so here i am in the western lands of sydney, not the one you see on your tv screens, this is the real sydney here, geographically central hardly any white fellows around, mostly vietnamese, i'm sticking out like a mad holy monk at the mathematicians annual pi conference. cabramatta was once upon a time known for its heroin deals, you didn't even have to leave the train carriage, the dealers would jump aboard, all part of the service, it was boom time until it got violent, there was a lot of bad press, the gangs were enforcing their own kind of law, the police were fighting a loosing battle, the media loved it as it fuelled seven different types of drama all resulting in the assassination of a local mp.
these days it's heroin free and thriving in it's wonderful restaurants, cafes and shops, it's a vibrant colourful town, pulsating with life and energy. 
i drive in with wayne, who has been up all night on hot russian brides dot com, so he's now in love with twelve different women from the ukraine who will all break his heart and leave him sad and unhappy but he don't know this yet, he's in a fantasy land and i have no choice but to hear about his romantic cyber space desires. it breaks my heart that he will burn up chasing this dream but when you get to this age there's three ways a man can go, compromising defeat, acceptance and peace or eternal romantic. i love this about wayne but it irritates me to, i want to balance his dream with a little healthy cynicism but who the hell am i to take that away from him, so i play along, offering the odd encouragement. 
for the moment he's happy following his fictions. 
wayne buys up a bag of spinach and cooked duck, i get some seaweed and a big bone for my dog. we have lunch at a vegan restaurant and across the way i wander around a vegan supermarket that stocks the most incredible stuff i have seen in any shop on earth. it's cheap as chips, the most obscure products all sourced for clean karmic nutrition and lifestyle, i make a mental note to return soon but wayne wants to leave, he is fat and sluggish, lazy and has no stamina, a little walk around and he's wheezing and drooling, panting for air. he smokes his cigarette and tells me i should drink juice, i agree but can't help feel a little sad.
the next day wayne drives to bondi beach, i wanted to introduce him to pete at the suv, but wayne is moody and dark, he's grumpy and an angry tide surfaces so we go to newtown where he wants to eat food and sit down, he complains about the parking metres and complains about the food, he complains and complains and i start to feel awkward thinking there's nothing i can do to salvage this. we pass a chinese leprechaun standing in the middle of the road and i smile to myself, that has made my day. wayne nags me about the parking meters and decides he wants to go to glebe for a cake. i direct him, pointing out the big car park with three free parking hours but wayne drives in and out, missing an opportunity to park, he is in a filthy mood, i can see his skin cooking as blood boils through his veins. 
he decides to drive home, so thus ended the road trip, wayne throws down a couple of painkillers, he's addicted to them, it makes him lighten up but i feel a sense of loss, as though the day has ben sucked into a sad void and i feel a sense of missed opportunity as i come home and watch the moon over perfect waves. 

the inverted force of love, the receptacle of fear falls prey to the sorrowing tides, she is like a hag of time, a crone in a body with a use by date, lingering on chemical blood and brittle bones. she is like a sea wench, used and wretched, no purpose other than vengeance, a vendetta of rage she whittles away with attempts to hack her way into all my accounts, damage my settings and guide my calm waters into a war.
she has no weapons that can penetrate, no words that work, her curses are my cure, her spells are like kisses lost in the breeze.
she must be boiling with revenge fantasy, time passing away without her, her teeth grinding in her sleep, her twitching limbs restless and those fingers in need of a touch but turning everything to the opposite of gold, maybe just dust. 
her minions are winged monkeys unable to calm her petulant whims, desires need feeding like babies. her cries are heard throughout the area, they echo down from her fortress, down down down onto the roads and passing cars, onto the beaches and streets, into letterboxes and windows, through the doorways and into the lounge rooms of neighbours.
a team of builders working next door whisper about her, rumours float as they are lighter than air and gossiping meatheads always use force, drinking beer and toiling in the sunshine, it's may day in paradise, but the haggard body of the wicked one knows no joy, knows no peace, as her acid like temper burns her from the inside, the smoke of technology may dissipate but it leaves a trail if you look hard enough, it leads straight to you.

