back at the enmore i am there to see and listen to one of my favourite political commentators douglas murray in a show called uncomfortable conversations, which is basically a chat hosted by some young gay podcast guy with the formidable intellect of douglas whom is also gay but in a less obvious way. i was there really to support douglas as he has been a lone sane voice and spokesman for israel in the current madness. he is not only articulate but funny, and easy to like. somehow i ended up down the front, and i think as douglas walks on stage can see he is overwhelmed by the audience applause. 

from the start it's a confrontational interview, the host is good, he challenges murray's stance and attempts to advocate for the other side, yet murray is able to remain calm and in control offering a counter- argument that is rational and reasonable. 

time flies by, most of what is discussed is already known to me, and although i am on side with murray i feel an elevated respect for a man who challenges the status quo and addresses the establishment with such ferocity and analysis. he can take apart the counter argument in the vein of that other incredible mind of the late christopher hitchens whom i also heard once demolish a pro-theocratic iranian audience. absolutely remarkable non politically correct these two champions are the last of a dying breed.

one thing that murray explains is how it is better to be true to what's just and true than what's expected as it's the trend, fashion or peer pressure forces you into. he says, 'one path leads to slavery, the other freedom, you may make a lot of enemies but you will also make good and true friends.'

at the end i stand up and clap, i chat with a few people in the packed enmore. we all agree it's nice not to feel so alone politically, and i must admit for the first time in a long time it was. 

as usual there are a crowd of morons outside protesting, screaming and spitting at people. the usual chants of 'rivers and seas' and intimidation. apparently they attempted to get the event closed down but the enmore refused and douglas mentioned how brave the management were to continue with the event as the pressure was quite hard with even staff being put at risk.

interesting times. 

on the way home i sit opposite a guy listening to his phone, and i pick up the familiar voice of douglas. i ask if he saw the interview and he says he just arrived from adelaide and loves murray but didn't know he was in town. we have a lively discussion all the way to gosford about israel and ezekiel 37, 38. 

we both share our stories about travels through israel, the incredible cities of tel aviv and jerusalem. about the amazing beauty of the galilee and the remarkable transformation of the dessert in such a short time. it's the beginning of some sort of friendship, the guy is very intelligent, and some sort of christian minister. whatever he is he attempts to explain the concept of jesus on the cross and the implications of sin to me. i don't have the heart to tell him i don't believe in sin or satan but listen actively as i never quite understood the idea of 'dying for our sins' and to be honest still don't but i am closer to it, thanks to this gentleman on the train. 

when i leave at gosford i wonder if i just encountered some sort of angel like intelligence. i don't know, how else do you explain that sparkle in his eyes.

 the

violence

of

truth

in the tesla all is quiet as we weave the roads to get to the highway, it's a smooth elegant ride. the moonroof has stolen my heart, and i look out gazing at the skies, the huge raincloud forming over the horizons. we hit the highway and i see a lone white goat standing upon a huge rock face. i have no idea how he can get back as the face is sheer but by the time i ponder the goats dilemma we are in the city.

it's always fantastic to see dave, ryissa and wild child, these are my church friends, and all evening i feel weird. i feel like i am having an illicit relationship with another band. the damned.

and we watch tim rodgers doing iggy pop with the hard ons. when the damned appear it's mental. far too loud, slightly distorted. it gets louder. it gets more distorted. my head feels like it's going to explode.  my ears hurt, it's painful, an ordeal. i never should have come i think, i'm a church man, this london punk thing was great when i was young, but now i need to listen. i need subtlety, nuance and elegance not loudness and distortion. the vocals sound muffled. i can't recognise words or songs. as a band they are a strange group, each member completely different from one another. captain sensible is an idiot, swearing and carrying on, we do get a little happy talk from him but mostly it's incomprehensible nonsense. david vanian is just a strange front man in a black suit and wide brimmed hat, he hardly speaks or ever shows his face. he walks from one side of the stage to the other, hangs in the shadows, hardly speaks to anyone else on stage. the keyboard man is a freak, he's the most animated as he attempts to pull in the audience. the songs whizz by at ten million miles an hour. 

when it's over it's a relief. 

in the old days before babel man could speak to all beasts, the communication was elegant and almost telepathic in nature. once has to also accept a lot of nuance is non verbal anyways but most beasts had a face and faces are easy to read in communications. 

