'green rapture, omegendorph, polydichloric euthimal, tetrameth, synthmesc, slurm, can d, chew z, jj 180, narkidrine, p- tabs, hyrogen ether, melange, sapho juice, jaspers delight, curious yellow, somatic ss, prozium, nepenthe, shatter, dyler 1000, mdt-48, diffuse, crystal zone, quicken, gain, somnabsolute, nevermind, cake mix, smithereen...'
'wait go back.'
'cake, smith...'
'before cake.'
'nevermind.'
'yeah, what's the story.'
she pulls out the small vial from the case from which she has pointed out almost the entire contents. 
it's transparent but not the same density as water, i watch it swirl in the vial, a cross between mercury and purple haze. i unscrew the top and bring it under my nose, slowly drawing in the odour, faintly reminiscent of...mmm, that's strange it's familiar but i can't place it, it's on the tip of my tongue for a moment and then is swallowed up into an ocean of forgetfulness. 
'i've never heard of this before.'
'it's from a captain mission short story.'
i have to smile, but i'm not sure quite what to say.
'sounds just what i need.'
'be careful, you just drop it under the tongue. one drop only, it's unused outside of the story.'
'any side effects in that story?'
'undoubtedly there will be.'
'how did you get it?'
'trade secret.'
she takes my cash and starts tiding up her case, rearranging everything into respective positions, her hair shines, she looks so efficient, businesslike. i wonder what she likes to indulge in.
'do you use any of these?'
a smile breaks through her professionalism, as if that's the question she has been waiting for. i'm sitting down and now she stands over me, 'no, i never use anything. i think it's awfully bad practice for a dealer to indulge don't you?'
'yeah, i guess it makes sense but how do you know your product.'
'chemistry mission, i am a professor of neural chemistry, it's all in the science.'
'mmm, i'm skeptical about science.'
'you just invested in it.'
outplayed, suddenly i like her, i'm finding attractive elements about her, that incredible shine in her hair, her fingers, that aura of confidence. 
'i'll see myself out mission, let me know how you go.'
i end up escorting her to the car, it's a range rover epoque, white, immaculate. she gets in and i wave goodbye.
i place the vial in my fridge along with various other nefarious substances. 
time passes, days fall into weeks, weeks turn to months and everytime i open my fridge i see the vial, it's there sitting next to the bottle of nomadic pollen, it's always there in place no matter the changes to my fridge contents the vial remains the same. i wonder why i have not tried it, never mind.   
                  

   

nice little burst of direct sunlight, snorted through the skin, pure gold light running through my lymphatic system, oxytocin tidal wave. my dealer gives me what i need, she's looking pretty chilled out herself in a faux fur coat and bat skin pants, glammed up like an decadent heiress looking for a cheap thrill in a west berlin art gallery.
'you okay, those crazy fucking druids you like sent me over to check on you.'
'yeah, yeah i'm turning into an old misanthropic reclusive joker, can't even take myself seriously.'
'well mission it's about time for me to go, have you got any thing you want me to take back.'
'no nothing, just tell them i was not home, missing in action, absent without leave.'
'you know those crazy guys will ask after you?'
i sit back sucking in some nice velvety spliff smoke, the short burst of summer is passing, i force my mind into the moment.
'just send love and light.'
'fuck off mission, you have no light left, and don't get me started on love.'
'well just send them my best wishes then.'
she smiles in that sort of 'check' smile, 'you don't have any wishes left mission, you are wished out.'
'ah it's better than being washed up hey?'
i slip outta check but it's only a matter of time, you know how it is with these exotic bored goddesses, they got you by the balls and the brains.
we laugh, as if she's read my mind.
'you know you're the first person i have actually spoken to outside of work for weeks.' 
'soak it up.'
is she referring to the sun or herself. my slow mechanisms churn over in the ambiguity, like quicksand of the mind. i'm bewildered and uncertain of what to say.
'tick tock tick tock...' she whispers, red lips like some space enigma. 
i'm sinking into the sofa, the permutations flashing through my skull like a geiger counter, has she turned into a clock, is she referring to me and her, is she actually suggesting that time is running out. 
i can't be certain but i think the last option escapes my lips and i vocalise it.
god, those legs look incredible, and my mind is jelly, did i smoke to much, am i loosing my senses.
'i'm sorry, i was just soaking it up, it's not everyday i get visitors. especially ones so glamorous.'
ouch! that smirk was condescending, she put me in my place, if things here were any more awkward i'd be in a surreal hugh grant movie. 
the sun disappears behind a cloud and the temperature drops significantly. she wraps the coat around her, leans towards me and takes the joint that is burning in my hand. 
'so will you be okay, i will return.'
i'm about to ask when but she puts her lips in a electrifying proximity to my ear and whispers, 'sooner than you think.'
my eye's close, the day fades away, it get's cold fast. 

