. i seek a relationship with the universe, i have one. it works for me, i spent years developing and refining it but that in itself can only come from love, understanding and acknowledgement, it's not really a complex deal in retrospect but sometimes it appeared heavy and weighty and filled with some dark energy, but that ladies and gentlemen, was what was inside me, yeah quite literally magick when it works turns you inside out so you can see yourself. it's a metaphor although literal. this is the alchemy of the process, changing yourself changes experience of the drama outside ourselves, we know it thanks to the new age but it's the old age that really gives you an authentic experience. those ancient ones were switched on cats, taking plant medicine, seeing their own internal fears and desires and madness played out, knowing that it was beyond them but they could symbolise its significance. they designed the road map for us psychonauts, we ambled our way following our impulses and intuition learning what we can, and leaving our own trail of crumbs for others to follow into the woods, it's not for nothing dante starts with inferno and the lines 'half way through life's path, lost in the woods.'
the christian mystics knew kabbalah, they say kabbalists say one can't study kabbala until you are age 40, halfway through life i guess, you need a little experience of life but those kooky kabbalists didn't really get the process because it needed time.
that's what time is, a way of transmitting information. 
in time and the advance of information technology, we could process magick fast, support a science of magick, consciousness, psychology, healing arts, mysticism, science and art, all these lenses should be applied to the magickal realm, what is true and what is not?
true for you?
remember magick is a process, there's no finishing line, it's something that unfolds like a flower and when you have drunk in it's beauty let it go. it's a beautiful process, from a much more elegant intelligence than human and it is worthy of awe and respect and love. 
well i think so. 

i read a fantastic book called 'the erl king' based upon the gothic story / poem by gothe, mixed with the story of st. christopher and a dash of allegorical magical realism echoing proust and gunther grass's tin drum, although i found that a heavy dense book when i first read it, this is somewhat easier to read and captivating. it's written by micheal tounier in 1977 and he won a big literary prize for it unanimously.
the novel is so well written it's easy to see why it won a prize, the story is working on so many levels it's incredibly challenging to read the symbolism in this book but 'wow' it's worth it.





Friday, March 14, 2014

get the train up to newcastle, meet some groovy people in the old customs house, beautiful stone building, high ceilings and grand vista. i chat to a woman in a red dress and very high heels, she's english and had blood red nail polish. the stars are out, a moon hangs in the sky.
i know she likes me, but it's complex, some other guys hang around her demanding her time and one of them offers me a lift home, then declaring his love for the woman in red. he tells me the saddest story of a recent break up, and how he's certain the woman in red is the girl for him now. i don't know what to say, why is he telling me all this, why can't i just look out the window at the night skies, why can't he play some brian eno instead of slayer or iron maiden. it's a long drive home and i have to suffer.
but i kinda feel sorry for the guy and offer some thoughtful philosophical advice, safe stuff so he don't dump me halfway between newcastle and home.
i get a text from the woman in red, she says, how she liked my company and thought i was a gentleman, she says she would like to see me again.
this kinda stuff is rare these days, i hardly ever meet anyone let alone women, i hardly ever go out. 
the lady in red has something to do with the band, the pet shop boys, apparently she's their sound engineer.
she said she'd been in lots of their video's to.
i don't know anything much about the pet shop boys, i like the first song, 'west end girls' but the rest of the stuff i've heard i never really liked much, whereas my brother loves them. anyway i think it's weird that i meet a pet shop girl and i smile when i read her text. it's nice to get feedback like that.
but as i smile my chauffeur is telling me how he feels he can make a new start with pet shop girl, how she may be his 'one' and all the heartbreak he has suffered might just be leading up to this moment, he feels there may be some chance for him.
i send some sort of neutral text back, but instinctively add a kiss which i immediately regret, i don't wanna get entangled with this chap and his desires, it's only going to lead to someone getting hurt, my head starts to feel heavy, i wanna close my eyes, when did going out become so complex.
i get home after midnight and my phones going crazy, woman in red sending me flirty texts. in the morning more come and i think about the poor guy who obviously needs this woman, has pinned his hopes upon the fact she may just like him in return, but you know romance don't work like that, it follows no laws, conditions or rules, it's chaos. the best thing for me to do is go surfing, forget about everything.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

