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. 

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.

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.

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

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.



  

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.

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. 

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.

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

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.

first time i've read scalzi. his first ever novel, written to see if he could write, yes, he can. it's reasonably paced, funny, slightly kooky and yeah pretty well thought out.
aliens who look very ugly and smell awful want assistance being introduced to humans, where would they go. 
hollywood.
i don't know, this book has everything going for it yet i was disappointed, i will have to read another scalzi novel to make my mind up about him but for no real reason i can think of this one didn't do it for me.

dark, science fiction noir, dystopian, chaldlereque, lean and mean with frequent violence, the new york future we all don't want where an ex garbageman is now an assassin currently under contract to an evangelical fundamentalist christian personality who has invented a new type of heaven. 
is it good, yeah for what it is but it's not my fave type of science fiction, neither is it my fave type of  novel, the characters are all pretty much unredeemable stereotypes, the plot slightly predictable. its an easy read, well put together with an interesting take on virtual reality but adam strnberghs novel is written for the movies not for lovers of literature and this is where it struggles. it's probably going to be a great film, snappy dialogue, lots of blood and fights, some special effects but at the end of the book i felt unsatisfied.  

old lonely captain mission wanders the nether worlds, betwixt tangents of expression, some fading hope, some glimmering prize, you gotta keep that goblet overflowing mission, don't get pulled into regret.
regret, how strange to have no regrets, what kind of life is that? charmed, sheltered or dishonest, it's extraordinary when people say they have no regrets, are they lying, surely they would have at least one?
me, i have a few dozen but it's okay, sometimes they haunt me, but mostly they don't.
so, i been playing 'static' a lot, enjoying it, seems to suit my moods, i watched the rain, my garden enjoyed the soaking, i feigned indifference, the dark skies, the massive rain cloud, the world outside waterlogged as i watched it all fall. tiny frogs jumped across my deck, some birds flew by looking for shelter, a lone kookaburra sits on my gate in a short interval between downpours. he cocks his head acknowledging me, hoping for a slice of bacon. the best i can do is a soy strip, sorry bird, i'm not your bacon kinda guy. 
my plants look happy, they give off that happy aura of nutrition and health. i hope my fern sprouts some new fronds, it looks really dead. some one told me it's the chemicals in the water, which rain does not possess, hence i can't water my garden as much as i would like. it's best nature look after them. i planted a few cacti to one side, they seem to be growing well, chasing the sun as does my aloe vera plants which have been resurrected.

anti social media is the future, isolated sites, one person controls everything, no comments, no interaction, in fact the site should be restricted from view open only to those who can hack their way through. 
my thoughts on the internet, the internet makes information flow faster, but the information get's proportionally dumber, thus people think they are smart but are in actual fact brainwashed zombies.
i take a photograph, attribute a quality to it, send it out with some memetic intention and if it's controversial enough to be infectious the boundary between lies and truth relinquish meaning. i make a statement, put it in quotation marks against a photograph of some dead respected face, and people attribute the quote to the face without checking or verification. 
the mentality slides over into all media because the verification process is dormant, nothing is true everything is permitted. the assassin is the medium itself, a war machine committing soft terrorism, infiltrating, mythologising and cutting up information, pasting it together in some bastard truth, illegitimacy runs rampant, the kingdom is forsaken, the war on terror is the same thing as the war on error.
social media self promotion, mostly lies, mostly fear, selling stuff, creating itself, self perpetuating nonsense, a distraction from the self.

