sense of an ending, thoroughly english, from it's characters to their sense of ill defined communication and habitats. i'm overwhelmed by the feeling of an extremely brilliantly constructed novel that climaxes in a revelation where the reader has to do all the work, there's more unsaid than written in this book so answers are not obvious yet it's a joy to read as it's so rich with philosophy and mundane complications.
friends at university tony and adrian's trajectories are about to intersect by variable time and unreliable memory as we the reader feel complicit in one mans discovery of his past and the death of another. but facts are slippery, events never what they appear to be, and julian barnes subtle little novel tackles grand issues in a elegant and refined way. a really worthwhile little novel if your inclined to be led astray for a couple of days.     

black star by bowie

inferno before dawn, i'm up very early laying awake under my ceiling fan covered in sweat and residual erotic dreams. i text my friend, a man i met by accident in a central coast coffee shop. he introduced himself and latched on to me. i liked him a little, he was a londoner, jewish guy who seemed to want to take me under his wing and guide me into his flock. 
he was bewildered by my being. my hair, tee shirts, surfing lifestyle, attitude to the world, knowledge and yet like all those i come across a little intimidated. therefore during the course of the friendship he always inflated his sense of self, called himself a spiritual leader and told me all the things he could do for me, people he knew and i bit my lip and listened quietly. i listened and we had a few laughs, i incorporated him into my morning routine, he very kindly drove me to the beach each morning and sometimes let me have a surf, but as his need to control increased would sabotage my time in the ocean. i paid it no heed. he said he was a great spiritual leader, not that i ever figured him to be spiritual at all, but he kept introducing himself as one, couldn't he see the irony?
i could but i weighed up his company, his offering to buy me the occasional breakfast and his willingness to help me enter his fold, the community with his abrasive manner and ego. 
one day after he harassed me for not being a great part of the community  i said to him, 'fuck the community, i don't want to be in a community of anything. i hate the whole idea of communities especially this one. those eastern suburbs fuckwits, all gold and bmws, all glam and materialism. i never met a more selfish fucking judgemental community in my life, they covert everything from thy neighbours wife to thy neighbours job.'
so i got the cold shoulder from the spiritual leader who said i was not very traditional. it's true, i am not interested in any tradition other than perhaps a magickal one. i believe and know god and she loves me, i have faith in her... the rest is bullshit. i take my truth from elements of all spiritual truths and my critical thinking, my experience and knowledge and my ability to take off my head every now and then and write a new program for the time.
anyway the friendship continued but was rocky, everyday he had to get his digs in, repeating his conquests, the famous people he knew, the business deals he sealed, yet all i saw was desperation and futility, a tragic old man who was loosing his way. i kept my mouth quiet and offered some support, i baked him some healthy cakes, gave him some relationship advice, just tried to understand we were different animals and he was unlikely to change into an octopi. but the more time i spent with him the more he pushed me, wanting to enter that horrific competitive bollocks that guys get into, he wanted to show off his skills at being involved in various community groups, choirs, committees and social groups. occasionally he would boast about his electrical skills, how he was inundated with work and contracts and how he fixed various establishments lights circuit boards and cables and then demanded a free breakfast, and often got it. i'd seen this part of him and it was ugly, it was this expectation he relieve 'something' rather than just change the bulb to do a good deed. he justified everything with weakness. he told me of the people who disappointed him, friendships he ended, loves lost and i began to see he was indeed the problem not the other parties who were probably as frustrated as i. 
this morning he exploded as i made him wait up the street for a few mins, he screamed down the phone and said he was 'hot' in his air conditioned van, he implied he had texted me to say he was waiting, a text i never received and then he left me after raging his fury and anger. 
so after my surf when i had my coffee in my terrigal coffee shop he was there hiding away in the corner stuffing his face with bacon fat in secret (so his community wouldn't see him) the spluttering drivel emitted was something like, 'don't expect an apology from me' and then i told him i didn't because he was a selfish arrogant bully of a man who should be ashamed of his behaviour.' 
the waitress came over and asked me, 'your friend is behind you, don't you want to sit with him?'
'he's not my friend,' i said, 'he's a fucking disgrace.'
so the heat burns up friendships here in australia, it consumes everything and i realised i don't have many friends at all anymore. i have the birds in the garden, the fish in my pond, the  dragons and the handful of people i seem to have managed to keep in my circle. agent stone, val and olga and a girl in the shadows, so and i do some work in the garden, sweating away like some sort of slimy amphibious beast channeling my energies. later i fall asleep under a fan and i get a text from friend who invites me to a gig where he's playing 4 songs and i can't go due to work. i'm really saddened about it but i'm heart filled as i do have good friend's i may not see or hear from a lot of the time but they are there in that consistent way and for that i am ever grateful. 

the sun blazes through extremity, bushfire season in hell, the land already takes it's claim in life. australia is a dangerous place, it's wilderness will consume you, the creatures will bite, the women are lethal, the men drink to forget. 

yesterday was a furnace, today the mercury rises, tomorrow shows no mercy. 