over the decades i have found i am able o speak with large spiders. this is a strange thing indeed as i am very nervous around them however after the initial shock of discovering a huntsman or tarantula in my home i manage to calm down and work out a strategy on how to live with the beast.

the usual one is a pact.

the spider can stay as long as it either keeps out of my way or checks in with me to show where it may lurk so that there are no big surprises. 

this seems to work to some extent and over decades has proved successful.

about two months ago i was greeted by a huge tarantula in my bathroom at about two am after flicking on the light. it was motionless upon the wall. the size of it was frightening, it was straight out of the amazon, the size of my hand and very hairy and a deep brown colour. i was petrified at first but refused to give into the vacuum cleaner stratagem, or the plastic box and a vinyl record, run to the garden trick. i just didn't want this spider anywhere near me, no matter what protection stood between us. besides these types of spiders are very good for housecleaning.

so the pact was made. 

and it has lasted two months.  

the angry sea exonerates me as it spits me out, somewhat battered after a wild encounter with it's undercurrents, mammoth waves and chaotic nature. i stagger back towards the shore looking around me i realise i am the only single person who is in the surf. i knew i wouldn't catch any waves but i just needed to wake up and get wet.

later i bump into my friend monique who is off to meditate upon her next painting. i see her art around the town, it's really good, part fairy, nature and spirals, always white and snow like. we chat about the surf, she's already been in. monique swims every day, she's quite the dolphin and a much better swimmer than i. her friend peter is also an amazing swimmer, he's also my chiropractor. after my swims i always enjoy chatting with them and laughing, these mornings have been very nice lately, as we flirt from subject to subject. i like their politics, almost in alignment with my own. 

back home i watch douglas murrey on you tube, possibly the most intelligent political commentator at the moment. he gets about and few dare challenge his arguments for fear of being humiliated i guess. later some joe rogan, dan borngonnio and a documentary about aliens. between books i can't decide what to read next, choice paralysis as my piscean nature kicks in, it's a very tricky process. in the old days i would just grab something and start reading it, but now the whole thing causes me endless anxiety. i guess it's tied up with time and mortality. as i age i understand time is finite subjectively, therefore i want to saviour it and not waste so much of it reading second rate stuff, although nothing around me is really second rate. it's just priority.

later i do some boxing, half hour of intense movements and channelling anger. it's good but in the heat i find myself exhausted and covered in sweat. where's that ocean i think, ironically.

half way through the plant hunter and it's a great read so far as it follows harry compton's search for a mysterious icicle tree.

from the old kings road in chelsea  across half the world to deepest china. it has all the makings of a classic. a hapless hero with nothing to loose, on the run and chased by unscrupulous dealers. it has an ocean voyage, loads of information about rare plants and the opium wars. i'm about half way through and love it. it's a classic english adventure for adults. harry has just sealed a deal with a young widow and together they embark upon a voyage up the yangtze river, pursuing the plant that would transform both their lives. 

around noon i remember i have a free ticket to the mind body spirit festival so i jump into the hybrid and catch a train, (only it's a bus as there is track work) into darling harbour. the bus turns out to be non stop so it's actually faster. i read a big chunk of my new book which is rather good so far. 

darling harbour has changed quite a lot since last time i pottered about there, it's packed with tourists and people eating ice creams, there's a huge commotion near a big stage as i have to navigate the crowds, there's awful music and signs written in alien languages, and as i pass by i see it is some sort of festival celebrating serbian culture. a big stage suddenly fills up with people in traditional serbian outfits and some horrible music blasts out ruining the perfect summer day, as i quicken my pace and head to the conference centre.

inside mind body there is no spirit, it's just your corporate like, small business stuff catching up and cashing in with the public. crystals meet hyper-vibrational machines, nutrition, organic supplements and tarot cards. retreats for yoga, meditation and exotic spa weekends. i've only been there five minites and i'm bored. the only stall i find interesting is a feather stall where i manage to get some lovely feathers for my hair. i do chat to a few people, all are very complementary, 'you have a nice energy,' they all say. cynical me, just sees it as part of their sales pitch. i nibble on some very nice new zealand olives, some amazing cocoa beans and drink various herbals, it's all very civilised and dull. i sleip away and make for the japanese bookshop where at least my brain can awaken.  now, todays book hual is rather excellent, 'paul of dune' an in between novel that is to fill the 12 year gap between book one and two, i get some new don winslow crime novels, and a stanislaw lem collection of short stories. as i make my way to the cash register i pick up another book of short stories by leannora carrington. 