fucking and punching, kicking out the jams, against the pricks and the hopeless fated inevitable conclusion that i can't get to the city despite my will to. the planets collude, the gods mock me laughing down at my stupid plan, although well intentioned falling apart in rain. 

fuck it! can't fight this. i would have loved to have seen the glide show with sk playing williams tunes, what a great night, i had it all planned out in my head, my king street shuffle, but i couldn't even make it out the front door. it wasn't for want of trying. 

i spend the evening alone, watching the fucking darkness and storm swallow up the world and leave me very alone. i'd probably watch some tv but there's nothing, not even a dim light anywhere, just blackness and wet. the candle, a burnt out old tea light i have splutters forth some second hand light, it barely allows me sight to navigate the bathroom and just when i start to settle 'puff' it's extinguished. 

can't even read, can't make a cup of tea, can't roll a spliff, can't listen to music, can't use the phone to call someone. i just paid my power bill, there's nothing coming down that down the line. dead. just trawl my sorry ass up the steps and get myself in bed, sleep it away.

i'd really love to get to the city and see sk play some glide tonight but it's impossible given the conditions and commitments i have, maybe tomorrow i can make it. it's going to be difficult, the stars will have to align but god knows, i'm jonesing for my fix.
i really am a fucking idiot sometimes, i emptied out my mailbox only to find a cd, fortunately it survived the rain, it's the new kilbey kennedy commissioned songs vol.2 and i'll be playing it tonight after sunset. i also found a few bills i neglected to pay.

in that fragment of sunshine, that pocket of splendid light i blitz the garden of libertaria formally known as the sactuary in madagascar libertatia.
tatia is latin for sorry and taria as 'relishes' therefore i am not sorry but rejoice in freedom as should all people. liber translates as 'free.'
yes digging, planting, working with stone, earthing myself to a reality transmission. under watchful eyes of the birds, kookaburras and their friends, the trees and plants all part of me, all attuned, all within my own ecology. this is my green movement, it's present, it's now, it's earthed.
pan is bemused by my toiling, my bones ache and sweat drips down my spine, he watches the absurd tasks of a canine sisyphus, carry water, chopping wood, for the animal kingdom aesthetic is quite different from human. but my garden begins to take more shape as i offer my muscle and manicure it's edges, oh behold the beauty. my shovel thrown down, my trowel abandoned i look around and begin to see my work. and it is good.

almost like the blues - l. cohen

i don't know, things get a bit freaky when i speak to my family in london and all they seem to say is there are thousands of people marching outside their doors shouting, hitler was right, finish the job,' i do my research with some reliable sites, get messages from trust worthy sources and yeah eurabia looks lost to me. i used to write about this stuff a lot, warning about the caliphate but then i stopped, i didn't wanna be negative and i liked some elements of islam, just as i like elements of other faiths. the problem is these days it's unfashionable to be a freethinker unless you are pro islam, socialist and belong to the green movement. so much for freethinking. to me these people are not using their brains or they are brainwashed, or they are as my good friend krishna says, already dead.
jews are not lizards, not responsible for fucking banking systems, in fact, they were excluded from europian banking and therefore set their own banks up, not fucking part of some conspiracy and zionism is 'only' a belief that jewish people have a homeland in a the middle east where they originate from.
the internet is filled with hate, pushed by these so called free thinkers, facts don't get in the way of them, reason certainly doesn't. planet x, the london olympics, 9-11, had nothing to do with zionists. yeah maybe some jew was involved somewhere in these things, there are criminal jews as well as everyone else.

