why can't i be allowed to explore my own mind?
in my own home, quietly and peacefully in what ever way i choose?


this is something i can't understand.


the narcotic informants, the neighbourhood watch types, the thought police in all their many forms and incarnations, the twisted nasty bitter ex. why advocate for this type of culture and society, it reeks of the past, stalinism or some fucking stupid idea that came undone and we look back with horror that it actually happened. 


why is there this restriction?


why does the word drugs have the premise of legality and the veil of lies and fabrication, why is truth manipulated by the law makers?


why is alcohol and cigarettes acceptable and encouraged when so many other 'medicines' that are not traditional in western culture incorrectly defined as illegal drugs.


why does the violence and destruction that is so obviously evidenced in society, considered taxable and culturally acceptable when smoking the precious leaves of the wise marijuana medicine which is peaceful and healing can land you in jail.


something is wrong.
what the fuck is it?

ice age five, that's what the experts called it but for me it was just the white age, it had been like this since i was a child and the forecast was not changing for the next thousand years.
i'm not quite sure how i survived all this time, most didn't, luck i guess was smiling down on me, but i'm not sure if it was good luck. 
i was alive, survived the catastrophic climate shift, the big freeze.


i took my beasts down for food, they hunted in that frozen wilderness and managed to find a lone killer whale which they began to devour in some sort of ecstatic carnivorous state. 
i walked over the snow field where the shopping mall lay buried under 60ft of ice and snow and there they were in full frenzy, their fur covered in whale blood, the orca looking like it had been dropped from an aircraft and hit the ground in a jackson pollock like explosion, entrails and blobs of blubber carpeting the area. you would see the strangest things sometimes, things from civilisation sometimes just surface, useless things, coke machines, cars, computer screens and a wide variety of frozen creatures, once i even saw a mass of snow frogs jumping across what used to be the ocean. 
i sat down and rolled a smoke, watched the beasts eat their prey, they left a strange cathedral of bones and then slowly made their way back up the hill towards me, i could see the exhaustion in their movement and the blood drunk satisfaction in their eyes. they fell around me in a deep sleep.
i wasn't planning to stay out here long, i had a purpose so after i finished my joint i wandered down to the hole.
the passageway was a man made tunnel with a wrought iron step ladder down to the bowls of the mall, it had been cut away a few months ago by the survivors but something had happened, they never returned. it was probably that they had decided it was safer down there after all there were supplies for many years, all kinds of things, products from the old days. 
but the big freeze had a way of leaving clues, blood stains, currents of scent, frozen entrails, corpses and the occasional recorded document. 
that was what returned to me yesterday, the only evidence of the team.
the camera was strapped to the back of a wolf, he had come running into the cave, he was wounded badly and died shortly after. the camera was dead but it's components seemed to be in good order it would need a charge and given the generator was very low it took almost a day. 
i looked through the screen and pressed play, what i saw was the mall team, they were recording themselves as they progressed downwards, it appeared everything was fine, they filmed at five minute intervals, they seemed in good spirits, these people were about to start a new life away from the cold, underground in the shell of a shopping complex filled with products, they had every reason to smile.
then the last section, from right out of nowhere pure fear, screaming and hysteria, what was obviously panic as the camera moved all over the place, i slowed the image down and watched it in freeze frame, it just happened so suddenly, one second they are descending and all is well the next minute all hell breaks out and i can see someones mouthing something right at the camera, they are trying to say something but there is no sound on the recording.
i play it back a few times until the 'low battery' warning appears, i can't decipher the words so i let the tape run onwards.
the camera is passed along, upwards along the ladder until it's with the last in the chain, or now the first so instead of travelling down, it moves up and fast. for a fragment it points below, you can see the rungs but nothing else, the ladder disappears into a void no sign of the team. then we are on the surface, snow falling heavily, the viewfinder explodes with light, she clambers out, the camera points to the wolf pack, it's attached i can see her hands fumble as she links the camera to a collar and then the woman says something into it and then screams silently, she is thrown backwards down the hole head first, something wrapped around her neck and pulled her in so quickly even on freeze frame it's blurred and indistinguishable. it happens very fast and once again i slow down the freeze frame to see if i can translate her speech but the film is grainy and i can't really tell what the words are. it really don't matter at the end of the day, the fear in her eyes says it all.
so here i am, i figure i've lived most of my life, lifespans are short in the big freeze, i don't know how many humans are left, somewhere there would be but these where the only ones i knew and they vanished down the hole, curiosity is built into dna, any sentient life form exhibits curiosity, they also have the will to survive and live but the big freeze had even frozen that. all i had left was curiosity, the fact i may die was something i had come to terms with many years ago, living out here in the cold wilderness alone was much worse than death.