somewhere along the way someone asks me the date and as i tell them i remember today is my birthday, yep. all in all it's not a bad day i think as i wait for the bus home. 

if you think you know almost all there is to know about david bowie, this is a great book. it really surprised me with it's fresh new information about his connections to people and attached gossip. i read it in about two days, it's not difficult and leaves you hungering for more as you plough your way through davids relationships with the famous and infamous. there's some great stories in here,  and some really surprising events that were new to me. did you know it was bowie taught micheal jackson to moonwalk! it's so weird, yet useless information, the type i find fascinating and easy to store in my bowie trivia filled brain. anyways i really liked this one.  

dune part two. i'd have preferred the whole dune story in one massive 15 hour orgy of film but i understand it's a complex story and perhaps people need time to follow it and process the many aspects within it's narrative. 
it really is the best science fiction novel written, therefore there is no reason why it can't be one of the best films, and it certainly could be, given the next episodes match the first two. i enjoyed dune part two, it was perfect and spectacular. the sound was amazing, far improved than the first which was a little bombastic for my tastes. i particularly liked the lighting, although i wanted more from the sandworm scenes, a little more detail and there's one part where the sandworms are being ridden into battle by fremen and it does look kind of ridiculous. however that is a minor criticism. i love the way the harkonen scenes are so contrasty, at one point the film becomes black and white, and i love the fyad character played by austin butler (elvis) who is going to be the next big thing. the fight scene between him and paul is basically the template off how fight scenes like this need to be filmed, it's incredible. but the story itself is remarkable as it totally inverts the usual storyline of the hero, although it will be in the next film this becomes obvious, the seeds are sown in this one. 
at the conclusion when paul calls for 'holy war' (jihad) you can begin to see how the story will take a sharp turn. 
well worth seeing on a big screen, just for the soundtrack. i must admit i would have liked subtitles as i missed some of the dialogue being somewhat deaf but all in all, fantastic stuff. 

zone of interest

by

the deep fix

there's a chronic rift

a schism

it's not quite a hole

or a void unfilled

or any other ism

welcome friend

enemy

you are no guest

don't come in

to the zone of interest.

bones turns to dust

it's the season in hell

not quite winter

but you can't tell 

in the image of man

come on in

unfamiliar stranger

but do not rest

when you find yourself in

this zone of interest

strange dream. 

it's london, i'm getting a lift with an old friend martin, we are going to a music event but first he has to go off to a doctors. we are driving in a beaten up old van, which rolls up into a driveway, one story clinic into which martin disappears. later we get to the event, out friends are there, everyone preparing for the competition. we have been told to bring our own lunch, everything is packed away into a big cupboard. the event finishes, i somehow get locked in the room and miss my spot but later everyone returns, we begin to pack up. i have not eaten and go looking for my lunch. it's gone but a couple of non english girls point me towards a high cupboard filled with chocolate. the girls are laughing as i say i can't eat it and they grab it themselves. eventually i discover my lunch has been stolen. then the girls follow me around and we return to the area martin is. martin flirts with one of the girls, as we prepare to leave. they follow us out to the van, we say goodbye. martin drops me off outside my place. i enter and fall asleep. i awake in the night to hear heavy rainfall. the phone rings, a mysterious voice tells me he likes my music and wants to release a few albums with me, he asks me to send him some stuff. he's quite a big, well known dude but is in a rush so when i ask him what address he can;t make up his mind. while he keeps me on the line i hear a crash from the lounge, it's huge followed by a gush of water. i have to wait for the address and then hang up, run down the steps to see a hole in my roof, water everywhere. i'm puzzled as there used to be a huge white fluffy rug there but it's missing instead a spray of shattered glass and my fave bowie picture ripped and partly soaking wet. half is still in the frame. i follow the glass into another room where another rug is missing and the room trashed. i run out the door feeling confused and angry. 

i wake up, it's about 30 mins before dawn. everything is where it should be. i feel stupid checking but the dream was so real and vivid, so detailed i carried it with me into my waking state.