when i was 17 i hitch- hiked down from san francisco to mexico city, at tijuana which back then was a shack town, with a dirty bus station and some wayward gringo's like myself hanging out looking for cheap weed and an adventure into the unknown. everyone back in the city told me not to go, they said it was very dangerous, i never saw much danger there yet it was all around me according to 'el narco' ioan grillo's brilliant journalistic examination of the mexican drug wars.
i met a lot of mexican people, mostly poor farmers, we shared breakfasts in run down kitchens in the middle of desert towns, eggs usually tortilla and some milky drink with honey, they offered me places to stay and gifts, leather bags, knives, scarves, i was slightly apprehensive and nervous but it was because my western mind thought these people may slit my throat while i sleep and steal my passport. my head was filled with anxiety but all my american fear i held towards the southern land mass of old mexico seemed to evaporate as i spent time with these people who showed me nothing but generosity and hospitality. 
all i wanted to do was find peyote and introduce myself to quetzalcoatl and xochiquetzal, i was a teenager after all, just read castaneda, anyway wandering around the mountains was quite a lovely serene experience, quite spectacular and there were traces of aztec civilisation to be found, pyramids and rock pictograms and a burial ground that i instinctively knew to avoid, this was untouched terrain off the beaten track, no one wanted to come here, no one ever came, eco tourism had not even been invented.
later when i went to mexico city i felt disorientated by the straight lines of man, big volume buildings and a subway system that was one of the cleanest i'd ever travelled in, i was disorientated by the art museum which held the best art i have ever seen, massive canvas, bright colours and wide staircases, i was disorientated by the traffic and the people swarm, the noise, the pollution above ground that never met the pristine underground, the sheer volume of people moving through and the cosmopolitan culture. i never saw the stuff ioan writes about but it was there being played out under my nose. how sad that a country with so much to offer, so much beauty should be at war with itself. ioan says it started with columbians moving into the business, flooding the relatively peaceful marijuana market with cocaine and thus bringing a brutality and horror. the situation went from bad to worse when the politicians started using the drug wars as an election campaign tool, and a way to control the left wingers who wanted equitable terms and a reasonable deal from the government, cheap housing, health and amenities and when the ever growing cartels (which was an invented term thought up by the media) started hiring the military to do their dirty work. they also hired columbian death squads, and these squads did not just kill the oppositions men, it killed their whole family. these squads did not just use assassination, they used the tactics of terror, and thus mexico became the most violent place on earth, fortunately i had left while all this was occurring. the public were living in total fear as death became arbitrary, the authorities were paid off, corrupted by wealth, those that attempted to change the field and bring some sort of justice were murdered, often in their homes, along with their families, they were killed in the most horrific way so that others would be deterred.  
the innocent had no protection, everything became so corrupt, the police were earning more from drugs than police work. 
and all the while the american demand for cocaine grew and grew as i guess it's highly addictive, the cartels made billions from it, and when meth was added to the mix they made even more and with the increase in cash the more greed spread and directly proportional to that was the violence. 
this is the war on drugs, it's failed miserably. i'm halfway through el narco, and i can honestly say that unless these things become legalised and controlled as part of a taxable income by authorities the crime that goes with dealers and cartels will remain, the war on drugs was never really thought out with consideration. it's a dumb move by dumb people who took a political approach to a human need. the fact is drugs are everywhere, people take them, they always have, you cannot divide one drug from the other when there is demand, you can regulate it. especially when alcohol is legal and accepted.
i am so sad to see what happened in mexico, one of the loveliest places i ever went to, with such great people, they deserve better.
currently the drug cartels target journalists who try to write about it, many have been decapitated, their families murdered and dumped by the roadside as a message to others. cocaine comes with this karma, you can see it when people who use it start talking, you can see it in their eyes, feel it in their energy. until it comes without loss of life i think it really belongs with alcohol and cigarettes. in the dumb drug category.

CORDYCEPTS -

human beings tend to deny nature self regulates in diverse ways, empires rise and fall, memes come and go, tides ebb and flow, everything is in flux, the more in flux you are the more in harmony you are with nature. embrace flux, change and the holy tao. 
many spiritual people say,'just be.' 
but there is nothing in nature that just 'be's' nothing natural is still, even a rock has billions of atoms whizzing through it, millions of vibrations shooting their way around it, everything in nature is doing, so i always think when i hear people say,'just be' that they are chasing their tails, it's better to just do. nature is not being, it is doing, but not arbitrarily although to the three four dimensional being it just looks chaotic. 
find out who you are and be true to that
find out what you want to do and do that
remember karma, for every action there is an equal and opposite action, you will sow what you reap and reap what you sow, what goes around comes around.
don't interfere with another persons quest to know who they are and don't do anything that interferes with another persons doing unless in agreement. these are good laws towards happiness because cordycepts comes in many forms, it can form as a bad feeling in your mind, a negative destructive meme, you may not physically grow antlers or horns but you may start sprouting some weird fundamentalist type of philosophy, a belief that destroys the hosts and infects it's neighbours.

PLAYGROUP - BRING IT ON

PLAYGROUP - MAKE IT HAPPEN

missing my daughter i rang her on her mobile number.
'dad, it's the middle of the night, are you okay?'
'yeah, i miss you, just wanted to her your voice and know every things okay.'
'yeah dad, your silly, i love you dad, are you okay?'
'yeah i am, now. thanks sorry to disturb you.'
'hey give pan a hug for me.'
i laugh, 'okay sweetheart'
i put the phone down and returned to reading my book, el narco, about the mexican cocaine wars, but there's something that keeps distracting me, an unformed anxiety, a strange nagging idea that something is wrong. i put it down to my body requiring a coffee, so i grab a lead and wander out into the damp morning with pan. 
he's looking a little bored by all this rain, i think he may require a bone or something to play with, at least he can run around a little in the park. 
later i scan the papers, not much news in them, just the usual, i read some arts stuff, i'm thinking the government should really fund the arts some more, especially film and music, maybe give the church a grant to make a film, i float of into a daydream, but something is bugging me, something just not right. i drink my coffee and buy some home made lentil soup to take home for lunch, the rain starts again so i trudge through it, pan and i both disappointed that it's wet and miserable, our options are limited. i always carry a book with me, so i turn pages, while walking, while throwing pans ball. 
suddenly as i turn into my street i realise what it is, a strange awful sick feeling in my guts as i pack the book away and put pan on his leash jogging home. 
i don't have a daughter, who the hell was i speaking to, how did she know pan.
i throw down my stuff and grab my phone, the number i called appears on my screen, i'm conflicted about dialling, it will be the middle of the night in london but i call anyway, two three rings before a sleepy voice answers, 'dad, it's the middle of the night, what's wrong now?'
'who are you?'
'it's me dad, its the bloody middle of the night, three o clock, you woke me up.'
'what's your name?'
'it's ariel.'
'ariel, like the little mermaid?'
'dad, what are you doing, i have to get to sleep dad, i have to get up in three hours.'
'will you call me later'
'yeah dad, please don't worry, i have to go to sleep, we can talk later.'
i hang up, still confused, i should have waited until the morning, until we could have cleared it up, i didn't know what to say, but the sound of her voice did sound familiar, it was soft and gentle and the name ariel, if i did have a daughter that would probably be her name. i smiled, it felt good to have a daughter, even if i didn't, i returned to el narco and gradually i fell back into a deep sleep.