i step towards the hole and peer down into the darkness, i switch on the flashlight and follow the beam, nothing is revealed, a few snowdrops caught in it's cone, the black slippery ice covered metal of the ladder and the waiting abyss. 
everything i carry is designed to keep me alive, my suit is state of the art, my gloves allow a certain dexterity and my boots have a lightweight yet sturdy feel, i can be nimble and agile, yet secure. i have a belt filled with weaponry and a map of the mall embedded in my memory. it took me weeks to charge the batteries for the flash lights, and electronic charges on the claymores, everything was in good working order, i did my final check before i began my decent.
the black ice formed around the rungs, my gloves had a gorilla grip high friction layer that enabled them to act like velcro. 
as i climbed down i looked up at the circular shaft surprised to see the beasts peering down at me, their heads formed a ring around the entrance and then they began to howl.
i'd heard about individuals who descend into darkness, it seemed metaphorical, but for explorers it was part of the territory, this was mans fate, to bring light into darkness or have darkness engulf them. i took each step slowly, and when the entry point disappeared into a final dot of light i switched on my boot lights which illuminated from the sole outwards therefore i could see below. 
i calculated that it would about two hours of climbing until i saw the surface of the mall. legend had it i would exit in the food court but i couldn't be certain, it may be just as lightly as i emerge in the lingerie store. 
i focused my thoughts, about now was entering the zone where the attack had begun, i needed to maintain concentration and keep my eyes below. my breathing slowed and synced up with my movements, my eyes scanned the depths, occasionally i would stop moving and listen, it was silent except for me. 
half way through the zone i noticed the blood stains illuminated in shadows, lots of them. i got the terrors, it was involuntary, a shaking and rapid heartbeat, fear seized me, surrounded by nothing i couldn't take my hands away from the rungs, i couldn't let my foot follow their way down to the next rung below, i was in the grip of a terrible panic and my eyes started to water, my tears wouldn't freeze due to the saline but it left a burning sensation upon my cheeks, i tried controlled breathing and eventually the panic subsided. there was something awful about being here, alone, if i were trapped in space i would at least have the stars to look at, orientate me, but this was hell. the light beams didn't help, all they did was accentuate the depths where isolation meets the unknown future terror. i was tasting my first terror, it swarmed my body like a just like a wave washing over me and gradually after about twenty minutes it passed and i regained control and started a movement downwards.
it was laborious, meditative, finely focused concentration, everything else obliterated, all emotions, all thoughts, all identity, i was just a machine putting one step below the other, my body was a sequence of piston movements, even my breathing was machine like, there really was nothing left until i saw the ground. 
the sensation of two feet on a solid surface was almost delirious, i grabbed my gun and surveyed the area to see if it was clear, i noticed i was standing in a pool of blood, it was frozen. i carefully stepped out. 
there were some objects from the previous team, a backpack, some torn clothes, a hat and a book, i picked the book up. it was a bible, there were also two skulls, stripped of flesh, one connected to a spinal column.
i could see that there was a trail of blood leading away, i guess that i would be following that but first i needed to get my bearings.
it was not a food court at all, it was a department store, i remembered my parents taking me to one when i was a child, it was a vague memory, i couldn't trust if it was real, but i seemed to like the idea that once a long time ago i had parents.
i was definitely in the furniture section, there were sofas and reclining chairs all around me, there was a huge four poster bed that had caved in on itself and there were once magnificent rugs hanging from the ceiling, there were lamp stands and dining tables and chairs, most were water damaged and had icicles hanging from them like some form of gothic grotto. there was a lovely looking leather chair, with a footstool but as i got closer i saw it was covered in some sort of mould and then i realised that the mould was everywhere. that was why everything looked the same brown black colour. i moved away, unsettled by the sight, following the blood trail, yet determined. 
weaving out from the furniture section, past the kitchen applinces i imagined how luxurious all this stuff would be in my cave, but useless as well, it would take a kettle 48 hours to boil given the generator was so primitive, i smiled as i walked past the pizza makers but when i saw the carving knives i grabbed a few and shoved them in my back pack. 
the trail led out of the department store and into the main hallway of the mall, it was dark and gloomy and looked like a collection of shadows from a cave system. the fungal growth was everywhere, and i noticed if i kept shining light upon it it would change colour and go from dark brown to bright red, and much to my surprise it would move away. it was not the moulds avoidance of light that freaked me but the speed at which it reacted. this stuff moved fast, very fast.
in the corridor i could see the trail just went everywhere, it spread out in all directions, bits of bones, photographs of families and loved ones, wrist watches, jewellery, trinkets and teeth all scattered in the most random way. 
i found an area near a mobile phone shop where there was bench i could sit upon, i needed another smoke and a drink wouldn't go amiss. i opened my flask and took a hit of the whiskey, a quick internal glow spreading much required heat through my cold system, good medicine. i made a mental note to stop in the bottle shop and pick up a few bottles if they had any left. i had already made a mental map of where it was, not far from my current position. after a rest i figured i may as well go help myself to some goods, i had prepared a mental shopping list, alcohol being number one. 
i only drank the best whiskeys, they had to be the glens, nothing else. i had always been a snob when it came to drinking. it was a shame that the weed situation was dire, there was nothing left, just my  remnants that would be gone very soon, i had made that bag last about five years and now i had enough for maybe two more joints. one for when i get out of here and the other on my birthday although i had no idea when that may be, the sequence of time was remarkably difficult these days, the seasons were frozen in winter permanently, days and nights blended into one, the body just follows it's own rhythm. 
i wondered how the beasts where doing. i rechecked everything, the compass was working, lights, gun charges, the claymores, my suit was still charged, all good. i stuffed the flask back in the backpack and tried arranging the knives so that there was a bit more room. suddenly i became aware something was happening, i spun around, what the fuck was it, everything seemed in place, nothing had changed but it felt like something had. i felt a million eyes looking at me but there was nothing, still my instinct was good, i trusted it completely.
grabbing the bag i hurried along the passageway, past the card shop, past the dvd shop and past the shoe shop, there was the big supermarket, and attached to that would be the bottle shop. i strode towards the entrance.
i needed matches, nylon washing line, clothes pegs and soap, i needed tins of food and if possible some toothpaste, maybe grab a new toothbrush. i needed a lot more but i couldn't carry it back up, i could always come back next month i guess, design some sort of pulley system, but my optimistic plans were cut  short, the isles were all stripped of products however there were some things left that i could use, razors, the matches where there, some batteries, some oil. i stocked up on what i needed and headed for the bottle shop. there were two bottles of ardberg renaissance, i was overjoyed. this made it all worthwhile. i stuffed them into the pack and zipped up. i decided to return, the chances of finding any survivors was slim, the idea of staying down here any longer seemed crazy, i wasn't sure what i could do, it was a need to check there were no survivors, i figured i would just investigate and grab some supplies but the investigation was leading me to gruesome death and carnage, wild wolves maybe, some sort of animal had killed them it was obvious no one had survived, i didn't need to know anything else.
weighed down by my supplies i headed back, my legs were starting to ache, i was feeling the strain of extra weight. being down here in the miserable dark spooked me, i could feel a strange sensation inside my chest every time i took a breath. i checked the chronograph, i had already been down here for two hours, i needed to return to the surface, the two hours seemed four hours to long. i followed my way back past the bones, glancing at them as i moved past, something wasn't right, they had moved. the air was getting weird, i turned up the light source from my suit and moved into the department store. my mind running internal computations, what had changed down here, something must have moved the remains, something must be stalking me, it was psychological, they were trying to freak me out, they were doing a great job. i spun around, movement, the floor, the fucking mould, it moved again, i was certain, it rippled, it was rippling. 
i focused the beam onto one area and watched, the brown mould turned bright red and then started dispersing, it lifted off the floor in spores and swirled before me. i kept the beam on it watching mesmerised as it began to form a shape, a face first, and a body. it stood before me, in under three seconds a body had materialised bright plasma red and made from the spores, it was human shape but obviously non human. it towered over me, part of it's body seemed to swirl around my head, and i could see the billions of spores moving as though in a swarm. suddenly i panicked, thinking i may be breathing some of the spores into my lungs, perhaps that was why my chest felt so weird and then i started hearing voices. 'sentient life form, we inhabit host mainframe biological, chemical composition alien, primal matter, singular, host biomass centralised vessel nerve centre, control initiated.' and then i found myself walking with the strange shape before me. it had control of me, my body, planting it's thoughts in my mind, it had entered my body as i had feared, discovered my central nervous system and ingrained itself, communicating with me like a parasite. it was explaining in thought form and words, although the words were disjointed and originated from my own vocabulary, it explained that it required assistance, it reassured me that bore me no ill will, that it was peaceful and intelligent and did not understand itself, it had no memory of it's own history, it found itself alive and yet it had nothing except the will to live, the need to avoid bright lights and the requirements of a damp environment and organic matter, dead would do. as it engaged my brain it was able to self reflect using my terms of reference, it was indeed a new life form close to mould, yet it was highly intelligent and had recently gained consciousness. the organism had found itself everywhere, separate as individual and then came together, it could adopt any shape and form, appear in three states, gas, liquid and solid. 
i requested that it leave my lungs. it did, it even repaired some damage. the mould or fungus was now physically existing within the organic structure of my brain, interconnecting itself with my thoughts, i was part of a hive mind yet i was also independent. 
'what happened to the other ones like me?'
'the grotesque creature skin razor bladed, dark being, dark being, dark being took life left dense white matter structure. dark being bad, dark life form dangerous, dark life force violent...' and on it went, descriptions came from my vocabulary to explain what the mould had witnessed but it was indescribable my language had no term of reference, i just figured something very bad had killed the team. 
the mould was helping me, it entered into my legs and gave me strength, my body felt very strong, it analysed my bloodstream and cleaned it up, filtering and purifying freeing it from toxins, my body felt completely different, my eyes started to see clearly even though the lights from my flash lights were fading, my sense of smell could pick up things in the mall with extreme sensitivity, the good stuff, i knew where and how far away the perfume dept was, distinguishing each brand with it's unique scent and i knew the same about the rotting flesh we walked towards. there they were, up ahead, a pile of bodies crammed into the chemist shop. it was spilling out, there were so many, it was not just the team in here, hundreds of teams, squished up into a mass of remains, they must date back fifty years at least. i couldn't make out much detail as the bodies had congealed into one mass of frozen remains, bits of faces, some hair here and there, an eyeball, there were fingers, legs, bones but no real meat left, whatever had done this had taken most of the meat off the bodies.
i indicated to the fungus that the dark being was not just bad but dangerous, that i would track it and kill it if they helped me, the fungus agreed providing i would help it understand what it was. 
whatever this dark being was it was moving fast. i sniffed the air, and my tongue rolled out and picked up various vibrations. i could locate this monster, it was on the west wing, the far side of the mall. i emptied my bag and left the explosives in them, four claymores. i grabbed my knife and a gun and started running down the corridor  to the west. i was moving fast, faster than i have ever managed before, it was as though gravity was weakened, the fungus creatures or creature had adapted my physiology completely, my thinking was precise, no sluggish thoughts anymore, no fear, no aching weariness. i would find this thing and kill it, i was certain. while i interfaced with the fungus i knew it was a harmless life form, very intelligent in a different way from animals and humans, it was not a destructive force at all and needed me to destroy the monster, that was the trade off.
entering the west wing i could see how damaged the area was, shopfronts had been smashed and goods spilled out from their mouths, part of the roof had caved in and a huge frozen ice block blocked part of the hallway. it reminded me of the cavern's in the nordics, as i walked up to the block i could see it was an upended double decker bus, it was standing on it's front end, there were faces staring out from the windows, frozen in panic. i shone the flashlight up, the bus would have fallen through long ago, covered in snow and ice formed a huge pillar. some of the frozen faces looked so young, it made me sad they had met their fate this way. 
the monster was nearby, i could taste it's movement, feel it's heat, it was lurking. i planted the claymmore devices and tucked a knife into my belt. i never used knives but it seemed pointless to under utilise my weapons. 
the thing was fungal, it was exactly the same as the red stuff inhabiting me, but this was white. it came at me from snow around the bus block, just wrapped itself around me in a closed circle and started closing in. the gun fire cracked through the halls and echoed, the bullets went through the thing, right through the spore surface although the noise seemed to slightly repel the wall. leaping forwards i slashed at it with the knife, nothing, just tears that immediately healed themselves, then the red spores inside my body began to rise to the surface of the skin, there must have been billions of them as they left my body and formed a wall that met the monsters wall. stalemate. i felt my human condition return, it hurt. 
two mould beings, one sensitive to light the other sensitive to sound, one needs living flesh to feed from the other dead matter, one was almost shark like in its instinct, the other whale like, one i could interface with...i engaged with the red mould form, i had an idea. 
the interface would be risky but it may offer a solution, the red mould form would inhabit my body and allow the green mould form inside, using my brain i would act as a negotiator and see if we could find a way out from the problem.
the green mould entered, it was no different from the red physically, but in my head i found it difficult to distinguish so i made them speak in turn.
the red mould wanted food and silence. the humans brought noise and made food, it was natural for the red mould to silence the noise and use their remains. the green mould wanted dampness and dark and rotting dead remains. i could see a solution forming but it would mean finding a suitable supply, perhaps the dead could be thrown down into the hole, first the green mould would feed and grow then the red, the two mould forms seemed in agreement and i was certain word would spread that all the dead could be disposed off down the hole, almost like an offering, a sacrifice.
the surface was filled with dead, mostly frozen and buried but they were there, only a handful of creatures and humans survived the big freeze. it was not a perfect solution but it would do for the moment. 
i deactivated the claymores and headed back for the hole, i had suggested that the red mould stay in the centre of the mall while the green have the whole west wing, if they ever felt like cohabitation they should try it, diversity is healthy i informed them. they were part of the same thing, connected despite their differences.
on the way back the red mould enquired as to what it was, it needed an identity and meaning. how had it come into to being and why did it existed, it had trawled my mind and was baffled by the idea of a god and various philosophies embedded in the architecture of my thoughts. i explained the philosophy of humans was about answering these questions and it was understood most other lifeforms on earth don't have a line of enquiry, that humans had no answers and that it was all a mystery, even after thousands of years of contemplation. i showed it the two schools of thought, one science the other intelligent design, i also showed how the two converged, perhaps the designer uses evolution so we can adapt on our own, nothing would surprise me, every life force has to find its own answer, i said. i could feel the mould entities trawl through my neuro-theological domains and i could almost intuit it's responses.
the red mould seemed to like the idea of an intelligent designer,  the green liked the science, rational, logical and evolutionary survival seemed to fit its nature, it was strange that such brutality, the loss of the team and all the people had ended in a philosophical discussion about the nature of life with their killer. after thanking me they separated and left my body, i gathered my stuff, and headed towards the ladder.
climbing out the darkness revealed a pinprick of light that grew and grew until i was engulfed with its illumination and the peering heads of the pack. 