the perfect images adorn this release for the aural journey of the apocryphacal collection of music within, some of these songs are whimsical abstract expressions, sketches of some invoked emotive landscape, glimpses of times past, future moments, transient space, static indeed, whispers within, transmission, live wire, captain mission receiving, loud and clear.
fragments of memories wash over me, activated dna collected past life memories, while these may be fictions, some come on so strong i can't help by attach some significance to their impact. it's a diverse affair, a compilation of ambience, commissioned songs, soundtracks and a strange cover of an alice cooper song, nothing really holds the songs together except for the centrifugal genius of sk.
let's investigate the whispers.
'flummoxed' kicks of with the kind of classic eighties groove i'm particularly fascinated with, i would have liked words, some poetry or spoken word but it pumps along and invites you inside the wreckage of the piano, the haunting vocal of the next song, that voice calling out 'come inside' and now i want that song to go on for so much longer, the sublime piano, simple, elegance fades fast just as the guitar gets interesting. was it just a ghost i heard? 
'the weird sisters' takes me to south east asia, a trio of black pyjama clad assassins, sisters trained by the khmer rouge, young killers with long swords moving silently through the jungle and ruins of ancient ankor ruins, the place over grown by dense vegetation, alien heat beating down on dark skin under the eye of towering buddha encased by vine.
a song arises in 'debbie and james' and i read this was written by someone else, it's very good, i really like the words and steve delivers them in some kind of languid style, the word's seem to slip away from his mouth like a dandelion being blown in the wind, spores in all directions, nifty guitars some bass notes that feel like dreams. 
'persian garden' the sound of strange arabian instruments, plucked harps, string vibration, there's an ambient pad at work, and my muscles start to relax, tension dissipates from my body, i'm slipping away now, time can't hold me. quite beautiful, almost narcotic peace descends, i wish i could sleep for a thousand and one nights. 
where doth tranquility lay?
the next number comes on like a wave of sinister western science, 'deserted exstacies,' it's forebodingly bringing me back to my body, short and slightly disturbing a transient moment, connection of vessels into the much softer 'flock' another ambient piece but almost the complete opposite of the previous song, this has an oriental mystical warmth i'm at ease with, it washes over me, soft reds and purples, some orange colour bathes me as i hear those chimes.
another song in 'crooked mile' the words blend into one another, i'm loosing myself, imagining a walk along the cliff, down clovelly to bondi, i remember my cat 'houdini' when steve mentions a cat. suddenly i'm feeling emotional, outta nowhere! i loved that cat, such sadness from divorce, sorrow slips out i guess, occasionally. 'we can go somewhere, nice' steve sings, i smile.
lovely simple piano playing along, plonk plonk plonk, i like piano. i like steve's playing, i wish he'd play a lot more, maybe do some piano gigs, in a suit with a candle. 
'elegant europe' feels out of place, i love the piano and the almost brass feel it generates, it is very european in a sense but it washes over me fast sending me into the 'fragments of a vase' to which i have immediate affinity, alien music, this is what we need on those sci fi movies. 
i've left earth now, orbiting some sexy purple planet, flirting with anterian women and those girls from pandorax 7. we watch the moons rise over the vortexian sea, we smoke alien weed and make love under the aqua moons. i'll stay here, thanks man.
'poison' had to google the original, i hated it! whatever happened to alice cooper, he was so cool, 'i wanna be elected' had a great video as well as being a great song. i recall it as a child, alice in a room dressed in a white suit with a pet chimp, and a room full of cash and they leap about singing, 'elected.' 
here we have steve doing some sort of elizabethan cover with strings and it's much more bearable than the original. the song really stands out from everything else on this cd, it's unexpected which is always good, but i never saw this coming, it's to strange for words really.
'latin ate thing' brings us back to the familiar beauty of piano bass and some very cool and groovy sounds, yeah i'm digging this tune hoping it lasts but it don't last, steve's teasing like that on this cd, it fades away into the ocean of static. 'come back, latin ate thing,' i call, but it's gone baby gone!
gone out to sea into 'seagirl' a strange pattern of harmonics, shimmering away just below the surface of a greek watery inlet. oh, that water so blue, as it always has been since homer.  
'carbon nitrogen oxygen' synthesiser sounds, haunting the home, my place shimmers in candle flame, flickering like time itself, the song goes straight through the corridor, the walls, the rooms, the space, it goes right through my bones as it leaves as eerily as it arrived.
from somewhere else, 'song for domenique' arrives with anchor points, frames of reference, sydney, melbourne via france, sexual chocolate, love, an affair, marriage, i sigh, story of the times, how come i missed out on the happy ending, i have to get out more, loves out there somewhere mission, it hides in the strangest places, molecular structures right? 
it's the sound of close encounters, i see a lonely mountain top military precision lighting, the mothership stirring up a starry night looms overhead, but it's not close encounters, it's some 'stately garden music.'
oh what a lovely introduction this would make to some thunderous rock but it fades away into...
yeah desert 'swagger and stagger' which i adore, love at first listen. its got the new mexico groove, minimal funk for rattlesnake women in cowboy boots and their lizard outlaw men, shoot first solve equations later. i been to that bar, had myself a few tequila slammers till the mescal kicked in and it all turned bad.
sweet song comes along, saves me from some situation i just created in my mind, strange song, 'and you'll leave laughing' reminds me of pierrot / harlequin for some reason, sadness under the fake smile, but you will leave laughing, 'the way fate moves is quite bizarre.' 
you got that right brother.
can't help but feel there's some secret philosophy within this simple little song, with its nursery rhyme energy but i'm already into 'the wild east' which starts off electronica and shifts gear into some fine guitar effects and loops, how i love this music, cast adrift i can feel the surf in my skin, i'd like to see some of this song used as surfing music, it would work, i hate the soundtracks they use on surf movies but this would work a treat. i can see it in my mind, just needs a good editor, those waves come in such perfect forms, just like steve's music. he's australia's crystal voyager.
'undergrowth' a portal into pans kingdom, i can follow the trail down into the woods, the animal kingdom, the flora and fauna, as the tone of the trees shift and slight alterations manifest, darker trunks, gnarly branches and root systems, i wander down, displaced and far from home, it's getting colder, the animals are frenzied as i enter the forbidden place to catch a glimpse of what mortals are prohibited to witness, the ancient gods. i peer through the dark static whispering through my hymn to pan.
when the 'panthalassic sea' kicks in i'm back in the surf, primal energies, the ocean that we came from, shall we return? i do everyday but... where is my baby?

