pushing my way through the crowds, what's all the commotion, why's everyone lining up, i check the time, hours to kill, outside it's starting to change, clouds hurl over like massive blimps, i stick my hand in my pocket and pull out a twenty, swap it for a ticket, what am i doing, following people into a dark door way, don't eat that popcorn buddy, don't poison your mind with cola drinks and candy baby, candy i'm glad you're outta my life. well here comes the little man, wearing a bow tie, he's got some smart jazz shoes and a sensible shirt and look out little girl, we can wander through together, with those glamourous boots and your luscious smile, i wish you would fall in love with me, way back in the back seat, but you're with that ivy league jock dude, the one who has his arm wrapped around your hip. i sit at the back, finding some comfort in darkness, the screen lights up with previews, i close my eyes, what am i doing here, i should have left with my book but somehow it got left behind, instead i followed a whim and here i am, in cinematic landscapes of anonymous movies, what is this called, christ, you know it aint easy, do you really know how hard it can be, keeping hold of the details, the hundreds and thousands, the millions of bytes, i don't know what fugue state i'm in, the pull of that crowd, it just felt right and here i am, watching batman rising. i love the movies, i remember, i loved batman, the dark knight, i really love christopher nolan as a director and his brother is a brilliant writer, they took batman where it needed to go, they made it work, dragged it from children's things into something a shakespearean epic and as i watch the beauty in this film, the landscapes, the pace, the colour, the narrative, the arc, the way it all comes swinging around like a pendulum swing, man these guys have taken dickens 'tale of two cities' and made it into gotham city, the villain is just a single voice and the characters are no longer comic strip but real, as heroic deeds are done, as anarchy comes of age, occupy people occupy, and do what?
this is a superb film, but it's nothing without the other two, as a trilogy there is no better, it's just perfect. the final movement, the editing is magnificent, he's hypnotised you, you are in deep, under the spell, he's got you on a fish hook and then wham! bam! thank you man! 
the music is perfect which is always something they get wrong in film but hans zimmer nails it. this is not a film about a man in a bat suit, it's a film about a symbol. it's brilliant, in the darkness as time dissolves, i loose myself, escape for a moment, the power of story telling, new myths replacing old, new gods arise, old ones fall. but it's always just symbolic.
i wander out into light, sunbursts through huge massive dark rainclouds, the skies are fractured into rain and ominous tomorrows, the traffic is crazy, chaotic living again, follow the roads home, back home.

work place bullying, it's rife in australia and i am the antidote, slashing away at the middle management with my silver sword, hacking of limbs and heads from the department of fucking useless idiots, the department who dared send me a memo claiming they are spending $640 million in my area yet refuse to give two hours overtime to someone in an emergency situation. i sent it back suggesting they stop insulting me. the stupid department of ever changing names as a strategy to regain public trust, the department of morons and psychopaths where nepotism and envy reign supreme, the department that has just unveiled it's new 'stronger together' initiative while   really the only thing that changed is the letterhead. i will devote my life to exposing bullies wherever i find them. i hate bullies, especially adult ones. i don't fear them at all, i expose them one after another. that's all i seem to be doing in the department when i am not working with the four mental illness clients i have. imagine having a mental illness and being bullied, imagine having paranoia and in the care of a bully. bullies always are attracted to areas where they have power over others, they never pick on people stronger, only the mild and meek. i always let people underestimate me, i play mild and meek very well, it's my default setting but i can be strong when it comes to the infinite bullies the dept. mass produces endlessly and throws in my direction, no mercy bully. i'm your fucking karmic nightmare all at once in one huge great big confrontation where all the humiliation and degradation you have inflicted upon others comes right back at you, straight into your reality. bullies are insecure, cowards and weak willed little power trippers, they belong in the military, it should be compulsory punishment, if you're a bully join the army.
  

christ i am looking forwards to the new steve kilbey cd, it's called garage sutras and was recorded on garage band, which is a brilliant software program for musicians. i've heard a few songs from it, and it does sound excellent. this is one of australias most incredible and productive artistes, a real contemporary genius. not much to look forwards to these days but this is special.

back in the war zone, conflict and chaos, this time in my work environment where the strange elemental forces of repressed anger and envy are re-emerging, power plays, control issues and the clash of egos cut me in psychological warfare and weird mind games. no wonder my clients are paranoid.
i have to fight this battle head on, i've been skirting around, laying low, trying not to attract attention, i've been supportive, nurturing and as professional as possible but now i'm under attack from the same form of madness that infects this service, some weird human power game, envy, jealousy, maybe a little fear that i know my stuff, that i have a background that is unquestionably more advanced than my co workers and managers yet it is rarely used or considered an asset, it all is reduced to fear.
it's a boring game, a dance i am forced into every now and then, a dance i don't want to do but every now and then someone arises with a strange need to provoke me.
i will have to sharpen my blades, for battle is the name of the game today. i will invoke achilles, it seems apt. 

dream - i'm with a stranger, a man unidentified, he's australian, larger than me, he speaks in an bogon type australian accent, we are in a police station attached to an airport, we have been busted for drugs. he's the one who is carrying them, i'm unfortunately unlucky enough to be travelling in his company, how the hell did that happen.

we have to fill in a form, it's a massive sheet of poster size paper, he's whispering to me, 'it's okay, no problem, i know what to do, just fill it in like this,' he draws a line across, codes, he ticks some letters already written on the sheet, he draws a symbol and smiles. i follow, i just fill in my details, no codes or signs, i feel confidently that this is not my problem. 

the police send him away in handcuffs, 'it's okay, i'll be out in no time,' he calls.