if you like your novels written in a brilliant style, complex and page turning, crammed full of information, if you like your novels to challenge and filled with strange loops and connections,'dead water' is the book for you. 
primarily a story about the history of container shipping and the evolution of the understanding of the multi currents that operate within life, it's a novel about how hidden things reside in complex systems, both natural and man made, the book is a poem to our complete mercy to forces beyond understanding and control.
the novel is a fractal, breathtakingly beautiful, ever evolving and the characters are exotic and global personalities that the reader befriends only to read helplessly as they undergo the terrible fate the author inflicts upon them.
every sentence is perfectly written, and lingers as you move to the next, simon ing is my new favourite writer, he has something to say, and says it very well. there's a film makers dream in here somewhere, i savoured the pages describing a train crash and saw the most beautiful imagery in my mind, the two children's fates taking the most incredible transformation into something supernatural seemed to have a very visual and visceral quality, as chaos moved at totally different velocities within the carriages. i saw slow motion currents converge with fast motion in the same frames, details of debris spinning through, it was really a powerful piece of writing within a very good book.
this is one writer i'd like to read more off, i have picked up 'the weight of numbers' and look forwards to reading that in the near future. 

marty and i driving in his mustang down wisemans ferry way, weaving the bends at an outrageous speed racing a dream bike from the future, welded to the road, country blurs past but slow enough to know it's beautiful out there, colourful birds with big personalities, the winding hawksberry river from pittwater to parramatta, you can apprehend the past here, aborigine landscape, sacred place, i want to stop and absorb it all, but speed drives me ever forwards in time.
the next day i'm in a bmw with tim tearing past the graveyard listening to the rolling stones, 'melody, was her second name' with the brilliant piano and that sexy horn section. we drive to the city where he drops me off. i wander down macquarie street where there's some kinda commotion and it's not lloyd cole, it's a whole bunch of hindus, technically sieks, celebrating a big festival, there are thousands of them, laughing and dancing, they have a huge computer display and hand out drinks and food and suddenly i'm one of them, laughing and chatting, admiring turbans and the nice gowns, i pass through the crowd and head to the bookshop where i pick up some jack mcdevitt and hunt down simon ings. heading back from the city with tim we look at the clouds, big powerful cumulus.
the night comes and i'm looking at stars as i walk with evan down the street to newport for dinner, we go through our usual topics life the universe and everything, evan and i share a passion for 'dark side of the moon' it's our favourite piece of human art, it's the one object that we believe should represent humanity, send it into space i say while evan says, leave it buried in a time capsule so it will survive our future and one day when visitor archeologists trawl the ruins they will find it and appreciate there was some intelligent life here.   