well i feel like i travelled a long long way after listening to this music, i even feel like i seen many wonders in the static, places i never saw before, heard voices beckoning and strange hidden sounds desperately trying to be heard, all those colours and memories, transcended space and time and now i come back i feel kinda lonely, left here laying on my big deep rug, soft stoned, candles burnt down low, wobbly fan spinning around above me, coming out of an opium dream into the mundane. 

the next day i wander down a supermarket isle lost and confused, alienated from everything around me, nothing connecting up, people i can't reach, colours i can't cope with, signs that drive me mental and i think about that place, miscellanaea.
like the great adventurers and explorers who discovered new continents, kingdoms and people and tribes, they have to leave to file their reports, i make myself the pact to return soon, back to the static i know and love.







  

another perfect surf, powerful waves propel me with my fin cutting through, speed king, steering myself, if i wear flippers i will increase the speed by 100% the thought occurs to me, i even have good flippers in the garage, just need to put them in my car. there's no one else out there, me and the sunrise, in water clear enough to see the fish, they dart around me as i watch them with one eye on the horizon, the land curves around to a point in the north, the coastline of australia, i wonder what a voyage would be like, circumnavigating the whole country, how lovely, surfing beaches, staying in little beach towns. 
but i'm here, terrible beach, where the surf is perfect.
the last week i managed to surf myself to exhaustion, do the 24 hour crash, my body to weak to move from home, i can't even lift myself to answer the phone. i get the caffeine shakes as i cold turkey, sleep through the day, night, then back in the surf. 
it's shifted, small choppy waves, difficult to catch, i practice my underwater swimming,small lung capacity puts me at a disadvantage but i can negotiate a wave. 
the beach is covered in pumice stones, some volcanic activity out there. the water is so warm, bath like. 

i read two books, 'the last policeman' by ben winters. it's okay, the premise is interesting, 6 moths before a huge rock smashes into the earth and destroys all life a detective investigates what appears to be a suicide. under the circumstances suicides are part of the norm, a population dealing with the terrible inevitable circumstances in their own way, this forms the background that gradually becomes as fascinating as the main plot.