the madness sweeps through sydney, politically correct green zombies from the united nations have decided that in skools, kindys and playgrounds, children cannot touch one another.
reports come in from all over the city, here's an example of some.
- at a kindergarden in sydney two children who are really good friends are playing together, one falls over and hurts himself badly, the other attempts consolation by putting his arm around the injured person and hugging him, telling him everything will be okay. witnessed by a teacher the boy is suspended, warned that if he repeats the contact with another classmate he will be expelled, the outside friendship is not considered and the ban on all contact is final.
- in skool in the west a girl walking along the corridor drops a cardigan and the boy behind her calls out after her, she does not hear so he runs up to her, with the cardigan, taps her on the shoulder and informs her she dropped the cardigan, returning it as a true gentleman would. witnessed by a teacher the boy is suspended for touching another student.
- two friends high five one another at lunch break, both suspended.


in all cases parents discuss the incidents with the teachers and heads, all parents are told they should move their children into other skools if they have an issue with the rule.


in one skool the 9 year olds who were suspended actually organised a peaceful protest, holding hands with sympathetic children during lunch. these children were given detention.


okay so it's not massive life threatening news, but along with the gillard / green party's movement to compulsory scan children for psychiatric issues at five years old, i think we are seeing the kind of social engineering that we should be very worried about.
my point here is who watches the watcher, the state watches us, but who really watches them, once they control media, education, distribution of wealth and this governments obsessive need to make people dependant upon them, who will watch big brother watching us. while i believe in a good safety net for the poor, for people who are in need i think cases should be considered individually. i do not like what i have seen in england where people are born into a culture of entitlement, the state does everything form birth to death, i think this is quite dangerous and spiritually fatal. 
i felt this when i was there last, my diagnosis was a spiritual illness, i wrote about it, spoke about it and was ridiculed for it, until the riots started.
as europe pretends to prepares it's options, the options are reduced to one. that's the way it has been engineered, part of the agenda, i've written about this before many times, even attempted to warn people but what can you do, people stick their heads in the sands or obsess about jews, lizards or illuminati, which were just distractions and part of the sleight of hand tactics to distract you. the real enemy is the united nations agenda 21 and the codex. it's all there in black and white, no mystical force at play, just politics, control and power. 
the euro currency was a bit like putting a horse before the cart, every one used the same currency but the infrastructure was completely different, now they will have to change the infrastructure. this means becoming one country, a federation, ruled by brussels, everyone follows the same laws, same tax, same retirement age, the identities of individual cultures are absorbed into one and before you start thinking, yes but that's a good idea, let me just add cultural globalism will only function at the lowest vibration, globalism is where evolution will stop. it was only thanks to the diversity of europe that it ever expanded. while this may have been a destructive force historically it was inevitable that man explore beyond his shores. what is known is we will all have to step backwards to the way our grandparents lived as this happens. i'm uncertain if this is good or bad, but the fact governments have much more power and are unrepresentative of the populations makes me think it's bad.
how are they doing it?
while we are all looking up at the big picture, watching the big government game what has your local council been doing? 
that's how they do it, from a council level agenda 21 is being implemented. in sydney the councils just milks us for cash, it makes the use of cars harder, it does not improve public transport, making movement difficult. it designates environmental protection above peoples rights, yet this is a selective process, there's no problem coal seam gas mining in your back garden, they can just demand access and frak your land to bits. look at the shipping lanes the government has created to get shipments to china faster, they destroy the coastal areas of far north queensland while at the same time they present massive ocean reserves that stop fishing families making a living. we see it on the news as big ocean reserves and think, brilliant idea, but we don't see the large picture because the critical thinking faculty has been obliterated by the education process, which dumbs people down creating, zombies. where are the intellectuals? certainly not at university anymore.
anyways, what's the solution, i guess it's to look at all sides of the shape, get the angles, be critical of power and control, left and right, believe in a higher law, find out who you are and be true to that, loose your mind in nature, follow your heart, love your enemy, and finally i believe that the universe is a living intelligence that has a plan we can't even begin to comprehend so smoke some nice organic weed and rejoice in its beauty and magnificence. that's it.

one morning the night started leaking through
i was trying to stop it, sticking my fingers in the holes but there were so many, i just gave up and watched it all happen. i was with pan, we were heading down to the beach, i like to wander down there in the early hours of morning, check the surf, watch the surfers, grab a coffee, read the papers but i'd only just left the house, was throwing a ball for pan, when quite unexpectedly night poured into the day. the whole thing took about five minites.
obviously at first i was taken by surprise, just the weirdness and the scientific implausibility of it all, but after a while as it filled into the rest of the day i just accepted it and carried on walking into town. people passed me and neighbours came running out of their homes, children carrying half eaten toast, dad's scratching their heads clutching the financial section of the newspapers, i attempted to explain it to a small crowd of mums pushing prams but they just looked as if i was a madman. 
it was obviously some strange astronomical effect, a kind of eclipse type event.
sirens wailed in the distance, a helicopter flew low over the coast and i watched the surfers come in from the ocean, all looked glad to be on land, all seemed equally as baffled as the spectators. lights were coming on in homes, cars driving along switched on their headlights and a few shops lit up along the high street. i wandered along to my favourite coffee shop, the garden cafe where they play brian jones town and the dandies, where the coffee is always good, where i fell in love with a exotic customer in a purple coat as she waited for her take away latte, but today she was nowhere in sight and the papers lay scattered across the tables, as customers discussed the strange event.
they rush up to me, 'what's going on' pleading for an answer. 
i shake my head, 'don't know, the night just leaked in.'
people whispered and murmured to others, a man said to his wife, 'it leaked, that guy said it just leaked right in.'
everyone seems to be discussing this and eventually it is accepted as a legitimate. people return to their newspapers and lattes, the waitress starts serving the long queue that has formed, housewives return to their duties, husbands to their cars.
i sit down and wait for my coffee, wondering if the day is really starting or ending.