i have seen it all.
today i'm driving three paranoid schizophrenics, we are on our way to pick up a forth. there's a lot of traffic and i've already given a tranquillizer to the most dangerous of my clients. he's recent history is quite violent and disturbing but no one seems to care, the police can't do anything, there's no support for him, and less for us.
he is becoming more and more anxious and agitated so i offer him another tranquillizer, the two other clients are withdrawing further into themselves and the mood within the van becomes darker the closer we get to the pick up point.
the forth client jumps in, he says hello to everyone except the one who is getting agitated and as a result receives a shit load of verbal abuse, some of which is really disturbing. then suddenly the agitated client unbuckles his safety belt and smashes a metal model of the millennium falcon over the head of the other, i attempt to intervene and end up getting a smashed wrist, the millennium falcon comes around for a second blow, smashing into the guys cranium. 
i'm driving a massive van through very crowded street with no where to pull over of any side street, blood and bone spurting out everywhere on the inside of the windows. 
it's another day at the office.
i have a 40 year history of stories, bizarre strange, sad stories with the occasional funny one thrown in, all from my career. one day i'll compile them into some narrative, but you probably wouldn't believe them, the truth is far stranger than fiction.
one eyed seer, 
psychic cyclops 
spinning his way forth 
lumbering forwards
falling back
simple minded
misplaced molecule
foolish weak thing 
shame the strong
in the idiot wind
i heard your song
drifting and drifting
where does it lead
through the wild wood
and towards the sea
the whispering angels 
pinprick of night
dazzling synapses
electrical current insight
darkness now visible
let there be light







Monday, March 10, 2014


apparently i incarnated into this vessel 52 or 53 years ago, so i took it down to the ocean at terrible beach where neptune greeted and gifted me with perfect waves under rich blue skies, invigorating my cellular body with negative ions, my spiritual body with peace.
i get home to find david chaim smiths 'blazing dew of stars' waiting for me, if it's as good as 'sacrificial universe' i'm going to be thrilled but the present that beats them all is my priest = aura poster, signed by all the church members, and i must thank sam for asking richard ploog to add his name to it, when i have some cash i will get an appropriate frame for it. 
i don't think anyone sent me presents or gifts even knowing it was my birthday, they just kinda turned up due to some synchronistic singularity event. couldn't have asked for a better birthday really.

stuck in a logic cube its familiar oppression closes in incrementally. you don't notice at first, its slight changes in the ionosphere, murmurs in the aura, subtle sub sensory shifts to discrete environmental factors. 
the technology you carry is primitive, it's not sensitive to the kind of microscopic fluctuations that the logic cube imposes, you have the trusty moon powered zap gun at your side but it's powerless to defeat logic resonance. 
i was in a deep meditation, transfiguration of the eternal moment, an inverted time loop formed and i began to stretch it into a longer loop, thus thwarting time itself and perhaps the infiltration of the logic cube by proxy. the strategy was one of desperation as my meditation dissolved before me and my weakness began to get the better of me, self pity, anger, fluid stupidity. i put the zap gun to my head and considered the greatest escape but within moments the hands of fate had reached out and wrested the gun from my hand.
fate had the face of a familiar stranger, forever on the tip of recall, forever evasive.
the hands of fate had disarmed me and now guided me into their care, revealing the face of fate, a strange inversion of my own.
i looked into my negative self and thought deeply about how fickle chance is to only offer the negative polarity, nothing in between, there are no shades of grey in a logic cube.
i attempted to communicate with my face of fate but every word was met by another thus the two voices speak as one incomprehensible mish mash of sounds independently coherent but heard in union indistinguishable. i was perplexed, why the elaborate hoops to jump, the maze of paradoxes but as i shouted my frustration the face of fate just shouted back.
it took me 10 mins to get to the venue, and within the hour i was listening to the liberating sound of australian music played by the awesome steve kilbey, mark gable and richard ploog.
the logic cube shattered at the first chord, yeah i could breath, what an incredible inspired set list, familiar songs from paul kelly, hunters and collectors, the easybeats, angus and julia stoned and many more including the pinnacle of australian music the church, oh joy. 
around me lay the burnt out embers and residual dark energy, remnants from the cube, smouldering heat and vapours, burnt out circuitry and quantum machinery.
i picked up some pieces, they were warm to the touch and some glowed with soft radiation, some parts felt metal and others plastic, fragments from containment weaponry, looks like i was saved in the nick of time.
can't wait to see this show again, i'll have to make it to the vanguard gig next month.