then it's the 'cambodian book of the dead' by tom vater, a german detective looking for a heir to a coffee empire in darkest khmer. this was a harrowing read, an education into the atrocities of the pol pot regime and the communist experiment of the khmer rouge. brilliantly written fast paced with some excellently well thought out characters including the terrifying villain, the white spider.

drummer moves in across the street, practices all day making a racket, but i hear she's improving, which is good, i hope she is diverse though cos at the moment it's all heavy metal. i have a head ache, migraine but pond man is coming over, i have to lift rocks, loads of them, reconstruct the pond. i get bitten by bugs, funnel web nest is discovered in the earth, fuck i'm panicked but it's okay, pond man comes and crushes the spiders with a rock. 
it's against my policy but he says we gotta work and it must be safe and i don't argue. he shows me the nest, lifting up a big rock, 'there's always an escape hatch, two exits.'
'clever critters,' i think aloud, 'that's what i need.'
after two hours the pond looks amazing, completely cleaned and restructured. i'm exhausted. 
the morning started very early, surfed the best it's ever been, caught many waves, out there on terrible beach alone, no one around, just me and the waves. perfecto.
my head ache may develop into migraine, i get them, my eyes burn, i have a shower and lay down, read a little of my new book, 'cambodian book of the dead.'
i think about writing the australian book of the dead, maybe start in a bar, a toilet cubicle with a girl in a tight red dress doing a line of cocaine and having sex. bursting out into a crowded club filled with hedonistic beautiful people all whacked out on drugs and alcohol, but then i loose interest and think about space, my mind floats out drifting past the horseshoe nebula, suddenly i think about jakob back in london and then my dad. i miss them both, i'd like to take my dad to the movies. 
i skype him, tell him i have posted the clint eastwood double pack, 'mystic river' and 'million dollar baby' movies, the only two he has not seen and the best clint films. we chat for a while, he's in fine form, i feel really happy and then its time to say goodbye. i don't wanna, i wanna stay and chat but my brains stopped working and can't think of anything else to say. 

