things to do today, write letter to....

Berlin
Germany

Martin

Beginnings, middles and ends.

It’s a paradox to think that such things exist, certainly in my own life the idea of sequence is as illusionary as the rest of reality, yeah it just seems like yesterday we were making music together, planning a small poppy field in our courtyard, catching the last rays of that sunlight before the terrible winter set in, me, i vividly recall 'waiting for my man' the happy acustic version, remember passing out in the medical supply shop falling flat on my face, being lifted up with spliff in hand, yet it also seems like another lifetime and then again maybe it was a few years in the future, ha, the fact is it don’t matter, time and space, thoughts and meanings, let’s just say here we are.

I started writing a blog a few months ago, I felt that it would be an interesting experiment, that I had lived long enough to have something people may want to learn from or laugh at.

I can’t say that my life has been less than extraordinary, I was always one to struggle between free will and destiny, now I realise they are the same thing.

I guess in terms of what happened to me, we need some kind of perspective so excuse me if I revert to some kind of chronological order, it’s not something I do often but I think it may be acceptable in this case.

 

So I found myself living in a beautiful house with a beautiful wife in a beautiful Sydney suburb, surrounded by a domestic cacoon of love and safety, life had become strange, I was responsible, I was a father, a home owner, I scored a proper job, I went from being a sort of extreme loner, an individual to a very normal one, I even inherited a set of friends, it was quite strange as it fulfilled a need in me, a false imprint that this is what we do. I mean we marry, have children, own things, get a job and old, die….yeah, I guess it was some sort of dna thing on top of all that middle class bullshit programming.

When the union failed under bizarre circumstances, I found myself alone again, no family, no home, no job, in fact I had four dollars to my name, I decided then, at that point in time that gary was dead. Captain Mission was born.

I lived in a strange building, it was an ex salvation army counselling HQ, I was lost Martin, a tragic ending or was it a beginning, I am still uncertain. Anyway one night I was starving, I pulled the four dollars from my big black berlin trench coat, and I went across the rd in pouring rain, I was saturated, that coat was not water proof. Anyway I floated towards the neon sign which advertised a Vietnamese restaurant in cinematic glory. I pulled out my four dollars and asked if I could buy anything with it. The old guy looked at me without pity and said I could buy some rice, boiled. The kindness of strangers is a rare thing on this particular planet, every one is scared, everyone lives in fear.

Rice after about a week of no food, was something that sounded wonderful, it was hot food Martin, in a plastic tub, all that heat trapped waiting to be released, and it had peas in it, I could see the little green spheres suspended in the white texture and that seductive heat, you know I have always loved heat. We made a transaction and I ran back home, I recall I was bare feet, I recall the headlights of cars in the rain, their reflection on the wet road, I recall searching for my front door key in the darkness.

I stood in the kitchen, it was pitch black, there was no electricity, no furniture, nothing really, just the drips falling from me onto the lino, I could hear my heart beating, the rain outside and my stomachs pure lust for food, I must have looked pathetic there in the corner. An empty soul in an empty house.

I peeled of the lid from the carton and a wave of steam emerged. Martin I know what this sounds like but when you have nothing, the simple smell of cooked food, even rice, is everything. The poet, William Blake wrote about the ‘world existing in a grain of sand’ well for me Martin the world existed in that tub. I was so happy to have food, I may even have shed tears. But like all things in my life, it came in paradox for I had no spoons, no forks, no chairs to even sit down, no plates, in fact I had nothing to eat my rice with, except as I searched empty drawer after empty drawer I did find one solitary plastic tea strainer, so I ate my rice with this, pushing the flexible sieve filled with rice upwards with my fingers towards my mouth. As I ate my meal, my life split in two forks, the one where I broke down and cried or the one I fortunately chose, the one where I just laughed and laughed and laughed, I had reached the absolute depths of despair, I was the killing joke man, at the door way of the chapel perilous, I laughed and laughed like a mad man going slowly mad.

Jump four years forwards – I am now re invented, its been a dark journey, but I have to move forwards, re- establishing my self, building some artificial constructs again, things on which to hang my identity, and I find myself in another domestic situation, this time I am living with a Canadian girl and her bi girlfriend, yeah it’s a kind of weird set up but I was happy, just having a home felt good, my ego was very slowly being reconstructed, although there was a small irritation that I was not really where I was supposed to be, I mean for any other guy it was a perfect set up, two girls who seemed to dig me, and one another. I mean it’s a bohemians dream right, but all I knew was something was not right in me, I still felt an incredible loss, a loss that I could not escape no matter what I did, sex, drugs,a new ego I mean it’s all here man, Sydney is the hedonistic epicentre, the more I indulged the more I hated it and one day I walked out. Again with nothing. But this time I had some sense of destiny orbiting my mind, I was resourceful, I had survived weird shit before, I followed the eternal dao, I surrendered and I knew I was on a spiritual journey, I knew this was what was missing from my life, the space I needed to fill, would never be sated by trivial pursuits, it was a void within my very soul, it was a disconnection with my destiny. So in order to re- establish that, I ended up hitching, only to be picked up by an old aboriginal man,and friend Francis Firebrace, he drove me to the end of the road and there I gazed at the pacific, the day was beautiful, it was blue sky, blue water, and the horizon stretched out before me within reach. I felt so content, I decided to just stay and live on the beach for a few days. I had resources, money and stuff, but I liked the freedom, the space to think, I did not really want walls around me anymore or people, I didn’t want the complexity that people bring.

I did not know it but it was nearly xmas, a few days away. I swam every day, wandered the beach, it was kind of strange, alien to Europe but something in me enjoyed this simplicity, I avoided people and kept myself to myself. It was Firebrace himself who found me, living on a rock, I was living more like an aboriginal than he was, ironic?. He saw me swimming one morning and waved me to him. I think he was concerned about me, I mean genuinely worried about me. He invited me to xmas lunch at his friends place where he was staying a certain personality known as Madame Lash.

Lash lived in a huge mansion, a house usually frequented by the extreme individuals of Sydney, rock stars, high class call girls, famous artists, politicians on their days off, the odd novelist and a handful of drifting lost souls. She started life as the owner of a b and d establishment in the 60’s, one of her clients and English lord bought her the house and now she runs various ventures, even had her own political party known as the extra dimensionalist party, which although nieve had a great look. Lash was also an artist, a very talented lady, who was smart to, despite her excessive drug use. Incredibly she was ‘tripping’ through xmas dinner with her husband, and her husbands family, who were a very proper English upper class lot, I felt like I was in the middle of a Peter Greenway movie, it was kind of surreal. Lash turned out to be very impressed with me and offered to put me up for a while, I think it was my knowledge of the Sydney b and d scene, as the Canadian girl was into the whole lifestyle, any way’s I ended up staying with them for a while, it was kinda like being back in Berlin again but I had this imperative to sort my self out and after a couple of weeks moved out into a small place of my own.

The next few years I devoted exploring myself, it was something that I needed to do, I felt battered from life and weak so I decided that I needed to challenging myself and grow. I wanted to build a new identity and new parts of my personality were emerging, parts which I wanted to explore while maintaining a reasonably responsible life. I knew that to be a man meant being responsible and I wanted to meet this challenge above all others, I learnt how to be independent, physically, emotionally, spiritually and sexually, an enforced period of celibacy. The other challenges where things like conquering my fear of moths, people, big surf, social situations, heights and the obvious one death.

Simultaneously I was offered a part in a movie which lead to other parts and I began to take on acting as a side line, scored a few appearances on tv, gradually I was cast on a number of shows, usually as a undercover cop or a drug dealer, ha.    I played out my ‘bad boy’ fantasies.

I met some interesting folks, the most memorable was William Hurt.

Anyway’s once I felt I could act, I took on new skills, a friend of mine taught me how to fire twirl, another took me up a huge cliff and we jumped over the edge into the ocean, then I became a cocktail waiter in a gay bar and emersed myself in gay culture, was even made an honorary lesbian. Then I then worked with homeless kids, drug addicts, gradually I took on more challenges and the people around me became slightly awed by my persona, I knew that adoration was not something I sought and perhaps it was time to disappear, so one new years I retreated. At midnight I privately invoked in ritual the sum total of all the fear I need to face in my lifetime, I wanted top meet that fear and face it in one fowl swoop.    

Martin, you have always known my interest in magick and mysticism, it is very much part of me, i dabbled with it when i was younger as a teenagers inquiring mind would and yet in my life the patterns and meanings have all been directed towards realising my responsibility to this path and the threads of a power that has grown and grown, not through group work or any form of subversive tradition, no this is the will I spoke of, the union of will and destiny, it is inescapable Martin. I have to wield this well, I have to respect the universes wishes, it’s intelligent and beautiful and it operates through me as much as I through it.

Well after invoking the sum of my fear I drifted back to my unassuming lifestyle, however things happened very fast. Within a week I had broken my arms, elbows, knees, legs, I had cracked my skull in a bike accident. Apparently I walked back from the accident to the dinner party I had left and knocked upon the door, my words to the surprised hosts where, ‘I am terribly sorry to disturb you but I think….’ At which point I passed out.

I awoke in hospital. People came every day, they smuggled me out so that I could go to the beach, they brought me hash cakes and wheeled me around nurses quarters, after 4 weeks I was released but I had no where to go, friends took me in and I had to undergo the humiliation of having my every need attended to, this can be useful because humility is a lesson that we all need to learn, it’s the first lesson after thinking you are independent.

After a week I grabbed my x rays and took them down to the beach each sunrise, I meditated and visualized the bones joining together and healing. The Drs couldn’t believe it, in three weeks they were cutting of the plaster and I was climbing trees.

I laughed, thinking that was my lesson but the lesson of humility is  the hardest lesson of all.

Let’s jump forwards a few months again, I am living with two girls again, something I always seem to do, (even now I live above two girls) it’s a very loving relationship, the girls are actresses and artists, we live in an big old house on a cliff-face, the wind howls through the house in evenings, the girls bake coconut macaroons and paint my nails and everything is perfect. Then I fall in love.

(A romantic tangent to the main narrative)

Yeah right outta the blue with a freaking amazing girl, she’s one of the smartest girls I ever met, a journalist, a mix off Hong Kong, New Zealand, English, American, anyway as usual there’s complications, she is about to assist her boyfriend get permanent residency by marring him, so it’s kind of a doomed relationship, however we did spend an amazing few weeks together till she had to leave. Marnee was gorgeous and I guess when your in love, letting go just becomes easy but it was kinda heartbreaking. Years later she arrived on my door step with a black eye, she stayed for a week and just as we were going to make our long term plans, the ex turns up and she goes with him. I let her go twice in one lifetime, twice is very difficult Martin, it’s like you are always waiting for the third return.

(Anyway back to the main narrative now)

The girls, (actresses were not impressed and I had to move out, crazy hey?)

While I was looking for a place to live, I realised that I needed a job so imagine when a crisis service I knew that looked after homeless adolescents asked if I was interested in doing part time work with them. I jumped outta my hammock and started to think what a new beginning would be like. I had now had several new beginnings in one life time.