snuff music by the deep fix part eight

snuff music by the deep fix part seven

'occult diary part one' opens an investigation, my own personal one. i was somewhat innocent in the sense i didn't know where it would lead me or what lay ahead. they say any investigation into the mysteries should be recorded in a magickal diary. i guess this was my magickal diary opening and my intention.
'invocation' is in actual fact a banishing ritual, it's also known as the lesser banishing ritual of the pentagram and basically clears space from positive or negative energies but it also focuses the mind in a meditative state and positions you at the centre of the magickal universe, in shamanism this is known as centring. the other aspect to the banishing ritual is it identifies the inspirational energy you require blending the self with the archetype you wish to invoke. there are hundreds of variations one can chose from and the words are really just sounds, it is the intention behind them that is important and the vibration one uses to make them, the sound has the power. i wanted the angels to have their own sounds, so after the name of each angel a different sound is heard, we wanted to create an atmosphere that was completely different to the rest of the music, one that commands listening and concentration and a little air of genuine respect.
'manifestation' basically is the work and dedication necessary to attain the mysterious 'communication or conversation with guardian angel' better known as augoeides (peter carroll says this is quantum uncertainty) and is traditionally a process of devotion. we threw in the effects of a presence or intelligence manifesting which was the energetic quality of lucifer, venus, the goddess, and the spirit of illumination, val adopts this very well in his line, 'show me this world' at the beginning of the next track but for the ending of this song val created the most frightening vocal line i have heard, he says he actually went a little crazy and describes it as possessed but whatever it was it was horrible, and i took it out from the mix. i was in another room while val did the line and it sounded like he had gone crazy, the old sound basement studio was attached to a mortuary so we did have some very strange experiences while recording some of the songs. i am convinced i saw a ghost and there are things in the mix that neither of us recorded. we left them in as the subliminal quality we wanted originally, maybe it was just some audio type resonance where two sounds create a third, i don't know but we left them in. val's vocal was far to disturbing to leave in, although he probably would have enjoyed that.
'straight outta hell' is possibly the obvious single or radio friendly song, it's got a chorus and its fun to do live. 
'lucifers tears' started as an electro song with lots of synth and a kraftwork type feel but ended being quite organic once we added louis on saxophone and clarinet, he gives it that beautiful flight that lifts you off the ground on the outro, i would have liked it to go on forever.
'snuff music' well the lyric and energy sums it up, any intelligence would look at the way humans behave and contemplate our species being like a cancer upon the planet. i think whatever critical mass we need to reach for things to change we had slipped way past it on all levels, and i felt that solutions now needed to be cosmic because lets face it, we are pretty self destructive as a species, and here's where i discovered the mayan calendar and the idea of evolutionary consciousness. 
'8 division sky place' well i guess i'm heralding a new way of looking at life, although it's actually not new, these traditions had known about them for ever, but civilisation came along all superior and obliterated the savage. while i am obviously not opposed to civilisation, what i do feel is we are far removed from our esoteric roots, where indigenous cultures still have this relationship and are close to the source. i guess the song here is about readjustment to a cosmic principle and a letting go of investment in false constructs but most of all letting go of fear, and how fear paralysis us whereas love liberates.
'occult diary part two' closes the investigation, and obviously changes the energy and dynamic of the investigator.
'my mantra' half made up on the spot, is basically a celebration of love, self love, for through self love  we can liberate ourselves from all the energies that hold us entrapped in negative emotions, fear hate etc, and the great mantra 'om siri rama jaya' translates as 'victory for the self within' which is the essence of my own personal philosophy for here lies the singularity that is love. i guess this is about changing yourself before trying to change others, dealing with your own selfish desires will change other peoples more effectively than trying to change some one else's, i may be wrong but it felt right at the time.
anyway's the whole process was one energy wave, a current i was riding, it came through and to me, it was not me, for i am just a normal guy trying to get by, i am not enlightened any more than anyone else, i'm still a fucking idiot, a fool, a clown who can't pay his rent, writes stupid things, fails at relationships and friendships, i still have to chop the wood and carry water but for some reason i just found myself tapping into this wave and here is where it took me. every individual will find their own wave and it may be very different from the one i took, and there will be other waves, and each wave is just part of a cosmic ocean that makes up the universe and the universe is just one within a multiverse, and the best thing to do, seeing as though we exist in such magnificent and glorious infinite oceans of possibility is unconditionally love life and use your imagination to create art and devote it to the universe, because what the hell is the point to anything else.