it never ceases to amaze me how hypocritical the left wing are, how much hate they project is inversely proportional to the truth of their arguments, i find it fascinating and also irritating. 
examples of this, well it's everywhere. using something current lets look at the abc.
we should invert the argument, lets say we got various right wing ideologists to host the shows, who in turn invited right wing guests and right wing experts, rightwing comedians and right wing journalists, musicians, bloggers and philosophers. i imagine there would be a riot somewhere. i would join in.
well that's what the abc has, only in a left wing prison / prism, therefore all the current affairs is basically a one dimensional perspective. the only show broadcast by the supposedly right wing (libertarians) was on radio national once a week called, counterpoint. two brilliant journalists hosted this show and they were really smart, dry wit, intelligent guests and took the counterpoint on most subjects in the zeitgeist offering a wider perspective. this was quite interesting as much additional information about matters was aired, making a listener who is willing to be open minded broaden their knowledge, i found it healthy. however they were removed and replaced with someone less smarter and who towed the abc group think and now counter point is somewhat a pale imitation of the original.
so on the abc current affairs lets take a look at, mmm, okay media watch, been on the airwaves since 1989 hosted by 8 different personalities all from the left. so very little of the content actually focuses on anything that upsets or is controversial about anything to close to home. multiply this with various other shows all with a left agenda and what you have is propaganda. 
now, many people will attack the so called right wing murdoch media sometimes rightly so. they will say they control all opinion without realising the murdoch media actually employs far more lefties than the left wing media employs right wing journalists, and let's face it, the right wing is no longer the right wing of the old skool conservatives, they pretty much have the same agenda as the left, globalist, so we are all fucked either way as far as i am concerned. one side will tax you and burn the cash on building bigger government the other side will use the logical idea that by helping business grow they help everyone else, hence their alignment with big business often perceived as greedy but the horrible reality is the left do the same thing in a way, only they don't offer the incentive for business to expand, in fact why would a company start in australia if they are taxed heavily and there's heaps of red tape, when they can do the same thing some where else. therefore i find the whole argument pointless.
the other point about the press is murdoch is private, he can print what he likes. the abc is paid and funded by all australians so i don't think it's to much to ask for balance and fairness from them specifically.
take the broom through the abc, get rid of the wankers from the very unfunny chaser team, who are not funny and selectively offensive, get rid of barry cassidy host of insiders who should declare he's in the labour movement every time he makes a political statement, get rid of david marr who is a very poor excuse for an intellectual, jesus is that the best we can do? get rid of the media watch hosts and lets have an anarchists perspective, get rid of the drum and lets have a show where people actually disagree with one another, get rid of q and a which is basically a stacked deck where tony jones only interrupts the libertarians who are arguing well against whatever some stupid politically correct zombie has said. 
the comedy shows are basically politically correct diatribes and bland as fucking you can get, entertainment is shallow and fickle, adam hills your the beige of comedy, become edgy and dangerous instead of whining on about edgy and dangerous comedians like joan rivers whom you just don't get. comedy should be provocative and clever not fucking scatological inane comments. 
the abc is crap. it's lost whatever kudos it had, i don't care about the mistaken reportage over the navy, i just think they produce rubbish when it comes to political shows. 
why are people so resistant to change, why are the left so frightened of allowing the other side to have a say or platform? 
basically because the whole planet is divided now.
as william burroughs said, countries as we know them will cease to exist, the only thing that defines us will be ideologies. a communist in luton will be affiliated with a communist group in prague, a nazi in lima will be affiliated with a group in iceland and an anarchist in new deli will be affiliated to a group of individuals from where ever. these are the new nations, it's already happened and the left in their ignorance just re-enforce their own agenda.
for them there has to be an enemy, same with the greens, they need an enemy otherwise their argument is over. 
the liberal party in australia may not be perfect but they offer the individual far more in the way of liberty than the other main parties, the problem is you would never hear about that if you only read left wing media. 
i always hear both sides and make my own mind up. i'm no fucking clone, i think independently, i'm no sheep and i never will be, if you don't like it to bad sister. i'm never going to be a slave to ideology. people should be free to think what they wish to think, and as voltaire stated so eloquently, 'i disapprove of what you say but i defend your right to say it.'
actually he didn't say that at all, he said, 'think for yourselves and allow others the privilege of doing the same.' 
so reader, don't immerse yourself in one side of a debate, go read the australian for a change if you start your day with the smh and vice versa, challenge yourself before you start bleating your way into the slaughterhouse, have a wide range of views available along with an open mind, there lies the contradiction of captain mission. he smokes weed, he's well read and travelled, dead man is his fave film, he's sort of arty, he is a social worker, he makes songs about esoteric stuff and writes weird sci fi, yet he's not a green socialist, how can it be?
i am not into the environment, i'm into ecology, i'm not into the control or power games humanity plays, it's boring shit that belongs in history, we have to learn from the patterns of the past as they repeat themselves, i'm into spirit. love thy neighbour, love your enemy, all i see from the left wing is hate. yet some of these people constantly talk in spiritual terms, i don't align myself to it, where's the beauty, where's the truth? it ain't in the left any more than the right but there's no need to be hypocritical about it because its in the heart sister, not the head.

vegan butcher in newtown, i pop in while i'm on an excursion with some people, i heard lots of stuff about it and never had a chance to investigate and to be honest i'm underwhelmed considering i've looked at some of the english supermarkets who have whole isles dedicated to vegan products and a lot cheaper, however kudos as australia is a different market and the culture here is very different, it's going to take time for people to change and suzie spoon has her heart in the right place. plus her chilli vegan sausages are amazing so i suggested they start an online shopping so they can distribute widely. the central coast has no vegan butchers whatsoever. it wouldn't surprise me if suzie spoon was the first in australia although melbourne seems to have everything you could want when it comes to food.