your future looks bleak, i have seen it, it has been sold to you through the twin masks deception and lies, you have been force fed confusion and its symbiotic twin distortion.
you think you have the picture in focus but it is far from what is really going on. you clutch at straws, only to find these are not straws but mighty weights designed to drown you in conspiracy and division, you become the host for the weapon, the meme war, you circulate it, you are the weapon of mass destruction, you can't see the truth as your critical thinking faculty has been dismantled by fear, by division, by design.




in the near future cash will be null and void, money has almost reached its use buy date. for those that fear 'money' and those that are critical of the current system take note. the new money will be credit based around energy. every single transaction will be based around this idea, the world will have an energy grid in which we will all be tapped into and trapped within, don't believe me? it's already being constructed, did you not attend the public meeting? the one where they passed resolution 21, oh that's right, we all live in a democracy, the united nations are our elected representatives? what you mean they aren't?


every single product to service will be based around this new currency, however the problem with this idea is it is even more controlling and corrupt than the current cash one, that's why i laugh at the green left who for some reason appear to trust implicitly those they hand their power to.
at least now you can opt out of the cash game by just dealing in cash, horde it under the bed, pay for everything in cold cash or just get off the matrix as a number of my friends have. you can function under the radar as i do, you can slip between cracks, you can elude attention, you can be diverse and oppositional but we have reached critical mass, the system is falling apart, we all know it, so do they.
the banks will run the new credit economy, they will control us much more effectively via this method than they can with cash.
how will they do this?
they have done it.
global warming is all sleight of hand, it's nothing to do with science and everything to do with political power. the worlds population must be reduced, that's the agenda, the food shortage is coming, that's controlled from the united nations, the numbers crunched, models calculated, the collapse of all sovereign states, already happened in europe, the lisbon treaty, most english people don't even know what it is, if they did the queen would be hung for treason, ex pm gordon brown confessed his government set out to destroy england via uncontrolled immigration following un directives. europe is fucked, not just through uncontrolled immigration but through the failure of their governments to look after the interests of their people. when the governments are caught out the people rebel and overthrow the government, however who steps in to get us out of the mess, the same unelected officials that fucked it up, the technocrats. 
you think you are doing the right thing, the higher path, the more liberal attitude the more generalised approach, you are a globalist, you care about the planet so the memes you run are caring ones, well intentioned memes line the road to hell.
you have been sold a lie, the very environmental movement, the left wing, and to a lesser extent the right, all want the same thing, the total control of humanity, and the method is fear. divide conquer, saturate the info war with contradictory information, create division, until the left and right look the same, control the media, education revolutions mean indoctrination is not currently working therefore we must brainwash you further, the only legitimate education revolution is run by ken robertson, whose ideas were rejected by the labour government of tony blair, because they would have set us free as individuals and that is the very thing the authorities don't want. 
read 1984, we are the dead, have your child scanned by some socialist authority for a mental illness at the age of five (this is the new gillard plan) imagine a world where mental health is standardised, goodbye great works of art, man it's so, que the irony, depressing. abolish alternative healing methods, create new anxieties, it's not just the banks who have humanity in their sights your friendly neighbourhood drug company does, lets get people herded along into their nice little units and boxes. jesus!


australia is about to launch its carbon tax, apparently it's going to save the planet.
it's not even going to save australia, it's just going to increase the cost of ever single thing for australians while china and india pump out more pollution from products they buy from us. taxing carbon won't make any difference whatsoever, it would be more sensible to ban the consumption of beef, therefore more forest would not be used for grazing less cows bred, less methane emissions. besides the science that is behind global warming is incorrect as it's based upon models, not science. sure there is a change in the climate, but that's called weather. sure the environment of our planet needs to be a priority, but lets do it sensibly and reasonably two qualities bereft from political ideologies running canberra.
australia just borrowed billions more from the banks, and it offers 300 million dollars from that loan to afghanistan for the next ten years nation building. it would have been cheaper to have paid the taliban a million each just to go retire in las vegas or on a boat cruising the med. europe paid off the plo to stop bombing in their counties and hijacking their planes and cruise ships, it worked. 
australia wasted 100 million dollars to buy a seat on the un security council for which we get a certificate saying wayne swan is the best treasurer on earth. millions wasted on pink bats, millions wasted on school buildings and large government departments that don't actually do anything, millions wasted on a broadband network that has already been superseded.
why the waste?
because that is fundamentally the difference between left and right, the right are prudent and focus upon keeping the nation out of debt, the left are irresponsible because it's not their cash. 
to me both are nuts, i think governments are all pathologically insane, i think that about most humans and people have said that about me, but the fact is no matter what position is taken if it's not reasonable, it's doomed to fail. yet unlike the pervaders of conspiracy theories i have the solution.
it's an ancient one i borrowed from kabbalistic and hindu traditions, it's known throughout the world and can be expressed in one law. 
commonly known as the law of karma.
if you are reasonable and reasonably minded, then do what you will.
it's that simple. if you decide you want more than your share then have it, karma will take it away eventually, if not from you then from your descendent, maybe the guilt will just activate a self destruct gene. 
everything has a karmic value, even energy, so perhaps when i am ruler of my world, i will make only one law for mankind and it won't have anything to do with money or energy. 
you see this laws, the law of karma is universal, it's very real, what goes around comes around, it's an essential fundamental inarguable truth hardwired into our future.
if you eat an animal that has been treated cruelly it's going to have a karmic value, although just eating it will have some negative value. if you snort a line of coke, it's going to have a karmic value, everything you do or say will have a value, same with your intention, forgiveness and acts of mercy, kindness and being reasonable. these will make you rich in my world. it's really simple, elegant and works, just try it for a life, get back to me with your thoughts. 
the beauty is no human mind can understand the machinations of karma, the intricacy of its mechanics, it's so complex it takes a universe to make it happen and yet here we are, in our circumstances, looking at stars together, feeling the beauty, sharing the truth, not really divided at all.

okay i'm having a break from stephen baxter, he's mighty weighty, both in concept and style, i love what he does, it's a huge scale and he looks at it from an interesting perspective, humanity at the end of evolution needing a redemption, feeling guilty for all the suffering that has gone before, the weight of human suffering weighs down upon them like unresolved burden, a gravity from which there is only one escape. pulling out a quasi religious concept through science baxter succeeds as a novelist and science fiction writer. the ending was unglamorous and he avoids the sexy temptation of a final conclusion. i liked where he took me, pondering evolution, it's many branches and the fact at some point it will end in a singularity. what happens then.
very good book, 'transcendence' the third in the series but second in the xeelee time line.