when the drug squad raid you, you better be clean or protected, fate was smiling down upon me, i was immediately licked to death by the dogs and recognised one of the officers as someone i know, i made some tea and we watched the end of south park talking about old times when i worked at youth refuges and drug and alcohol centres. the two officers said they were tipped off anonymously that they would find drugs on the premises, although i knew exactly what cowardly spirit was behind this. 
i saw it coming, i'm extremely intuitive, it took longer than i expected and ironically it resulted in a pleasant evening although i rather it be under different circumstance. 
i apologised to the drug squad, wasting time, explaining that the person that had done this was a sad unhappy individual with a 'revenge' complex because she can't take any responsibility for any of her own destructive actions and personal misery. 
i gave them the details of her court case that she failed to turn up to and offered my home for inspection and even a blood test, if need be. 
they knew they were barking up the wrong tree, these guys have better things to do than chase a guy like me.
i thought about the conversation we had once where 'am a liar' confessed her soulmate was bert newtons son matthew who happened to be in the news recently. i don't know much about the man, apparently he beat up his girlfriend and a taxi driver, he had his demons, i guess they were the same as hers, it explains the affinity, the romantic delusion of damaged individuals, misery needs company, like attracts like, validation and all that jazz.
anyways everything's okay, the dumb actions of a spiteful little unimaginative heiress backfired yet again. her soap operatic brain must have short circuited on vodka and the moronic company she keeps.
i thank my protectors and angels, my guardians and the great spirit of the universe. 
i give gratitude to the spirits that care for me and the friends i have.
and for you my divine enemy, my inverted friend, my soul partner and eternal nemesis, i have pity, not really for you anymore because even compassion has limits, but for your child who deserves much better than your dramatic obsession with revenge. let me offer you some free advice, the best revenge is a life lived well. 
ironically that's all i ever wanted for you. 
let it go.