  





Wednesday, March 05, 2014

what a beautiful day, glorious, the birds are singing me a song from their secret language, telling a tale about the contendings of horus and set, it's complex and intricate, strange rhythms that are difficult for human ears to fully appreciate, and sometimes the insect kingdom will riff along, swelling the tones and suddenly cut out leaving only bird.
the song itself takes several hours, it's a conceptual piece in many ways structured in layers but latticed with arrangements very few humans could fathom, there's a mathematics to it but its pure math and thus eventually transcends into symbolism. 
at the beginning set and horus are pleading their case to the ennead at heliopolis, and the heliopolis reply thus there are nine parts plus the central voices of set and horus and this act can last for up to three hours, sometimes much longer and it does sound a little like a phillip glass piece at it's most coherent but then becomes something rachmaninov like, far to complex for me to understand completely. 
i'm laying on my sofa, feeling invigorated by this beautiful serenade when the sun comes streaming in through the trees, through the leaves and screen doors and right onto my skin, glorious. this must be the sky god making an appearance. i relax and probably fall asleep.
when i awake the birds are in a dramatic aria, set and horus in combat once again, its almost painfully suspenseful and the screeching of the birds is irritating. i let that go, and eventually horus emerges as victor. the birds disappear one by one, fluttering away from the garden until i am left with the whispering of two voices, that of the good ravens huginn and muninn, they tell me that horus is also odysseus and ulysses and depart.
i ponder my role as receiver of arcane information and obscure knowledge, why didn't i become a car mechanic, i think. of what possible use is this skill, if indeed it is a skill. 
the birds have gone, the insects vanished only some violent mosquitoes hanging around sucking my blood and pan at my feet. he raises his head and we share a knowing look we are both dreamers, inhabiting a dream.

Tuesday, March 04, 2014

watery sway of the ocean, lapping in dawn, making that roar once in a full moon, i'm standing at the sealine gazing at the watercolour sky, waiting for my invitation as those watery tendrils wrap around me, pulling me closer, i hear the whisper of neptune and walk into the grey blue washed out emptiness, letting it consume me in it's embrace and warmth. i could swim for a thousand days, float away adrift on some pacific current, all it takes is a moment of surrender. 
my eyelids are heavy, muscles aching and weary.
i stretch out and dive down, under the wave, surfacing and ready to ride. 
waves this morning are far and few between but when it comes it's wonderful, my body lifted up in some viscous anti gravity, frictionless i shoot forwards. the ride is endless, i feel my lungs holding on, i see the shoreline, some trees and the surf hut, i'm moving forwards so fast, i'm leaving things behind.
fragments fall away, fractured thoughts, painful memories, sadness, some deep profound sadness that's been eating away at me for far to long, i catch glimpses of all the people i lost, i see them in the water as i rocket past them. everything falls away, people disappear, my memories of them fade, until i am left alone, still moving on my eternal trajectory, forwards until only i am left in the water, my skin dissolving around me, tensions leave as my muscles fall away, nerves and organs just falling behind in the wake, my face is the last to fade away, my ears float from the side of my face, my nose is gone, i'm left looking out from my eyes and then they blink a few times and just don't open.
where am i?
my thoughts are fading, i feel the absence of everything. nothing. 