i take a break and am now in el narco, by ioan grillo an english writer / journalist who has written a harrowing report on the drug trade in mexico from the growers and traffickers to the police and political implications, its brutality like you would not believe, it will make you think twice before you snort your next line, all you coke freaks who wank on about how politically correct you are should fucking fly over to mexico and apologise personally to the families of the dead for your dumb choice in drugs, if reading this book won't make you think before you snort that line of glamour then nothing will. tens of thousands of deaths for you to put that into your nose. i hate coke, i don't like coke people, and now i know why, there's a karmic value attached to feeling good with it. the women i have met who use it are actually worse than the men but that's just my opinion and i'm only two chapters in. cocaine and ice are not marijuana. cocaine has its place, i know that, but certainly not under the conditions that exist now. if you have any humanity just say 'know' because the cocaine you snort up into your nose cost far more blood and misery than you want to even know about. actually misery don't even come close to describing the brutality and violence attached to it, why, so you can feel good for a fraction of time, talk shit and inflate your ego. forget it sister, snorting coke under the present circumstances, you're holding the smoking gun.

krishna say's to arjuna, 'they are already dead.'


arjuna feeling anxious and reluctant before the battle with his cousins who were tyrants ruling over a disputed territory, he stands on the hilltop looking down knowing much blood will be spilt.
'how can i fight my own family, my friends and teachers, a part of me' he asks.


those hindu love gods were hardcore, they called a spade a spade poetically, when it comes to loving and fighting, when it comes to duty. no compassion there, nothing but acceptance, the fatalist surrenders to a higher power and does his / her duty, what is our duty anyway, maybe duty is what fate brings us, war and love. maybe our duty is only to die well, hows that for a fatalistic attitude, i guess one should live well then. 
what does that mean, live well?
live without fear, for only the body can be killed, try to love well, be creative, attempt to beat your own demons, yeah that's kinda it really, later in the gita he describes how to do this effectively.
krishna also says, don't be attached to the results, here we have a fundamental truth, a magickal act. krishna is a manifestation of arjuna's higher self, the guru aspect, the godhead, the sum of all potential, the result of millions of incarnations. to do your duty will set you free, is that what voltaire said, i think he did in a different way.

when krishna reveals himself he does so in one of my favourite images ever, i think it's a magnificent image captured by above. 
could duty be will, as in magickal will?
i think it is the same thing, when true will meets duty meets fate destiny is born.
the quest still remains what is ones will, the answer can be found in ken robertson's brilliant book about education, the element, true will is doing what you love doing. it's the one thing you do that obliterates time, hours can pass and you be unaware, it's known to the body, you're body is naturally pushing you in that direction, your almost forced into it unless your unlucky enough to be in an education system that destroys it. it's not necessarily your passion but it's close, it's when the mind knows, it's when the mind is what you're doing, it's part zen and part everything, it's what the mayans called 'eight division sky place' it's pretty much following your intuition to it's natural conclusion. 
develop that through yoga and meditation, practice karmic yoga, be free from self imposed restriction.
often i return to the sages, just to remind myself what i already know, often i flick through all these wise words from various traditions, i take out the crap, the fat, 'the thou shalt nots' for what is left is everything. soon i will explain the kabbalistic meaning of the old testament, i will attempt it, but it is a very tricky concept, it may take the rest of my life, it may take one post, who knows anything when you know everything, not me, i know nothing. 

a woman from ancient japan offers me some white light, i sit down as she chants her incantations, i close my eyes and immediately i am standing on an island, it's a beautiful day and there's a warm breeze against my skin, i can feel it upon my face. when i come around half an hour has passed, it's raining heavily, i am cold and slightly miserable.

i thank her and head back to mission control, loaded down with eggs, rhubarb, leeks and some raw cocoa. i'm uncertain why i have these products, i know i will use them in the next week.

dr crack is driving me home, i'm not sure if i want to confront him about his orloff game, this little puppet master thinks he can pull all my strings but he can't, he is bemused by me, i don't fit into his map, it's undiscovered territory and he's frightened, just like he's frightened of the jaguars in the amazon.
crack is talking about global conspiracy, he's been reading icke and it's infected him, he's running it all by me, at least he's honest enough to ask me am i a lizard, to which i mention i forgot to pick up a bag of flies, i also fleetingly think i am the lizard king but i keep my cards close to my chest.
'what if there were no lizard conspiracy, what would it be, giraffe cabals, fucking dolphin cults, or how about octopi gangs, you fear the unknown, you gotta give it a name, it's apophenia, a coiled piece of rope looks like a serpent, is it?'
'what's apophenia?'
'it's finding meaning in something where other's don't.'
'is that what icke does?'
'yeah, half the planet does it, he just makes a fortune from it.'
crack clams up, he talks a little bit about the weather and then murmurs something about cooking, then when we pull up outside mission control i jump out.
i run through the rain, it's very cold, a wild wind blows into my face and i run up my steps clutching my vegetables. i crash through and my phone starts going mental.
'what do you make of the illuminati?'
'a bunch of post scientist mystics who bear you or their fellow man no ill will.'
'not satanists then?'
'no, not at all, in fact they are luciferian.'
'how do you know.'
'i hang up'

kate bush - wild man

SPOILERS AHEAD

i'm not quite sure why ridley scott would say prometheus is not a prequel to alien when it is. it is also an independent film from alien that shares some thematic references and narratively entwines in a direct undeniable way, but i think he does himself a disservice to say it is not a prequel to a great film like alien. promethuis is independently great to in a very different way, it shares a similar intelligence, very good performances and script, it shares some familiar sets, motifs and hardware but the central theme here is about two archeologists looking for the 'engineers' of life on earth in deep space, and not finding what they hoped for but that's the only difference, in most other ways it's a repeat of alien.

i was really looking forwards to this film, i love science fiction, i think it's a very intelligent genre and imaginative as well but most of all its subversive. mr. scott takes on the ultimate subversion in his quest for god, and he answers some of that question but as always a good question only leaves another new one.

the main character is brilliantly endearing, she's pre ripley but could be a riply clone, the android from wayland is played by the brilliant micheal fassbender who channels dave from 2001 and lawrence of arabia a la peter o toole and i think david bowie from the man who fell to earth, and the captain is idris elba who answers the films most fundamental question and the super bitch mission director is the very attractive charize theron, so the pedigre of acting is peak, although there was something very wrong about the english girl in a dream sequence, it felt like she was reading from a script. 

