in the frenzy of my multiple realities, as i combat adversary's, situations become more bizarre and extreme, my plates still spin, my juggling act in full swing, any moment now one of those fine china things are going to fall right on top of my head and set stars in orbit around my noggin. 
i leap from here to there, all my fruits are in the air, apples and pears, blueberries and zap fruit. mmm mangoes and coconuts, assuming a coconut can be described as a nut amongst fruit.
well here i am in the grip of some inevitable medieval sickness, a renegade virus has struck me a blow, run down like a penguin in a straight-jacket on the santa barbara freeway. that hacking cough, the sickly fluids, will they ever stop, the awful soreness at the back of my throat, constricted and restricted, intense pressure and unbearable load. the blurred vision, the throb of cranial black hole as gravity collapses inside my skull. i have to work, my people are also struck down, we are all equal here, everyone is sick and i'm the last man standing. 

strange how change occurs yet the soundtrack seems to evolve along, memories shaped by sound, colours, landscapes, faces and feelings, atmosphere, energy.

many people have soundtracks to their lives, many people have certain songs defined by pivotal points, or vis' versa, it's had to say what comes first, was the song a spell that seems to cast it's magic upon your experience or your experience just saturated with the song?

'it dosn't matter' is the answer, the chicken and the egg are simultaneous co-inhabitors of the same universe, the experience they have is not independent neither is it dependant, separation is illusion.

i have a soundtrack to my life, it started with david bowie, lou reed in the seventies and towards the end the influence of london during the punk and post punk years but bands came and went, broke up, made unredeemable mistakes although i forgave bowie but only one band stuck to the mantra. the invisible contract, the manifesto between fan and band.

i saw them play with an orchestra somewhere down the time line, it was at the opera house and it was a pivotal moment, i was immersed in the atmospherics, the music, the joy of seeing my fave band actually reach some sort of recognition and acclaim from others. the church were never just a band, they were my band, not in an arrogant possessive way, but they were the band that always delivered to my high expectation, not just the obligatory album a year, they delivered quantity as well as quality and as our paths converged it became obvious that although a small and independent band, their vision was about to burst forth en mass.

the orchestrated church defines a moment in their history, but it's not history that concerns me, it's the fact within that moment the seeds for the future were sown.

usually when i get a church cd i wait till dusk, light some candles, smoke a spliff and listen to it uninterrupted, it's a special thing for me. i like to feel my body react to the music, the words set my neural net sparking and synapses get stimulated. there's that wonder and amazement, surprise and awe, moments where new landscapes unveil themselves in my synesthesia, explosion of colours and patterns, images and fragments, places faces, information hit, my very own dmt hit. 
when i received the elegantly packaged double cd set i intended to play it under my usual conditions but i've been thwarted by my life as a citizen, it's all death and taxes in the zombie apocalypse of the human word. 
so there i am 5am in the morning about to drive down the highway, i impulsively do something against my own code, i take the psychedelic symphony cd and give it a first listen in the imperfect environment of my car stereo. 
i do remember most of the concert vividly but also as an overall energy, it was warm, there was a lot of love in the house, surprise to, and finally mainstream australia began to see the greatness of the music. 
possibly the biggest credit e to george ellis whom never over reaches his orchestration into the music of the church, it's very unusual for a rock band to successfully integrate with an orchestra and play their whole back catalogue without messing with the balance. the orchestration shows something revealing, respect. obviously george has complete respect for the church's music and it shows.
my drive down was glorious, as 'metropolis' kicks of to the first and final words, there will never be another one like you,' you taste the magic in the atmosphere, you know something beautiful is about to happen. 
and it does, the sun rises, night skies gradually fade away to a deep rich morning blue, venus sends it's final visible rays, the water passes by me glistening with promise, a few fishing boats cut a fine line across the surface, no traffic, no limit.
here are the songs, subtle arrangements, elegant craftsmanship, spectral finesse and flourishes, harmony and symphony, music for the spheres, the hairs on my arm are standing on end, everything seems in it's place, steve's singing is incredible, the guitars, the rhythm machine that is tim powles, layers and layers of sound and word, the familiar sounds fresh and exciting, the subtle shifts and arrangements of parts and lyrics, the delivery all executed with the kind of professional ease only created from love. 
on my return journey i played cd 2, and it just delivers the goods even more, 'happy hunting ground' took me back to london where i saw the church come onstage to that song in a small club and then play a blistering set. here the orchestra transforms it into something else, it's always been a beautiful song but now it shines. 
i'd completely blocked 'ripple' have no memory of it being played live but here it is soaringly spectacular, 'two places' sounding as emotional as ever, those harmonies are perfect and when i get to 'the dis illusionist' you know we are in the realms of the russian writers here, it's dostoyevsky or gogal, steve's method singing his way through a car crash of a character, we have to look, listen. the new songs from 'untitled' sound so much better live, 'anchorage' and 'angel street' evoke a heavy sadness and distance, a detachment and loss.
'tantalised' steals the show, steve's vocals belting out the words, the guitars scorch the earth and set the skies alight and the drums pushing it forwards into your bones. 
yeah play this cd when i die, play it to celebrate my strange and wonderful life as captain mission, everyone get stoned and play it loud. 
            