 

I got the job, no need to be interviewed, I had built up a good reputation as a social worker in the city, people knew me and they knew my work was good.

My first day I was asked to go along to a big meeting, where a certain catholic priest was consulting with other agencies in the area, he had been given a large house and wanted to know what type of service was needed. Rumour had it that he was secretly setting up a sexual offenders treatment centre and I was instructed to tell him that this was not acceptable, as there was a young women’s refuge next door to his place where girls were recovering form sexual assault.

Anyways at the meeting, everyone behaved very polite, drinking tea and biscuits, the other local organisations all very restrained, the priest whom I knew off from his reputation was just the red faced priest archetype, surrounded by old ladies and cupcakes.

Anyways, just when the meeting was coming to a close, I interjected, ‘Look I don’t mean to be rude but I do want to be honest and I have to ask, is there going to be a Sex Offenders Unit opening because it would be a totally inappropriate location?’

The priest denied any such thing, then the meeting adjourned.

In the kitchen when I was alone with the priest I told him how I respected all the work he did, he did take the hardest kids, kids that no other service would deal with, so I was kind of always in awe of him and although there where a lot of rumours about him that were questionable, I never really paid them any mind.

I explained that I was speaking under my brief and the idea of a sex offenders unit was something I felt had a place within society blah blah blah. He asked me a few questions and I explained how I had a history of working with extreme client groups, under various organizations usually one of experimental projects. He took my name and said goodbye.

About a week later I was offered a job with him in the sex offenders centre, he was NOT opening. To cut a long story short and believe me it’s a long story, Martin, the whole thing went bad, he was a paedophile, he had a huge gang of ex cons that were ready to take a bullet for him, and he murdered a friend of mine who uncovered what he was doing. I and two of my colleagues escaped after several attempts upon our life.’ I ended up having to keep myself safe by sinking into the territory of paranoia, it was bizarre, tapped phones, being followed, my home being broken into, and the threats, then the death of my friend, the police dept. warned me away, he was a large fish, high up the food chain and I was dealing with powers I shouldn’t. This was my fear Martin. Remember old Burroughs saying, ‘Paranoids just know the facts.’ That was close to the bone, the world is corrupt, human nature is defiled by those that who should protect it, children the most vulnerable victims are preyed upon by a system so archaic and insidious it lays hidden beneath the surface.  

To cut a long story short, I had to retreat while I fought my battle with him in court. To survive I needed to get a new job, this time removalist labourer, and my first job, I recall clear as day, a cold winters morning, was moving a church from one end off Bondi High Street top the other, and following directions the first object I carried was the huge wooden cross that hung high up on the alter through the High St. On my back. The symbolism was so obvious. Gods humour perhaps.

Well again we jump ahead to the court case and lets just say I won, but he was not convicted or charged, let’s just say I won my battle but not the war. I received a death threat and it was directed at Jake.

Again I disappeared, this time for good.

This is all true, the truth of my life is much stranger than any fiction, it is a rich tapestry of experience which has revealed itself over the years, I moved through life from that moment onwards unafraid, I met my fear and had developed the power to manifest what ever I wanted, however this is far from a blessing, for all magickal acts are paradoxical unless the heart is pure and I have a long way to go on that one.

Since then I have travelled a fair amount, all through Europe, two months in Paris I have always loved that city. London I am an alien to, I visit only to see family, whom send their love by the way, I spent some time as guide in Africa, specifically Kenya, Tanzania and Zanzibar, where I lived for a long time with two French girls in a beach hut. Then I spent a year working in Canada, hanging out at the airport strip club near the airport in Toronto, and finally in 2001 I returned to Sydney, this time establishing a  sense of permanency, I work, I create art, I write and I make music. I still only know four chords but I manage to write good songs and sing em much better than when I was playing with you guys, it was all about belief, I never believed I could do it, now I know I can.

There’s so much top say, it’s been 19 years but I always thought about you, every time I pick up my guitar or hear Bowie.

I lost a lot of respect for him when he made those dumb ‘eighties’ albums, Let’s Dance, Moonlight, Never let me Down, I guess I knew he was capable of making something more meaningful, but then I heard ‘Outside’ and that is brilliant, I have a version he gave to the record label and they refused to release it, it was so threatening, it’s brilliant. ‘Heathen’ has its moments to but if you recall, I was gradually becoming interested in a band called, ‘The Church.’

I got to know them over the years, they are about the only band I listen to really the rest is just ‘electronic’ music which jake plays a lot of, but the church have the richness and depth and beauty that I strive for. Nice people to, they lived in Sweden for a while, now I see them almost once a month,they live in Bondi, I’ll send ya some tunes.

One day Martin you and I will get another chance, this time, I wanna sieze the moment and unleash some love. I came a long way and now I am full circle. What do ya think?

 

 

Other news and bits of information, I have a dog called Pan. Jakob is a lovely guy, 18 years old, really into his music, talented and filled with potential, we may have to get him on a bass or something. I am a now a bit of a recluse, I have a friend ed, who I call Leary after Tim, he lives in Thailand. I have a few people that know me, a girl called ‘agent stone’ whom is like my sister, friend and I just met my future wife although she don’t know it yet. Emilie. She’s an angel I conjured up about 35 years ago, she’s a French girl, but she’s kinda worldly to, super intelligent and i adore her, so who know’s, I been alone now for years and years, just me and my dog and you know what I am surprisingly content, but this would be the perfect freaky conclusion.

So there ya go a short trip through Capt. Missions last 20 years, I never really liked Australia (I’ll explain why later) until last week, I was in the surf and I was watching the clouds and the waves and I thought, ‘Ahh, this is it.’

It’s interesting how life works, I embrace the paradox, I love my life, I love my people and I love you, the fact you found something about yourself that gives you meaning, the fact that we were always connected by something, the fact that after 20 years I can phone a random studio in Berlin and talk to a sound engineer who just happens to be standing next to you. It’s magick man, it’s everywhere, the unifying field, the holy grail of science, information. Every time I catch a wave in the surf, I am a particle and a wave, the true nature of reality, filled with gratitude and love.

 
Martin

 The Universe Blessed me and I know it’s Blessed you.

 Captain Mission

 

PS MY BLOG ADDRESS IS

CAPTAINMISSION.BLOGSPOT.COM

other things to do, call the french girl
emilie got badly hurt at work yesterday, one of the autistic people attacked her, i felt quite awful, really terrible, partly responsible as i never told her about the other side of autistic behaviours, yeah it ain't all staring vacantly into space playing with a piece of string. anyways i hope that i'll catch up with her later today. she called me beautiful over the phone and my heart beat like a tom tom drum. sigh...

and final thing to do is make a comp. cd
which i did, however it was at the expense of being about an hour late to meet emilie, i did actually pick up some chyranthiums for her but i forgot to give her the cd.
After telling me she had fucked her friend in a drunken evening, she wanted to go kiting at manly as the wind was perfect, i watched from the shore, she looked like a giant insect, zipping her way across the water surface, weaving through the surfers, i watched slightly awe struck while my guts and my heart churned around.
Later we had a coffee and she expressed how empty she felt, we skirted around topics, the way men never acknowledge women after sex, the way women like to test mens boundries, she asked me when i had sex last and was surprised to hear that i had actually had sex on my birthday.
'Oh I never really think of you as a sexual person.'
'Yes well, sorry to disappoint you.'
'Your birthday was a few weeks ago, right?'
'Yeah.'
'And was it good sex?'
'It was messy.'
'Messy?'
'Yeah messy.'
'How come?'
'Birthday cake.'
'Oh.'
'Yeah I didn't eat any though, i am not a big lover of cake.'
'Oh. We should get trashed one night.'
'Sure but we ain't going to fuck.'

I head off back to Mission Control, i stick on the cd i made her, it's a good comp. i stop by at Agent Stones, she makes me a lovely salad, a tea and i feel like i am travelling back in time to the days we used to stay up all night, me smoking joints rambling stories to her, she listening and laughing like a beautiful elf queen, ahh, yeah agent stone's cool, she's the ony person i ever took to see the church with me, it's a scared thing. Later we looked at some pics on her computer, gregorian chants in the background, i was feeling safe, i always feel safe with agent stone, she's an agent extrodinare.

the super straight corporate guy rang me this morning to ask if i wanted to go to the blue mountains with him in his new $80000 bmw 4wd. i said i couldn't as i was thinking about going to bondi markets, unfortunately super straight corp guy decided he wanted to tag along, and seeing as though he volunteered to drive i thought what the hell, but it was a deal with the devil, cos being stuck all day with super straight corporate guy is like being enslaved, he's a total control freak, the worst form of capitalist and has a sense of humor on par with an axolotl. Super corp guy is rich in material wealth and bankrupt in personality, but my stupid sense of feeling sorrowful for him over-rode and i agreed.
we stop at the luxurious chocolate shop so i can buy some chocolate for my infamous 'hash coco cubes' which i am going to make this week, then we wander down amongst the mydrid of foreigners, scandinavian backpackers, english soccer people, some americans, the islanders and moaris, brazilian girls with tattooed legs, we walk into a cd shop and the sound of some dumb techno song does my head in, i can feel my aura leaking and my skull cracking, and scg wants to go shopping for an old Seal CD.
'Captain, What's the name of his album?'
'Err the canadian release is called, Clubbed to Death.'
I have to wait outside, it's loud and horrendous.
Later he gnaws upon some dead meat rolled up in kebab, it's making me feel sick, i nibble on a blueberry yoghurt thingy.