snuff music from the deep fix part six

val and i met through some incredible connection and synchronistic event, he and i were orbiting the same star but it was obvious we were destined to meet at some point in time. let me state now, val is a genius of the highest order, there is no doubt in my mind and he is perfect for me to work with as he understands my ideas completely. because i can't speak in a musical language i use metaphors very similar to eno's oblique strategies, painting soundscapes works for me and val transmutes my skeleton sketches into a body, we both use an intuitive process but val has the skills to technically delve into the details and shape the work with the breathe of life, it's all done very fast, i trust val enough that i know he will always take the song where it needs to go. 
we made snuff music over about a year, a few hours here a few there, but when we work we work fast, it flows and often i'm uncertain where it's going as the whole thing is totally intuitive, sometimes drifting down a hidden tangent we never saw coming. once we get the song, we like to fuck with it, val tends to be the darker palette and i the lighter, the balance is perfect a blending of opposites. we used nevin on some guitar parts, dragged him in one night gave him some oblique strategies, no time for him to even rehearse and in the second take we recorded. my very good friend tez in the uk played that amazing guitar on 'hell' and louis played  his sax like the giant he is, sometimes we took him down the end of the corridor, miked the sax up to get that echoing, haunting feel. these guys are excellent musicians, i am very grateful to have such people contribute to this project. the woman's voice is olga, val's wife, whom i dragged into the studio to do the spoken word stuff, she was great. 
all in all the songs formed in this weird narrative and each one completely different part of a whole. 

snuff music from the deep fix part five

the mayans had inherited a calendar that plotted the universes patterns based on the relationship it has with consciousness, it is an obvious map of the heavens showing in tremendous details the cycles the universe operates towards but it also had a hidden cycle the one known as '8 division sky place.'

this was about an individuals own calendar, their own personal biorhythm, the one they wake up in the morning with, it's unique and personal to the soul or spirit of that person but it was available via the one power all life forms have, intuition.

when one is in intuition with the universe one is also in the zone, any surfer knows this, most sports people know this and most artists know although they may not think beyond the studio, stadium, or ocean, if we expand to the cosmic scale, when you're in the zone, you're in the zone. 

in fact all the modern books on education state, find out what your child loves doing and focus on that, the zone is about love, it's a singularity, escape from the zero's and ones. 

the fact is something is shifting, changes are underway, this may not be as catastrophic as traditionalists think, cities will not fall into the sea but each individual will go through major changes and shifts where they are realigned into a new way of living. the word apocalypse means revealing, and this is exactly what's occurring. people are understanding politics, religion, financial systems, are all just ideas we have mistakenly invested in, they are built upon weak foundations and a re-evaluation is occurring as we go through our personal shifts. the key to navigating this change is intuitive thinking, feeling with the heart. unconditional love is not a weak force, it's a strong force.

snuff music from the deep fix part four

the downloading took place over a year but it was in one glorious sun drenched morning i experienced some divine intervention. there's no other word for it and i understand how the people that wrote the old testament must have felt when they attempted to describe their visions with syrian rue, the connections are obvious. 
i rode the wave into illumination guided by the mythology of lucifer, not the church version either, the original roman symbol identified as the morning star, venus, the goddess bringing light into darkness, like one big revelation baby i started seeing clearly for the first time in my life, the shackles and the cave wall no longer obscured the truth, my truth, ideologies ere constructs, banking systems, religions, laws, science, politics, society, it was all a vast unnecessary construct i was free off. so what's left when you take all that away?
the cosmos and the shaman have a relationship that cannot be understood by the brain, it's an area of maybe logic, it's that strange zone where all things converge, boundaries dissolve and the shaman can move between worlds, into other dimensions, realities it's a place where there is no dualism and one can bring back information for the benefit of the tribe. 
i came back and looked at my tribe and it was living in a type of insanity, that's how it was for me now, like a snuff film where life is not valued, where violent bloody death is celebrated, where the innocent are dragged against every spiritual value in the universe all because somewhere down the time line we decided to abandon the heart as a thinking organ, ego and self gratification had won the war, all that was missing was a soundtrack.
but venus had one last thing to share with me, it was found in graham handcock's book, 'fingerprints of the gods' where the idea of civilisations existing on earth way before our official history dates. in fact these civilisations were very advanced, in mathematics, astronomy, architecture. there are maps that circumnavigate the land mass that could only be drawn from the air, there are buildings that plot the cycles of the universe and there was a pole shift which occurred every few million years in line with the mayan calendar which i started to decipher over the year. 