'no time' i think aloud, 'no time.'

i wake up.

mad rush like a dark version of hugh grant, hugh the eccentric i race around five minites before a presentation is due, my memory stick contains everything i need to make my impression upon my unsuspecting colleagues and workers, this is captain mission the professional, loosing his marbles as i saved an apple document that can't be printed on the pc so here i am racing through the town square to the apple shop where nerds in white shirts and looking immaculate in their pristine temple will assist transfer my document. i am cast adrift, my career about to implode, i am thinking outside the box as i stumble in all washed up and cast myself at the head high priest behind his genius bar temple, i am ready to be saved.
the man, boy, nerdotype, he smiles and blesses me by sticking the usb in and saving the report i have worked on all morning in the correct file extension.
stupid pcs, i'll always be an apple man.
i have two minites, 'i race to the printers, jumping over prams, push chairs, racing past women laden down with groceries, pushing through the skool holiday children, the old people, the spectators turn their heads, who is that black figure, with the om sign on his chest, he is some sort of weird superhero, not quite a superman, not quite a spiderman, om man, on a mission, i run, sprinting outside the huge complex down the street towards the chemist clutching my usb stick, turning a corner like the flash at a right angle i am faster than light, carefully trying not to fall over myself i burst through into office works, and hand the man my usb, 'print this, high quality paper white.' i say between gasps of breaths. i'm feeling the effects of endorphins hitting my brain, christ it's amazing, is this what it feels like to be a superhero, om man.
im a few seconds i am racing back to the car, i drive along at the speed of time, i have to get there in minus ten minites, i can do this, the phone rings, 'mission where are you?'
'i'm there, right next to you,' i pull up and race through the front door, barging in upon the crowded table where they all sit staring at me.
i throw the report down on the paper and they pass it around.
'very impressive' someone said.
nods of approval. it's just a piece of paper with writing on, it will just sit in a file somewhere and no one will ever look at it again. i sit down, breath out, om man's identity safe. 
'you could have printed it out here' someone mentions.
it's true, om man got carried away on endorphin high.
'yeah but my entrance would not have been as impressive.'
and thus started the big meeting, words are swapped, stories told, information given and time passes away never to return. i rather be in new mexico. 

a sixteen year old boy out with his girlfriend in kings cross, the seedy part of sydney some say, where the nightclubs are, where the sex shops sit between pizza joints and strip clubs, it's the backpacker nexus, scantly clad girls roam the streets looking for action, drunken males revel in neon shadows and nights out with their friends, it's a strange place, not a beautiful place, after dark.
about ten o clock, way before the madness sets in, way before the deranged alcohol effected are prowling for the next level in banality something happens, not even a street hassle, not a conflict just an act of mindless violence and absolute horror. a man just punched the kid in the face and runs away. 
the boy is rushed to hospital, he's just left kings school, he's in kings cross and he's king hit, in a coma, his parents turn the machine off the next day on doctors advice. the perpetrator gets away, slips into the crowd and disappears. 
i'm watching this unfold on the news, the parents are just devastated but they make an appeal, the mother is pale and obviously in shock, the father just breaks your heart. i cried my eyes out. couldn't stop, how elegantly the man spoke, how poised and compassionate he appeared, acknowledging he was still in the denial phase, he pleaded for the attacker to come forth and confess, he said, 'i know deep down in your soul you need to do this,' just so quietly pleading humanity, like a whisper to the man that murdered his son.
i felt ashamed, inadequate and selfish. part of me just wanted to hug these poor people, this family, strangers, his sister spoke a few words and then broke down, and i looked at the picture of the young kid, just a babe, his room had a drum kit and a guitar, and his last words to both his mum and dad, 'i love you.'
broke my heart, just really got to me.

don't waste time, go out an buy this book now, it is brilliant and madeline miller is a lady i'd love to meet, a real writer's writer and it's her first novel.
the beauty in her words is electrifying, the Iliad through patroclus and his love for achillies, told over time, it's simply a magnificent book and that's all that needs to be said.

a man watched a chrysalis, it was beautiful, hanging there attached to a branch on a small tree, glimmering like a neptune sunset. he was supposed to be working hard, he loved his work, he was a master and he had responsibilities but the cocoon was mesmerising and as he gazed at it he could see something rippling inside, something was stirring. it wasn't that the man had nothing to do but sometimes you get distracted, something simple can capture your attention for hours, time just slips away as you watch it before you.

he watched the creature pierce the chrysalis, it was a butterfly in there, he'd caught a glimpse through what appeared to be a translucent skin, the colours looked vibrant and vital, it was stunning but it was struggling to break out. 

the man was a good man, at heart he was a great man and he could not bear the idea of suffering, a creature suffering was his suffering and so he thought he should assist, he looked around and found a stick which he used to pry the skin of the cocoon a little, thus helping the creature break free from inside. it literally fell out before him, crawling along upon his hand. 

the most magnificent wings began to open, they were orange and red with a vivid black boundary and what appeared to be an array of golden light as the sun caught them. how magnificent he thought, it really is beautiful, but then he realised something was wrong, the wings were perfect but the creature couldn't walk correctly, it had no strength in its muscles.

oh my, what have i done the man thought, i really thought i was helping but the poor butterfly needed to break open that cocoon itself, for that must be how it develops its muscle strength. the man put the butterfly down, he returned to his work, and he knew that he must let go of all responsibility, guilt, blame and thoughts he attached to the butterfly for it had only existed to teach him this and he loved it for that, and the butterfly knows this. 

and that is the end.

well thanks to a remarkable piece of investigative journalism by canadian writer donna la framboise who exposes the united nations intergovernmental panel of climate change we can now put the scandal to rest. history repeats itself and we are currently in the cycle of spanish inquisition, skeptics replace heretics, deniers are hung drawn and quartered, science becomes the catholic church and the united nations the inquisitor general. 
in media, skeptical people are vilified, abc journalists declare deniers should have the word stamped upon their foreheads so that their children can know who betrayed them, debate is stifled, children brainwashed at skool, and the labour green alliance of australia hijack the democratic right of the australian public and instigate a completely useless new tax while giving themselves a pay rise. 
all because a handful of 'scientists' have engineered an idea taken up by the united nations in a desperate attempt to install a world government. 
let me just spell it out for you skeptics do not deny pollution is bad, we do not deny that human beings should not pollute the waters and atmosphere, we do not advocate the continuing use of finite resources. what we deny is that the united nations have not been honest with us, your governments have not been honest and your media has lied. this is a controlled agenda, not a conspiracy, it's factual, it's actually scientific. 
let's listen to the other side for a change, that never happened, the other side were vilified and humiliated and bullied by the experts, did you ever actually hear a denier get a fair chance to actually explain why they disbelieve the agenda. the skeptics just want a fair hearing, so here is a link i suggest you listen. it's a podcast, and it's very enlightening.


http://www.corbettreport.com/interview-434-donna-laframboise/


okay, have a listen and make your mind up. did we know this stuff, when these fucking political people go to conferences do they even ask questions on our behalf or do they just lord it up and come back with brand new extortion methods?
it's a scam folks, a fucking scam.
i'm very glad there's one journalist out there doing their job, she should be given a medal. believe it or not she is in australia promoting her book, however i can tell you right now, you won't see her on the abc or read about her in the sydney morning herald. 
now tell me about a media inquiry?
no body expects an inquisition, once upon a time i would be burnt at the stake along with the others who dare question the trend of the new left wing. let me just say, the left wing are the right wing now, their methods are exactly the same, any party that is globalist shares the same ultimate agenda, the best thing australia can do is distance itself from the un and become a manufacturing nation, innovative and sustainable, it should focus on self sufficiency and it's own identity as a beautiful country filled with wonderful diversity. the idea of a globalised government is a step towards the mcdonalds of governments, lets keep australia a good clean healthy organic salad.