At the markets, i wander aimlessly, looking at everything, chatting to some folk, i buy a book on Francis of Assissi and a peaked cap/hat, but it's the girl selling the albert einstien t shirts that captures my heart momentarily.

we chat for a whle, i tell her how i like the designs, and how i am a fussy t shirt wearer, and how i always cut sleeves off, she says i look cool, at which point i melt and can't think of anything witty to say so in the awkward moment, i jump down the time line where we just walk off into the sunset together.

later i watch the surf, beach closed, it's big and pounding, no one out in that, no one except one lone surfer who struggles in the wash. we drive home listening to seal, i ask if we can listen to something else but scg says no. i ask if we can turn off the air con, but scg says no, i ask if i can roll down the window, but scg says no, i close my eyes and wonder what steve kilbey was doing today and if he was at the markets, only to find later from his blog he was.

dan air air stewardesses are worth writing about, they are or were, my first cult experience, dan air being a small american airline that went bust a while back, employed these amazing girls who looked awesome, they were edgy, smart girls except for the fact they were all on some kind of junk, fucked up on speed or smack, anyways where ever i went i always hung out with dan air girls, the most infamous from my youth was Gabrielle whom i met on a dance floor in berlin dancing to iggy pop singing, 'fall in love with me.'
Often people would assume i was a dealer so i was always getting approached by predominately exotic girls who would writhe their way towards me and lock on like some heat seeking missile, yeah it's true they would seek me out, in train stations, cafes, bars, discos, gigs, markets and on the street. But once they found out i was not carrying they would slither away, like reptilian people, i'd catch that last flicker in their eyes, the dying flames of hope. But Gabrielle she was like a exotic fish, swimming to me in a sea of sharks, she weaved her way through the crowds, our gazed fixed, she moved like a hot knife through butter until she stopped right in front of me, the song sequed into Prince, Kiss, a bassy extended mix and she just danced this gypsy dance whirling scarves around me, like i was in the centre of an atom, then she kissed me just when the purple one sung, 'extra terminal kiss.'
we hung out every night, she would dance for me and mutter words in her sexy austrian english accent, that i never really understood but it was kinda nice, i'd let her bite my ear and stuff.
but the smack scene man in west berlin, it's like the smack scene anywhere, but cooler looking people, classy addicts but all speaking the language of junk, i mean, all that despair for a gram of ecstasy was never a trade i wanted to make but gabrielle had sold her soul and occasionally i'd see the glint in her eye, the little girl was in there somewhere waiting to get out. by day she would be zooming around the skies in her uniform, feeding the packaged process food to the cattle and pointing to the exits, i would only ever see her at night, we never ate solids, we never saw the sun, she never slept. I miss her big beautiful green eyes.

idea for a film
a lonely professor falls in love with a beautiful girl who parachuted into his lab, he promises her that he will marry her as soon as he finishes his vital experiment. The experiment involves a matter transporter, that has two tube like units, one in which one is transported from the other to.
In his equations and tests everything runs perfectly but he has to use the machine on a human subject, so he puts himself in the transporter.
The lab is filled with monkeys and parrots and a huge fish tank, and in a corner is a large octopus that unknown to the professor has escaped as it was unsettled when the parachutest dropped in.
The Proffessor paces up and down, he is delieriously happy, all his life he has spent working with physics, never once contemplating the mysteries of the heart and the emotions love can bring.
The professor rings his fiancée, 'Sweetheart, everything will be fine, i am testing the equipment now, then we will get married.'
He activates the machine and the lab is filled with a purple light.
However the octopus has crawled into the other chamber and there is a terrible twist in the transporting molecules, resulting in the two beings becoming mixed up. In one chamber lies the Octoman, a human body with octopus properties, the mind of the octopus struggles with bipedal circumstance and restrictions, the strange sexual apparatus and sensory organs.
On the other hand Manpus is a eight tentacle mollusk with human intelligence and mind, desperately trapped in this ultra flexible body, a long way from his girl, he negotiates New York City to get downtown to her apartment, after many adventures he enters her apartment to find her relaxing in the bath, he slides in. Obviously shocked and horrified the girlfriend screams but written upon the skin is the pinkish glow and words 'i love you.' Manpus communicates the misfortunate events and the girl in a tender moment leads Manpus to her bedroom, where she experiences the ultimate sexual encounter. Suddenly she enslaves the Manpus as her pet sex toy, not an ignoble end the Manpus concedes.
Octoman however has to reach his loved one an octopus he met once in his youth drifting along the indian ocean, he escapes the lab and travels towards the Brooklyn bridge, where he jumps into the Hudson river, however he is disgusted by the filth and pollution and ends up washed up on the shore, where he is rescued by a TV executive who offers him his own show. Now propelled into fame and stardom, and all the trappings of hedonism, Octoman, succumbs to a 5000 grand a week coke habit and finds life meaningless and boring but filled with shallow pleasure. The unfulfilled longing within him leads him into a spiritual path and he founds his own religion, a sort of aqua mollusician human belief in divinity through surrender know as, the eight tentacle path.
Years down the time line, Manpus and his girl become devotees of the religion and meet Octoman, they reverse the experiment and revert back to normal life, the scientist sends the octopus back to the indian ocean and the last shot is him swimming into the sunset.

ahhh a decent sleep, at least 8 hours which is pretty long for me, considering i average 4 a night, it's a cold wind, biting the surface, the coffee is hot, Dick 3 sits down next to me and tells me a bad joke, i get a call from a surfing buddy, we meet in Babylon and go for a swim, waters warm, flat, minius surf, go for a hot drink, meet the millionare computer dot con guy who rambles meaningless things to me, he's making x amount of dollers, buying a new car, a new house, bigger faster, new affiliates in america, canada, hong kong, i gaze at the passing traffic, when he leaves we go to another secluded tea place i know where no one can interupt me from reading the international misinformation, i drink my special tea Triple E then part company from my surfing friend and head back to Pansy. It's good to be alive, it's good to be covered in salt, it's good to bathe in the ocean, it's good to see all the beauty this morning. I wonder if that cute french girl is thinking about me as she soars above the water, i wonder if she can give me another 50%.

yeah the surf in the afternoon came good, went to see a fantastic film called 'inside man'
Later i disolved into light, shimmering, etheric, reality looks like all sorts of things when you change your energy, the matrix kinda gets half the picture but the true nature of reality is not digital, it's information in pure form, formless, it manifests as whatever we want it to, proccessing it on the other hand is something quite difficult. I process using several techniques which i will explain at a later date.

morning's are not the same without professor leary around, i miss him heaps as i contemplate the elements and elephants, this morning i went for a surf, waves slim pickings, there was a flatness about, a certain low ebb and flow, there was a few hungry surfers hunting for waves but it all looked very flat, the water temp. was warm, nice and cozy. I was bobbing up and down in there, looking out to the horizon and i remembered an e mail i had sent to a lady called sue, she's another big church fan and we often communicate via e mail and meet at the shows, she mentioned steves daughter elecktra was ill and in my reply i mentioned i don't ever prey or hassle god but i would do my bit, so suddenly i am thinking about what i need to do to help, and this huge wave just comes up outta the horizon, i think, right i have to catch this for elecktra, and while i'm in the true nature of reality, i will Will elecktra recovery, i position myself perfectly and with a little kick i am propelled along, it's got power and equal force, i concentrate my thoughts, each cell in my body is now in line with the wave, my mind is thinking about steves girl, the wave seems endless, i veer left and then right, it's incredible, i need air soon, but it's not over, i peek up, i am heading near the shore, still thinking elecktra, i imagine she is smiling and with her dad, they are happy.
i grab my guitar and go see my friend peter who is about to go to eastern europe with his guitar, we have a lemonade at some strange pub, then he gives me a electronic tuning device, i wish him luck, we say goodbye and i drive to work, on the way emilie calls, we have a quick chat, she is working her first pegasus shift at a home i know, she has a lovely voice, it's beautiful, i need to wean myself off but i can't. I am a dead man i think, but i am so alive.
I make three amazing pizza's the guys absolutly worship me, 'Who's the best Cook?' I say, they all go nuts and point at me. Yeah man these are great pizza's.
Later i write a long letter to Martin.
I wonder if my 50% has increased. Fuck it man. I am 100% or nothing. Always have been always will, from making pizza to getting married, i want 100%.

i left W. Berlin 20 years ago, i slipped out from certain rock infamy in hedonistic berlin to domestic insularity in avalon beach australia, i left behind me musical brother Martin Von Donaldson, and started a new life, following my dna programming i guess, the instinct kind took over and i left my dream to be an adult, a grown up, with grown up responsibility. I swapped a leather jacket for a Hawaiian shirt and board shorts. I never really said goodbye to Martin, it was just an awkward parting.

Well life is filled with surprises, today i tried the number of the recording studio in germany and spoke to a sound enginneer who happened to be standing right next to Martin.
He was so surprised to hear my voice, says it's got a heavy australian accent.
Martin revealled he had become jewish and discovered the Kabbala, ironically as he always took the piss of my own jewish roots, but i guess it explained a deep connection we both felt towards one another. Imagine, we had been seperated 20 years, and now we was chatting. Martin man. i love ya and i am going to see ya soon, we are going to eat poppy cake and have a glass of whiskey and I'll sing ya a song, song of songs or something, ha.
Martin has two kids.
So there ya go more Magick flowing around me, my whole life is filled with magick, so is your's, get those charkras balanced, fix up that leaky aura, contemplate your ego, loose yourself and find the self, eat no meat, surrender, take control, be responsible, love, dream, surf, embrace the paradox.

old days hanging out in w berlin, my life was kinda crazy, i'd just come back from hitching around the USA, Mexico and Canada, when Martin rang me to ask if i'd rejoin the band he had put together in Berlin, i didn't even know he was there, funny enough it was my ex wife who bought me the ticket to go, i'd been having an unconditional fling with her in London, and we kinda knew the whole thing was doomed from the start, but there was a nice feeling about the whole relationship, a sort of relaxed enjoyment, it was easy baby.
anyways i ended up traveling via amsterdammed, and met Marty at Zoo station, we caught the train to his place in Krezenberger Strasse, where we proceeded to drink a bottle of duty free glenfilich and some poppy seed cake, this proved to be our diet for the next year, apart from the radio active cheese we purchased at the markets cheaply, at the time totally unaware it was post chornobyl, mmm nuclear cheese.
the apartment was between a bar and a church, it was a kitchen, a huge living room, and two bedrooms either side, martins was bright red, mine was a sort of soft pastel white with a hint of pink, we actually got a grant to refurbish the place, in those days the WG govt. was giving cash away, i immediately started to write songs and explore the city. We gathered a few musicians, an amazing drummer from a band called the planets and a multi instrumentalist called Zak and a sweedish sax player called Zoloft and a keyboard palyer called Steel. We started getting our set down, and the hours we kept were certainly nocturnal, breakfast at 6pm, into the studio at 7.30pm out at 1am, nightclubs and bars till dawn, yeah it was crazy. My fave spots were the Jungle Club, where i met the amazingly talented and dead Gabrelle, the Jungle being the most exclusive nightspot in berlin, frequented by various beautiful people, its the place where bowie and iggy ate the berlin wall cake, the music was amazing and its the birthplace of where i developed my crazy dance style, 'Jungle Stomp.'
There were two things i found strange about Berlin, one the weather, i was a tropical guy in -40, i mean waking up and seeing frozen dogs on the street was not my ideal enviroment, and the other thing that i found difficult was everywhere i went i would be asked if i had 'smack.'
I guess i looked a bit like the archtypical dealer, dressed in black, hat, shades, emancipated, sunken hollow cheeks, but smack was not my drug of choice, and dealing with Gabrile was enough to put you off it for life.

after walking pan and drinking two coffees, yes i am back on coffee, two big ones, scanning the sydney morning misinformation old Dick 3 turned up and we discussed the issues at hand, my art, my uncoditional love, my general magickal abilities to create the potentials i need, he just said i was female in essensse, i said i knew that.
people are kind of wierd when i mention my female aspect, they think you are sensitive, gay or like shoes or sumfink. the actual truth i think is in qualities, compared to most australian girls i may as well be a big girl, i hate sports, don't drink beer, don't eat meat, don't like hanging out in packs, i have always been more comfortable in the company of women, despite their strange ways.
later while i was checking out the berlin music scene, i discovered a name that i recognised, Martin Von Donaldson, my old band mate, guitarist and fellow musician. I tried to call him in berlin as there was a number there but no one answered, will keep trying.