Monday, March 03, 2014

the cold war just warmed up, the ukraine, russia europa that old angry beast, always looking for a punch up when its economy is on the wane, war what is it good for?
its good for arms manufacturing, banks and politicians, its good for zombies brainwashed to do other peoples fighting, its good for the military machine, watch how they all take sides and propagate a truth.
who know's what is really going on, all we can say is people want more control over their own futures and governments don't even allow us a future anymore. 
thats the globalist agenda baby, socialist, capitalist all you do by taking a side is create the illusion of a space between you and the others. shuffling chairs on the titanic, here have mine. 'oh waiter, more ice please.'


so i'm in a mall with wild child confessing my depression and general malaise with human has beens, bring on the next species, what a fucking joke we are, pathetic. we wander around a shop looking at some products, soap and stuff and i must admit i find it bewildering, what is all this crap, the labels and names, the packaging, the words...i start ranting away and wild one moves away, people start acting nervous but it's all pouring out from me in one uncontrollable unstoppable torrent, 'it's all just meaningless, what is this, why do we need it, why do people buy all this shit, look at us, all brainwashed, there's no hope for anyone, it's just a machine churning out endless crap, it never ends, on and on until we are dead or dying from all the crap we buy and put on our skin and into our bodies, i hate it, i loathe it, i just fucking hate it all.'
now people are thinking about calling security, i can see it in their eyes, in their tragic plastic non human faces, fortunately wild child pulls me away to get me some food thus saving me from some encounter with uniforms and the public from my deranged narrative.
we enter a food court, it's completely chinese in here, everyone eats really fast with narrow eyes focused in fear at these two weird people trespassing in their food court, they move in hive formation, chattering away in mandarin, casting strange psychic thoughts at our requests for non animal food. we search for non animal food and eventually find some.
we have an interesting conversation about contemporary australia, about barry o what's his name, the idiot premier who gives discounts to chinese home buyers, squeezing everyone else out, pushing rents through the roof, the fracking king on nsw, the guy who has sold out all of us because there is no opposition, all of us struggling natives, over crowded, over priced, over it! china where you cannot eat the food, it's toxic, those in the know say don't live there longer than three years because the soil is so poison the food kills you. hence the buying of australian farmlands. the govt body in china have amassed trillions in swiss banks for their great escape and our own governments continually push the globalist agenda, wages decrease, the power of the individual decreases against the corporation, ahh, it's very sad to watch as the game unfolds, game of thrones, this is it!  
anyway there is good news, we both have something to look forwards to, three nights of quality bliss, unfortunately i can't make two nights due to my duty and ingrained work ethic but i will be at a special gig on thursday night, i'm not sure exactly what it is but i know it will be amazing and sweep away my artificial blues with something real.



recently the abc ran a documentary on the IDF and how they target palestinian teenagers, it suggested that they crucify prisoners and interrogate them without parental precense. as a representative for israel they had a jewish woman settler whom was clearly deranged. i make no exceptions, the settlers are nutcases, mostly american fundamentalist's and 99% of the israelis don't support them.
so the documentary which i watched in shock made some very serious disgusting allegations, none were verified, none were substantiated but worse than this it never once mentioned the fogal family.
obviously like any military force on earth mistakes are made, over zealous or frightened young soldiers can over react and i'm not for one minute suggesting they should not be criticised neither do i think that israel should not be criticised, it's the only country in the middle east that allows it and believe me within its own population are it's worst and harshest critics, that can often make a healthy society depending on perspective, hugo chavaz wouldn't have agreed but i think it's important.
the IDF did target young palestinian teenagers, it's true and i feel unjustifiable but here's why it chose that direction, the two murderers of the fogal family broke into their home and slit a babies throat while she slept and then killed the other three children and their parents in the same brutal way. the murders were committed by teenagers.
i felt this was reasonable background information and any self respecting journalist would include this as to the genesis of the IDF's new response and change in tactic. but the abc chose not to mention this at all.
one can argue disputed territory, occupation and historical claims but until america gives back california to mexico and australia give back sydney to the aboriginal people israel will always have a valid claim to remain where it is. any land it won in war is on the negotiating table and ariel sharon did make a trade for peace but got more war instead.
anyways, back to the documentary. 
last weekend greg sheridan wrote a piece critiquing the documentary, and he was probably the only journalist who took this stance and i wrote a letter to the australian newspaper supporting him, but also mentioning the fogal murder. 
the letter was published but it was butchered, they edited out the substantial truth of the matter and printed a pale imitation of what i wrote.
to this day palestinian television praises the two murderers as heroes. 
heroes!
i didn't see people in europe demonstrating, people venting their ire, the murder like most of the attacks within israel hardly gets a mention outside the country, only when israel defends itself is they calls for boycotts.
the delegitimisation of israel begun in the 70's but has now reached an absurd point, as i have said before, it's pathological and i believe currently an epidemic. history repeats in cycles that are becoming more and more compressed in time, i imagine recent events in the ukraine and russia create a tension that we have seen before, look for the patterns, will we learn anything, i think not.