transformation - kilbey and kennedy

just finished 'the man from primrose lane' a first novel by a true crime writer who merges factual narrative with fiction and then midway through takes you into a completely different genre that i can't talk about without spoiling the story. this is a great first novel but it's hard going once you get to the twist midway through. 
it begins as a love story, then segues into a mystery with a protagonist who sounds a lot like the author around the murder of the man from primrose lane. 
the novel is well constructed, it's very adult and somewhat violent and graphic, there's scenes in there that are quite disturbing but it's a good read and worthwhile. it does need a sequel to explain the mystery surrounding the cat, but i think that's another genre.
i noticed a number of people on amazon reviewing the book did not get what the cat was, i got it straight away but it's not really well explained, just like the movie prometheus its given away in a random line.
the philosophical idea works well and if you want a page turner that will also surprise you this is the one. but just like prometheus if your not in the right frame of mind it can disappoint. 

it started as quite a wonderful day, the cold bites through the bone, birds flash their colours and the skies are radiant blue with a few odd shaped clouds hanging there like white chaos art, pan ready for our beach walk spinning around skipping like a lamb, i'm wearing my new pants and my captains hat, dressed for a day of lunacy and piracy, we wander down greeting the good people of newport as i anticipate my coffee and a flick through the daily news. the new coffee shop is called 'the garden cafe' it's rather wonderful in a strange way as it's actually some ones office, an architect called pheobe who makes the best soup (try the zucchini) i have ever had, but morning i need my latte and news fix.
i'm flicking through the usual stuff, reading between the lines, cross reading, tension here, stresses there, trouble turmoil, carbon blues and suddenly there on page five a small little column. 'politicians pay rise.'
the day seems to swirl and fall down the plug hole,
how the hell can these idiots tax us one day and the very next give themselves a pay rise. 
i later read senator nick zenophon who actually sounds like a character from the simpsons is one of two politicians who oppose the new increase which is around $5500 remember they already gave themselves a $45000 pay rise a few months ago. jesus, i don't mind people earning cash, i don't really mind if people clean up for doing their job, but these clowns should be paying us for fucking up the whole country, dragging our children into unbelievable debt that they and their children will be paying for. debt is slavery man, debt is fucking the very thing that keeps us enslaved,i rage to whoever is unfortunatly within earshot, how can australians allow this to happen, there should be rioting on the streets, what happened to the clever country?
there's no real answer to this, i think sometimes as we spin towards a new phase in evolution and consciousness, one that liberates us from the illusions, the illusionary world gets stronger and more absurd, it's a death throw. 
i look up, it's cold, the suns out, clouds darker, a storm front on the rise. pan and i wander down to the beach, we watch the wild waves breaking, there's no surfers this morning, to messy, lot of chop, the crash of surf roars through the morning and the morning roars through me. pans just wants to go home, so we do.  

when the peace bomb exploded i was at a friends house having dinner, she was serving caramelised babylonian pears with neptune honey with fig ice cream on the side. we were just getting ready to eat it when her phone let of a beep. 
i don't usually carry a phone with me, and i could see her cogs working, turning away as she attempted some inner dialogue to work out if she should check the message and interrupt our meal, 'excuse me, i better check and see, it could be the hospital.'
i understood, i'm not given to offence by people and technology, there's much more to worry about that messages and phones interrupting meals, so i nodded, 'no problem, i can wait.'
she hunted through her handbag and pulled out a white iphone, then with that elegant swipe she must have retrieved her message and read it. as her eyes followed the text her expression changed, from casual and relaxed to petrified.
'hey, what's up?'
'there's been a terrorist attack, a bombs just been detonated in the city.'
i jumped up and ran to the television, she had spent months without a tv but recently bought a digital screen which activated as soon as i found the remote, i punched in the news channel.
a reporter was in the middle of a live interview, she looked very nervous. alice and i watched together our faces almost touching, i tried to look at the background but it was just smoke or dust. the presenter was in mid sentence, '...not sure who's responsible  or why they should do anything, it's not as if our troops have much longer in afghanistan, they are due to fly back tomorrow. the taliban have signed a peace deal, there's peace in the middle east, europian politics seems settled, asia has just seen a massive movement towards growth and prosperity, even africa is a continent at total peace.'
a disembodied voice asks a question, 'tracy, can you tell us anything about the target, is there much damage?'
'yeah, well to be honest the detonation was just outside town hall, the haze of what appears to be a low hovering fog has made it difficult to see what damage has been caused to the structure but i have heard the firemen and state emergency rescue workers will be coming out in a few moments and i will be talking to their commander of operations. he will be able to update us.'
'thank you. if you have just joined us we are coming live from sydney's town hall, where there has been some form of terrorist attack, our reporter tracy shaw is there on the spot and will be talking to the commander of operations in a few moments. tracy, how are you holding up? you have been on the scene from the beginning, covering a demonstration close to town hall that was turning violent, then this happened.'
tracy looks at the camera and does something sexy with her hair, then she launches into an earnest reply, 'yes tom, the crew and i had been covering the union protest, it was supposed to be a peaceful demonstration and about 2 thousand people turned up and were walking through the cbd, by the time they reached george street some sort of scuffle erupted between a group of anarchists and the police, a police man was hit in the face with a brick and a few molotov cocktails set alight some parked cars. by the time reinforcements had arrived it had turned into a full scale riot and then right across the street we heard this explosion, i brought the crew over and we are gradually piecing out what has occurred.'
'okay thanks for that tracy, and perhaps if you have just joined us at home you can run through what we know so far, for the viewers.'
'yes, at approximately 3 pm an explosion ripped through town hall leaving a huge cloud of gas and smoke, it's dispersing actually now, being blown away, there's commander falcon, he is the head of state emergency, let's just have a quick update.'
in the background alice and i see the town hall building begin to appear, it looks okay.
'commander falcon, can you tell us if there have been any casualties?'
'no beautiful, nothing, no one was hurt, it's just a gas baby, life's a gas.'
'errr, do you know who planted the bomb?'
'some peace loving dudes must have planted it i guess,' he waves at the camera and makes a peace sign.
'commander are you alright?'
'yeah baby, i'm freaking fantastic.'
some firemen start to walk out of the building, they are laughing and hugging, some passer by starts to kiss a girl he is standing next to, and suddenly the camera falls over but we can now see people on the steps of town hall, they are all smiling and happy, they hug one another. some one rushes over and stands the camera upwards, this time it faces down the street where the remnants of the riot are all shaking hands and hugging, cars are stopping and people jumping from the buses, they all look deliriously happy. 
alice and i try another channel, we turn it to sbs where there are similar scenes in london, paris, new york and tokyo, then we see the west bank where israelis and arabs are dancing together, we see hindus and muslims embracing in deli and we see chinese and tibetans bowing to one another. the voice over is in italian and neither of us understand what she is saying but when they show an shot of london an english voice takes over, 'yes the outbreak of peace seemed to be generated from these various explosive non lethal devices that have been planted all over the world, the effects are amazing as you can see, enemies are now friends, war has stopped almost everywhere, we are still uncertain who exactly is responsible for this but it's really quite beautiful, i mean life is beautiful, it's just so fucking beautiful.'
alice holds the remote and turns the tv off, she throws it across the room onto the sofa, then she leans in and looks at me with her big green eyes sparkling like friendly radioactivity, she giggles and brushes me with her lips gently upon mine, 'kiss me' she whispers.
'what about the ice cream?'