lot of plates in the air, spinning around me, somethings gotta crash i can't keep up with it all, but they just keep turning, wobbling and rotating like planets in space. 
one day when i'm free from constraints, somewhere down the time line i'll write about my work in great detail, the world i hardly ever mention, some say it's the real world, i dunno, i function in it but it don't seem real to me, just human dramas, real to the players i know but to me who navigates around their complex issues and personalities i become less and less interested in humanity's dramas, a strange species endlessly repeating their mistakes and folly. 
the church dvd and double cd pack arrived this morning, i'm waiting for dusk then i'll light some candles, smoke and listen.
  

okay scorpio's a coming, 
influencing my zodiac
rocks float through the void
just to give me a smack
fates and fortune
rolls on the dice
just karma circumstance
say the words of advice

i charged up my lunar powered zap gun, it's luminous casing glowed ambient purple in the starlight, pulsing in my hand like an old friend. yeah you always had my back, it's good to have you in my hands again, old friend.
i stepped out onto the crisp sand, some darkness seemed to envelope around me, the street light flickered and popped out as a dark cloud passed before the moon. 
waves crashed every few seconds and i could hear my heart beat over the top as i kept stepping forward.
terrible beach at midnight, such a strange place to rendezvous, down on the sealine, outta sight from everything. 
the surf crashed bringing me into hypersensitivity, the hairs on my arms stood on end picking up electrical signals, i focused my attention scanning at 90 degrees, approaching at an angle, moving in on some unidentified invisible object. 
i saw some movement, down on the sand, crabs, lots of them scuttling along, some going in and others out, it puzzled me at first, the opposing directions but nature is a strange wondrous beast with inventive energies and diverse strategies i appreciate and respect. i moved forwards but not before checking the skies. the light was shifting again, my umbraic vision had improved and i could see the moon begin to reveal itself again. and in perfect time there she stood, in her strange velvety costume, intricate embroidery  decorated her gown, she held up her hands and smiled, 'you won't be needing that mission.'
i conceded, 'indeed, scorpius does move in strange ways, it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.'
i offered a hand, and she gave me her cheek.
we wandered together, her voice soft and gracious as her movements, here eyes offered a kind madness, not human, more animal, more dead than alive.
i wanted to bring her to life, but it would be pointless, scorpius was beyond life and death.
we walked and talked, small talk, she seemed to know a lot about me, more than i did so i played it safe, said little, listened and contemplated her nature.
as we walked she seemed to change, her features shifted, her hair colour went from darkest black to red, through to blonde and black again, her eyes however remained the same. 
we stopped walking, the moon bathed us in it's light and i knew we were at the destination.
'captain mission, it has been lovely walking with you, i have enjoyed your contemplations but i summoned you here for a reason.'
i smiled, 'you sent me a text message, that's hardly a summoning, how did you know i would turn up?'
'you have a curious mind, it was inevitable you would.'
'inevitable,' i pondered the implications momentarily, 'well it has certainly been a pleasure, but tell me what you want from me, i'll listen and make a decision based on how i feel about your request.'
'you can't decide, it's just inevitability. however i want to share my desire with you, my wish. i want you to defeat the hydra.'
whatever romance was in the atmosphere was replaced by hyper-vigilence, my face must have given my concern away.
'don't worry mission, you are almost there. just be aware the next few parts of the process are going to be tricky, defeat it mission, that's your mission.'
she started walking into the ocean, the water wrapping itself around her feet,'should you choose to accept it.'
if it was a summers night i would have waded in after her but it was cold, i noticed i was freezing, shivering, even my teeth were starting to chatter. i had turned up in my old church t shirt and my hemp pants, barefoot. my skin was ice. i did watch her disappear, uncertain weather night swallowed her up first or the sea.
trudging back following my own footprints (there were no traces of hers) i found my car where i left it, stuck the zap gun in the glove box, checked my phone, drove home listening to some ambient music. 
i boiled a saucepan of water for a hot drink and had a hot shower, came down, made my drink and fell asleep on the sofa without even having a sip.