i feel that despite being a fantastic film it was a sell out to the blockbuster ethos, it took a u turn into the usual alien type film, the goo, slime and monsters, the human decapitations and awful cronenberg type deaths were unnecessary because science fiction don't need all the horror, it just requires the ideas. 

there as some disturbing scenes in this film, but the awe is saved for the landscapes and the encounter with our makers, the big space vessels and the decision the main protagonist makes at the end. 

this is worth seeing on a big screen, i recommend it, i loved it but it was not the film i thought and it was not as good as it could have been. ridley scott contact me, for i have the ultimate science fiction story, it has everything, subversion, sex, big questions, big answers, yes really ridley, stop wasting time with these mass market formula fodder and get back to basics, great ideas.

reasonable me, walking my dog looking quite reasonable in my sensible clothes and reasonable attitude, i bid good morning to those i pass, i bear no ill to my enemy, i have a friendly disposition and have a reasonable attitude to all things, all people, all types. i flow through a reasonable day, between non offence and acceptance, i adopt reasonable posture and eat reasonable food, i exude my reasonable outlook towards a reasonable future while my disappointment in myself is reasonable and my acceptance of yours is equal, i am neither here nor there, good or bad, i'm a shade of grey, i wear neutrality on my sleeve, i take no sides, i am indeed moderate in my intention. 
my health is reasonable as is my intellect, my heart offers a reasonable capacity for love and my spiritual relationship with the universe is reasonable. i have a reasonable growth of stubble on my reasonably proportioned face, i exude reasonable commentary and observation, i am indeed the archetype of reasonability.
or am i incognito, working undercover, maybe it's all a front, a mask behind a mask, for underneath my true self is a strange unknowable entity, ever changing, a mass of contradiction, a paradox, a foolish soothsayer, a blind visionary, a warlord of peace and love, a slayer of self, a warlocked out, shamanistic, magickian amongst the non alcoholic spirits and table knocking mediums or moderates, unhinged ideas, super ego less vague road lesser travelled, wandering a wasteland, discombobulated entity and floating sensationalist, ecstatic travel through dimensional shifts and zones of thoughts, fleeting and reoccurring dreamer, shapeshifting, alien, a lonely old cosmonaut drifting through time, stepping out of this world into yours, on a jet black night, venus and neptune, watery glyphs, sigils and portal de rossi what knot, who knows anything really?  

VENUS IN TRANSIT

tuesday morning, i'm considerably richer, orloff made good on his word, which brings its own dilemma, for now i have to produce a result. i've already cracked the book, its pretty obvious it's a treatise on the goddess, and a very early feminist manifesto, what is proving rather tricky is producing the first translated  copy that was published.
no message from paulo or his contacts but i've send out a hyper hydra search virus, it's a simple and elegant piece of code that searches search engines, you just need to target your prey with the correct information, which in this case is fairly narrow, but within a few hours the virus will have embedded itself into every e mail or web page that contains information relating to the original text. the virus is not really a virus, it leaves no trace or forensic evidence, it merely acts as a ghost in the machine, i do the same with orloff, but i suspect the name is a pseudonym, i play around with anagrams but loose focus. 
i can obtain replications, i can get faxed versions but what orloff has requested is an original translation, the first one. the trouble with these is the translator can only hazard an educated guess at these type of books, it's all smoke and mirrors and  'love in a dream' is mostly smoke where the mirror should be and mirror where the smoke is expected. every translation will read unique due to the fact it was written in several different languages to begin with. 
around midday orloff rings, 'tick tock, i need it before venus crosses the sun mission.'
'i can't get you the first translation, my contacts are limited and it's an extremely rare book anyway.'
'tell me what you know so far?'
'i know you're not who you say you are.'
'the book mission, the book, or are you lost in the woods?'
'i'm at home in the woods orloff, if you want to find the book i suggest you hire a private detective. i'm not a detective, i just read a lot.'
'i know who you are captain mission, i know you can find the book.'
'look orloff, there are translations out there, on the net, you can buy facsimiles, various different translations, i don't think you need me at all. this is about something else isn't it?'
'ha ha, i don't need you at all, that is correct you need me though to lead you out from the woods.'
while this ridiculous conversation chased its own tail i received two e mails, one from paulo, one from the hydra ghost virus, it had found out a little about orloff, in fact it was now returning to my laptop with all some considerable information. i watched files enter the download folder.
'orloff, call me back in an hour and i may have something for you.'
i hung up, chucked the phone on the sofa opposite and opened paulo's e mail.
his contact in rome had found the first english translation of 'love in a dream' by robert darlington, but mr. darlington had given up halfway through, driven mad by the task itself, the manuscript was in an antique book collectors for more cash than i could possibly raise, but at least i had found the book, that was something. 
the next attempt at transalation is the one which most people know off, by joscelyn godwin, paulo's contact also said the original author of the book had hidden his name within the book, although it was now well known to be franchesco colonna but there were other schools of thought that said it may be leon battista alberti, perhaps one designed the woodcuts the other the words.
i opened the other e mail and there was a series of photographs of the man who called himself orloff, immediately recognisable. as being identical to the woodcuts. 172 photographs. 172 woodcuts.
i sat back and looked at the images they were all perfect reproductions, exactly the same depictions as their woodcut originals, more detailed and intricate than the woodcuts but originals none-the-less. 
i rearranged their order and jumped into photoshop, then i put each one side by side with the original.
i resized them and overlapped them, bleeding both into one another, they were perfect, which left the question. 
who was orloff?