when i had nothing i had everything, now i'm empty i am full, when i was at my worst i was my best and when i was best i was worse, now i am nothing i am everything, once i was everything i became nothing, i stole the night and i offer the light.
once i was lost only to be discovered, obscured by complexity simplicity becomes recovered, bereft of meaning it became known, with suffering i may have grown,  in the heat of a fight i offer the light.
now i am complete i will diminish, once i begin only to finish, halfway through life, we celebrate the end, we love our enemy more as we loose our friend, i flicker, extinguished only reborn bright, you gave me life and i offer the light.

celebration in velvet, crashing complex, the unseen weaves into shadow, between without, within. narcissistic beasts stay still long enough to watch their reflections in water pools, admiration of form and surface beauty, what is reflected is elemental.

imagine the woods, moss carpets the floor, ferns at a slightly raised level spread out across the filtered lights, lichen symbiotic, you can feel the solid vertical trunks of ancient trees, their wide based and roots that sprawl under the floor sinking deeper into the nature, yet above a mirror of synaptic sparks connects information exchange, the earth intelligence, the cosmic divine. 

whisper in bird song, was it a call or a cry? rustle and bustle trees live in slow time, they know everything.

celebration in velvet, night had come down like the curtain, stars sparkle above, some nocturnal image of myth flickers in darkness, the beast of bad dreams and history. shadows have angles, they appear within shades of judgements, the very same forest, applied difference in light, in shadow, in eye. 

the difference between good and bad, the perspective is shifting all the time, the framework evolves, the complex rift between thought and action, the road to hell is lined with good intention.

the protector of trees has only one purpose, it does not defy logic, reason or love. we are all stardust made, ashes and dust, and ashes again so careful with those hacks eugenics, dna activation is sequential designed beyond time and space by methods unknown.

i must thank some readers for their comments, i do appreciate them, even though some ended up in my spam folder i tried to publish them, although in some cases they were quite old and i have probably pissed you off or upset you, enough for you to no longer follow me, that's cool, i understand, sorry, i don't mean to.
anyways for those that send messages, thanks, sometimes they get lost, i have lot's of trouble with blogger it sometimes looses my posts and comments. 
i have never encouraged commentators, as the blog is primarily my diary or journal, my ideas, projections and thoughts, dreams, fears and sketchbook for my unconscious, i am very surprised people do read and follow me, if you can grasp what i am attempting to do you will understand but none the less, they do encourage me and feed my requirements as a writer, which i guess is to be read.
if you are a new reader please understand that the blog is not me, it can't be, it's just my writing. i'm not out to promote anything, no ideology or compliance to doctrine, everyone should find their own truths. mine spill out as part of a writing process, sometimes it's authentic, sometimes i am in a persona i am exploring, an aspect of myself, most of the time i am not using my mind, it's just flowing from my muse.
even when i'm expounding an idea, it's just an idea, i am not attached to it any more than any other, i don't know if i am right or wrong, i don't care if my idea is good or bad, it just is what it is, an idea, fleeting through my head at the time. i believe everything is fiction, only unconditional love is truth but i also know there are things beyond love, areas of space and time that can be transcended, forces that are cosmic and in our humanity we can barely perceive them but we can feel them intuitively. magick is a way to do this but generally traditional spirituality offers many paths. i believe that god has two aspects, the unknowable which is there, and the knowable which is manifested as the goddess. this universe is the goddess, it is comprised of information, diversity and life. it's purpose is hardwired in all living things, to love unconditionally or at least evolve to a point where it can love all creation including it's enemy in the way jesus may have taught. these acts of love forgiveness and grace allow the goddess to unite with the unknown god and this uniting is divinity. and in divinity we escape suffering, duality becomes the singularity.
that's what i believe anyway, the mind is a trick, a tool that ironically is not needed to know itself, in fact it can't be used, the way it knows itself, that's why the ego is dissolved through spiritual practice in most good disciplines although there are more painful fast cuts it's not recommended to try them. through the mind the universe is infinite possibilities and variation, everything that can be imagined becomes. 
let me just say now, i am still struggling with this process, it's always evolving, always changing as my circumstances change, the ego is a tricky character but i know mine fairly well and i can trick it back these days. 
i don't know that much despite my readings, but i intuit that love is really all you need, unless you're an explorer like me. if you have seen the film prometheus there's a scene at the end where the female character makes an unusual decision. (don't read on if you have not seen it)
there she is having escaped certain death, she's given an option, she can return onwards or go further into the rabbit hole and attempt to get an answer. her choice is the same as the one i would make. i liked that bit, it would be the same decision i would make. 

well 'el narco' left me totally bewildered, a civil war in mexico so that bored yuppies in america can snort their coke and crystal, the war on drugs is not really a war on drugs its a war upon poor communities, the solution is controlled and regulated production of a natural product, marijuana, the prescribed medical use of pure cocaine and the continued ban on ice and crystal but decriminalisation and rehabilitation for addicts, these are mostly chemicals, even cocaine is a chemically manufactured drug these days, although it contains plant material which has been diluted down. 
a poor farmer in the mexico mountains should be paid by the government a reasonable wage to produce his weed and the government can sell it with a tax and put the profit into community. 
i'm confused why this don't happen immediately. what inept force is at work that stop people making good decisions. why can't the manufacture of weapons be banned globally, arms banned, in five years no one needs be killed by a gun, a missile, or a projectile. some one's making a shit load of cash and probability informs me it's the very same governments that fight the war on drugs.