 

  

weather shifts, moves in and out of gear, unpredictable. i watch a howling wind bending the trees in my garden to snapping point, i have to take a step backwards and brace myself as they threaten the fabric of mission control. the tall tiger grass swirls around in anger even the gentle palms are swaying violently, old fronds flap and fall. it's a sea storm, i think as i take the wheel and batten down the hatches, waiting it out.

next it's sunshine, blue skies appear, birds emerge with songs from a disney cartoon and even pan bathes in the sunlight like a tired old beast who's found peace at last. the atmosphere is truly schizophrenic. 

http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/australasia/head-boy-diagnosed-with-terminal-cancer-delivers-emotional-speech-at-prize-giving-ceremony-in-new-a6727526.html

antediluvian sun gods bless the earth with glory and magnificence, dancing upon the ocean surface in magical delights.
technology kneels before time and magic as i walk out into the waves, half blinded by love and half sighted with a love. slip away like sublimated sin, slip under the surface of wet skin, the shades of blue's traverse the depth, from shadows of hinted formation comes bursting densities and exploding perceptions. i astral travel my body is left behind, neptune takes me in his arms and whatever form my spirt takes feels safe and at peace. my body left a long time ago, when i was younger and somewhat innocent.
eons have passed and neptune returns me to an older body, this one i find myself in emerging from the depths, sensation floods itself, the water is everywhere, the soft elegant resistance as weakened muscle swims upwards, following primal instinct, towards light. only now i am aware of the need, like some heroin fix the need is in every atom, over riding all desires, cancelling out every requirement but the single lung bursting sensation for a fix of oxygen. propelled, kicking harder the surface breaking like an explosion of soft glass as my mouth sucks it down and my face bathed in light. 
i find the shallows, sand stretches through my toes, my body moves upright towards the shore, to the land. i fall down exhausted, slightly confused. i am returned, but older, in a body that feels different, older heavier and riddled with aching muscle. my hands feel my face and my hair is longer, beard had grown over my chin. 
the brightness sears, the harsh truth of enchantment tears into my flesh. 
i walk over to the surf club and throw myself in the shower where cold water washes away the sand and delirium. i look upon my reflection in a cracked mirror and see i have aged, i am older than i recall. many years have passed in my absence from land, there are many changes, transformations and the condition of the outside to inside is askew. i sit down on a bench watching the surfers, i look out at the horizon, light flickers here and there, a few birds swoop down, a dog splashes around the sea line and memory is leaking in a pool at my feet.
some sailors speak of being adrift in wrecked life rafts for years living upon raw fish and gulls they catch with their hands, some speak of islands that became a sort of home until they were discovered by passing ships. but me, i was taken by neptune himself and lived in his realm, swam with the dolphins and octopi, the sea horse and shark. i had adventures and lifetimes within lifetimes, married a mermaid, made love and went to war. i was happy as prince amongst the oceanic cities. but then came the war against progress, as man took our friends from the oceans, killed out families for food, dumped toxins in our sustainer, ravaged and raped our home. the tide ebbs and flows but man is a fool that is cruel and has a million ways to inflict its will. 
i watched my cities fall. every retreat took us further away from truth, every attack was weakened by the enemy's ignorance. and then i made a deal with neptune, it was hard to have him agree, our weapons were useless and tactics to righteous.
the homeopathic cure, fight like with like. fight mankind with a kind man. i have returned. to walk among you. take me to your cities, take me to your populations, politicians, teachers, skools, universities and medias, for all kind men come to mankind with a message that repeats itself over and over, demonstrated by anti science. i am the miracle, and magick is my message. 

i'm almost finished the very brilliant illuminating and enjoyable book called 'the magical universe of william burroughs' which i've devoured with a lot of pleasure. 
if you feel inclined to hack yourself, and then make several excursions into hacking  this reality thang, this is a great primer and a good place to start. of course the concepts and ideas are much more sophisticated these days, but in these pages one is presented with an organic version of what most magickians would know and use.