  

eventually poliphilo escapes this place but we cannot be certain if he does this by actually falling asleep again, within the dream. it certainly alludes to this.

in this dream he is escorted by nymphs, they take him to their queen where he declares his love for polia, he is then led to a number of gates which he must chose from, he chooses the third and as he enters the nymphs reunite him with polia, they are both taken to a temple for their engagement and as they progress they witness several celebrations and processions to honour their union. on a boat escorted by cupid they sail to the island of cythera ( a greek island).

it appears that something strange happens here, the narrator of the story has been popiphilo but suddenly events are described from polias point of view although when eventually popiphilo resumes narration popila rejects popihilo, whereby cupid acts and commands her to kiss him awake from his deathlike swoon, at which he returns to life, venus blesses their love and the lovers are united at last but just when poliphilo is about to take polia in his arms she vanishes and popihilo wakes up.

i switch of my computer, make a few calls to people i know, leave messages, i think i get the idea behind the book, although there are many, the main one is clear to me. one has to appreciate the way the church from rome worked and what it was really all about which is warfare and suppression. you have to know not just how to read, but how to read between lines and through time. that's the thing with esoteric books, they always have some fundamental truth hidden away that at the time of printing would have been considered punishable by a painful death. 

later from my contacts i uncover that the book is indeed a complex mix of several ancient languages, impossible to really read coherently in traditional ways, even the title is considered unpronounceable.

the illustrations are difficult to understand, they are intersecting to the text, a bit like 'house of leaves' which happens to be one of my favourite books. it's one big hyperlinked idea, i begin to see it.

here's another strange thing, the woodcuts all seem to have a cinematic air about them, depicting movement, following the laws of cinematography one could say that the principles have been used in this book which is why the book actually has a double page spread of illustrations.

the names of the characters, the male (lover of many things) the female (many things) is the first anchor point i use. it's obvious that we have polarities here, for in the text poliphilo is in love with many things, especially the architecture he sees, but this can be embodied in popila, the buildings are objects of desire or metaphors, he even describes marble walls as 'virginal' and 'flawless' he feels incredible joys' and 'unbound delight' and the buildings fill him with 'carnal pleasure' and 'lust' he loves them because they are agreeable to touch, they are magnificent and fragrant. he even assaults a sleeping nymph so aroused by the atmosphere of the buildings.

there's parts of the book where he assigns the buildings a polymorphic attribute and at one point even makes love to the building.

my contacts, although a small group span the globe, it's morning in europe so i place a phone call and leave a message. half an hour later i hear back from paulo, a research student in italy, he is an engineer theorist specialising in wind power and he makes note of the influence of the descriptions and woodcuts that depict wind powered objects, these have been considered the first of their kind documented, paulo also has a contact in rome, he puts the feelers out for more information, he thinks he may know some one who can help track down a translation.

book detectives are a strange breed, they are obsessive but also somewhat absent minded, they share some similar qualities, to normal investigators, except the world they operate in is academic. i never thought of myself as a specialist but i guess i am knowledgeable in esoteric literature and i have quite an effective methodology of location and interpretation, and this is probably what mr. orloff was alluding to.

i have asked paulo to investigate orloff as well, considering it's wise to know equally about my employer, as the book.

i check the time, it's now nearly midnight, i figure tomorrow morning i'll use my technological wizardry to locate the book, but i'll give paulo a bit of a chance first as the hydra code takes the search up a notch, besides, let's see if orloff pays up as promised.

   

i should have seen it coming, rain drenched sunday morning i'm having a coffee with dr. crack, he's feeling somewhat nihilistic today so i'm glad of a distraction. two men approach me, they are dressed in non-descript grey suits, very average looking straight men, they ask me if i am captain mission. this is tricky because i don't want to draw attention to myself after the weeks events, so i just nod, waiting for the punchline, i seriously think these are cupcake hench-monkeys but they appear intelligent and far to conservative looking to be her kind of thug, i offer them a seat but they refuse and offer me a card instead, with a single phone number embossed in a fine elegant font. 'you can call at anytime mr. mission.' so i put the card away and return to sunday newspaper blues and think nothing of it.
later, around sunset i pull out the card and call the number, 'hey this is captain mission, i was given your card this morning.'
'captain mission, just hang on a moment' a female voice says, it has a hint of a french accent, mysterious i think.
i hang on.
'captain mission, good evening sir, i am right, it is evening there in sydney correct?'
'yes it's evening and you are...?'
'my name is orloff and i would like to request your help.'
'yeah right, why should i believe you need my help.'
'because i will pay you.'
'okay...'
'i have it on good authority that you are quite well read, that you have a good knowledge of books and a certain knack for finding them.'
'yeah i can track books, so?'
'i'm looking for a certain book mr. mission. it's known as 'poliphili's strife ...' 
'love in a dream' i finish for him, 'yeah i know of it.'
'good good, your reputation is accurate.'
'i don't have a reputation mr. orloff, and if i do it's a fiction, don't believe everything you hear or read.'
'i have it on very good authority that you are gifted at finding arcane literature.'
'you want to pay me to find you a copy of poliphili?'
'not just a copy, an english translation for which i will reward you handsomely. as a gesture of good faith i will have my aides drop off some money as a retainer tomorrow, plus you will require some money for expenses. this first part is yours to keep if you find the book or not, if you do i will double the amount. we will speak again tomorrow.'
the phone went dead, i put it down and looked online at what i could find out about the book. it was anonymously written but attributed to many italian monks, i had heard of it through the film, 'the ninth gate' in which johnny depp is asked to search for it. interesting and a little spooky i think as i recall the ending. in the film the book is a grimorie written by the devil and as the johnny depp character attempts to track it down he begins a strange journey, similar to poliphilli who is lost in a strange dream. johnny depp is competing with other book trackers whom have malevolent intentions, they believe the book will assist them summon the devil. 
i knew that the book was written in a number of languages, some invented by the author and the engravings were considered exquisite, depicting poli's search for his true love polia, what i didn't know was the translation of the protagonists names and i had no idea that carl jung got his theory of archetypes from it. i researched the plot despite being familiar with the main story, what i did uncover was the embedded dream, the dream within a dream.
the narrative starts with poliphilo (friend of many things) distraught after being shunned by his beloved polia (many things) somehow he is transported to a mysterious forest, which may or may not be an allegory, where he becomes lost. here he comes across mysterious and fabulous beasts, satyrs, naiads, dragons, wild wolves, who all advice and give council like gods and goddesses to mere mortals, through esher like buildings and impossible architecture filled with exotic designs created by a talented engineer or artist.