described as,


 'the fall (english band) only much more funkier' 


'a little bit scary and then lovely soft landing'


'dance music for the mind'


'eccentric space rock for the mind'


'a soundtrack for the mayan groover'


'contemporary goth'


'quirky'


'very interesting'


'the thinking woman's trans dimensional pop group' 
(we can include men in this)




'an occult journey'


'a concept album for the age'


'you can't really pass 2012 without hearing this'


the new cd player from 'the deep fix'


available now just send an e mail to


thedeepfix@thedeepfix.com 


and find out how you can get a copy 


very limited number available now.


don't pass 2012 without a listen.

watching q and a, richard dawkins vs the catholic bishop george pell, my expectations were low, i mean one is a fat old catholic who can't accept homosexuals as equals, the other is a fundamentalist rationalist. while i concede dawkins is very intelligent and comes across much smarter than anything pell seemed to be able to throw out, he really seemed to have a myopic understanding of reality including science, in exactly the same way pell is trapped. it was like watching two mirrors standing face to face. we all hoped to see some new refreshing image but instead what we get is an inversion, reflections of the same thing.
the q and a team would have been much better if they left the bishop out and brought in people from other religions, a mystic, a hindu, a kabbalist, a voodoo high priest of love, i just think when you throw catholicism to the rationalistic science of logic your pretty much going to have a winner and a loser.
pell is a tired infant, his mind is weak and sluggish, he was vague and had not got the experience to push anyone's idea of god let alone his own. he couldn't answer questions, dawkins didn't need to work hard, it was like watching a train wreck as religion/spirituality/mysticism all slipped off the tracks and exploded in dawkin's shadow.
pell had a totally ridiculous idea of the old testament, and misrepresented it, when he spoke about science he failed to use it to support his argument scientifically, instead giving us his personal stories of his travels and experiences with little children who asked him questions. he believed in heaven and hell and that the bread becomes the body of christ quite literally, which would indicate some sort of cannibalistic ideal behind catholicism that no one seemed to pick on. if there was one winner on the show it was tony james who held his own ground very well and asked the best questions, often catching pell out in his hypocrisy. now i like a good argument about religion and science but not at the expense of one another, scientists have always had a religious facet to them, often using mysticism as a source for their inspiration, the two cannot be separated and the best example of this is buddhism although there are many more.
i'd like to see something a little more challenging, perhaps dawkins needs to leave his mind for a while, use some lsd or magic mushrooms, experience ayahuscia, drink some mescaline, then he can come back and discuss these experiences. it would be foolish for him not to do this as a scientist, for the brain is what the scientist uses to measure results, and the brain has it's limits unless it can be circumnavigated to investigate other dimensions and intelligences. 
i bet richard dawkins would scoff at the idea a plant can have an intelligence that is far superior to human, because he has no experience of engagement outside his brain. 
any intelligent designer would allow it's creation room to evolve. 
when they spoke about what came before the big bang, the idea of nothing arrives, both completely missed the kabbalistic points here, something which i think would have swung the argument slightly in favour of a belief in god, however you wish to define it.
actually if i was tony james i would have given both my guests mescaline out in the desert in private away from cameras, and then come back and interviewed them about it, but of course neither of them are brave enough to do this, because it means leaving their fixed points of reference behind, and where would either of them be without those. pell may actually do somethings worthy of god, and dawkins may actually escape his prison.

it's perfect, waves the length of half the beach, with that ever decreasing straight line, the curve of a fractal, to spiral universe in liquid geometry. i'm there catching these waves as they roll in, one after another, water temperature is less than the day before, maybe one degree. there's clarity to the precision, these waves are not chaotic. 
let me bring you to my theory of surfing. modern quantum physics indicates everything is a particle and a wave, everything, only we can only visually perceive it as one of these. however surfing is the only act in the universe i know where you can experience the true nature of reality, duality ceases to exist and the surfer is particle and wave. the mind undergoes a transformation, the zone can be a range of things but for me it is obliteration of the self. i am in the universe, off the universe, not separate, not captain mission, not a man, not a human, not a being imprisoned by skin. i am truly free. however it has taken a form of yoga to get me there, mental gymnastics, preparation and some breathing, i've explored this zone very well. i've created visualisations based around the charkras, a form of gnosis, the psychic centre opened.
in this space time ceases, the laws of the universe reduce to one thing, a fleeting perfection.
these waves need not be monsters, force comes in many forms and the idea of a wall off water falls into a different type of concept, what is needed are waves that have power and move fast. i've surfed in huge waves and sometimes they are no good. you have to find the wave size that is compatible with your mind, i guess everyone is different and therefore unique but i don't think big wave riding is conducive to the zone i describe. it's a whole different ball game.
so out there three hours pass like no time, the sky is perfect blue, the water clear and clean, i'm in a remote spot, away from the surfboard riders, away from life guards, away from tourists, children and the holiday crowds, this is just me and the sea. our appointment was made and we both upheld our part of the deal. 
some of these waves carry me all the way into the shore, usually i can feel when to turn around, jump off and swim out for the next one. it's not something that i think about, it's auto pilot, second nature. the ocean knows, but it can change fast, go from bliss to fear in the blink of an eye, you have to attune yourself to the ways of oceans, the same way you would a girl you love. and here is the thing, the lovely bit of ancient knowledge the ocean lets you in on, it whispers to you as you're in your zone, it says in it's watery wisdom world weary way, 'just because your on the land don't mean you have to stop riding the waves' and old captain mission knows this, in his old broken bones, in his damaged brain, in his fractal mind, in his purple blood, and in his big old beating but not beaten heart.