http://www.amazon.com/The-Magical-Universe-William-Burroughs/dp/1906958645

click on the link buy a copy and read it

a fleeting windy rain swept visit by my brother who stays one night and leaves the following morning was pleasant despite the awful weather and our exhaustion. he unloaded a book written by my cousin about divorce, and gifts from my folks and i loaded him up with some books and balms to return. 
it's been an extreme week, demanding, draining and difficult. i really feel stressed out, somewhat exploited by the people i work with who seem to do nothing and leave it to me.
i'm working many extra hours which i am taxed heavily, i have no choice but that's the way it is in this crazy country as we drift towards a socialist system. there is no incentive other than my own drive. 
sunday morning i read brendon o neils column in the australian, fantastic journalism / opinion piece by a true intellectual. a brave man indeed, especially as he is a marxist by self definition. he postulates the intolerance of the left, the division they create, the hypocrisy and double standards based upon ideology that squashes free speech and humilities and bullies it's opponents without intellectual debate or reason. with me he's preaching to the converted, i know this. the left wing in australia are the most ridiculous nut jobs i've ever come across, happy to fall into the trap of the banking and united nations while decrying the people who want some sovereignty. anyway it's to late now we have malcolm running to his masters, the guys is a fucking pawn and should be hanged for treason, selling us out to the IMF and UN both rackets for one world agenda.

finally on sunday morning the day stops, daze of rest. i find myself with time to contemplate the previous few days, it's been a blur. long hours, loads of demands, telephones ringing through the night, hours of negotiations and strategy. i'm exhausted from working but that's what i do for a crust so i can't complain. 
anyway plans for today, get to the city, meet val in newtown for hash cookie antics. 
pan is back to normal, healthy, happy and mostly dreaming his days away in the sun. it's a dogs life.

dawn finds me heading north, my module cuts through areas of dense fog, the highway empty my mind fluctuating on sleeping or surfing. it's been a long night, the long night of nights and i'm feeling the weight of everything. at the last moment i decide to head to the ocean where i throw myself in and catch a few beauties. all stress washes away, all tiredness and wear and tear heals, oh great oceanic energy, i submit to you.
i read the papers, i can clearly see where we head, the road determined by the club of rome and the technocrats, the great unveiling as populations are mesmerised by kgb mind control techniques. in the cold war russia poured it's billions on mind control of large populations, now the united nations have that knowledge and use it considerably. i eat some food, drink some coffee and read between the lines. information requires pattern recognition, i know the pattern because i know the end game. i know how to see therefore i know what to look for. beware the united nations, beware the left wings moral superiority, beware the geo political game of thrones, for ultimately there will only be one left.
i relax and watch the waves, thinking about sleeping for the rest of the day when my phone rings. i'm requested to write an urgent report, i have no choice in the matter and they want it now. there goes my sleep. 
on the way home i get pulled over by the police, random breath test, i joke with the policeman when he ask's how i am, 'drunk officer those tequilas i had for breakfast are far to strong.'
he's got a sense of humour and laughs.
i get home, shower, climb into bed and ten minuets later there's a knock at my door. it's the local jehovah witnesses, turns out i know one of their sisters so in the spirit of charity we have a chat about faith and love. my phone rings so i say goodbye and close the door, it's my brother. he has arrived in sydney. we chat and then there's another bang on my door. it's my neighbour telling me he thinks someone has run over my dog.
i take it in my stride, always good in emergencies i deal with the shaken driver, i find pan hiding around the back, blood everywhere, he's limping and looking really worried. i pick him up and put him in the car and drive to the vet. the journey is strange, i'm in tears and thinking how awful it would be to loose pan, he's been with me 14 years, longer than any girl friend and fuck it, he's saved my life once, he's indirectly even got me laid as girls find him irresistible and after showering affection on him inevitably turn to me. that hound and i are best mates, everyone knows it. i stroke his head and reassure him, 'you're going to be fine old friend, everything will be fine.' 
but i don't know that for sure and i'm already thinking the worst. the vet looks at him, asks me a few questions and we do the x rays, nothing broken, pan seems chirpy, he's pacing around, sniffing the room, and the damaged leg seems to be taking his weight and holding up just fine. 
the vet shoots him up with painkillers and tells me to return in a week, he's prescribed a series of antibiotics and says pan is remarkable for his age which in human years is about somewhere in the early 80's.
i return home noticing a chip and crack in my windscreen as i'm driving. the cost of the day sky rocketing through the cieling. i stop at the shop and buy a six pack of beer for my neighbour and a box of chocolates for the lady who run pan over. i drop them off, grind up pans pill and feed him. i fall asleep on my sofa, the day marches onwards without me, thank god.