Martin and I met in carnaby st london, in the middle of punk rock, he was an orange haired bowie clone and i looked like a cross between hendrix and lou reed, he was heavily into the dammned and x ray spex, i was into iggy and bowie and we discussed the mutual need to make some music. he invited me to sing 'waiting for the man' with some other musician friends, in a place called pekham rye, across the river. i turned up and there was a bunch of freaks all smoking spliffs and drinking beer, we had a strange looking barrow boy on keys, a older cynical chap played bass, i can't even recall his name but he was a funny guy, and there was a spansih guy playing guitar and martin played lead and then we started, all outta key, possibly in several different ones, we did, 'Man who sold the World' and 'Waiting for the Man', (bowie version) they must have liked me cos i got the job although i think they were more impressed with my spliff rolling to be honest.

Years later Martin and I relocated to West Berlin, we lived in Riechenberger Strasse, in a neat apartment between a bar and a church.

series of text messages
her: if you don't marry me then i am going to gold coast in two weeks
me : i am frozen like a rabbit in headlights, its the unbearable lightness of being me, i am immobile.
her: various complaints about her current living enviroment
me: sympathetic response plus the question, 'what are the chances of falling in love with me? answer out of % please.
her: it's not going to happen. i like bad boys
me: well i won't ever lick your feet ever again. what about falling in love with Capt. Mission
her: fuck you, i didn't ask you to lick my feet. don't make me feel guilty
me: you misunderstood, it was a joke, guilt is not my style
her: 50% but not attracted to you physically
me: that's a leap in a space of two minites from 0 to 50%
her: meet me, lets get coffee
me: at 4.30 we could grab coffee in a garage on the parkway i know'
her: come to gold coast with me, don't text me. goodnight.
me: if i text ya will my %age increase?

long day at autistic central but we all had a lot of fun, i made a nice dinner for everyone and there seemed to be a lot of joy in the air. i spent a lot of time just digging my own scene, played the church, ultc over and over, its the best cd ever, no doubts about that. i also wandered through the idea of getting pretended married, it's a romantic abstraction, my thoughts seem to drift down parallel universes where love and life ain't so complex.
fairly happy and relaxed, sucking a brain enhancing smoothie when a fat girl stood before me and said hi.
i didn't know who it was, she was standing there getting in my face, and then slowley it dawned on me, she was an old enemy, best friend of my ex girlfriend. anyways zoe, the fat girl started to tell me how amalia had fucked her over, i looked at her and smiled politely, its not my thing the soap opera reality of other peoples lives. i don't have many memories about that period, they were all ejected from my mind.
zoe just made some dumb choices, she is a minor league player in the the big leauge enemies of captain mission stakes. I kill my enemies by loving them to death, it's just a long term solution, not instant but much more satisfing, they hate to see you happy, they hate that you are not like them, filled with evil virus of hate and bitterness, they need you twisted and insane, to justify their own reality.
yeah i have a lot of enemies, i love them all, i am so grateful that they laothe me, they look at me with disgust and envy, they want to destroy me but they can't even look me in the eyes. yeah i made enemies, i don't suffer stupid people, i don't have time to waste.

bless me cotten socks!
mission control is my own place again, i did a quick neurotic clean and took pan for a random walk, we met evan and his two beasts and i took the chance to stop say hi and be all neighbourly, the strange black clouds gathered somewhere over the horizen, the wind, cold and bitter, a taste of winter, i had two coffees, watched the heavens and read some news.
sometimes reading old news papers are better than reading current ones, old newspapers have events in them which although happened years ago, still happen today, in fact todays news is not really news at all, it's old inaccurate information, so we should say, i'm reading the inacurate information paper.
i bumped into richard the 3rd who told me to watch out for the eagle that was flying just above my head, there was no eagle, it was april the 1st joke, thats okay becuase i told him leary was at the cafe across the road waiting for him and Dick 3 hurried off to see him.
so back at mission control, i attempted to tune me old guitar, and strum a few chords and wrote a couple of songs, then it was time to head to autistic central and see the gang who were all looking happy to see me, i played them a tune, i'd written and made them some pizzas. even people with autism love pizza.
i thought about the marrage thing till me head hurt, that girl has me frozen in her headlights, i am immobilized.

Long ride into the night, sleeplessly complex and slowly my circumstances are drowning me, like soft liquid honey, sweet and pure, deep and deadly. emilie asking me to play Russian roulette with my heart, she comes over all beautiful and fucking gorgeous, and wants to go through the list of +s and – s, the road map to a marriage without the love I want,. I give credit to her honesty, she says she is totally selfish, there is nothing to benefit me, no cash, no sex, no fucking love, and it’s just business and two years of my life, two years.
information comes rapidly, emilie and i meet, we go down the shops for provisions, the happy grocer thinks emile is my wife, 'she's well trained,' he says as she buys the veg, she looks at me amused, later she wants to talk business, i tell her i don't do business but will create a space to talk over the matter that hovers over both our minds, i want to wait till we are home before we talk marriage. i let her talk, and man, this is one lady that can talk, but that accent makes it more than bearable, i mean come on, i can listen to her talk all night but the 'marriage' thing is wearing me out. yes i can feel my defences weaken, we go over the list, i explain, that i have re categorized them into negotiable and non negotiable. i read through the negotiable and we seem quite in tune, however the non negotiable issue is of course the paradox, i can't marry emilie as i will fall in love with her, i also can't live with her knowing that she is fucking other men and women, although i compromised and said she can fuck the women, unselfish being that i am. anyways the situation is stalemate, although according to the immigration dept. i could buy her nine months by lodging an application for marriage, although i would have to marry her within the nine months. well it's 8-9 months extra on the current visa and 8-9 months in which anything can happen, and then maybe nothing, it’s all possibility and it’s all my responsibility. I am frozen in the moment. the problem is she wants to marry me because she knows i am 'reliable and trustworthy', she knows i will respect her, but i don't actually want to, i mean my hormones are going nuts, every time she speaks, looks at me, or breathes my way, blah. i told her that i'd been waiting thirty years for her and she should at least have the decency to fall in love with me immediately, but she just laughed in my face.
The clock is ticking. Is emilie the girl? she meets all my requirements and she even wants to get married, but will she fall in love with me? i guess the question really is, am i her man?

finished 'mammals' a great novel, if you like your reality bleak and french with funny observations and insightful wit and humour, it left me with the existentialist angst that any good french book should leave its readers with.
started unravelling the rainbow by Richard Dawkins, the meme man, it's very good, he's talking about how when Newton discovered the spectrum the english poet Keats said that science had taken all the beauty from the rainbow. its a great topic for a book because dawkins has been accused of being depressingly un faithful to a concept of intelligent design and therefore left his readers feeling alone in a sea of creation that is nothing more than random chance.
in 'rainbows' dawkind suggests that science is driven towards finding the beauty in the chaos and that as it explains existence, more beauty is revealed.
one can apply this to other domains, particularly love, the more i love, the more beautiful life reveals, like the motion upon the surface of the water once the ripples cease, it reveals itself to be a reflection. life?
Its always been a paradox with me, I always get what I want, only to find out, it comes with something that negates itself, my manifestations of reality need fine tuning, I need to become more responsible, what do I do with my creations, I love them and I guess like god, I want them to love me back.

mwp and the mood maidens played their last gig last night at the old hopetown hotel, so i went down to catch them, along with some moon maidens of me own, beautiful simone me oldest friend in australia, the only person who i remained in contact with me from my divorce, origionally the ex's friend, had to do a bit of careful dipolmacy over the years and i have to respect her position, but after many years we are still friends and it was time to take her out and expose her to the strange beauty that has become my life, emilie my maifestation of french extremity, the independant, warrior woman, conquerer of two elements, shamanic essence emerging, all that potential in a overwhelming bundle of passion and lust, emilie where's the love baby, i just want the love?
And last but not least the georgous and divine Trina from the mountains that ya got question why on earth they should call blue with her living there, yeah trina possibly the most amazing artist i know, whom also acts as my creative consultant and embodies enough love to run a small planet with, packed in a neat energy of joy. so yeah we're down in hope town listening to awesome mwp music, and it's all good.
emilie is giving me a list of reasons why i should marry her, she's drawn up the +s and the -s and they are pretty persuasive exept for the distinct lack of love, it's not a bad deal. Me on the other hand, can't travel down that road, it's the Jean Paul Satre syndrome, i'd be permanantly trapped in an existential nightmare, falling in love with some one that would attempt at every oppurtunity to subvert the harmony i have found, she is the wind seeker whereas the wind always comes to me. In a parrallel universe we are married, we fell in love and have a perfect relationship build on those exteme challenges, the ultimate ones that only the very strong can survive or even attempt to contemplate, trust, loyalty, friendhip and love. cliques yeah of course they are, the romance industry fucked it up, like all industry does but in essense, the fairytails are filled with fear, danger and challenge. Its one thing to jump from an aircraft, it's another to taste the speed of life, but baby, you want to be challenged take the ultimate ride. It's high velocity, it's only the really brave that can take this roller coaster, this wild stallion and tame it, the torrid currents of love, no youthful passion stands a chance against it, no simple sex or hormone activity can regenerate this type of commitment, it's love and like the man said, love is sacrifice. Never mind being burnt at the stake for your beliefs, never mind a little crucifiction, never mind a few tears and a busted heart, these are all childrens play compared to a marrage, a pact made with the universal forces, the essensse of the jewish belief is god is seperated from his partner, his partner is female in essensse, splintered in trillions of fragments within creation, every creature that has life is in essensse gods partner and the whole reason for existance is to reunite god with his partner through love. yeah thats what being jewish is. most jewish people don't even know that unless they are kabbalists, most jews don't even believe in god. gods not an old man, he ain't some guy demanding worship and donations, he ain't intrested in prayer and temples, the church he gave us was not build with human hands, there was no design other than an act of love, we are gods wife, we are seperated from him through time and space, we are lost without completion, and loving one another is the key. god wants us to have sex, he wants us to have sex with love, its the essensse of jewish faith, the rest is just ritual and tradition. love and sex baby, dangerous themes to inject into any religious belief or spiritual tradition, let alone our personal lives. Wanna take that ride?
Yeah so although i have no intrest in religious beliefs and change them like the wind, thats the construct of love i work with when i think marriage, its not conventional but it seperates marriage from the motions, of everyday human experience. You are an agent of the universe baby. You got a mission. Don't forget what it is, you're spirit knows it. You know it. It's no extreeme sport, it's extreeme life. Push it to the limit, take it to the end of the road and threshold, love is fucking beautiful and it's your mission should you choose to accept it.