when i was a kid i was forced to play with my parents friends kids at the weekends, horrible fucking jewish kids who i never liked at all, even when they grew up into adults i had nothing in common with them. apparently ashkenazi jews are quite different from serphadi ones (of which i am one) at skool i was always reminded i was jewish by the other kids, and if they couldn't bully me for that i was to dark for their tastes. fuck i've experienced racism from almost every single person i've known. 
some of my best friends hate the jews, some of them are convinced jews run their lives for some reason or another, most had never met one but once they met me it brought out their inner fascist, jesus i think, if it wasn't jews, zionists or fucking west indians who would there be to blame. fortunately it was always the girls at skool that stuck up for me and defended me, even against my nazi teachers who loved humiliating me in front of everyone else. 
my best friend at the time always defaulted to some moronic statement when he wanted to exert his power. me, i'm not religious in the slightest but i'd be constantly reminded about my identity externally. the more it happens the more jews are convinced israel has a place in the world. that's the fucking irony the left and islamo-facists do not understand, unless of course there's a counter conspiracy. that once all the jews are in one place it's easy to enact the ultimate solution. mmm, yeah there's something to think about. 
the nazis convinced the germans that jews were sub species, monkey's and rodents, they used some sort of science propaganda documentary films to brainwash the population into murdering six million of them in the well oiled machinery of germanic efficiency. the same patterns are seen resurfacing today, not by germans but all peoples from all over. intellectuals who are so dumb from group think, journalists to frightened to actually report the truth, socialists who have aligned themselves with hitlers best friends the radical islamists.
isis suddenly deemed bad by the world, who do you think hamas are? stupidity spreads itself like a virus, only israel is judged by a standard that no other country is judged by, that is anti semitic means. we tolerate the stoning of women, even the left wing feminists will not dare speak about it for offending their sympathies with islam. while yes, israel it far from perfect it's it's an incredible country, so fucking incredible the rest of the world hates it and delegitimises it's very history and culture without once questioning the details.

the final solution failed, so i guess people have to upgrade to the ultimate solution. i have respect for hamas, at least they are not deluded about who they are and what they want, which is to kill jews. i don't respect these other who cover it up with some sort of intellectual conspiracy all because its on a you tube feed or facebook. the worse are those idiotic jews like pape, lowinstien or chomski. they number about 0.04% of the total jewish population yet get a hell of a lot of exposure on in the media, guests at conferences and book festivals, yeah fair and balanced representation on our abc and bbc. (check out the balen report) 
the festival of dangerous ideas will always have some stupid moron giving a lecture on 'why israel should not exist' hardly a dangerous idea is it? half the world things that!
a better dangerous idea would be, 'why israel exists.'

zombie apocalypse. i saw it coming years ago in a dim witted, dumbed down europe where free speech restrictions were rampant, groupthink spread throughout the population and multiculturalism worked well until the zombie horde started chowing down on the brains of the individual. 1984, animal farm! read those books and apply the aspect of your brains that have been dumbed down, critical thinking. 
it used to be taught in classical education but now it's not even a university subject, it's the last thing they want you to know.

what about the palestinians?
if they voted for a government that accepted israelis right to exist they may get a government that does not squander the billions it receives in aid on weapons to destroy it. and consequently peace although i have no faith in this happening.

what about those settlers - scum, i hate them, send them back to america.

what about the khazars - i don't know. mass conversion sounds plausible to me. look at the way people embrace some religions now, god knows the influence that will have in a few hundred years on the political landscape of say, china or russia. in russia now most of the army is muslim which would be awkward if russia goes to war with a muslim nation. 