slow time, the synapses implode, crystal methodology saturated the landscape, wild populations turn towards satellite dishes and random information fallout. mobile phones melt, polyunsaturated radiation burns through the thin dermis of life, x rays reveal the skeleton  populations, computer chips cook, civilisation takes a detour down a different path. a research assistant crunches numbers in an underground lab, five years is optimistic. she runs down to the bureau, a decrepit department fuelled by amphetamines and thick black coffee boiled on the surface by solar flares.
the committee look at the numbers, these things never lie, they just bend and distort your mind. 'what does it mean?' a young intern asked, she's lost the lower half of her body, it's grafted onto an anti gravity device, she controls with her fingers.
'it means that the doomsday clock needs to be reset.'
another man, old and germanic with a dr. strangelove stutter whispers, 'one second to midnight.'
'no professor we have some time left.'
'time to say goodbye.'
'maybe.'
they are silent, traversing their inner selves, finding some sort of acceptance. these are hardened men, the last of their kind, they have lost everything and have known the outcome could be this. they had worked very hard for the last few years attempting to prevent the inevitable ad they had failed.
the president spoke, we must make an announcement, people should know. they can prepare.'
everyone agreed.
the intern floated in front of the screen. her mind had interfaced with the numbers, she was processing faster than the computers, it was her gift. she could see qualities within the data, pictures, patterns and information. the quantity seemed irrelevant, for her numbers offered language, a code if you like. she understood the code, it was the language of the universe, and as she interfaced she smiled for instead of seeing the end, she discovered hope.
'wait, i believe you have all made a mistake.'
expectation filled the room, it sat there with its own weight.
'these figures are based on atmospheric levels following a non interventionist flow, if surface levels continue within five years all life will be unsustainable. correct?'
everyone nodded.
'the problem is we have started in the wrong place, we started crunching numbers after the event. if we start before the event we get a different type of curve,' she fiddled with the controls on the keyboard and the graph morphed from a u shape to an n, see the numbers invert, thus, we have an escape route.'
there was a collective gasp, the president gasped,'how...?'
the intern said, you looked at the flow of having a linear direction, a beginning middle and end, 1,2,3, but there was no beginning, no middle and no end, only a sequence of one to another, times arrow has to flow in one direction for us to experience an enthalpy.'
'what do mean by that?'
enthalpy is the opposite of entropy. i suspect that it started with the big bang, the expansion of the universe outwards, the birth of time. time is only now, we are at the face of the big bang, each moment is now. yet the numbers show we have come to the end if we look at them from that perspective, a human one. but the numbers are not sentient, therefore they have no perspective, they are just representations, co ordinates, what they show us is the pattern, and the pattern i see is an inverted one.'
it was the presidents turn to ask, 'what does that mean?'
'it means time will stop at a point in the very near future and then it will restart but in a contraction..'
'you mean flow backwards..?'
'exactly.'
'but how will that effect us, we will be dead.'
'yes that's very possible but we will also be the first to return to life once the cooling down starts, the atmosphere returns, our ashes will concentrate together, form substance, organs will restart, we will in effect be alive but as we died, starting life, living in a reverse time flow, all creation drawn by the gravity of the opposite of the big bang.'
'the crunch'
'the big crunch.'
'it sounds like a fate worse than death, i think i rather die.'
'the numbers never lie and as for death and life...i am afraid you have no choice.'
silence filled the chamber. 

the future was not an option, curiosity killed me before i even knew it, time looped around me like a paradox node dragging me to a fatality worse that rebirth. 
the hungary games, a herd of wild children killing one another for entertainment, on big screens with holly wooden superstars and immaculate style of the plastic age, disposable soundtracks and the inevitability of sequels and spin offs, tee shirts and soft drink. i smile with my cynical grin and my amnesty. buddy you don't need the big screen for this entertainment, take it down to nigeria where it's been happening for years, somalia had their hunger game to. some guy in californication had a meltdown a few weeks ago over his you tube video being popular. he was trying to raise awareness. the thing went nuts, receiving so much attention it took him by surprise and i guess he imploded. happens to us all but the meltdown gets more attention than the story. goes viral, soon everyone knows about it but the actual fact children kill other children gets washed out in the fabric of information, just another you tube video, just some kind of disposable entertainment. dr. susan greenwood says, our brains are changing as internet technology and computers infiltrate our minds, no longer do children have the conceptual frame work to comprehend consequence, soon downtown london, chicago, sydney will be indistinguishable from mogadishu and abuja, the streets may be cleaner and lined with designer label stores but the wild boys and girls will be out at night time, following the pack mentality, unable to see a big picture, unable to see causality at work. what do we do with them then, put them i the arena and make it entertainment. 
at the same time, technology traps us it also frees us, cuts us from all the limits of nature. this is where we get all god like, i can dig it, i don't mind being a god, i've never been happy about certain fundamental design flaws. the body is far to fragile, it can't stay underwater, or fly, it needs 360 vision and chameleon skin. maybe a radar option, bat man. but i like humanities ingenuity, it's rare and you don't see it much but it's there, and no matter how bad things get, human beings will survive unless we kill them first. 

somethings flips back from the past, richard alcroft, the verve blasts from some place far away, palm beach pool, aqua blue day, surf rolling in at the south end, some japanese tourists watch a rider wipe out, somewhere on the shore two american girls laugh, they skim along holding hands. i jump over the wall and head into the blue. behind me lays the outskirts of the northern beaches, across the water is the central coast, it's flickering in light and water. 
out n surf you get the brain sorted, it reformats the hard drive, washes away bad energy that clings, helps sort out what's what. i've always found this the best meditation, it works for me, always brings you back to what's important.
breathing, which way is up and are my pants still on.