im outraged by the fact the government wants to fine any business that puts up a 'say no to carbon tax' poster. the proposed fine is one million dollars.
this is fucking disgusting and an insult to any one who is interested in freedom of expression, weather you agree to the tax or not, this law is bad news and for me indicates why this government is the worst i have ever seen. 
if this don't outrage you, then here's another reason.
i work with people who are on the fringe. they are people who have severe mental health issues, and to be honest, they don't get that much, maybe they get a meal, a little money to spend each day, $5-$7 and occasionally they get to have an outing, a drive up the coast but the rest of their lives they are stuck in sheltered workshops or at home where they watch tv and try to keep calm, as the world is just far to complex and fearful for them. 
i get a reasonable wage, it's not a job i do for the money, i do it because i'm good at it and i like it.
i received a memo yesterday from the government saying that they were giving increased funding to the area i work in, $650 million extra.
my client has a birthday and requested he have an outing where he has one on one supervision, he does not get on with the other clients in the house and often they send him into an increased level of anxiety and paranoia. he wants to have a train ride into the city and wander around town hall with me. i was told that the service can't afford it.
this is typical of the way 'labour' works, spending money on services at a management level, creating a big government while announcing their incentives and generosity yet that cash never gets to the clients, it's spent of fucking idiots behind desks who generate paperwork ad nausium.
yeah the liberals had their bad points, i hated howard and downer and abbot but fuck me, at least they had a little spark of integrity whereas what we have now is a terrible display of arrogance and waste. yeah you may be getting a $900 bonus for your new born baby but as we slide into massive debt that very child will be paying for that bonus times a hundred. stupidity rules at the moment here in australia, maybe we have globalised governments, the rest of the planets representatives are equally as ridiculous.
the other main topic is the boats peoples who are arriving, while i personally don't mind people entering australia, it's a big place, i do think the process worked better and was safer under howards government. i didn't at the time, but given what's happened now with the hundreds who drown, i have changed my mind. if gillard had any sense she would concede that the libs got that part off the border protection immigration policy correct. it wasn't perfect but it did save life. 
what's amazing in the heat of all this they blame abbot for it. unbelievable, he's not the fucking government, if anyones to blame it's the greens who continually refuse to accept the reality of the complex situation and hold out for a utopian solution that will not arrive.
i even heard one person in government suggest abbot enjoyed the fact that people are drowning. i mean come on, that's a fucking outrageous thing to say, but do the mighty moral left demonstrate the way they did with howard, do they march in the streets and make demand's, nope, instead they want to ban people demonstrating if it's against them, control the media if it's against them and generally carry on as if they represent the public. the public are furious, businesses are closing down faster than they are opening, states are going bust, taxes up, prices up, there is no more manufacturing, our resources are being sold to china and bought back, and now people are being fined for having a poster in their window.
election now!
not fucking happy julia

old dr. crack you rascal, i find out you spent your last night with a shaman woman from the amazon, how appropriate that she was with you in death.
you would have loved the clouds this morning, all azure and saturated in that diffuse light, hanging around waiting for a new condition.
you touched a lot of people old friend, you would be surprised how you effected people with your knowledge and wisdom, you were loved old friend. that's a beautiful thing. i spoke with your brother this morning, the sensible one, he invited me to the wake, i declined, it just seems so civilised having drinks in a restaurant, surrounded by grief and grieving, where as you and i had a strange understanding and i know you would hate all that malarky, but know this old friend, a lot of people loved you because of who you were to them, the wise, generous, larger than life character, you helped them all with advice and legal matters, finance shit and that bullshit, everyone acknowledged that. me, i just loved you cos you knew it was all bullshit and you loved looking at clouds and the surf. you were a bit lost in the woods dr. crack, you were finding your way out and eventually did. anyway's i went out this morning and watched the clouds, they were magnificent, i watched the waves breaking over avalon, magnificent and i read the usual bad news, and i had a caramel coffee in your honour, fuck me man, it's abhorrent to pollute coffee like that, you were slightly demented in that way. 
i miss you.

40 years ago ziggy arrives, i have been listening to the anniversary edition new master and can't say how impressed i am, i mean the original was pretty brilliant, but this version is really like hearing it anew, the sound is so clear and the nuances off the musicianship shines through. i feel an incredible relationship with this cd, it's part of my history, but to hear this mix is really an exercise in appreciation.
the backing vocals leap out as being outstanding, i'm not sure how they technically do this but it works so effectively. the backing vocalists are bowie, ronson and dana gillespie and they really are quite exceptional.
ziggy is a bit like 'dark side' everyone has two copies, the vinyl and the cd, but it really is worth while getting hold of the new master, it will surprise you in many ways. they don't make bands like this any more, although the church attain the same level of mastery, don't believe me, you were not at the enmore.

george harrison

just watched a fantastic video of a VH1 interview, apparently it was his last ever performance as he played a few songs. but what is really interesting is the content of his dialogue. 
here it is, please listen to it.

i have the unwanted responsibility of breaking bad news to people, as i wander into town i'm flocked by familiar faces who offer sympathy, tears and hugs, grown men weeping openly as they embrace me, 'you knew him better than any of us, what happened?'
i can't answer the questions but i do say we will have to have a big dinner after the funeral where we get together and celebrate the mighty life of the mighty man. 
yeah that goes down well, i break the news to the people in the bookshop, 'ah, he was a lonely man really' they say.
yeah they are right, he was lonely.
they are saddened.
i have to walk into the butcher, a place dr. crack used to hang out quite a lot, it was something he loved, he would drive all over the city looking for hidden away specialists in animal meat, it made him happy. the butchers are shocked, really shocked and in my head i'm thinking, 'but you chop up dead things all day, you must have come to terms with death and life, all the poor animals you hack away at must have taught you something, but these guys suddenly start sobbing.
'does he owe you money,' i say confused at this sudden display of affection.
later a group of people ask me if he was drinking at home when he died. i'm sure he was, i can't say exactly, but he loved his wines, two bottles a night, he loved drinking, i like smoking spliffs, we were an odd couple of clowns, total opposing forces but with a lot of respect for each other. 'maybe he took some pills and ended it' someone asks.
'yeah maybe he did.'
i have to retreat back to mission control, it's to much for me, slightly surreal, as i drive home i start laughing for some strange reason, grief i guess, it comes in strange ways, i can't fucking understand it, it's a beautiful day, why's everyone so miserable, he would have hated that.  