the west has never understood the middle east, it's always made terrible mistakes there. it still does because it cannot fathom a culture so vastly different from our own. a culture where dictators wield power and use force and brutality to keep everyone in check, these guys will not be ready for democracy for thousands of years. the middle east is tribal, it always has been, it's confused by the global arena, the west should leave it alone and let it sort itself out rather than applying some emotive value to it and looking through the prism of morality that makes no sense. inaction, capitulation translates as weakness.
  
israel understands this and is equally conflicted as well, a modern technological women friendly western culture in the middle east is perceived as an abhorrent, yet is has just as much a right to be there as the english or dutch man / woman does in sydney. 
internally it's population are split, people are fed up with fucking war and survival and having to justify their existence every single day.
eventually all these lines in the sand will disappear anyway, the geography of the world shifts endlessly. countries won't be defined by location but ideology but not for a long time. these are invisible countries, like internet sites and forums.

the ultimate solution - hack your brain, discern information, expel the pathological intent, detach from the hive mind, be an individual, stand out and up for the kind of freedom you desire not some stupid ancient book, not some fanatical leader, not some you tube video, not some trendy artist, not some meme that enslaves, not some fear of being different, not fitting in, not being accepted. fuck that, i rather have no friends than be a zombie.

sunlight streams into the morning, casually news from afar accompanies it, riots, demonstrations, family in distress, nervous and worried about the state of eurabria and what they face.
'history is a pattern, leave,' i suggest, 'better to die on your feet than on your knees to the black sun.'
'they are everywhere, it's incredible.'
'yep, everywhere, in all shapes all guises, some were probably your friends once upon a time.'
'we have no friends here.'
'then at least you know who the enemy is.'
'is this what it comes down to?'
'for us i guess. it's the darkness coming for light. you can't ignore the facts, it makes you part of the problem.'
'what do they want?'
'they want your light.'
the line goes dead and part of me goes dead to. 
i wander around mission control thinking about how detached i can be from the hideous reality of the global mass mess, fuck them, humanity is over rated anyway. if the zombies don't get you, ebola might, how many horsemen do you need? one's fucking enough!
my little pocket of paradise, coloured birds fly in for breakfast, lorikeets, crows, lyre birds and king parrots. i feed them some seeds, the water dragons run to me in their cartoon animation, legs flaying out. vibrant colours of life fill the garden, pan watches a kookaburra who is perched upon a tree stump. i find it hard to look out at the carnage, it upsets me, the vacant tragedy, soon they will come for the stumps.
even here, there is carnage of sorts, if you were a bird it would be hell, environmental catastrophe. 
mission control offers safe haven, they come, they know. captain mission of australia, don't have the same ring to it as francis of assisi but what the hell. it's a safe house for the homeless creatures of the world.
we all bask in the morning light.

i woke up one morning in the zombie apocalypse, it took me a while to get a grip on the landscape, but the undead stood out with their sympathies and political ideologies, calculated hate and pathological protocols. i took myself down to the clinic where professor x was dissecting a brain from a still raving body, it was twitching and spasming like it was in electrical ecstasy, it even had some reflex speech,ranting on about some jew conspiracy or the other, occasionally it's hands would twitch. he had it tied down to a big metal table. 
the top of the head was sawn right off and exposed brain still throbbed. 
'mission, hi, grab that pair of tongs,' the professor pointed to his work station. i gazed down at the array of tools and instruments. 
'these long ones, or the short ones?'
'the short ones and pass the clamps.'
i looked for what i thought may be clamps, the professor had a vast array of tools laid out in a mess on his bench.
i passed the tools to the professor, he was opening up the brain with a scalpel. some weird white cranial fluid spurted out in a jet.
'that's not sexy at all.'
'i have to keep the central nervous system functioning, i can't detach the brain stem but i can look inside this area, the limbic system is modulated by this node in the cerebellum.' 
i watched the professor holding up what appeared to be a strange little pod attached to some brain matter. 'this may be the problem right here. it looks like the synaptic reflex is calcified, permanently fused which explains the pathology.'
the zombie blurted out some kind of inverted babble it must have learnt from a you tube video, or picked up at one of it's mass demonstrations. 'wow, is there a cure professor?'
'no, one must aim for the head, it's a zombie apocalypse.' 
'is there a point to understanding the physiology then?'
'i'm a scientist, of course there's a point.'
the zombie twitched and made some incomprehensible sounds and then went silent.
i ate an apple, flicked through a magazine on exotic travel, put the kettle on and rolled a spliff. 
'professor, do you really think science can explain this?'
'no, it can understand the material density of the matter but the problem is an esoteric one which is your department.'
'mmm, cosmic war man, light vs darkness, it's all in revelations, everything becomes inverted, it's impossible to tell, either you get it or you don't.'
'well what does your intuition tell you?'
'aim for the head.' 
i passed the professor the burning bush.