i'm back in the surf, it's huge this morning, the pounding roar is still echoes in my ears, the moment i felt the water my heart seemed to wake up, my skin absorbing it's glory, man it was beautiful as i cut through the white wash out into the turbulent breaks and positioned myself for the waves.
one by one i surfed back to the shoreline, wave after wave, my body shuddering in the energy, massaged violently i stretched out, pushed down and was lifted. 

as far as the abc goes, yes it needs a complete sweep, it's ridiculously bias and stupidly adopts a group think approach. i don't want to watch a panel of people agreeing with one another in terms of good or bad, i want critical thinking, i want both sides of the argument, i want to hear the other side not blindly accept the primal notion that left is good and right is evil. that may have existed after the second world war and in the fifties but these days politics is slightly different. people are brainwashed zombies soaking up one side because they appear warm and fuzzy, the reality is left and right are almost the same in an area that i object to, they are both globalists. only one side lies about it more than the other. one sides taxes the public to fund waste and corruption, the other seems to think the wealthy will assist the poor, this has been the case considering some wealthy people are adopting various causes but any free thinking individual will be able to see it's all a lost cause. any country that surrenders sovereignty to the united nations is finished, the un has its own agenda and as i repeatedly report, it's more dangerous than anything you can imagine. 
however i'm just an observer, watching it all from mission control, watching information become manipulated and twisted as it always has been by various agendas and their followers, the problem is if you adopt a side you are the problem. politics like religion will never offer us answers, the secret is in the politics of the self. individuals have to sort their internal conflicts and agendas, their own power and controls, their own agendas before anything fundamental can change. 
in the john le carre novel 'the tailor of panama' a simple tailor gives false intelligence under pressure and starts a war, this is reflected in the bush administrations war on terror and possibly the events around 9-11.
what ever happened we were not told the full story, we were deceived and from that deception spread many others from all sides until information becomes useless, it's all lies. any individual creates a tube video that creates conspiracy and a million followers agree, is it true. must be. hitler made some videos that said, jews, gays and gypsies were descended from rats, he used science and some photographs. look how that story ended, conspiracy is real, yeah people in power are corrupt, we all know this to be true, it won't ever change, even rome suffered corruption. 
as long as people focus outwardly, they are not looking at themselves, and that's why nothing is true until you know who you are, until you heal thyself, and that can take lifetimes. 
i know it's wrong to do harm, i try not to, i have my pet hates and my own passions but they belong to me, i don't want to inflict them on others except occasionally they slip through. i don't like the big govt. it's the end of everything.
i'm so influenced by orwell's books 'animal farm' and '1984' i can't help but see things through their prism, he was as close to the truth on politics as you can get.

early morning starts without the prospect of the surf for three long days.  i drive down the freeway, its dark, i'm driving through dawn watching the first few rays of sunlight, i drink it up. 
there are people that eat light not food, there's a technique to it, i learnt it. you go through the spectrum, red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet. richard of york gave battle in vain. do this at dawn or dusk but never between.
sometimes if you feel creative you can throw in the odd cobalt blue or vermilion but if you feel like being extreme you have quite a few to chose from.

here's something that may help
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_colors_(compact)

i can't really remember anything other than the mnemonic and i think to be honest that's all that's required. it's about intention, imagination and ones sense of will.
i have no idea if this works or effects me in anyway what's so ever, the idea is preposterous but given that lot's of lifeforms can do this, after some consideration has a certain value to me, my objective is not to eat light only to see if i can, its vitamin d at worst. that's a form of energy, just like food. 
sometimes i find my mind just defaulting to this exercise as i cruise down the highway, it's not about really reaching the destination, it is the journey, because often there's enough information in the journey to be the destination.
anyway's i eat some light but i rather be in the surf catching waves.

the next morning is overcast and my drive feels like an english country road, i cruise in slow and easy observing a lot of police cars, their flashing lights beaming through the mist like a lifeboat in an angry foggy ocean. 
i'm listening to my breathing this morning, doing some pranayama, my mind slowly empting, cleaning itself, focused.