we travel, sometimes i just stay still and things travel around me. everything is doing something today, i'm still. my brother arrives in sydney for three weeks work, it's good to hear him and i hope we can spend some time talking but he is a busy body, and he has loads of demands on his time. i'm really hoping we can synch our time. it's tricky as my hours are weird, anti social and vastly difficult for people close to me to work around. 
i may take a sick day here or there. i feel sick of work anyway, i hate the dept and all the fools in it, the managers and their complete lack of management skills and ability to be constructive. i really want to break away and do something different.
what though?

awaken to the sound of some sort of power tool crashing it's way into my dreams, the pounding throb of mental torment as my private realms are shattered and my new neighbours invade by stealth. it's not like i'm north korea, the noise is unbearable. 
a plumber turns up to fix the toilet leak, he's there 10 mins and charges me $200, it's early morning robbery, not even daylight, i haven't even had a coffee yet.
i organise the morning, sort through the day. i need to find a justice of the peace and fill out some statutory declarations. this type of stuff is tricky for me, i hate forms, paperwork, and running around jumping through hoops. i hate having to confirm my identity, to justify my existence and good intent, as if a jp's signature really means anything.
i miss out on a surf this morning, it makes me feel very sad. 

my body emits a strong odour these days, some sort of pheromone released with spring, it permutes everything. i notice it influencing the universe as animal attraction. it's not pleasant or sweet like a perfume, it's more narcotic, repulsive to some, yet alluring to others. i do my best to avoid to much attention, i keep everything under my hat. i swim with the fishes, i soar with the birds, i buzz with the bees and sleep with the dogs, i purr like a cat, i pace like a tiger, i flow like the rivers, rise and fall with the tides, i glide through air and either like a multi dimensional dragon, i burn like flame and i disintegrate into dust only to be reborn in someones eyes.

it was a peek, a time glimpse into the un-forbidden zone. i couldn't help but follow my curious nature, i couldn't help but look. call it weakness if you may, it's to late to matter, i looked, it's to late. the images and words are in my neural networks, i distorted them obviously because i have an artistic romantic vision, so they are mine now, a vision builds of red aura angels demoness, terrible beauty and beautifully terrible, the vortex of a man's destruction and salvation, passion that burns furnace like, mind sharper than razor blades, true scientific enquiry always leads to the occult world. true occult enquiry always leads to science. the two are strands entwined. they only work together, like a key in its lock, the doors of perception are open.

peering into your zone 

blazing sunrise, dawn destroyed by sharp light in the shape of blades, slicing through sky. penetration, iggy sings like a sexy cat blasting through my speakers as i drive into the brightest part of the sky. terrible beach has perfect surf this morning, no one about save for the other dawn travellers. 
iggy yelps and makes animal sounds, a guitar screeches like a sexed up panther and the backing vocals go all tribal.
i'm running down pristine sand, into pristine surf, white wash laps at my feet as i acknowledge the guardians of my element.
breath in breath out, heart beat like a big old drum, i'm alive iggy echoes, and i'm diving in, hand fin strapped to my wrist.
the waves propel me, lift and twirl me like an atom in a spin dryer, particle accelerating my way through the void, fuck you world, fuck isis, fuck politics, fuck the sport bastards, fuck the banks, fuck the religious nutters, fuck the politics, fuck the whole damn lot of it, i'm almost free, i'm a wild animal, a fucking, eating, loving, beast running on instinct and intuition, i'm a man like iggy pop penetrating, penetration, i come alive!

the surf down at terrible beach, it's flat as pancakes but i splash around at the crack of dawn. water bracing, yet after a few seconds it becomes real soothing and easy on my soul, neptune's embrace, feel those vibes. 
down in the town of terrible, the streets start filling up, early morning, bright and beautiful. the caffeine addicted, the power walkers, the bold and beautiful all swarming behaviour becomes predictable if you follow the patterns. i get my coffee, read the  papers, the australian is my paper of choice and in the last few months it has taken a turn for the worse, it's editorials are shifting, although the letters are still excellent. the media is conglomerating, soon it will become a high pitched squeal. i wander home for chores. pan lays in the sun, head rises up for acknowledgement. man and his dog sit down, i break open a packet of dog biscuits and we discuss a plan of action chewing on some horrid meaty bite. pan wants to laze around but i have responsibilities. mission control needs a clean up, laundry needs laundering and i throw myself into these mundane tasks before procrastination kicks in. 