morning comes with it's inevitability, it's a tidal force and sorrow won't stop it, nothing can except death i guess, it's strange as usually i would be meeting dr.crack and we would read the papers and find the small print, between the lines.
reading newspapers is and art form, very few people actually have the skill to decipher news, you need a critical mind, you need a holistic vision that connects unrelated pieces and most of all you need to read the counter piece which you can only do by knowing the memetics of the writers. crack and i enjoyed this as our minds struggled to unravel the lies and deception. most news i have worked out is actually two and a half years old, that's why newspapers are dying. i recently read in one newspaper how james lovelock has said global warming is nowhere what we thought it was and he was wrong, and climate change advocates have based all their research on models which function only to what information they are fed, it's not science. he had actually said this over two years ago but it made the newspaper last week. then yesterday there was an article about the civilian death toll in afghanistan and Iraq under obama being far higher than bush, how this was all hushed up and drone warfare seemed to have less accuracy than conventional warfare due to the disconnect. this was news, i knew about this over two years ago, we often wondered how people seemed to sweep this under the carpet.
the air is cold, it's fresh and my nose and fingers start loosing heat fast, the dog is happy to run free, the surf is gorgeous, beautiful sets rolling in, a perfect winters day basking in that light that comes at the angles that penetrate everything, and i feel alright with the world, my friend has gone but he really was prepared, i led him to some sort of light, we would talk often about krishna, he loved india, he loved indians, he was a hindu more than a buddhist.
down the road i meet my friend evan and his newborn son ryder, we decide that ryder should hear 'dark side of the moon' evan and i share a love for this music, we agree it represents humanity and should really be sent into space. we discuss dr. cracks strange exit, and i wonder if he will reincarnate, i think so, i think he would come back in some form, i'll know him if i encounter him, i will know it from the eyes.
the day marches onwards and the machine that keeps his body alive is switched off, i choose not to be there when that happens, i want to remember him the way we said goodbye, outside mission control, watching a raven after a lovely morning as friends. he was enamoured by what most people would not want to look at, a big black bird chewing a little piece of intestine from roadkill, i felt weird because i can't accept the cars place in nature, and for me it was a philosophical cul de sac but crack just watched this magnificent bird following it's inclinations, free from controls, free from anything except the act of survival. he liked that in nature, the raw brutal honesty, uncomplicated, no hidden agenda, true to itself whereas i just saw a messenger. 
maybe that's just far to much significance, who can know, i don't but my intuition seemed to know, and that's what counts really, my heart has led me into some strange places, my brain can't be relied upon but my intuition is excellent and always gets me through. the only time i am disappointed is when i don't trust it. 
the future comes now, it's carried with times arrow, there's no reversing what happens because we are in this dual universe where the clock tick tocks and the planets revolve in linear orbits, but the future is just a wave, in a beautiful ocean of luxurious life, every breath affirms, life finds a way to move, backwards sideways or forwards, it's all the same thing, raven, squid and man, all the same, expression of diversity, intelligence, consciousness. death is not the end, how can it be, energy just converts and changes, the soul will return to the source, our garments are not ourselves, and in return we will be free from the strange sorrow life brings in knowing.
all we can do is aspire to love, there is nothing more noble than love save forgiveness. these two are inextricably linked. 

we had spoken seriously about it for the last few weeks, he mentioned several times he had seen enough of humans, he was tired of it all, he was a big and generous soul who lived way beyond his means, he was a shark fisherman at heart, not a shark killer because he loved all creatures but of humans he had little or no respect. he loved me. he spoke about that often, asking me to move to cape tribulation in his big house, he figured we would have a simple life, be free, we spoke about how we both need a frontier town where there are no laws, only the real ones. recently he spoke about his esoteric life, he had dreamed of the gossamer webs connecting nature to man, he told me about how a book called 'i walked with jesus' once saved his life, although he was never religious or pious, quite the opposite he was a transgressive anarchist.
he disliked humans and he could not reconcile the fact he loved me, we became the best of friends and i made him laugh.
he introduced me to his fellowship one time last week, they were at a fancy palm beach restaurant drinking champagne and being reckless and i walked through, getting looks from everyone, being very out of place. he stood up and raised his glass and said to the table, and all in the vicinity, 'this is the most intelligent man i have ever met.'
embarrassing and not true, you know that because you read me, but he was serious and i joined the table and everyone was curious in me, asking me questions. i had just turned up to drive him home as he had been drinking all day, i did that for him occasionally. one of the people there was the producer of roger waters film 'the wall' he was with his dog, we chatted a bit about film. i told him to see 'dead man.'
get this, he wanted to die, he was ready, he said to me 'mission, i have just had enough of it all, apart from coffee with you, there's nothing to look forwards to any more, and i can't bear to watch what's happening to australia.'
saturday morning he dropped me off outside mission control in that beaten up black bmw, we sit in the car watching a raven pulling flesh from some roadkill, we watch, talk a little about ravens, i say, 'i'd like to have a pet raven.'
'they are very intelligent birds.'
and i think but don't say it, 'they are the messengers of death' and i wonder who they are here for.
i knew. deep down inside i knew but i couldn't say anything, i think you knew anyway.
later in the evening around 8 o clock i think about my friend, i think how he must be alone at home, watching channel 9 because he thinks it's the least depressing channel, or reading his book about the man who rows from yorkshire to france, and i think something's not quite right, so i fire off my text, a private joke about lizards and dinosaurs, a throwback to david icke whom he came to loathe as well, and i hope it makes him laugh but i couldn't feel it, and it's all feel with me, he was gone, rushed to hospital, brain dead, they keep him hooked to a machine until his daughter arrives from singapore, and then they will turn of the machine. tomorrow morning. 
but my friend had died a week or so before, i knew it, he wanted to go, he weighed up all his options and he said goodbye to me in his own way, and i will miss him, because he was one of a kind, a rare man, he was my friend. a good friend, slightly tortured by love and the various women in his life.
everyone in town knew him, people couldn't work out how we could be friends, a guy like that and me, people were frightened of him, people respected him, people were confused by him and they were amused by him but the one thing they could never figure out is how come we were such good friends. a man who could spend $500 on a bottle of wine, a man who would think nothing of giving hundreds of dollars to a waitress as a tip, a man who would take me out for a night that would cost $5000, old dr.crack had many strange sides, he was an enigma with his games and strange machinations. the more i knew him the more there was to know, he was prolific, he could talk about anything from the behaviour of insects to quantum physics and ancient indian temples, he was a roadie for ike and tina turner when he was a kid, as an adult he was the highest paid legal mind in australia, he's a gourmet chef and traveller of extreme environments, his favourite place was antarctica and one day we were going to the amazon together.  
his place was in the bush out at bayveiw, fantastic place, filled with art even his speakers were works of art, sculptures that belonged in a gallery, he owned a porche but preferred driving his old beaten up bmw, he always paid for my coffee. 
i met him 20 years ago, we were thrown together in some bizarre cult, we just connected and in all those years we never disconnected, sure there were times when i never saw him for a year or so, but eventually when we met again it was always with some new adventure on the horizon, he would just kidnap me, with his wild evenings out and take me on these crazy nights, he was a man of experience with the poets eye, he would watch clouds, surf and stop to admire a tree or wildlife, he was old school, an australian version of hemingway, a man with a huge appetite, and like me, he had seen to much. 
what do you do when some one like that leaves, let them go i guess, we were due to have coffee together this morning, like we have for the last few months, but he's left this world for the next, and from now on i guess i'll be having coffee alone, vale old friend, i love you dude, we had some amazing nights, good laughs and talks, and i guess we never made it to the amazon together to try those frogs and hang out with the cat people. i'll see you on the other side, and we will have much to talk about, we will have all the answers we need. my dear friend.