for example:



in the centre of this admirable area, i saw an extraordinary fountain spurting clear water through narrow pipes as high as the closing hedge. the water fell back into a wide shell of fine amethyst, three paces in diameter and three inches thick, diminishing to one inch at the rim of this excellent tub. all around it aquatic monsters could be seen, perfectly carved in bas-relief. the ancient craftsmen never managed to achieve such splendid work in hard stone as this admirable and complex ornamentation, nor could pausanias boast of such when he dedicated his bronze crater at hippari. this one was expertly fixed on a splendid pillar of jasper, with many veins beautifully intersecting one another, inlaid with diaphanous chalcedony the colour of turbid sea-water. it was a noble artefact, made from two throated vases placed one on the other and separate by a narrow knot. it stood erect, fastened to the centre of a circular plinth of greenish serpentine. this plinth was raised five inches above the flat pavement, as was the surrounding rim of porphyry that was curiously decorated with fine wave-mouldings. beneath the basin and around the pillar, four golden harpies with rapacious taloned feet rested on the surface of the serpentine plinth. their back parts were against the pillar, one directly opposite another, and their unfolded wings rose toward the violet lip of the basin. they had the faces of virgins, and hair that flowed down their necks on to their shoulders, while their heads did not reach the underside of the basin. their serpentine tails were curled up and turned at the end into antique rinceaux, joining the lower vase of the pillar not ungracefully, but with amicable union and interlacing. inside the amethyst basin, at its navel and directly above the supporting pillar, there rose a well-proportioned vase like a long inverted calyx, reaching as far above the surrounding rim as the basin was deep. upon this was raised an artistic base that supported the three nude graces, made from fine gold, equal in height and connected to one another. from the nipples of their breasts there flowed thin streams of water looking like rods of refined silver, polished and striated, as if it had been distilled fom the white pumice of taracona. each one held in her right hand a cornucopia that reached a little above her head, then the mouths of all three horns met and made a single round, open form. an abundance of various fruits and leaves overflowed the opening or rim of the intertwined horns.


six little spouts protruded among the fruits and foliage, from which the water flowed through minute openings. the clever metal-sculptor had avoided having the elbows collide by having the statues make a gesture of modesty, hiding with their left hands those parts that should be covered. the open basin’s circumference reached a foot beyond that of the serpentine plinth below it, and well spaced around its rim were six scaly dragons of bright gold, resting on their reptilian feet with their heads high. they were remarkably made so that the water coming from the breasts fell directly into their hollow and open heads. their wings were spread, their mouths wide open. the water was let out, or rather vomited through a channel so that it fell between the round serpentine plinth and the circle of porphyry, which rose an equal distance above the floor of the courtyard or open pavement, as already described. there was a channel between the serpentine plinth and this porphyry circle, one-and-a-half feet wide and two feet deep. the porphyry circle was three feet wide on its flat surface, with fine wave-mouldings toward the pavement.


the rest of the dragons snaked across the shallow basin, then all their tails came together and were transformed into antique rinceaux, making at the appropriate height a satisfying juncture with the support or footing of the three figures, and without deforming the hollow of the precious basin. the latter took on a wonderful colouring from the combination of the green orange-tree hedge, the translucent material and the pure water, so that it resembled a rainbow among the clouds inside the noble, proud and elegant vessel. there were also lion-heads with manes that stood out from the convex part of the basin, equally spaced between each pair of dragons on this splendid water-tub. with perfect aim, the lions spewed out through tubes in their mouths the water that fell from the six little pipes of the beautiful cornucopia. this water was driven with low pressure that made it fall between the dragons into the broad and resonant basin, so that its long fall made a lovely tinkling in the open vessel. it was rare work, this proud fountain erected with keen ingenuity, with its perfect harpies and the rare dignity of the support for the three brilliant golden figures, all executed with the highest artistry and finish. i could never make a brief and lucid exposition of it, much less describe it all. it was no work of merely human skill, but i can freely testify, calling the gods to witness, that never in our age has there been a more graceful or admirable sculpture, nor even one to equal it. i was stupefied as i considered how hard and resistant the stones were that supported the great basin, namely the pillar which was made from two throated vases, one above the other, with as much ease and facility as though the material in question had been soft wax.

the light ages are here, a special child is born, welcome to the world ryder, welcome to your life. 
my very good friend evan is a father and if he's half as good as he is, being my friend, he will be a wonderful dad. 
congratulations evan and leanne and ryder, i love you guys and you will enjoy the ride, it's amazing.

sometimes, on wet days when i am alone, i think of her, miss cupcake in her strange circumstance, american disposition, hong kong mind. i think about her need to keep it going, reaching out through hate with her flying monkey friends, manipulating them to get to me, 'why' i think would some one want to do that if not because they love you. it's a warped distorted love admittedly but i think i understand, she needs help, but can't ask for it, she wants me, but can't bring herself to admit it. vengeance is a way of asking for punishment i guess, you want to punish me. 
it's pointless cupcake, you can't punish me without punishing yourself, i can't help the alcoholic streak that lives inside you now, that's grown beyond those that love you. but you can do it, you can because you fight much better than you love and thats what needed now.
i'm still somewhat shaken buy the threatening phone calls, they were quite nasty and vindictive, there was not much intelligence behind them, just an ugly energy,  weak one following orders i guess but those kind of threats have repercussions and consequences so i ask you pull back the reigns on your monkey's, keep them on a short leash, they do your bidding in a way i could never do, so be kind to them but keep them away from me now, damage is done and i fear it will effect you much more than me.
onwards i go, heading somewhere else, life is somewhere else, it's moving behind the veils, we are shadows on a cave wall after all, flickering in candle light, pouring through time, i'd travel along the waves that come my way, some are big and dangerous, others small fast forceful ones, it's not the size that matters girls, it's the ride. it's all how you ride and the world is filled with diversity in its wave motion, some knock you down and others lift you up, turbulence is just part off a wave as well, and some one else's drama is one i really don't choose to catch, so grab a lungful of air and dive under it while it passes, surface for another, a better one with grace and beauty, one that takes you somewhere else, somewhere closer to love.