Oh but what about sex?
Yeah i hear ya asking, out there, little pheremones going nuts, outta control, hardwired into human experience is the sex trip. Let me make it clear, sex is fucking brilliant, it should be embraced as a journey, explored as a landscape, sex is the territory we all are programmed into, hetro, home, bi, try get as much as you can until you're ready for the next level, it's the wild stallion we can't tame, it's has its own nature and it's a wild one. Sex often confused with love but it is entwined for sex is the catalyst, it's the instinctive urge to reproduce, driven by pleasure and hedonistic pursuits. A chemical trick, the dna knows how to steer it's prime directive, i mean how many people do you know bring conciousness into sex?
In tantra sex is a spiritual pursuit, one should ideally be able to have sex with whom ever is present, authentic tantra schools designate partners randomly, there is no western concepts of being bound to one person, because tantra is a process, it is a process towards liberation and the idea of being bound to one person is considered entrapment of the mind, we cannot be bound to one person for ever, but we can bring a loving process into our sexual lives that embodies the idea of commitment.
The idea of taming the sex instinct is essential in other practices, daoism, for example encourages sexual yoga but not ejaculation for men, it's is ejaculation control that is the disipline. In your spiritual supermarket, disipline is the key to liberation, walk in and don't buy anything, that's the lesson. Martial arts will tell ya the same thing, you know the secret of martial arts? Don't use it.
Disipline over the sex drive is very important if one is contemplating a relationship with ones universe, becuase it is ultimatley disipline over the self and this is part of your personal eveolution.

Sexual Perversions and Aborrations (excluding the obvious ones) - It's your experience, you're the programmer, take responsibility for it but remember with out love you're not doing it for anything but your own selfish needs, the cosmos deems you insignificant.
Ultimatly sex is information, it's raw data, uncorrupted and fresh, it's energy in a nice little experience that should leave ya smiling, don't engage if your going to feel empty or used, becuase then you are not actually processing the data, you're on some wierd 'self esteeme trip' and the pattern is repeating itself because you don't get it.

When Prof. Leary and i ran 'deepsex' we worked with a group of people who were all middle aged, middle class, new age junkies who couldn't hack the sex aspect of their lives, they had no way to plug into the information we were giving becuase they could not even say the words, 'FUCK, ANAL, ORGASM' in a sexual context. How ya going to update your sexual experience if you can't talk about it?
We gave these people weekly exersises, we offerred them the oppurtunity to take their sex lives into the quantum level and they found changing their diets to hard. How ya going to know love if you can't know sex, and by know i mean drive it, be the piolet, learn to fly.

Okay. What's happening, start of talking about my nights out with my friends and get sucked into a long rave about love and sex.

pet hate, people who don't return or steal my books, okay i am a book freak, i like to keep hold of the stuff i read, i am happy to lend out but generally people do not return them and it makes me angry, yeah okay, i am not so attached to them that i can't function, but its the thought that some one likes me enough to feel comfortable enough to borrow books but dosn't like me enough to fucking return it.
who are these people, you know who you are, from now on i'm going to make a blanket law, no borrowing books at all, fuck ya, proffesser leary being the exception and jake who shares the book neurosis with me, you know the way i see it, lending books is a privilage, if people don't respect the act then they ain't the kind of people yu wanna mix with. While we are on the subject of loosers and abusers, people from byron bay are the worst, freaking hippies.
m.i.a. is wicked a lovely updated novel based on the wizard of oz.
currently reading mammals by pierre m'orot, beautiful houellebecq like story with amazingly intresting tangents along the paradox of humanity and our bleak nature.

by about noon i was exhuasted, running on empty, my lights were dim and i was feeling kinda low, just frittering away a day, unable to read, rest, even sitting in my hammock was difficult, i was so tired restlessness, itching, jonesing, anxiety creeping down the spine, hangong around waiting for something to give, imobile, moving through mission control from room to room, picking up my guitar, putting it down, time slipping past my fingers, unable to digest solids, tremors and cold sweats, then my phone rang and it's Leary. They kicked him off the plane, he was coming home, the crazy madman had another night, yes!!!
i pick him up at the supermarket of our wildest dreams, the place we roam in the twilight hours when the city sleeps, the freaks come out, its late night shopping under fluro lights and the checkout girls are all on slow, the opposite of speed, they can't even crack a smile, but they take our money in exchange of a swipe and an autograph. tonight we go looking for toothpaste then back to newport for a last supper. i invite the georgous emilie, who arrives, takes pan for a walk, while i rendevouz with Leary.
we eat bad thai food but in good company, the food tastes fine. later at mission control i make emilie a cuppa and we have another d and m, and a little fracture appears, a window, i wanna climb in, for a moment i am caught between this overwhelming need to hug her and then i feel like just closing my eyes and sleeping.

Buddah says Life is sufferring, i think some one miss heard him, what he actually made was the statement, 'Life IS sufferring.'
Aparantly its his birthday soon and we all get to throw water at one another, thats kinda neat, much better than eating turkey and spending $ in a consumer frenzy.

bit emotional what with the church fall out, what a fucking band, nuffink like them on the planet, you can keep your u2 and err _______ fill in yer own blanks, yep the chuch are, as i have always said, the only band that matters.
also on top of all that palarva, i had to say goodbye to Proffessor Leary this morning, he's off to be an extreme spa and bar man in thialand, and i will miss him deeply.
i'm just as foolish as any other person but in me years i have learnt a few things and let me just say something about friendship, freindship is something i don't give away, i chose my friends very carefully, in fact to be my friend you have to pass a number of tests and rites of passage, and the Prof. Leary, man he passed them all before we even met. The guys a genius, a true revolutionary, a man of the cosmos, like his namesake. I love that guy and saying good bye was hard.

well its tiger time, which means, for us tigers (the proffessor is one) we have some big stuff happening, not sure what but i can feel it in my bones, it's nice and challenging, amazing and all part of the cosmic plan, mmm, it tastes nice to, well as things develop i'll keep ya posted. my art consultant, in the mountains says my photographs are ready to go, i'll get em soon, great big huge things on accrylic, that hang from the ceiling like sculptures.

I got a nice e mail from the church people saying i was on the guest list, i didn't even know but that's nice of em, lovely chaps and their womin folk are awesome to (thanks tiare, you are a star)

just back from the launch of ultc at the basement, said a quick hello to steve at the bar but ended up distracted by something, curses, anyways it was a fucking fucking fucking sensational. That's all i can say.

get down to the basement need a little medicine
see the boys painting with sounds
meet a few peoples from extended family
traveling to meet what they found
its a mighty long ways in your unifying field
jump the distance in a blink of an eye
you can eat this kinda atmosphere, it's raw food baby
then you better kiss me goodbye

get down to the basement i need a little fix
acoustical rebellion liberation for the free
yeah this is no party or emerald city disco
underneath the spotlights these stars shine so beautifully
get a little taste
oh i need a little more
these are the myths that we made,
and we need to score....

looking at this city and all the people in it
sleep walking through their days
now the sun is sinking and the minds stopped thinking
go back to their habitual ways

get down in that basement man i need hit
a little stimulation goes a long ways
it's groovey and its hip, it's a post physcadelic trip
it's going to blow us away, yeah
had me a sup from that loving cup
now i just leave me to be
but don't get frightened, just get enlightened
with the church and steve kilbey

morning and the kids downstairs awaken me from a deep sleep, where girls are soft and feminine and i am lured into the safety of their breasts and arms, ha reality kicks in like a bad gear change, i'm grumpy and feel old, plus there's a taste in my mouth, risidual pub smell, those girls smoked like chimmneys last night, i get down on the street organise the cars, take pan for his am abulations, then get ready for the day, starts down at ye old hype coffee stop, with leary and some other people, but while i am scanning the daily lies and mis information, i catch the eyes of a georgous young lady who has the most amazing smile, her face is unbelievablely georgous, she's hungarian and scottish, she's living here in australia with her 2.5 kids, we get d and m faster than a couple of lovers in treacle, and then abruptly its time to get to the surf, gotta check those waves else my routine is outta whack, mmm, these waves are fucking perfect, race home get my fin and flippers but the strangest thing occurs, in the few mins its taken me the beach has been closed and i can't go in, huge swell, strong rip.
the proffessor and i discuss the idea of sexual intercourse machines, known as fucking machines, these rae ou and about but they are slightly mechanical and lack any sort of personality, there's a lot of room to manouvere should one want to pursue this, i outline the basics of what a good one should include and the Proffessor has complimentary ideas, he reckons Hong Kong is a good production base. Well we can only see what happens next, but i like the idea.

I answer a few questions for emilie, lots of risidual anger undertones, can't say i blame her, i am a freak after all, the path to hell is paved with good intentions, and most of my intentions are good.

someone asked me how my experiment in unconditional love was going, mmm intresting stuff, i created some freaking amazing things, i still need to process the whole experience a bit. did i say that by calling it unconditional you put a condition upon it, it's just love man, love.

it's been a long day, put in some hardcore hours at autistic central, bones weary, need sleep, but on my way home my phone rang, a very old friend called from the pub at the end of my street and asked me to join her for a drink.
i hate drinking, i hate pubs, i hate going out and i generally would decline but this happened to be my oldest friend in australia and i figured it was about time we caught up, so when i get there her and her friend have drunk 2 bottles of champagne already, one decides to interigate me about various opinions which i give, the first was my reasons for being in australia, and secondly asking what i don't like about australia, almost immediatly i am attacked, i am called an asshole, and told to fuck off, illustrating another reason why i don't like australian culture, the conversation goes something like this,
'so why are you here?'
'cos i have a son here.'
'use fucking asshole, why don't ya go back to england.'
'cos i have a son here.'
'don't use like awestrailia or sumfing.'
'there's parts i like and parts i don't.'
'youse a fucking asshole.'
'why'
'saying you don't like it here'
'i never said that.'
'whats wrong with it'
'it may be easier if i tell ya whats right with it.
incoherent mumbbling
'its an easy lifestyle, the weather, the beach, the indigionous culture'
'fuck use.'
ect

anyways later my friend and i walked down memory lane, she reminded me of a few things i had been involved in when i was doing work with street kids, it's funny at the time i figured the whole thing was an industry, we didn't really do anything except keep it's wheels turning and then in the last few years a few strangers have stopped me on the streets and thanked me for looking after them, yeah i don't even recognise them, but they recognise me.
later the other girl restarted her attack upon me,
'yous an asshole, Fuck off.'
'is there something wrong with your brain?'
'what yous mean, yous just being derogitory.'
'actually i was asking you if there is something wrong with your brain.'
'fuck off.'
'well its just that you are very aggressive to me, you don't listen to what i say, i make a statement and you misrepresent it, so i was wondering if you have some sort of defective brain.'
'fuck off.'
'mmm okay well i was just being friendly.'
the girls were really pissed and i had to drive them home.

watched dark clouds drift across the skies today, like a huge ship, slowly moving up to the harbour, a little bit of rain, a short shower, then cloud burst and then suddenly the bue sky appeared and the sun smiled and every one seemed relieved that their weekend was not ruined, me i sent the gorgeous emilie her answer today, it hurt like hell...

yet there it is, a nice piece of writing, just the right amount of humor and sobrietry, and yeah every word true, its a sad day here at mission control, i don't know what to do next, i mean i guess i should work on a few songs, i mean i have a heart filled with inspiration, may as well do something crazy with it.
Here's a song i wrote today.