  

wake to the congregated sky as it's torn asunder by pink light in a band. i watch its movement, touch it's face, stick my hand up in the air. the day begins, the drive, the flicker of thought leaves my mind by zen discipline, by ease and electra-glided flow, i blink out of existence, everywhere and nowhere for some peace and a cold hard shot at tranquillity.
when the synaptic kick in i hit the ground, muscles do their work, physicality becomes clear.
spring will be upon us soon, my tasks involve building a perimeter, i think in terms of stone, large sandstone blocks would be good, but also the idea of tall grass, ferns and tropical plants. i see it in my minds eye, after the tree carnage i am left exposed. does a man hear a tree fall, the answer is yes, i heard them fall, i felt them fall. the shock hit me hard, although fallen myself, i staggered down for my coffee with the birds only to find the barbarians had levelled the whole bushland behind me. two days later i'm still in shock, such carnage, my bird friends are spooked, they want answers i have not got.
i feed them and ponder my immediate problem, security. mission control is left vulnerably exposed. 
i can see myself in the garden for the next three days digging up dirt, planting trees and manicuring a perimeter. 
the idea depresses me at first, i rather just read plus i have a book to finish, but i must face the task. the task is my reluctant priority.
pan looks up at me, he knows the score. he is old now, slowed down so much it's quite a shock for me, he no longer even wants to come anywhere with me, his world revolves around laying in the sun and dreaming, food and water. i feel a scene of time edging it's way in to our soft lives, pan and i, two lone travellers thrown together by fate, a strange relationship, that this beautiful creature should love me so completely, that my birds come and visit us, the reptiles run down my path, the fish swim towards me. i am francis of assisi, a solider returned from war, not a good man, not a bad man.
the carpet of cloud blanketing the sky has dissipated, everything awash with coordinated blue. 
the fabrics are sewn, the song is sweet, the time is now.
   

the strange empty space that lies between us, how i travelled that distance, alone and isolated, reaching out, desiring some form of reconciliation. gave away this, gave away that, for what, a terrible price, an endless wrath, the fury of the world. it's all so hard, so wearing and hateful. 
doesn't hate just exhaust you? it exhausted me and now it's just a dying ember, yet for you it's the perpetual drive, age after age, irrational, pathological, it overwhelms everything, like an angry chaos. 
language is inverted, passions enter dangerous zones, history hijacked and rewritten, conspiracy after conspiracy all unravel, ignoble endings pile outside the door until the very sun is blackened, the bones of the dead are not enough and never will be, not while there is life. it's life you want to extinguish. my life.
when you see a river of blood baby, does history matter?
time is a strange illusion, those tibetans we emulate were once brutal killers who tortured millions of chinese and now the chinese are brutal captors of tibet. what does this say? 
you were born at one point and know only one point, yet your own existence is not one point, it's process within a process, an event. a 4 dimensional worm from inception to death, therefore perception is process to. baby it's is all insignificant in times ocean, karmic forces pull and push, cyclic patterns ebb and flow, but your own one single slice seems to be the sole focus of your attention, by proxy compassion. soon that compassion will appear abhorrent as the players are revealed, the forces of darkness are barbaric yet still you wave their flag, the forces of darkness will kill your babies, will stone your women, will execute your christ, buddha, goddess, spaghetti monster, the forces of darkness are the black sun incarnate at war with light, illumination.
it's coming, it's coming now!
choose your side because if you sit on the fence they will kill you to.