  
         

tony robot, i expect the labour party to be wasteful, beurocratic inefficient and aligned with socialist values. i expect the green party to be in league with the united nations and their agendas, but from the liberals after the travesty of the last few years i expected you would keep your word. i know the debt is awful and we have to deal with it, i know what debt is, it was extremely irresponsible for the govt. of the day to fritter the economy away. i liked the ideas but we all know labour can't implement anything efficiently, it's filled with ineffective people. 
all through the election your mantra was repeated over and over because you are a political robot and you know how to hypnotise a nation with a mantra or two. you didn't really use the mantras imaginatively,
'no surpises' 
'no taxes' 
'no broken promises'
every chance you got in front of a camera, the mantras sinking and penetrating into the australian public because they bloody voted for you. 
and what have you just done tony robot?
surprised us! with your new taxes. broke your promise.
i didn't vote for you but i expected you would keep your word after you punished gillard day in day out, i expected more. did you not listen to your own words.
the financial deficit is a problem, but the bigger problem is the trust deficit, that's a spiritual equation, we will pay in our taxes like we always do but you will pay as well, the eternal currency.
that's the way it rolls tony robot, sorry, but you sold every single person who lives in australia out!
and if billy bob shorten has learnt anything, he won't lie to the public.
the governments of planet earth are fucked up, it's seriously wrong, somethings gotta give.
'don't, lie, cheat or steal, the government hate competition' i have that sticker on my fridge but it should be everywhere, all over australia.    