Second Chances

girl on a bike you're a star in my eyes
a modern expression of a post impressionist mind
flash passed the cafes and all the street signs
chasing the wind and all the car tail lights
this city is empty but its filled to the brim
with people all seeking something to believe in
and throw me a look, toss me a smile
i seen you speeding slow, down for a while

when we exchange glances, i know it enhances
my faith in love at first sight and second chances

girl on a bike dressed in helmet and jacket
your exhuasts fucked and its making a racket
but i can still hear my heart pound like a drum beating
everytime i see you on that bike speeding
i know i am foolish what can i say
its in my blood, i was born that way
yeah slam on those brakes and come to a stop
let me ride with ya till we both drop

when i make my advances, i'll take my chances
to my faith in love at first sight and second chances

Mmmm as you know i am a big fan of the church, specifically steve kilbey whom i see as one of the true great visionaries of australian culture, in his blog he writes about a drug he calls memory, and it's intresting as i spend a lot of time dwelling upon the usefulness of memory, is it a drug? Are we all just addicted to the chemical process of remembering, editing, i guess it is a subjective reality, and memory is part of what shapes it. Me i have a very non linear memory, not sure if it's the blows to my head i sustained in london or just some strange wireing but my memory is so non linear, it has no chronological flow, in fact i remember things from the future as much as i do the past.
Old Proust wrote about remebering the past, but if i was Proust i'd be writing about the future just as much, the constraints of time impede liberation of the mind, don't be fooled, don't take any notice of birthdays, don't care about what day it is, never wear a watch, never play any importance on anythng that has artificial time, just follow the cycles of nature and take a step to freedom.
The Daoists never give their age away, you know why? becuase they have no idea how old they are.
Memory is the brains self editing process, usually most of it is junk, nostalgic trips down fake realities we arrange to suit our sense of order, memory is hacked and cracked all the time, william burroughs experimented with the cut up technique in writing, a technique that propelled writting into the future. I don't use his technique often but i occassionally delve into it, the idea of randomly chopping up bits of information and them randomly putting them back together is a very effective way of getting order from chaos. The results have a predictive quality, thus a memory from the future.

a flexable mind embraces change, yeah easy to read difficult to do, every disaster is a potential blessing, thats how i see things now, make it a positive else its going to destroy you, the world is not at war with ya, it just feels like that if you remain fixed, a blade of grass bends in the wind, a tree snaps. well the world is not at war with me, it brings me beautiful french girls, lesbians want my babies, i love my job, i love my play, i love my dog and my son, i have nothing but love and grattitude. travelling opens the mind, i saw things that confronted me, i saw things that i found difficult to deal with, cripples, starving, poverty like you never believed, i saw the sick, the lame the deseased, i saw creulty. The creulest thing i ever saw, a chained monkey, large and on a long leash being dragged into the ocean by some islamic africans in zanzibarr, the monkey was screeching, resisting and freaking out, monkeys like the jungles, they like the land, being forced into elements like the ocean is unnatural, there is no collective unconcious to fall back on, it's abohrent to the monkey. The gang were all teens, laughing and enjoying the monkeys sufferring, i was in a resurant watching this, i ran down screaming at the kids and they jeered at me, one threw a rock, the two girls i sat with pulled me away, tears were pouring down my face, and i saw the light in the monkeys eyes, he looked at me with pity, more intelligence in those eyes than the idiots species who enslaved him.
i don't care what humans do to oher humans, it's sad and disgraceful but i expect a little brutality from humans, evolution my ass, humanity has never taken responsibility for its own evolution, it's no more evolved than the dinosuars were.
But i do care about how we treat animals, thats why i don't eat anything i have not killed myself.

Finally caught up with professor Leary this morning, it was really good to touch base with such a wise old soul and fellow quantum navigator, despite the bad news that he is going overseas on some jaunt to Thailand, mmm, his absence will take its toll on me but i am happy for him, he's off seeking work overseas and who can blame him.
i had a quick debrief, he reckons it's an excerise in unconditional love, me i have had enough exercises in unconditional love with Marnee, i don't need any more.
We wandered down to the beach, it looked cold but clean and inviting, but i did not have time to get wet today. Maybe tomorrow. Today i needed to process some information.
processing information on quantum levels is a vastly important aspect of quantum magick i cannot stress how important this is. To do this you need a space, a sacred space or a space that is energetically cleared. How do you do this, well, there's a multitude of ways, the best and most effective is a visualization of white energy surrounding you like an egg, emanating from you out. One can attempt Banishing Rituals, the lesser Banishing Ritual is fine if you like these things with added drama, personally i just want something practical and effective so i use a white light, i create a pentagram shape (each point representative of a quantum dimention) and then chant some mumbo jumbo, usually state my intention, 'I clear this space Now!' will do, but you can tailor it to suit yourself. Basically its the same principle as the water experiment i mentioned earlier, the level of drama should be inversely proportional to the confidence or power of the magickian. It's possibly best to do this while about to sleep, but if you know what you're doing you can do it before consulting an oracle or asking your body. The body has all the answers, it reveals it's response in dreams or in location, else oracle use will be sufficient, however be objective when reading your response. Anyways me, i like to process information slowly, i make the alternatives of my situation a reality, ie give birth to all the options i want to, thus i end up with an array of defined timelines and realities, the one with the best outcomes (long term) i bring into my aura, the egg shape, then contract it into me. The process can take ages, a few hours, but with practice can take a few minites. At some point in time it becomes instantaneous.
Well what ever occurs next in this reality, it makes no difference becuase in another the result you wanted manifested, therefore the process needs to be done twice, once to invoke the event, one to invoke the reality. Partical Wave baby, its the nature of duality, its a paradox.

Jake and i watched david attenburogh dvd just like we used to, i made him some dinner and we had a glass of wine, he started to tell me about the ex's current boyfriend, some sort of personality clash. 'It's okay jake, he don't like me i don't like him and that's the way it's always been with mums boyfreinds, they are all the same, beer filled, sports crazed, loud, aggressive, never read a book in their lives, monkeys. When ever i see that guy i always say, sit down, have a bannana.'

I recall two events, one from the early years of my divorce, i was living in a small flat in glebe, and it was the first time Jake was allowed to spend the night with me at my place, don't ya love those archaic custordy laws, welfare of the child my ass, it's just another womins movement based around this stuidly fake myth that all men are incapable of bringing children up. Anyways, the thing is jake had fallen asleep after playing with my girlfriends make up, he was wearing eye liner and lipstick, i had fallen asleep next to him and awoke to this loud banging, which was the ex-wife come to snatch my boy away.
When i passed Jake to her she freaked out after seeing his face, 'You fucking asshole, he's a fucking boy, why can't you take him to sports, he's a fucking boy you shit, you're going to give him a fucking complex and you can't see him again etc.'
I was half asleep and shocked to respond, but later i thought 'complex me, if anything is giving anything a complex its an outburst like that.'

Years later i rang up to speak to Jake and one of her boyfriends started to threaten me over the phone, 'you fucking bastard, don't ring here again or i'll smash your face in. etc'
By now i was used to this so it didn't phaze me, but year in year out i always thought one day jake will figure it out, and i'll be ready.

Well i am looking forwards to sleep tonight, it's been an emotional few days and i am exhuasted.

7am and we are at the beach, its all action, non stop hardcore girl kite surfing, there is enough wind to get a short session in, the grey clouds offer a range of diverse conditions, Emile says it's the ones that are shaped weirdly that are the dangerous ones, they are low in the sky and produce vicious winds. From where i stand the ocean looks messy, the type of surf that i would never go into, it's a choppy violent opaque mish mash of torrent waiting to steal your soul. But emile is already unfurled and inflated her kite, it's massive thing with lots of string and leads and she looks like an angel as she heads towards the waters edge, her wings spread behind her in all their Blakian glory.
Pansy and i play at the shore, the girls are out there and suddenly i see the extreme in the sports, it's not only one challenge but it is two, the ocean and the wind.

So here i am with the most beautiful girl in the world, she's the girl i created, a french anjelina jolie, she's independent, smart and gorgeous and like all the creations i manifest comes from a desire that is deep and strong, instictive and intuitive, propelled by a power i developed called quantum magick. And Emilie wants to marry me. Yes you read that right. It's all i ever wanted in my romantic life, to marry a french girl, yet here's the catch, the irony, the yin to the yang, the bittersweet truth, the paradox, the love and non locality.
Emile has only three months left on her visa, the govt. in their glorious bureaucratic wisdom have given her a use by date, and options are running short, the sands of time slip through the hourglass, marriage is the last resort and i am there, for once in my life standing in the right place at the right time, and yet like every great french love story, its going to be a tragic ending.

Here's the options,

1. Marry emilie as a business arrangement, after she gets the papers we separate, she's happy and i am miserable but i can speak french and kite surf.

2. Marry emile and hope that in a few months she actually starts to feel some emotional attachments towards me and falls in love with me, thus the sham becomes legitimate.

3. I drag myself through the anguish of heartbreak and silently die day by day as emile becomes happier and happier the closer her permit reaches her.

Bottom line, i really can't marry unless it's for love, yeah the benefits with emile are huge but i rather not pretend to be all noble as i fall apart. A girl like emile is easy to fall in love with.

"Be careful what you wish for" is the lesson here, although i learnt it a long time ago, when it come's in a package like emile i don't mind learning it again.

I spoke with this to Proffessor Leary, i rang him in an emotional meltdown, (yes i am human) and he said, 'it's what makes you intresting.'

Bless him.

Okay, i am sleepwalking through my day, muscles ache, my teeth feel like they need a holiday, gravity is unfair, the weather starts in miserable London grey and ends on a lovely bright aftenoon in paradise then my phone rings, its Jake. (Jake if you're reading this, this is the conversation i have waited 15 years for.) He asked if he could move in with me.

it's midnight, the southerly winds just kicked in, the trees rustle, clouds travel across the dark skies like time lapse, i sit in my hammock watching the world pass me by or is it me passing the world.
i got home and couldn't sleep, the phone rang a few times, things needed doing, my dumb sense of responsibility didn't allow me time to kick back, it's go go go at mission control. Yes today i had my first wind kite lesson, and yeah it's as hard as it looks, my poor brain, scrambled from exhuastion and lack of sleep trying to take in all this information about wind speeds, knots, kite dimensions and all the other intricate instructions, while in the presence of the beautiful french instructor. Rest assured it was straight in one ear and out the other, one may as well have been talking in Chinese, but i remained focused in a superficial way and when it was time to fly the kite i seemed to pick it up reasonably fast, more feel that technique.
Later we made dinner at mission control.