      

i drive through the rising dawn, watch the black night draw down a blue day, the highway empty stretching out, i head north in some sort of conquistador overdrive, into the frontier. 

home, what a fantastic feeling to be home again.

the shower hits me, pummelled by hot water, i come alive again.

the door bangs, it taken my karmic broker ages to arrange a visits, she's let herself in and stands on my shag rug flicking through a book on hindu love gods.

it's good to see her, we kiss, hug and kiss again. 

'mission, very nice place you have, now what's a girl have to do to get a latte around here.'

'come, sit down, i'll fix you.'

we wander into the lounge where she spills the contents of her case on my floor, glossy brochures, papers and a lipstick pack, some keys and a few pens and a sexy looking mobile phone. 

i make some coffee.

'so what you doing here?'

'i have some documents for you to sign.'

when i sit down i flick through the paperwork, she's stuck some yellow tabs where i need to make my mark. i scrawl my signature across the pages, 'what's all this about.'

'money management mission,' she fires back at me, 'you need to get things in order.'

I must look disappointed.

She hands me the coloured brochure, 'read this, it's all straightforward.' 

My face must give my thoughts away, 'jesus, i'll never open this let alone read it.'

she flicks through it carefully showing me the tables and graphs, my karma looks good, she tells me how to invest some here, some there, i nod my head and start falling asleep.

'come on, i'll take you for a drive.'

the car is a sporty one, it's got spoilers and slots over the bonnet. the windows tinted and when i sit down the seats are like the seats of a space ship.

acceleration pulls my body into the mould, i can feel the engine in my bones. torque as the turbo kicks in, and then next thing i know we are parking in terrible beach.

the ocean looks fantastically vivid, electric blue against a bright yellow sand. we drink iced coffee and sit in the sun.

'so, i'm sorted karma wise.'

'yeah, sorted, it's all growth.'

i feel happy. yeah real happy.

       

ginsberg asked burroughs,  'what is death?' 
his response: 'a gimmick. it’s the time-birth-death gimmick. can’t go on much longer.' 

took some time out on a train north, looking at small towns pass me by, sporadic bursts of human activities, monuments and towers but mostly bushland, rivers, the ocean. way up the northern coast line, i had my head buried in my book some of the time, sometimes i dozed into a deep train sleep, mostly just looked out of the window at the wonderful landscape.

i got as far as maitland and came home, watching a vibrant rich red sun hanging low over the horizon, the splendour of being so far away from everything touched me deeply, i felt the rays warm my skin and penetrate, their energy pass through my bones, i dreamed them inside my corpuscles and let them become me, like the days of old. 

somehow i ended up having dinner with wild childe, some late night noodles, some gourmet hot chocolate in a crowded noisy cafe. i told her some of my escapades, some tales about the past life. she laughed because i was wearing my pyjamas, extremely unfashionable, trying to be serious, in trendy towns, just having a laugh. 

of heaven i remember the world of man, it was an illusion of density, causing much pain and suffering from which the escape routes were closed to many. religion had contaminated spirituality, just like politics contaminates freedom. 
i abandoned all known causes of man's memetic pollution of eden, i wandered through forest fern and orchid, the woodland creatures showed me the way, the oceanic forces healed my wounds, the cosmic powers attuned my minds eye, the spiritual world knows war and battle to but it is fought in a purity where one really does love thy enemy. 
i remember the fear, the sickness, the hate, the perpetual cycles of history repeating itself over and over until all one could see was the blood, no telling from who it came, man woman, child, pagan, fascist, communist, libertarian. there would be no kingdom on earth until one finds the kingdom within. 
i remember the words of the sages who penetrated this veil of tears, they sang it out for us to join in harmonies and joyous raptures.