there is little these days that pulls me away from libetaria, the glamour of sydney no longer allures me, the friends i have are far and few between and if it wasn't for the pull of a few bookshops i wouldn't really bother. oh yeah, then there's steve kilbey and the church, one of the few musicians that nourish my spirit, feed my mind and keep me going. so saturday afternoon i awoke in the late afternoon and realised i should haul my body into sydney to see steve playing a gig with one of my other musical heroes mr. positive vibrations, robyn hitchcock, yeah two great legends on stage together.
i'd managed to avoid knowing what the evening would bring, i wanted the whole experience to be new and surprising. 
i move my body through it's rituals and notice a great lethargy, my bones ache from winters penetration, my head throbs from some complex work issue, i literally wake up exhausted. for the first time ever i don't feel the enthusiasm i have always felt before a night out seeing music, just a weariness and finality, as though i'm finished and should just lay down and close my eyes.
it takes immense effort to shake away this feeling, i jump in the shower and blast myself with hot scalding water, i scrum my teeth with islamic toothpaste (the best toothpaste on earth) i take my proton pill and drink some juice. 
on the train i fall back into a heavy sleep, dreaming of faces, places and watch time loops play out behind my eye. i think my own snoring wakes me up.
the carriage is packed, every few seconds someone wants to swap or change seats, forcing me to shuffle, a child screams and shrieks, girls talk far to loudly disclosing vast details about their sex lives to anyone tuning in, two young backpackers speak in an unfamiliar european language, swiss perhaps with its hybrid german, italian, french and romanish, they smile at me, picking up my curiosity but keeping it under their hats, nice smile i think as i doze of again.
when my eyes open i am travelling deep into the city, through the inner west heading to newtown and onto central station, heading closer to my destination. 
outside on the surface the darkness has arrived, the city heaves and throbs under darkening skies as i wander down crowded streets, stopping into 'galaxy' to make an enquiry and into 'kinokuniya' to buy a warren ellis's 'gun machine' i have an hour to kill so i peruse the massive japanese bookshop, last of it's kind, eyes scanning the endless rows.
at the metro i briefly see steve, he looks busy but stops to give me a hug, i see kate and we head inside like excited children, take our seats right down the front.
two men walk on stage, they introduce themselves, brendon gallagher i know from jimmy little, the other guy i don't know at all. 
he potters about the stage holding a microphone and then starts singing, wow, what an incredible voice, this guy can not only sing, he's using his voice as an instrument, it's sweet and clear in pitch and resonance, he paces around in his shabby suit muttering to the audience like an angry younger version of a rolf harris that took lsd and magic mushrooms, a sort of cooler volatile eccentric rolf who never quite made the fame and fortune of analogue rolf but has the most unique vocal range i've heard in many years. he sings a song called 'quasimodo's dream' and thus is revealed as a reel, mr. dave mason.
then steve wanders on stage, casually strides through his set and plays us a new church song which sounds amazing and delivers the goods in a selection of old favourites ranging from t-rex covers to 'almost with you' he plays one of my fave steve kilbey songs, 'keeper' and it's perfect, voice carries itself in that languid wave as he engages with the audience in his usual carefree elegant style and making us laugh with his precise wit and banter, yes i would be happy to just see steve do a stand up routine, he's brilliant at making an onstage catastrophe into something self depreciating and hilarious. one of his first comments to the audience was about being in the room backstage with robyn and dave, two of the most eccentric people making steve feel quite normal. one can only imagine.
when robyn hitchcock comes on and starts playing we are in a different universe, insects and ocelots, robyn's obsessions are uniquely english, even when he sings about america it's through the eyes of an english man, the last of our true psychedelic gentlemen, offering us an intimate spellbinding slice of his catalogue, some rambles that sound like dylan thomas on lsd, i guess there's a little bit of syd barrett in everyone and robyn got a larger dose than most, what a marvellous privilege to see steve and robyn play some songs together, a syd cover 'gigolo aunt' and 'under the milky way' and finally a beautiful version of the velvets 'heroin.'
it's about 3am when i finally get home and i feel pretty good, music healed my blues, an evening of insects and stars.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7p6BXoJa9Aw

early morning rainbow at sunrise as i drive to terrible beach, it arches across the doom laden skies, heralding some sort of covenant the old sky god made with me, i nod in appreciation, as the black skies swallow me whole and my module moves around the coastal roads offering me a glimpse of a very dark ocean where the wave comes in pitch ominous significance, the bold architecture from some cosmic circumstances. i wave to neptune, he also holds a covenant with me but he's more laid back than sky god, he's more relaxed in his turquoise place, limited responsibility i guess. ebb and flow, ebb and flow, let yourself go, pulled by the lunar influence, the heavy lifting is done, so my neptune can fritter his day in playful frivolity with the fish and currents and an old body surfer from london who stares out at the vast landscape alone.
i wait for the rain but the sun eats the clouds and burns away the rainbow, the sleepy seaside town fills with people accompanied by their dogs, the empty car spaces fill up fast, the shops open, the aromatic blends of several free trade coffees fill the air, newspapers are read, children delivered to their educational facilities. a whole day passes me by in fast forwards time lapse, i'm not in this day at all, i'm outside it. i can't penetrate the hour, it's far from my reach, i can only watch it tick tock away from me.
out of luck, outta weed and out of time, i'm on the outside of something, can feel it in my bones, my blood, my cellular intelligence already knows, i'm the outsider. i always have been and always will be, don't get to close. 