Its a grey overcast sunday, the kinda day where ya just lay on the sofa and watch old movies with a steaming mug of coco and a cute girl to cuddle up with, however at Mission Control we don't have a cute girl, any coco or a movie to watch, but that's the kinda day it is.
Well after my last confession, i did meet emilie again, we had sushi in manly where she declared her undying love and admiration for me, well okay that bit actually only occurred in my head but we did spend a lovely evening together as she revealled her history and some personal stuff, i listened with restraint, a proffessional detachment, intimate issues were discussed, my mask was up, but let me say that wearing masks in the precence of a beautiful french girl, the facsade cannot last long, a smile must have flashed through, a dreamy vacant look passed across my eyes, you know what it is like, swimming in an ocean of potential, drowning in possibility, this is the Magick that i obsess about, this is the way it works.
We later went for a drink, resumed a conversation about her travels, she's travelled everywhere. She's got the scars. I don't really like manly, its filled with obnoxious drunks and loud english backpackers looking to score with the natives, still fresh in culture shock, overwhelmed by the beach, the sand, the weather and the beer.
Anyways, emile asked if i wanted to spend some time with her on monday, i said i would try to get some time off work, maybe i could swap a shift but it was unlikely.
The next morning i sent a text, 'Only a total madman would choose to go to work over spending the day with a beautiful french girl.'
Kinda romantic as it gets for me.

I met up with Agent Stone, Saturday morning in the city, we had both worked the night, both struggling with the gravity that lack of sleep inflicts on the body and mind. It was however, very good to see her, we drove to surrey hills where my freind Jaqc and Georgina were holding an exhibition of their photography. Nice stuff. Then lunch in a very cute but far to red cafe. The bright walls and floors and cieling reminded me of Martins room in West Berlin, an angry person dosn't need red walls. Jaqu mentioned she would be going to europe to visit berlin and i told her a few spots to check out.
i spent a small fortune on books and then agent stone dragged me on a cd shopping extravaganza through the city, then it was time to go back to work, so you can imagine the toll tiredness was taking on my body. However work was an easy night, i caught a reasonably good movie called, 'In a Savage Land' that had some intresting themes, then sleep hit me like a curtain of velvet wrapping around my body.

When i was 13 i had this crazy idea in my head that i would marry a french girl, obviously that didn't happen, despite my efforts. i did actually loose my virginity to a french girl called genie, she was beautiful, hardly spoke any english but definitely spoke the language of love, this of course re affirmed my faith that one day i was going to find a french girl to marry. However things being what they is, i married an Australian which let me say i have no regrets about because in some ways it turned out to be the best thing ever, i have a beautiful son after all. Yet there was always this thing, it was under the surface of every relationship i had, until i just resigned myself to the fact that it was a pipe dream, a fairy tale type thingy, wishful thinking, some stupid fantasy residual from adolescence.
The last two nights i have been seeing a a really nice girl called emile (like amilie in the movie) she's not exactly the person i was expecting to turn up, i mean i was looking for your archetype but there's something very attractive about her, and it's not just a physical thing either, she's got something that i really had forgottern about in girls, she's got heart.

i took the name captain mission when i fronted a band in the late 70's, we stole the name of the band to, 'this deep fix' from micheal moorcock who played with hawkwind and went on to write brilliant books based upon the hindu cosmology, the multiverse, well worth having a look at if you like a good yarn.

well the church played on the opening ceremony of the big sporty event in melbourne, i saw a lot of furry animal costumes, a duck and some people dressed as stars, caught a flash of MWP's guitar, but it sounded fantastic, really nice and steve's voice all soft and enchanting, hope their record sales burst through the roof.

Origins, i have had a few, here's one i found floating around cyberspace.

About the attempted utopian society Captain Mission's Pirate Utopia, history, population, economic and social structure.
Captain Mission's Unique Pirate Utopia

This is a true story of a fugitive who wanted to establish a better society to live in--and who tried to create such a society in the early 1700s.

Capt. Mission was born in Provence, France. At the age of 16--tall, strong, handsome--he went to sea. He matured into a contradiction--a combined "man of action and dreamer." A brilliant strategist, he was also a thinker. His social philosophy, although crude and strange, was democratic and "the deepest passion in his life was love of women." But even as he loved his neighbor, he was forced, as part of his profession, to kill his neighbor. Once, after boarding an enemy vessel, and disposing of a half-dozen ferocious Moors, he was remorseful, and when his ship, the Victoire, docked in Italy, he sought solace by hurrying straightaway to a Catholic Church and the confessional.

By chance, the Italian priest who heard Mission's confession was also a young, restless, somewhat radical dreamer. His name was Pere Caraccioli, and Mission's confession of his seafaring adventures and sins so stimulated and intrigued the good father, that he promptly discarded his cassock and went to sea with his visitor.

Together, the 2 young men spent weeks discussing the troubles of the world and brewing their own utopian remedies. Then, suddenly, the Victoire became locked in battle with a Dutch ship. An enemy cannonball killed the Victoire's captain, and the 2nd-in-command hurried to run up the flag of surrender. Francois Mission would not have it. He decked his superior, took over command, and above the roar of conflict he exhorted his fellows to rally and, in the end, to win.

After the battle, there was indecision. Mission and Caraccioli conferred. Then the expriest confronted the men, and he said, "You, Francois, and you, my friends, have often spoken idly of wanting to be not subjects to a king but free citizens in a better world, in which liberty and equality of rights prevail. You have wished for an ideal Republic. Then here it is, the Republic of the Victoire!"

Thus began one of the most unique episodes in history. The ship, Victoire, was renamed The Republic of the Sea, and placed under the leadership of Captain Mission. The members of the crew, 200 able-bodied Frenchmen, plus 35 sick and wounded, became socialized pirates.

Never before had Cartagena, or the Spanish Main, or the West Indies, known buccaneers such as these. Instead of the white skull and crossbones on the traditional black field--the Jolly Roger--they hoisted a pure white flag embroidered with the motto "For God and Liberty." On shipboard they divided all money and all belongings, and dwelt in physical equality. Profanity and intoxication were forbidden, and anyone found guilty of either outrage was "tied to the grating and severely whipped."

On every possible occasion, Captain Mission exercised his belief in equality and liberty. Capturing a Dutch boat, he freed all the black slaves and made them citizens of his amphibious democracy. His raids on shipping were as bloodless as possible, performed with great sensitivity and good manners, and were continued only to obtain food, arms, supplies, and voluntary citizens. From the 1st Dutch ship, Captain Mission, using verbal persuasion only, won 11 volunteers for his floating utopia. From the 2nd prize, an England merchantman, Mission lured 30 British converts.

On contemplation. The issue i have with the idea known as Unconditional Love is by definition it has a condition, that it is Unconditional. In practical terms my idea of love is as defined by my colleague the good Dr. Leary is the absorbing of information without attachment to it. So yeah nice bunch of words but what happens when you don't get the girl?
Okay, so what happens is the information is usually delivered by some side effect of the lymphatic system, commonly known as emotions. Hurt, disappointment, rejection, and various other weird shit translate as just energies with specific colours and vibrations, i generally taste them, get a feel for how they work and how they effect me, what they mean on various levels and what i can learn from the experience, there's no real attachment to them, just subtle processes that i am aware of, various significance can be placed upon them, but this is random and arbitrary, after all, it's just an emotion. An opportunity to exchange, update and experience information.
This does not mean i am a robot, navigating my way through life, on the contrary, if you read my other entries you can see i get angry and passionate about things just like you, but the signifcance of these experiences are quantic. It's not just all energy, its information.

Listening to an awesome new cd, i urge you to go buy, if you like sexy dark creeping throbbing funky sexy sonic treatments, with great vocals and lyrics. The band is called Dimmer and the cd is 'It all looks the same at night.'

wandered through what was once kings cross, now a kind of cleaned up version, nice wide pavements, coffee shops, fountains, i found myself wandering into the markets and what do i see, no junk, no objects of art, no eccentric old ladies with their pendulums swinging wildly, instead everything is gone chardonnay but if ya look carefully, you can still catch a glimpse of the junkies, the hookers and their bikie boy friends and in the shadows the vampires lurk.

when i lived in west berlin i was always asked by girls if i had heroin to sell. i guess wandering around in a cape and a wide brimmed hat, makes one look slightly narcotic, generally i didn't have heroin on me and girls would slide away almost as fast as they attached themselves, but one girl in particular stayed Gabrielle the stunning air hostess from the now defunct dan air, the my Austrian beauty, wrapped in leather and scarves, winding her was through the the crowded dance floors like a tropical fish in a tank, moving her hips like a dancer, spinning around blazing light like a cool sun. She's dead now but i like to think about her on my birthday.

Mr. Leary went to HOME nightclub to see the djs he has been talking about as much as i have to him about the church, they are called infected mushroom, a phychadelic dance band from Israel. he texted me a few times from the rave and on said,
'i just saw a man get arrested for smoking next to a smoking machine.'
the irony of life is alive and well

I crashed out this fine morning, all exhausted from the last few nights, my tired bones couldn't even make it into the hammock so i slept in my bed.
( actually its bed in a spare room, my bedroom has been taken over by the excess books that no longer fit in my library)
i had the strangest dream.
I was with Jake traveling and we had found ourselves in a jurassic park environment, except no dinosaurs, just real wild animals, it was kinda like a safari with except the tourists all play a huge game where they disperse and then have to make their way towards a huge look out tower, jake had a bike and often went riding and in my dream he separated from me, i made my way to the tower hoping that i would get a look from the high vantage. the keeper was a reasonably young helpful friendly guy and his assistant was a odd bumbling joker of a fellow, while i searched the other tourists all made it back and went on to the next part of the game until it was just me and i guess jake left. Then i saw his bike laying in its side near a dense patch of swamp. the keeper warned me, 'crocodiles.' i ran down there and found the bike and jake but in my enthusiasm, waded into some of the swamp area, in my dream i could feel a weight upon my feet and gradually the razor sharp pain on my feet, the realization dawned upon me, i dared not look, but the keeper and assistant laughed as my feet were wrapped in tiny crocodiles nibbling away. 'Help me.' I asked before passing out.
Then i woke up, all weird and disoriented and told you.

What's the deal with unconditional love, i don't see it anywhere, i don't feel it, not in a wishy washy new age kinda way, touchy feely stuff don't wash with me, the worst kinda freaks are the ones who seem hell bent on preaching and converting and being all hippie about the whole thing, love comes with conditions, it's conditions that make the planet spin and the electron orbit, its conditions that make the flower bloom and the stars twinkle, it ain't unconditional.
If you tell me you practice unconditional love, i say, go to down town Mogadishu and tell them all about it man, me i don't wanna know.