orloff, dr. crack, my attorney, my strange enigmatic friend. i surf the galactic highways, i meet beings from every world you can imagine, some pass into the night, some stay and some leave. sometimes you just connect with others, i connected with you deeply, profoundly, you were very intelligent, enough to know the game was just a game, enough to laugh like buddha at our place in the universe, i love your inability to reconcile your best friend was a black jew you loved deeply as much as i love you. 
hanging on in earthly form i know you are gone, with your mystery into the larger one. vale tim clarke.
that raven we saw together, i know what it was, i understood, yesterday evening when i sent that text, the one about the 'university veloceraptors inviting us for dinner' i knew then, i know far to much but that's okay, i don't mind anymore because what is knowing but unknowing, what is an answer without a question. and i am like that now, i'm going to miss you old chap but i am glad we shared such incredible times, you were a kind of brilliant man in a way. another genius, and friend, vale.

as i'm reading about mexico's drug warlords i hear on the news the mexican police have captured his son, only to later admit they got an innocent car dealer instead and may have to let him go. i guess the whole truth will be obscured for a while, who really knows what bed the authorities sleep in, until drugs become legalised and take a legitimate place amongst peoples choices there can be no real control over the fall out. el narco has a chapter called, 'faith' which describes how the spiritual or more accurate 'religious' beliefs have become entwined with el narco. it starts with the church, but spills out into it's sub branches, just like santeria is a catholic hybrid in the caribbean, a mix of folk lore and catholicism, el narco has it's own religions perversion, which has spilled out into poorer farming communities and the populations who are not part of el narco.
el narco donates millions to communities, it employes hundreds and the poor receive more direct assistance from them than they do the government, so herein lies the problem. el narco are the second biggest earners after the oil industry, in fact el narco saved mexico from the gfc.
the kingpins, the barons all have shrines built, often these cost thousands and come complete with religious icons and services, they even have a patron saint. jesus malverde, who supports the poor from exploitation, he even comes with his own history. bizarre that this industry 'el narco' is considered part of jesus malverde's domain, yet when pressed for an explanation el narco defines jesus malverde as akin to robin hood. the bottom line is if you're starving you don't care about where the bread that feeds you comes from. poor people don't have the luxury of choice the west does.
the government has an obligation to look after it's poor and marginalised, it's what allows capitalism to work effectively, it was never the capitalist agenda to hoard and make wealth at the sake of others less fortunate, it was always a system that created wealth to put back into the system, even energetically you can't top a flow and capitalism is based on flow. the mechanics politically in mexico is a dual industrial complex, one where people follow the democratic system the other where it's el narco, this is unsustainable based on the fact el narco kill indiscriminately and are at war with those that get in their way. the government is loosing the war on drugs because it started a war, it should just look at the issue holistically, where there is demand supply can be delivered, mexico can thrive based upon american consumption and no one need be killed.
imagine if a smart government ran australia, if i was pm i'd let farmers grow hemp, i'd saturate the world with it's products, i'd legalise the use of marijuana and limit the use of alcohol to a level of reasonableness, i'd stop fucking mining and start drilling down to 'hot rocks' energy and i'd promote immigration through infrastructure projects like solar panels for the red centre, i'd abolish multi culturalism and promote integration into a smart culture where art, personal liberty and secularism are valued, and a spiritual connection to the universe is a private but supported relationship. i'd stop all taxes and just have a transaction tax, i'd make sure people were educated in the laws of karma and mythology, everyone would have to read 1984 and animal farm and i'd seriously get the population as interested in self directed evolution as possible, in fact that's what skool would be.


so i'm thinking again, the laws of karma are so complex, how can a human mind comprehend them, we set out to do the right thing, maybe not, but what ever we do has an effect, even good intentions can result in bad consequences. 
'intention'
the road to hell is lined with good intentions so how do you think your way out, it's impossible. which is why i always think you just have to be as true to yourself as possible, work out your own code and go with that, although whatever it is it's probably way off the mark, which is one of the reasons i would like some answers.
philosophy has asked the question for so long now, we are getting close but just like 'prometheus' we run the risk of being eaten alive by birds of prey for eternity for our troubles, or maybe we are already.

forgive me, the negative vibe, it's a side effect of my stupid brain, it has to take everything apart, everything. the last few months have been tricky, i been hermitically sealed in my own juices, mixing with strange individuals, outsider, it's my albert camus period, just flickering on a cave wall. 

i'm intrigued by the prometheus film so i take myself to see it again, this time a few things become clearer, the acting is excellent, the script great, but i also see the homage to the tradition, it's also in the soundtrack which hints at some other classic science fiction films, the film also pays homage to ridley scott's other film, alien exists embedded within this film but blade runner does as well, an android becoming conscious. 

the theme of who the creator is played out by the android, who wants meaning in his life other than the disappointing idea we created him because we could, the fact he is reminded repeatedly through the film by the humans he is only an android, not human and the fact humanity on a quest to find their creators find only the possibility that they are a biological weapon, and the creators want to destroy them, nihilistic to the maximum, very depressing but the heroine, plays her ace card at the end of the film, she has a choice to return to earth but refuses deciding to take herself and the animated head of the android to the creators world. 