DAVID BOWIE - NOTHING TO BE DESIRED

when knowledge marred by doubt and error disappears in true awareness clear and pure, one thus established clearly in self being, free from falsehood, has crossed over to the further shore of the river of knowledge.


what are they on about here?
firstly the quote is a guide indicating a journey, implying movement from one state to another. we can say one state is marred with doubt and error which could be defined as false reality, the other free from falsehood therefore the domain of clarity and truth.
secondly i guess they are saying there is a destination, that river of knowledge. it's the crossing that is tricky, or is it?


the extreme philosophies mapped the path, so does the middle way, only it's a long road. shortcuts are psychedelics, magick and trauma but there is risk attached to these, and a high fail rate, often these paths allow us knowledge of the other side, that there is an ultimate truth but the hard path is staying within that knowledge and applying it. that's possibly the river.

yeah yeah, back in the chop, splashing around, catching a few waves, all good, i'm spilling out everywhere as my watery nature expands into land, evolution in a loop, i came out from the ocean only to return again and again. 
there's an hour missing from the day, apparently they did something to the clocks, i never really understand it, some smart bureaucrat in the days of old thought it could save light, but it never felt natural having clocks anyway, stealing time, all that restriction to contain your mind in. bad for your health, ages you i think. i never wear watches or look at clocks, it's pointless, you just gotta follow your inner clock, that's the calendar those cheeky mayans had that they never really told anyone about, the inner clock, each persons being unique. wake up to your intuition, synchronise it with the universe and you have eight division sky place.
my paranoia and flirtation into conspiracy theory has led me to believe that all the worlds governments know something, we don't. it concerns niribu, watch the skies.

big waves, rolling in, i'm suspended in the deepest blue as they pass over my head, my body dives down under them, it's the smaller ones with the power i like, but every now and then some monster wave rolls in. a few swimmers share a look of horror, these are monsters, two meters plus, that's big for a body surfer like me. some of us make it, we surface out the other side, those that don't are thrown back, washed up along the shore, dumped down by force and power crushing and twisting their flesh into pulp. i skim the next wave, it's fast and furious, swerving through a few bodies, i catch glimpses of the shore as i am propelled through space, i use my had to bring me around before the wave breaks. i spin around and swim out again. i am alive, you ever felt less than alive, the surf will sort you out, you feel defeated every now and then, you feel you need a shot of life force, get thy body in the surf. this is healing on a grand scale, it's a vitamin shot mainlined into the soul, it's a spiritual fix for the broken, seriously, surfing is where it's at, you don't need to be good at it, you don't even need any paraphernalia, just an affinity for some sort of zen experience, leave the body, leave the mind, leave the boundaries and space and time, ride the wave into the sun. 
later i wander through consumer land and find breaking bad series four, a show i adore, so that's me for the weekend, breaking bad.

surfing palm beach, i'm feeling great, the waves are big with velocity, they crash down hard so at the end of the ride you gotta get off the wave lest it throw you onto the sand. it's all feel, you ride that wave until you just feel the bank coming up to meet you and then you gotta spin away from the wave. i'm perfecting this, because one wipe out is enough. 

the day is gorgeous, a woman asks me how i am.

what more can a man ask for i say, this is as good as it gets. 

she swims up to me, it's my sons old teacher mrs. b. she's retired and enjoying a day at the beach. i hear about how she thought jake was an exceptional child, she says he was one in a million and out of all the children she taught he stands out the most. this doesn't surprise me as i know it, jakobs a special kind of spirit, he's got that thing, jesus had it i guess, people just love him, he's very smart and witty but gentle to, yet he has incredible strength and wisdom. i am being objective here, he had it as a baby, it's taken lifetimes but when he arrived i watched and saw it in his eyes straight away.

i tell mrs. b. where he is, what he's doing, she's really happy and swims of. i'm really happy to because this is what i love about being in the surf, magick happens in there, probability lays dormant and incubating and sometimes it just thrusts a minor miracle upon you and a chance meeting like this occurs. 

once at palm beach i was surfing, i went right out by the lighthouse, very remote and sat there waiting for waves, this was when i had a board, now i just fin surf. i'm bobbing up and down and this guy paddles over, he asks me if a wave will come.  hear he has an english accent, 'yeah i say, just wait a while, they usually come in sets.' 

so we wait together and i strike up a conversation, through which we discover that he once worked on my parents house, building an extension to their bathroom, and one day i rang from sydney and he answered the phone. he was on holiday here for a while and just by chance connected with me in the surf.

see that's the kind of stuff that happens to me out there, when your a particle and a wave.

those who, learning to forget completely all objective knowledge, turn inward firmly and see clearly the truth, abide serene. those who try to recall forgotten things pine bewildered, fretting over false phenomena.


all minds perceive through a filter of memetic systems and prejudices, the objective reality is impossible because our minds cannot physically be completely objective therefore it is only by abandoning such an illusion and surrendering to the idea that ones own experience of truth is an illusion as well, the path towards liberation can begin. the false phenomena of identity, controlling memes, dna preconditions will act like ink in clear clean water, contaminating the result of the awakening and leaving us confused by reality. serenity lays in acceptance of this fact.


to put this into practise one must abandon investment in all constructs and memes except love for the universe and everything within it.

underwater moonlight, i wandered the ocean line, sparkles like angels on the head of a pin, a fine mist from a vast source i saw the polar opposite, obsidian negative, refraction on the eye. point counter point, in the rules of the game rules are abandoned. a gentle breeze from the south east, the dark shadow of the headland in the distance, strange parabola as light finds itself suspended in air from cars as they spin around the single bendy road south. 

dusk speeds up, fast time forwards, our heads are in the stars, i'm using an mobile application to navigate the constellations, my friend is skipping along side me like a sea sprite on vacation. she's telling me about her golden years in the ballet, touring the stages of the big cities, dined and wined by the rich powerful folks, driving in long cars and staying in classy hotels. she's nostalgic and it's making me feel slightly strange, is there an opposite word for nostalgia?
nostalgia looks backwards fondly so the opposite would be looking forwards unfavourably. there is no single word i can think of that defines this but if there was it would be pre-stalga or pro. 
just like the opposite of paranoia is pronoia. 
so we walk in night space, her talking me, listening with one ear, i catch sight of the splash of something, a diver emerges from the ocean, starts walking out right towards us, it's bizarre. he's carrying a speargun and wearing a mask, which he pulls from his face and reveals his sex. a woman, short black hair, gleaming teeth and twinkling eyes, she looks pretty good in a wet wet suit as she strides right up to my friend and shows her the big fish she has in her other hand, she says nothing but just smiles and then walks off. meanwhile in my mind i'm expecting the worse, thinking the man was going to cause trouble, start hassling me like a residual hang over from my western australian bbq experience. the opposite of nostalgia. 