I wake up each morning with the sunrise, it streams into my mind interfering with my dream landscape, and for a moment the two are superimposed, then like a struggling duality only one can be observed, usually the one with the telephone ringing.
I always start my day by taking the dog for a walk, having a coffee with Leary and reading the newspapers, then just before the crowds set upon us we wander down to the ocean to check out the surf.
This morning i was a bit anxious as i was meeting with Jake whom i have not seen in a while, and there was a few fatherly insecurities jumping around the last few days that i had kind of dealt with by not dealing with them. So anyways it was a bit anxious, there's a lot of history and mythology that has been created about drop out dad and i have always been keen to live up to it.
However today was a real revelation. Jake and i wandered into Babylon and had a cup of tea in the bookshop. He had just seen Donnie Darko and we were talking about the idea of giant rabbits, drugs, mental illness, under the milky way, time loops, quantum theory etc. it was a very interesting conversation and revealing in that jake was listening to me.
Later he confessed he was at a stage in life where he was bored, there were lots of options and they were all presenting themselves, he did not know what to do. Cautious of my position i said he should think about doing what he loves doing and not stress out to much, but i was kinda chuffed that he was able to be honest with me and value my wisdom.
I have a deal with Jake where I have always bought him whatever book he wanted, its an arrangement we have had since he was 3 and he has never abused the deal, so today i bought him two books to alleviate the boredom.
After we did a bit of shopping, i showed him some of the music i had been doing, it's pretty elementary, kinda ambient stuff but we knocked out a couple of rhythm tracks and he was quite interested in the process, he has a good ear, anyways we parted on good terms and at the moment that's all i can ask for really.

Then it was off into the city for the Premiere of the Directors cut of 'What the Beep' which i have to say was disappointing, the same old stuff repeated over and over by various academics who assume their audience are all dumb. There were a few inconsistencies, they spent the first hour slagging of the dogma of religion, then presented science as fact. Science is a fable. Other issues i have with it is in their animation where they tried to explain dimensions, they stopped at three. Excuse me! For a bunch of scientists in a Ramtha cult i think they could have gone much further. They never talked about drugs at all unless it was in addiction context, yet when talking about change of consciousness surely drugs are entry point. Don't get me wrong, i like the ideas in the movie and think they did a good job with the first cut, the second is just an info ad for ramtha. Everytime i saw her speak i felt like she was about to say,'Humans of earth do not panic. My alien fleet hovers above waiting for your surrender.' They should just edit her out.
What i find amazing is that all these academics and cult members all tell us to create their own reality, which is possible, but they do it from the safety of their studies and faculties, i would say, 'Go take your reality into Somalia.'
Then tell me about it. Yeah, i was a bit disappointed. But on the way home I created a reality that involved a giant rabbit playing a tiny electic guitar at the junction on King Street. And later i sat next to a skateboarding quantum mathmatiician who had also seen the movie, he wanted to debreif and we agreed on its weaknesses. He was talking about how he is building a quantum computer. I asked him if he could access information from the quantum vaccunm and he said 'Only if the information wants to reveal itself to you.'
Later he confessed how he had become a scientist to disprove the existance of god and now he was faced with the idea that science itself is a god substitute. He said it was like reading only the left pages of a book.
Both Leary and I said to him point blank, he should have been in the movie.
So in the tradition of creating your own reality, yeah it was an intresting night.

Surfs big today but i have to put in some hours at the office of autistic people and weird behaviors. You know what? After 25 years of working in disabilities and social work, i think every one is disabled in some way or the other. It's just some are better at covering it up than others. At most of these establishments the staff are fucked up, having affairs, breakdowns, gambling their lives away, enslaved by drugs, drink and despair, they all have relationship issues, most are power and control freaks, so you know, at the end of the day the clients i work for seem kinda normal.

I have a friend, a girl i met once while flirting indiscriminately who keeps sending me filthy and provocative text messages.
I am quite surprised and a little shocked. I am also tempted to respond.

i often talk about the Will. In ye olde magickal terms Will is considered as the prime directive of the magickian, the reason of the Magickians existance, every one has one, and in Crowleys much misunderstood system, 'do what thou wilt' is taken out of context becuase his detractors always forget to mention the next bit, the idea that it will not intersect with other peoples Will.
So what is the Will and how do we find it?
The process of becoming a magickian involves various rituals the most famous being, 'Conversation with holy guardian angel.'
Some mystics use Kundalini as a substitute, it's all going to depend on the system that you use, te memes that you are running and the beliefs you have. In Quantum terms, lets look at what Francis Crick, the brilliant scientist who after dicovering the code of life, dna, researched the codes of conciousness and suggests that neurons are where it is at.

'It's the basis but its not just a single neuron, its the interaction between the billions of neurons we have in our heads. possibly in animals heads as well, which is producing the process, becuase conciousness is a process, not a thing and the neurons are the actors.'

So imagine if the actors that make up your neurons all read from the same script, that is Magickal Will.

These are not commandments but I guess they are my conditions that make up a resonable society in these strange days. They are not in any order.

If you have very young children do not expose them to marketing, advertising or corporate brain washing. This is possibly the most dangerous threat to children in our society. Encourage them to play, explore and take their time understanding their own commercial interest free environment. Advertisers have hytnotized our childrens brains well before the education system can. It's war. Be natural.

Don't believe anything unless you experience it and then remember whatever you experience has been filtered through your own memes and thought processes. So really just don't believe anything.

Do not eat meat, it will kill you and your planet.

Know thyself.

Follow your Will but don't interfere with anyone else's Will.

Explore your planet. Do not exploit it.

Let your heart talk to your brain, understand the ego and the maya of this existance.

Make art

Make love not war (ask me for details)

Live in the Moment

Die Gracefully

Don't Panic.
Remain Calm.
There is no Blog today due to sleep deprevation and drug ingestion. Reality has slipped sidways by about 78% and the strange pixies who dance upon my keyboard are now controlling this Blog. There are many things I would like to say but unfortunatly cannot. Instead heres a poem from the pixie people.

lost amongst the monkey dominnion
we watch them eat the land and cull the vast sea
the counter culture culture counter tribal civilization
the empire of monkey secrecy
tell us you're plans oh hairy ones
tell us why destruction?
ha! we would laugh at your folly
if we shared your dimension
here in your monkey kingdom
constructs abound to fail
built upon such weak foundations
you are hanging from your tails
savage humanity the ignoble beast
plod towards your bethlehem
we fade into our realms safety
for fear of your infection

these pixie beings don't like us.
dont panic
remain calm
I'll be back tomorrow.

More amazing blood red sunsets as i walked along the beach with pansy, surf looks ominous dark and mysterious, the colors of a tragedy about to happen, i bumped into some people we spoke about some things, music, the universe, travels and animal communication, its all mental pictures apparently, although i communicate with Pansy through a strange long lost symbolic canine code, almost similar to Egyptian hieroglyphics, something i picked up from the gods of the underworld, annubus, when he plucked my heart from my chest, still beating and placed it upon the scales to weigh against the feather of Maat...but that's another story....

So more Why magick?
The structure of the Universe is filled with possibility, it exists in everything and manifests as probability in a material universe. For example when you flip a coin it is highly probable it will be a head or a tail when it lands but it is any of those things unless it is observed. The realm of quantum physics says no. And if not what is it? It's potential baby. It's potential to be a head or tail.
The Magickian acknowledges that he or she can influence the outcome and swing the laws of probability. It would be silly to say they can turn the coin into a fish but they can influence the outcome of the flip. This is strange example as magickians do not use their will to influence things like this, they usually create windows of opportunity to assist them with their creative processes, and the effort invested in ritual and focus needs to have a pay off relative to the result.
The Will is the arrow of the Magickian, and this can take many years to understand, the true purpose of someone's existence is something most people never consider but lets look at an example.
My Will is to make a music cd.It is what I was put on the planet to do, it is in my blood and bones, it is all i think about and it is where my talents lay.
Now i can't expect this to just happen, the probability is low, so i have to learn an instrument, maybe some musical theory, have a basic insight into the realm of music industry, get some people to assist. Write some songs, do the work. Okay having written a song I may decide I want to release it as a single, it has all the qualities that a good song should have, it's catchy, melodic, nice jangly guitars and good lyrics. So on the eve of it's release I perform a ritual. The ritual is performed according to the specific ceremonial specs needed (i'll look at this later) and hey presto the song is released and gets a bit of airplay.
Now this may have happened anyways, its hard to know but you have tipped the odds to your favour slightly, and like all good magick this needs repeating until it is verified. A strange thing that happens to me is I often sing a song, usually obscure and it is played on the radio the next hour. Because I sing the song under certain conditions I then invoke it and it manifests in my reality. Prayer is a simple form of magick as is chanting. Later we will look at how the magickian does this. For now just imagine this.
Going back to the observation of the coin, heads or tails?
Q mechanics suggests that when you look at the coin you choose one reality, the reality which registars as heads say, yet another reality is created where it is tails and you are observing that coin as tails. The two realities seperate yet both exist.
Fortunatly for me then, I get the girl at least in one reality....somewhere.

there's a beautiful low end spectrum light filtering through the darkest clouds, it comes streaming through my windows, dusk on mars, the birds settle, a few people walking their dogs past my balcony, Pan lazily checks the local hounds out as they parade past his elevated view.

Why magick?
At the risk of repeating myself, magick is using the universe, its physics and mystery to assist align you're needs with its own. The Universe is not a moral experience, therefore when people talk about evil, they are talking about a human quality, one could say the universe is devoid of judgements, it only expands towards order as all complex systems do, it is coherent. Therefore Magick should be used in conjunction with this universal coherence.
Yes one can argue an amoral perspective, but this is not taking responsibility and i have said elsewhere the magickian takes responsibility. Bear in mind that once the magickian understands this, he or she now is able to influence their reality. One could argue that everything they exist in, is now their own responsibility because they create it. To acknowledge this only increases the influence one has over their experience. However one must embrace this and meet the responsibility with grace and dignity, for this is a relationship that commands respect and honour.
The ancients who investigated Magick had a very sophisticated map of the magickal universe and held against current research into Quantum Physics, there is no overlap save for teminology and a few archaic ideas mostly presended as code.
I have developed a framework I call Quantum Magick, it uses the principles of a magickal system but within a Quantum realm. To practice it one needs to approach their duties as I have explained in earler posts, ie memes, ego, diet, fear, surrender and death. All Magickal systems require training, QM is no different, it's the brain and the mind that need shaping, the body follows suit. A well prepared neural net, a flexible mind and healthy heart (metaphysically speaking) will ensure good results.
Useful authors who i read while preparing are Tim Leary, Al Crowley, Christopher Hyatt, RAW, Howard Bloom, (specifically his book on time travel) Ervin Lazlo and Peter Carrol. Read the Bahagvahd Gita, Dahmapada, The Bible, The Books of Enoch. The Te Tao Ching. Avoid any New Age material, Theosophical clap trap, anything that reeks of religion.
Reading these books while adjusting the neural networks in your brain, the hardwire, means that you will actually gain more from them than reading under normal conditions. Gradually you can understand the analogies, the inference and the subtle poetry they elude to.
Magick is not about tricks, walking on water, manifesting gold, although these are possible, it's about potentials, possibilitys and invocation and evocation, it's about being the wave and the particle, it's about love baby, but not the kind of love that romance writers talked about, it's LOVE, the kind that the universe in it's grace expands towards and offers us glimpses of. Set the Controls to the Heart of the Sun.