i liked the idea that these aliens seeded the world with dna hoping to construct some kind of biological weapon, eventually they must have seeded the alien creature from the film alien, and they must have realised it was far to dangerous, like smallpox. so they return to destroy all the outpost planets they experimented with in case these aliens are created, but on earth we evolved from the black goo seed. it's a good film, only let down by the messy surgical scene and the flame thrower bits of action, i think the story should have been free from action like this, kept cerebral, but i'm sure focus groups in america probably needed a punch up and blood. australian audiences didn't understand the film at all, it was panned by critics for leaving to many questions but to be fair the captain answers all the questions, just listen to his lines.

anyways later i wander down to a bookshop at the rocks, it's called ariel, a name i love and inside i meet a french lady, she's really beautiful, i mean perfecto, so i'm flirting with her and talking about the film i saw last night, woody allens brilliant 'midnight in paris' which she likes. she also talks a lot about milan kundrea whom i confess is a magnificent writer. we do exchange a longing and knowing look but i'm somewhat shy and leave without even asking her what her name is.

it's a cold sydney night, windy and clear sky, like snow falls close the atmosphere has an edge, it cuts into you, but with the thought of a lovely french lady working in a bookshop, reading kundra i feel warm and relaxed, just like that guy in woody's film, romantic at heart. 

maybe i'll go back one day and ask her what her name is.

driving along the highway, sun comes up over the water, bright orange light comes across the horizon from the rising sun, it's spectacular as it hits the cloud base and sends rivulets of pink through the strange elongated cloud structure, from down here it looks like the feathers of a plumed birds wing, the spirit of quetzalcoatl permutes the day. it's stunning, drenching bone marrow, saturating corpuscle, the ancients take my breath away sometimes, nature is overwhelming.

meanwhile...down in the coffee shop a man comes over and asks if i will sign something from amnesty international. now i am into human rights but i know amnesty is a beast with a forked tongue for it funds counter revolution, it pumps cash into unscrupulous shadow deals, has a very biased view of what countries to target and focus upon, meanwhile the real villains get left out, especially if they have a left wing government that is indistinguishable from a right wing one. amnesty is filled with it's own contradictions just like most agencies but it certainly is not what it appears. however this particular petition is about arms and weapons manufacturing and a call to stop it. ironic that recently i posted my thoughts upon this, so i felt drawn to sign the petition.

later i flicked through the newspaper and saw a new type of warfare, a smarter form of cyber war being played out, very clever i think, at least no one looses their life or limb yet.

in the future war will be fought like this, through zero's and ones, especially when technology finds it's way inside the body. a hacker can just turn the nano particles its put inside your soup from little green atomic molecules of invisible taste stimulaters to razor edged havoc wielding micro machinery. 

chemtrails decimate vast populations or attack areas of the brain which stops critical thinking, societies overdosing on fluoride behaviour modifiers, compliancy regulators stop those anti social thoughts and ideas, oh spread some extra dopamine around when your following the law, reward those who obey. you won't even see it coming, won't even know it's there, it's already there, half the stuff you believe is programmed into you without you even knowing, from the very chemical codes within your dna and neurological networks, to the memes your mum and dad gave you, to the ones skool educated you with and then the wild rampant ones that float around you like some strange virus disguised as ideology. what are we getting angry at? an illusion, a myth, an idea, a replication of reality, a construct.

pkd wrote about this stuff, he saw the future, the now. sooner or later you gotta pull your own plug, swallow that blue pill and wake up, it's just so, tasty in the matrix, just let me have that new (insert your favourite product here). 

i wander out towards the park with my dog, the clouds are loosing their colour, they change fast, light shifts everything towards dull, but old quetzalcoatl floats inside me like a crusty old demon, stretching his wings, looking at the state of man, laughing at our dumb ego driven pointless march deeper into illusion, into shadows on a cave wall, flickering away in candle light constructed energy grids that span the globe waiting to be blown out and show us the darkness 

is just a trick of the light.

see while i rave on about the united nations and global political bodies rio + 20 indicates exactly what i mean, total waste of time and money and energy, if they actually cared about the environment they would not hold a conference in brazil where they are destroying the rainforest and the people who inhabit it, our politicians are all talk, they look as if they are doing something but they are certainly not doing anything other than use our resources for a giant holiday. environmental bodies are intrinsically political, it's pointless, any political movement will become corrupted, environmentalism is now just politics. 
a few years ago i was invited to an ayahuscia session with some very lovely people. after the session i proclaimed that environmentalism is dead. it existed for a short while as a brilliant concept and worked from the early 60's until the mid 80's but then it became mainstream, just like punk. rebellion becomes money, this is how they do it, while the middle class are glamoured into thinking they are doing the right thing. i also declared it was time for a new movement, a holistic movement that is called the ecology movement. the ecology movement takes everything into consideration from micro bacterial ecology in the gut, to the atmosphere and gaia. it considers industry, education and society and culture, everything has to have a process that is ecological, even technology and art. this is pretty much my idea of reconnecting with the esoteric root from which we have drifted.
my friend peter who is a brilliant plant man, in tune with some sort of cosmic consciousness, my declaration was pretty much for him. i didn't know much about these things, just channelling information i had received. 
peter agreed with what i said, we later discussed how ridiculous the green movement had become, anyway's from that night it seems he has started the ecology movement. 
that was a beautiful night, i was with some very special people and we birthed a new way of thinking about the world, directly from ayahuscia herself. peter is a committed soul who will see things through, he has wisdom and a very beautiful soul. 
me, i'm an ecologist not an environmentalist but i'm just passing through, you are to, let's not leave our mark by trashing the place, let's leave it like we would like it left for us. that's reasonable.


and another thing, if these stupid leaders wanted world peace and for their populations to be safe, why not ban all weapons, just close down all manufacturing of arms and weapons, it's very simple. why don't they do this? 
because that's how they make their cash and you think it was just george w and his haliburton cronies, obama made the selling of arms his foreign policy.


here are the countries that are the worst offenders:


america (well we now the frontier of capitalism starts here)
france (the biggest hypocrites on earth)
russia (not exactly a democracy with dictator putin driving)
sweden (a total enigma, a socialist experiment for the politically correct)
england (a fallen empire)
norway (handing out peace prizes)
germany (well if your going to buy weaponry you may as well get the best)
and
australia (and you thought it was a mining boom)


disgusting right, these are the countries that make and sell weapons and then when the damage is done they broker peace and lecture people. why do they do it? ask your local mp?


the profits from these industries would be like cocaine profits, soaking in bad karma. 
there's no place in ecology for this sort of stuff, everyones guilty of something, it really is time to stop killing people and feed them.