lord krisna regarding karma yoga

“therefore, without being attached to the fruits of activities, one should act as a matter of duty, for by working without attachment one attains the supreme.”

bhagavad gita, cap 3 text 19

found this today, think it's something that resonates strongly with me although i'm not sure what the supreme is. 

one thing i'm beginning to find irritating is the bloody loyalty card system, since when do i need some sort of card to prove or validate my loyalty. i've always been loyal, it's in my dna, if people knew me they would know that yet the loyalty card system seems to bypass the whole process of knowing by bribing you with a free coffee or whatever!
the other thing i find irritating is the adverts designed at women. yeah i know this is transgressive but let's look at two adverts.
'i bought a jeep' and 'it's not a car.'
am i sopposed to be shocked or surprised, do i even care! women can do pretty much what they want, they are individuals as are men, but to degrade women like this insults me and if i were in anyway considered feminist i would be fighting to remove those adverts.
of course it's a fucking car! women are not stupid yet these adverts make them out to be dumber than a bucket of hammers.
where the minds of these car advertisers have gone i don't know but they should have considered the fact buying a jeep or driving some italian sporty car does not make a difference if your a man or a woman, it's a fucking car. 
another thing i'm irritated at is the way these politicians slash and burn everything except themselves, how about a pay cut in your expenses mr. pm. how about your corrupt politicians, both sides of the divide do some penance for ripping the tax payer off, go work in an old persons home for 10 years on a wage the rest of us have to deal with, no fucking perks in that job except the fact you may actually be doing someone some kindness.
kindness is the currency of the future, as the dollar collapses and the systems fails, it won't be your off shore bank account that bails you out. your four wheel jeep or italian sports car won't be worth a can of baked beans. 
okay that's my report for the day!

what the fuck is tony robot doing? slashing the pension and buying fighter planes instead, justify that white collar conservative?
fuck! no wonder politics bores me, it's filled with imagination deficit androids, bring on the fringe nut jobs, at least they have something new to say.
anyway it's a beautiful morning, i don't want to spoil it with local politics when the dawn spawns some magick.
yes the birds are singing odes to joys, the fish are jumping (i must remember to feed them) dog thinks he's a lamb skipping around my feet waiting for me to throw the frisbee, the water dragon basks in the morning light. me, i have chores, chopping wood carrying water, cleaning and polishing. fuck it, i've been procrastinating all week and now there's a spring in me step i might as well use it for something practical, or i could daydream my day away imagining what life would be like if i was prime minister, pensioners would get free weed that's for sure.
what the hell do we need fighter planes for? 
the enemies of the australian people are already here.

autumn day, bright blue skies with a nibbling cold upon the skin, that stillness permeates almost everything, some birds hidden away in the various camouflage make sounds, different strange little blasts, squeaks, high pitched wails, blurts, squeals, cooing, crowing, whistling, tweets, warbles, it's busy out there in the bushland as a cacophony of sound fills the air.
here i am in my moominland, wandering with invisible friends, peaceful creatures that move between the veil, dreaming in time, safe innocent adventures. 
ah dr. crack i wish you were here with me, listening to your favourite song, 'timothy leary's dead' we would plan a trip, explore some strange extreme environment, discuss the world of man, revel in some beauty or truth. i miss you old friend, you were fucked in the head but a beautiful spirit, magick. not a day goes by when i don't think of you, i always laugh at yer clowning, that beaten up old bmw held together with string and tape you would pick me up in it rain or shine, your carnivorous capers in the cities underground secret butchers, those waitresses you would flirt with, the strippers you would hang out with holding on to every word you uttered, man of mystery, we had our hedonistic nights out, and plenty of laughing to be had. 
and your evil twin brother, that fucking maniac who got me drunk with nicole kidman and tom cruise, my last ever drinking bout. good old ivan on the last train to bombay saved my skin that night, he's gone now, you two must be waiting for me on that last train, keep ordering up those spicy dishes, i'll have a sparkling mineral water.
remember when you came back from singapore, i dragged you to see thomas dolby and you fell off your chair when he played, 'evil twin brother.'
ah, it's just not the same without you old friend.
all my friends are invisible.