my first hit of blowback knocked me out, i phased out and saw the room, my room, cosy comfortable, dimly lit, bohemian type lounge with the soft flicker of candles and the soft cushions strewn across the floor and the wonderful sarongs with their vibrant colours and patterns, i saw them all and then they just slipped away.
i was back in 1977, london, i was in my skinny skool kid body, awkward and absurd, driven by hormones i was obsessed with kim power, she was dressed in her tight black jeans and a david bowie tee-shirt, she was smoking a french cigarette and had a hot pink electric guitar on which she was showing me how to make a c minor. still my fave chord, there's always romance in c minor. she had beautiful lips, my hormones were screaming for me to kiss her mouth but i was so nervous i could only try to be cool and fail.
kim power was the coolest girl on planet earth and it was our first date. we were sitting in her room, she was playing me some bowie bootlegs, 'live at reading polytechnic 1972, the one where he plays waiting for the man as an encore, i'd never heard it before, she had a pretty unique record collection, turning me on to the new york thing, she played me some patti smith and skinned up a big spliff, her mum came in and gave us a parental look, and some tea in big mugs with some biscuits. i felt embarrassed and didn't know where to look. 
later kim took me out to see, wait for it, 'adam and the ants and the au pairs' at some small little club in london. it was before they were a pop band, they were actually quite good, so much energy in a room you could literally feel the electricity, that was it, i was never the same. london went from being a city of grim depressing rain to an explosion of possibilities, everyone started bands, everyone tried to be different, everyone kicked out the jams and did it themselves. i discovered my inner punk although i often got beaten up for it, teddy boys and rockers used to ambush me as i walked home from skool, even the teachers hated me and kim power, but we had one another and that was the thing, although she was never my girlfriend in a romantic sense we were close enough to share one another and we were joined at the hip, so when people picked a fight with me, she would always have my back, and she was a good fighter, better than me. she set the template for me, what i wanted from a girlfriend was someone that would fight in your corner when the chips are down, it's a rare thing but wow, it's amazing to have that kind of support, the only girl who i did get that from was agent stoned who was pretty good at defending me when i needed it, most girls kinda have this intrinsic behaviour where they secretly align themselves with the strongest, the bully. what is all that about? evolutionary psychology i guess, there's something very dangerous about the way a girl can rejoice in humiliation. i saw it a lot and it's a warning sign, i see it in wives with their husbands, although one could argue it works the other way around. i don't find it attractive at all, in fact it's the worst quality in girls, that kind of joy they feel when the man they apparently like or love is humiliated in front of them, kim power would defend me  under any circumstances, she would never let anyone try to intimidate or threaten me. that was very cool, respect.
anyway, she went on to become some sort of rock and roll wife to some american pop star, i went on to berlin but i'll aways remember her in her skool uniform with a blue mohawk and safety pin ear ring. 
sometimes under blowback i drift back to that time, listening to albums, digging the scene, dressing up in our carnaby street clothes and going out into damp london streets looking for some action, rock and roll dreams, screaming 'let me outta here' the blank generation, we were out of our minds on the future and now i'm smoking blowback, spending time in the past with kim power.
  

there's no doubt i have upset a friend of mine, i feel awful about it, i don't know, christ, i am really sorry i never ever meant for that to happen, i don't really know how i did it, well i probably wrote something i should not have, that does happen occasionally, i get carried away and just write whatever drivel comes out, never really thinking to much about what it is i am writing, i don't like the thinking bit, i'm not that accomplished at it after my head injury, never was before either. i'm more a feel person. people often criticise me as i have no real logic, can't grasp lot's of things that people take for granted. when i was a kid i was picked upon because teachers could not understand why i didn't learn their subjects, in those days dyslexia was not really known about, i'm not sure if teachers hated me because they saw the potential and became frustrated or they just hated me, skool was brutal in those days.
after the brain injury my faculty for memory changed, i instantly forget things or i can't really grasp at things in a linear sequence. these are not excuses, i have no excuse but i know my brain is hardwired in a different way than others.  


how do you repair a friendship like that, i don't know, i don't have the skills, i'm barely skilled at making friends let alone keeping them but it's never my intention to distress my friends, i love them, they are very few and all quite brilliant individuals but they know me and what i am like, totally hopeless at the social skills needed to be a proper frend. i'm like an invisible imaginary friend, you have to do most of the work and just accept me with all my flaws and strange ways, i'm so sorry for that and hope my good points outweigh the bad. i don't know what my good points are really, i guess i'm loyal and if push comes to shove i've got your back covered, well i can't sell myself to ya...
i'm just me, captain mission, and i love you so don't feel bad about things old chap, try and forgive me, for i am an idiot savant with - out the savant part.
i'm glad all is well with you, i'm really happy that you seem to have found some happiness in life, it's really all i ever wanted for you, honestly, i loved the stuff you do and it enriched my life so much it killed me to know you were suffering. it really did, but that's just under the bridge now, that kind of bridge makes me think about building invisible bridges, the ones that connect people from distance, like i felt connected when i first heard those words you write, i didn't feel alone or alienated. i felt like there was some one else in the world who seemed to feel similar. i don't know, i got close like icarus did to his sun, i didn't set out for the sun, i think i would fly to venus given a choice, my wings just caught fire and i crashed but i can still float around sometimes, i just play those songs and gravity can't hold me. what's that all about. i know we are different, i know there's stuff about me that repulses the warlock hat and the banana skin boots, ha, i don't know man, i'm just surfing the waves as they come along, i gotta natural curiosity about all things except violence and drinking, the dumb drugs. i think i'm mostly harmless but i understand the mechanics of repulsion, attraction, repulsion, attraction.
i understand, i'm an anomaly, but if i could i would build that bridge right back to you somehow.  

DAVID BOWIE - BIG BROTHER LIVE

'transcendent' paints an interesting future, climate change has ravaged the planet yet we are doing okay, smart technological solutions are applied, life still finds a way, the geography has dramatically changed, countries are no longer subjected to traditional climates or landscapes. i'm enjoying descriptions of 'the reef' which is outside seville, a place where all the cars were dumped. baxter writes of a huge wall of cars, almost a graveyard.
he describes how the whole city became a dump, and as the people moved out refugees from north africa moved in, inhabiting the whole area, making use of the stuff that had been left and a whole new society evolves. there's new insects species evolving, they live on rust, eat it and turn it into something organic, there's a certain ingenuity humans bring to these extreme conditions and along with the way evolution works, it's extremely fast under adverse conditions, a couple of generations.
the communities that live in these places all exhibit slight 'hive' behaviours, they swarm, communicate by mimicry and hardly use language via speech. baxter's idea of hive society started in 'coalescent' around the fall of rome to AD2005 but he's taken the idea further and in transcendent which is set in two time periods, AD2047 and AD500000 we see at the end of time hives operating in incredibly imaginative yet in human ways, the evolution is incredible, the furthest reaches of space colonised by these hive societies where function is pre determined, where a handful of mothers act like queens and give birth to hundreds of children, where the hive is connected to all other hives, even off world, all serving the ultimate in human evolution, the transcendence, a human that has evolved to it's endpoint and now reflects on the past, the humanity that came before it, the ones that suffered and knew pain. and the transcendents would like to heal that wound, for how can they be free when they are aware of the suffering it took to reach the point they are at. 
i have to say i was reluctant to start baxter, he's to old school for me, classic science fiction, the stuff i read when i was 15, asimov, heinlien, ee doc smith, from the golden age, but this series has a certain grunge that i like, yet it is filled with ideas, baxter is an ideas man, i love that he's got the solutions, they are really elegant, i like his characters although people criticise them for being to dry, and they don't like the dialogue, they don't like the density. i like the story and i'm enjoying where it takes me, it's a series of possibilities where the future travels to the past and all humanity can be potentially healed.