Sunday, March 02, 2014

the silent tear 
sorrowed veil 
the curtain descends
beyond the pale
two opposing 'righteous' forces, ha!
in uniforms and military 
clash of civilisations 
negated violently and silently
who will witness
who will see
the journalist 
the cameraman
soft reportage fabricated upon faith
fools invested in bankruptcy 
only to find they themselves are not free
idiots believe what they read
and never learn they are again deceived.
the moral and the moraliser
askew upon oceanic lie
repeated over and over until its blind faith
is satans tool on which to lay
the vanguard is obscured by myth
battlefield soundbyte relayed
across headlines and fatebook page
until all reason will decay
and savage history completes its turn
all patterns repeated
in fractals and panoramic death
thats how truth is defeated.
wake up my zombie comrade
we were born in this machinery 
sucking life from our bones 
with fickle straws and mobile phones,
technology won't liberate our fate,
in the graveyard of ideology
only love will set us free
only love can set us free
only love.
we travel further and deeper
we go with in
the self is all we need to conquer
and then we can begin again.
oh arjuna, krishna come!
i am suffering, just like 
everyone








Saturday, March 01, 2014

i've very little experience with cancer. my uncle whom i was very close with died from cancer but he really wanted to die after loosing his wife. he prayed to god to take him and within a week he was diagnosed with cancer. i nursed him but ended up attending to his immediate family who did not want him to die, dealing with their grief and the way they held on to him. 
i read him the tibetan book of living and dying and ended up reading it to them. when he died his family had already let him go and it was quite beautiful.
but to be honest i still don't know what cancer is, i just assumed it was something people got, people who suppress emotions, people who deal in meat and artificial foods, people who sunbake at midday for hours, i just put it aside and never considered it, but recently a friend, someone i don't really know at all yet feel very close to told me she had some sort of cancer removed.
it bugged me, this is a great person, one of those once in a lifetime peoples, how can she have suffered cancer, it's not fair, neither is it just. it's sent me into a depression, on top of my stupid worries about money and shit, here's some thing in the world that just attacks random people. i wanted to say something constructive but i'm at a loss, this person lives a good life, has a beautiful heart, really, there is nothing as evil as cancer when you think about it.
it's everywhere isn't it? it's an indiscriminate enemy of life. 
i looked up and did a little research but still i'm baffled.
the only way i can see that we can evade this is to remove ourselves from cities, radiation technology, artificial food and contaminated water and artificially induced stress.
its possible to reverse and cure cancer, i met some people whom did this with plants, ayahuscia being the most effective but the seed inside apricot kernels are very effective although illegal to take, i met people who cured bowel cancer with them. yesterday i was reading about a berry called poke berry, apparently it is really effective but you need to take the correct dose. it's illegal almost everywhere except australia.
why are these things illegal?
especially if they heal people!
the answer is sinister and obvious, the drug company don't want healthy people, it's a trap, hook up to the pharmaceutical model and stay sick, take a chance with nature and there's hope but they jail you for it.
what the fuck.
stop the world, i wanna get off, the world of man is enough to give you cancer if you think about it!
i hope my friend is okay, outta all the people i know, she's the sunshine in our lives, even from this distance.