the new world religion seems to be science, this has been going on since the club of rome days where rocking fellows and his pals decided to begin their plans for global government and the rise of technocracy was born. its a fucking clever idea, i take my hats of to the inventors as much as i oppose them. almost seventy years later, manifestations shift and change, social conditioning subtle brainwashing and clever linguistics convince a global population to embrace it. of course it's not called technocracy anymore, it has some warm fuzzy name and those that oppose it are burnt at the stake. prime ministers are removed if they do not tow the line, replaced by technocrats dressed up as excellent orators, pawns of the banks and power brokers to the elite. it dosn't matter how you approach it, from the left, the right, the perceptions are warped through lies and misinformation, up becomes down, left becomes right, in becomes out and only the brainwashed dealers push their product with out debate upon the rest of us. behold the energy grid is coming, behold the agenda 21 becomes 31. behold the rise of the technocrats and their power play and lament the end of individuality. 
for those that follow science, global warming and all the facts, remember, it's all a theory, fudged numbers (climate gate) crunched into a computer, even the australian weather bureau was under investigation until the change in leadership. these numbers are put into computer models and predictions are made based on them, yet the numbers are incorrect the information sexed up and the scientists who speak out are burnt at the stake, david bellamy, ian plimer burnt out by the group thinking robots or the apocalypse.
the middle classes high on hockey stick economics and al gores business mesmerism advocate the use of wind farms unaware who profits from wind farms, a ridiculous way to create energy and far from green.
of course no one wants to argue the environment, it's uncool and everyone wants a healthy eco system, but it's not about eco systems, it's about power. power that we have given to unelected bureaucrats who are milking us dry, taxing us, controlling us and implementing the biggest conspiracy ever through science and we are bending over unquestionably because we all all dumb sheep.
if this is the road we have to travel i rather people be upfront about it and know exactly what they are advocating, rather than people who take that moral high ground. the moral high ground is lost because there was never room to discuss it. technocracy has arrived, it's coming for you, it's going to ram itself into your face and make you swallow while you pay for the privilege and don't say i didn't warn ya. the smoke and mirrors keep your eye far away from what's really going down. the club of rome must be laughing all the way to the bank.

tearing up scraps of paper, it looked pointless and wasteful from where i watched. sven was showing me how tiny he could get each piece, as he reduced them down to tiny scraps, almost like confetti. 
'yeah okay, i get it sven, i don't see the point in making a mess.'
'it's part of my performance, just watch.'
every piece was placed into a top hat which stood upside down upon his work bench, sven dressed in a black tuxedo and white shirt looked the perfect part, despicably cool, every gesture he made exaggerated for performance.
the room was an empty school hall where rows of chairs stood vacant except for one at the front, mine. a single spot light illuminated the area sven worked and in it's small circumference sven tore up my list of words.
'now, i know it's tedious but i need you to watch and be certain i am authentic in my actions, that this list is being torn up into tiny bits and placed into my hat. you need to verify this mission.'
'yeah i verified it okay, it's the real deal, sven can tear up a list of words.'
'not just tear but randomly place the pieces into a hat.'
'yes, random, right.'
i sat back yawning continuing being the lonely observer in the auditorium for another thirty minuets until sven finally finished and dropped the last piece into the hat. he put his wand upon the brim and began chanting. i perked up, it sounded russian or something eastern. he tapped the brim of the hat three times and then dramatically rolled up his sleeve making a show of it for my benefit. with one arm exposed he reached into the hat.
he reached further until his whole arm was swallowed by the hat.
'you must have a hole in your hat sven,' i shouted out. 
'there is no hole, come have a look,' he said as he took his hand out slowly.
from the stage i looked out into the void, just a room of darkness and a handful of chairs lit in penumbra. 
we were two lonely figures on a stage. 
i suddenly felt very pathetic, it was not as though i had places to be and other people to meet.
'what is this shit sven?'
'it's a trick i've been working on,' he took a step back and gestured to me, 'stick your hand inside and pull out one single piece of paper.'
i moved towards the hat and reached in, my fingers felt the confetti and wiggled around.
'come on, we don't have all night, pull it out and hand it to me.'
my fingers found a scrap and i placed it upon svens gloved hand. 
'what does it say?'
'it says, 'tearing'.'
'okay another piece.'
i pull out another and it's 'up.'
'next.'
'scraps.'
a smile crosses svens face like a trump card and i resign myself to the impossible.
'wanna continue?'
'i get it sven. amazing.'
'the amazing sven.'
the light goes out and all is dark.