the seventh time i was born, thrown into the oddessy of fools, amongst the bards and poets, amongst the spirit dwellers, hark, the sound of bells ringing, chimes travelling through the thick night, hark, the carrion doth fly in the straightest of lines, from cradle to grave, from fallen to saved, from area 51 to section number 9. like little children, like a teenage ghost, just like the average adult and the middle aged man, only he's much older now, ancient and wise, holding court with the kings and knaves, vermilion skies and emerald isles, you sail into my harbour, travelling blind, no navigation no star to guide, here i am, here i am, all of me. the glittering prize, the last one standing, the simple mind. occasional whisper, words of sound, waves in the sky, ripples on water, you must have closed the space between with that smile, a circuit breaker and joker and faker but you made me grin and howl with laughter, and now i see just what your after. one more life time won't buy you time, it's the sand in the hourglass, it's running out. it's the great equaliser, no one escapes, do or die, win or lose, the devils in drag as it slips away.  

surrealist woman blues by steve kilbey

secular tuesday, drinking milk shakes, gazing at clouds, new ideas float through the abstract skies, mayan calendar blues and reds streak the horizon in a fishbowl soup of plasma static. the star people return, they weave around us invisible, they peer into our hearts and minds, like wandering angels, they gaze into the eye's of the maidens and men, they sometimes steal a memory or to, just to share around for the voyage home.
i saw my first star person when i was 3 months, i knew immediately as they hovered above me, i smiled and babbled away and they did the same. i felt happy with my encounters, they returned every now and then, through my childhood and left when i was about 12, taking with them my memory. often i still gazed up at stars, uncertain why, compulsion beckoned, unconscious attraction gravitational pull, some kind of mystery. 
van had his astral weeks i had astral years, the waterboys had their sea, i had my ocean, simple minds had life in a day, i had eternity. 
laster when i passed through the gates aflame, the star people returned my memory, they implanted me with a mission, for a moment i felt like jesus would have felt when he realised who his father was, or perhaps the moment siddhartha gautma sat under a pipal tree and worked it all out in that divine flash, the mind is the problem old chap, nothing else, so just wake up. 
anyway's i woke and grabbed my waking stick, i'd picked it up in africa when i was travelling around with the masai jumping folks who seemed to have springs in their legs, a young tall ebony skinned youth called jason gave me his stick, he said carry it well and use it often. it was quite a big thing, intimidating and i used it as often for many years after.
there was a little commotion, the possums in the roof at mission control were screeching and running around, the cats were meowing, bats were shrieking and pan was pacing up on the balcony. i wandered outside and looked up at the full moon and stars. now in my iphone i often use an application called skyview, which is a 3d map of the night sky, indicating everything that you point it at, including stars, planets, constellations and stars and satellites, i have become very familiar with the orbit of the international space station, 30 people floating around us as we squabble and bicker, there's even a robot up there. i'm scanning the night skies when a shimmering form appears before me, closely followed by another behind me, they just seem to walk out of nowhere and they smile at me and one even winks. the star people return my memories and i loose any anxiety. they tell me about the next stages, they offer me abundance of happiness and love, and they say in their strange telepathic way, share it well amongst your people. so i give it away, here now, for free, come get all you need, i have plenty, compassion, love, affection, it's pouring out of me like a waterfall, like a volcanic explosion, the star people have blessed us all.
when i awake, the sea of tranquility has swallowed me up like a huge whale, the canyons of mars are embedded inside my cortex, everything is there, outside my head, accessed by no mind, all the answers lay in the empty spaces between, the dark matter is filled with little potentials, connected by invisible neurones. everything connects up, there can be no separation, says the walrus. 

sydney, northern beaches, ohh i am an old recluse, as much as i love travelling around, home is where i like to be, swinging in my trusty hammock with my reliable hound beside me, drinking a sicilian latte and going for a surf. surrounded by my books and music, playing simple minds now, old stuff sounds great, old derek forbes, almost as good as that kilbey chap. well i listened to the radio stream of the deep fix, nice man that dj tim chap said we were really quirky and interesting like the fall but funky, he said he liked the album, those were very affirming words for a uninspired musician to hear, kinda made me think about writing more music. something very different this time, more organic and loose, more space, focus on my singing a bit, apparently i can sing although i don't really know if i'd go that far. 

the western lands, last few days, the desert city with it's pristine surfing beaches, beautiful women, friendly city folk, hostile suburbs, the art museum and streets of wide open spaces, the strange big homes built like fortresses and protected by huge walls, who are they keeping out or in, the bright glare of sunlight that cuts your skin, the whisk of clouds, the aboriginal slow death, the miners, those that ride on the back of a boom, you can taste the cash, the people snort it like cocaine, it's make or break time, everyones here for the money. girls tell me how they are gonna cash up, men tell me how they cashed up while they drink away their fortunes, children are born into the chase. 
the western lands where murder is part of the landscape, it's a harsh place, no quarter taken, mercy is the currency i would choose. the beaches are immense, the indian ocean warm and exotic, i love the indian ocean best of all, despite the sharks, i like the feel of it, let it wash upon me, over and through. i catch a few waves. drop a few cds of into freo fm, wander around one last time, coffee and croissant in a very nice french type place, i try on a suit, i'm to fat, that hurts, then i wander into a book shop and fritter away an hour gazing at the walls and walls of art books. they play an early peter gabriel track, from 2, i recognise it, great drum tracks, i listen and travel along a strange time line of memory. peter gabrial and tom robinson in concert, peter sung 2468 motorway and tom sung solsbury hill, the memory washes over me like one of those indian ocean waves and i fall back to the present. got a plane to catch, i puff on a spliff and catch the train. the transport system in perth is perfect, clean and runs on time, frequent, free through the night, it's an example of good thinking and planning. 
i stick my head in kraken, i'm a third of the way through, it's brilliant.

in the western lands, the real outback lays in wait, the mystical landscape of the dreamtime, the closing of the mists, avalon is lost to the english as the dreaming fades thanks to a diet of various toxic imports, namely alcohol or as my outback hosts call it 'grog' and the less sophisticated 'piss.'
i spend my time defending my choice not to drink it, i am considered the strange english man, who is to polite, to quiet, as here in the suburbs i attend a bbq, where poor slaughtered animals are eaten by drunk and obnoxious fools who brutalise their wives and women folk and persecute my good self for retaining my basic principle of abstinence from alcohol and meat eating for pleasure. i am taunted endlessly, they throw darts at me, attempt to strike me with a huge stick, they talk about abandoning me in the desert and then my worst fear dumping me in the shark infested ocean. i smirk it away and in false bravado mention i will take as many down with me as possible. they don't seem to care, their beer and vodkas have made them loose all humanity. i hate this but i stand my ground, they goad me into playing stupid games, pool and darts, amazingly i am very good at both and win thanks to some sort of divine intervention.
the girls join in, like little piranha fish around a pack of sharks, these girls stick by their men, admirable and pathetic. a quick backhanded slap and i guess the defeated hearts of suburban housewives are entrenched in these relationships. i hate this, frittering time away with zombies, trying to find a way to keep the peace until i can get away. one by one the vodka pulls them under, the beer pickles them, thinking becomes slow and sluggish, the sentences can't hold, words become garbled nonsense and then i move in for the kill, striking while the iron is hot, i roll up a big fat spliff and smoke it while they shut down neuron after neuron, popping out like the perth lights once popped on for nasa, now in some strange fated time loop my light comes on.
fuck you moronic drinkers and abusers of women, fuck you all you selfish bogon pricks.

freo, funky bookshop cafe land, everyone wanders around looking like they are far to cool for byron bay, this is the kind of place i like, lot's of bookshops, art everywhere, young energy pervades, the indian ocean with it's magnificent greenish tinge lapping white pristine beaches, where the sand is fine and baked dry. everyone in perth looks good, the girls are beautiful and friendly, there's an english population here i can't fathom, accents everywhere, all dialects.
i'm glad to be out of sydney, to be honest i needed a change, a shake up, wandering around with my back pain, calling into the radio stations, dropping off my tunes, getting some feedback, listen out on the fm radio, they are playing our song. for some reason 'occult diary 2' is getting airplay. i would have thought 'hell would be the one everyone would want blasting out their radio but what do i know, they are all good songs.
well a couple of days surfing and then it's back to sydney, i think i will be ready, more focused when i return, this break away had helped my reformat my hard drive.
i had a nice experience in a little second hand bookshop, i find a book i have been searching for for years, simon ings, 'the weight of numbers' and here it is for $5. the lady say's this happens a lot in this little book shop, i like it, it's small and quaint and interesting.
i finish reading, 'the rook' a sort of paranormal fantasy, it's clever and well written but it's not the bees knees.
i finish reading neil cross, 'luther, the calling,' it's a gripping dark detective novel, and john luther is my kinda guy, he's a black english dude, who loves david bowie, fave album is low, he don't talk much, just reads and solves cases.
now i'm going to read 'kraken' china melvilles book which i meant to read two years ago but never got around to.
that's me, over and out.

strange circumstances have drawn me here, into the western lands. the air here is dry, harsh and the soil red, there's no water here, it's a desert city on the ocean, white sand beaches hot water, sharks everywhere, i'm surfing with my eyes open and one looking over my shoulder. it's not uncommon to be attacked here.

in the suburbs of freeo i feel very boho, smoking my substances, in the bookshops and cafes, chatting with the exotic girls, so lovely to see a really multicultural city at work here, all the skins mixed and matched but some places, out in the suburbs have that south la feel, sirens weave through the nights on a layer of rap music through boom boxes, drug deals, kids running wild, there's an edge on the outer limits. 

but the beaches rule, white sands, blue skies, no clouds just expanse. it's frontier town, deadwood by the sea, in the desert. 

in the city center i find an internet cafe, file a quick report, just saw 'john carter of mars' i liked it, i read those books when i was a kid, took me back.
 

what is the mark of learning? learning all that knowledge is emptiness and ignorance, the true knowledge is the search for the knower.


one cannot know everything, information is endless, our minds and brains are limited and knowledge of facts are infinite. it's a futile attempt to understand the universe through out brains because the brain is a trap when it comes to knowledge, it is the impostor, the domain of memes and ego and therefore all information is filtered and distorted. the true quest for knowledge comes through self discovery, the inwards journey, the reflective self, the quote says 'search for the knower.'
how do we do this?
i guess by stripping away the maya of ourselves until there is only the truth left. strip away each meme that once defined you, each pattern we are locked into, each system that we think defines us. 

food that we eat these days have 3 times less nutrition than they did in ye olde days, even fresh foods as they are grown on farms that do not let the trees root systems reach deep down and never let the tree grow high as it should.
the food industry is rife with short cuts, which is why organics is the only way to eat.
10% of us come from our parents dna, the rest is just a collection of bacteria and parasites living in our guts. if we have the right bacteria we can digest well and be slim, if not we are fat. it don't matter what we do.
if i was pm the first thing i would do is make sure people had access to the right food, all processed foods would be banned. everyone would be educated on how to look after their diets, and encouraged to do so, for food is medicine. every sick person would see a nutritionalist before a dr. 
it's disgusting that people have not got nutrition in this day and age.
the next thing that would go would be the drug companies, fuck them and their evil industry. from now on medication would come from nature and i'd start with legalising marijuana. 

sydney rainfall, grey skull castle and the masters of doom eat their coco pops. i'm fine, dealing with strange police inquiries, an enemy has conspired but the plan is falling apart, i am protected by various charms and spells, the poor enemy is subjected to annihilation and corruption while i flick through a newspaper and monitor the radars, various bleeps and glitches avoided like a primitive game of space invaders. 

pure static overkill, the space between encounters i stumble into nude town for coffee with some pirates and buccaneers but i have a wound that needs attention, so i slip away while they engage in rum and seven kinds of debauchery. 

home for pizza and some internal combustion, i burn away the pain with fire voodoo, fall into a steady stream of rem and flickering echos of tomorrow call me. various text messages penetrate, updated data streams, the affections of mysterious maidens i met along the way but i'm in the dark, my hand on auto pilot reaches out for the phone, somewhere it's close but veiled in darkness, sleep drowns me and in the morning i see the stream of missed calls and messages. 

just saw game of thrones on dvd, wow, it's amazing, like really brilliant. what an incredible story. i've seen the books around but have never read them as i am not that much of a fantasy reader. george r r martin has written an epic that redefines all the rules, it's transposed by hbo onto the small screen and they have done a great job in series one. 
the characters are so rich and complex, their narratives unpredictable and often shocking and it's a tale told from multiple viewpoints. i watched the story riveted to the screen as the political intricacies weaved their way to their conclusions. if you have $30 hanging around, go out and buy a copy, it's worth it. 
i think the best way to watch it is after each episode read the chapters that match them, this way you get the complete richness of the novel plus the magnificent way it has crossed the printed medium to the screen.

low