snuff music from the deep fix part three

originally we wanted to make a cd of songs that were unlistenable or irritate the listener enough to send them into some sort of 'hysteria state' where they felt they were listening to something that evoked a hideous terror that they where repulsed by. we generate ideas faster than we can actualise them, it's a blessing and a curse.

val and i wanted to play with subliminal sounds that actually made the listener want to turn the cd off but i felt val had already achieved this with his 'gentle flow' release called black.

here's a sample with the most terrifying video clip and music ever.

black 6 is the most accessible song from the whole black album in my opinion, it's a remarkable piece of work for this was total sonic repulsion in extremus and i doubt many people would be playing it more than once.

for the deep fix, i wanted something subtle with a 'pop' aspect something that took the listener on a journey through the dark and into the light, ideas were coming together, themes were forming, melodies bubbling away but there were no words yet and whatever current i was tapping into had not yet reached its destination, i wanted to ride this wave and see where it took me, i couldn't predict what lay ahead because at that point it was beyond imagination, contained within boundaries, as william blake says, 'between the known and unknown there are doors.'
then i had ayahuscia for the first time, and the boundaries dissolved, my mind opened up and i guess so soon after a brain injury my whole hardwire reformatted itself beyond anything i had ever experienced, and any one who has had the experience of these amazing plant teachers will validate, it is confirmation of gods existence, it is confirmation of the spiritual world, it is confirmation of intelligence beyond man, it is confirmation that consciousness exists beyond the limits of the body, and it is confirmation that death is not the end. the door had just opened wide and i leapt through.

snuff music from the deep fix part two

it starts with forgetting and remembering, for i am the strange loop, the deep fix is something stranger, snuff music was born out of subconscious impulses and connections, it is chaotic, random and fractal like, it has no place in the world and belongs in another universe, it is not space rock but inner-space rock, it is not trance music but trance dimensional pop, i am not the writer although i am the vessel, a mere conduit, the songs and ideas are points connecting but not in straight lines, the pattern is a narrative but it follows non linear path. it's secrets lay within its dark matter, it is fluid, mercurial, forming a hologram when completed, it has no value, it is neither good or bad, it is an important message or an insignificant blip upon the radar of human culture, it means absolutely everything and absolutely nothing. it may be disposable pop music and bad poetry, it's most defiantly crazy cosmic jive, it could even be trash or art. it does not matter, it does not anti matter, it is revolutionary protest songs for the revolution will be private, it will not be televised, it occurs within the mind of man and yet cannot be won with the mind of man. 


a few years ago i had a brain injury, it made me forget huge chunks of stuff and yet i remembered others that lay hidden before the accident. in fact part of my history seemed more real than the others parts, it was quite a peculiar thing causing lots of problems and thus creating new possibilities.
i had finished various conventional treatments and was in the process of integrating everything together so i could function reasonably well in the world again, meanwhile while all the memories of my esoteric life were present i began to map the process in chronological order, looking at patterns and events because i didn't know what they meant and i was suffering an existential crisis, i needed that one thing that life does not guarantee, meaning. 
i had taken apart all philosophies, all sciences, all religion and there were absences, every system was scrutinised, every one had validity up to a point but all failed me. the theory of everything can't be found in these forms. ideologies, beliefs, ideas about existence all seemed to reach a certain point and then start to collapse within their own foundations. take capitalism, that works to a point until banks are bailed out by the people who pay tax. that's what recently occurred, capitalism failed. those banks should never have been bailed out, it was a total anti capitalist move signifying it's failure. socialism, well lets just say that more people have been killed by socialist governments than by any other. socialism works in small communities, ironically kibbutz is a socialist environment that works, try running a country on these principles and all that happens is the population start spying on one another and individuality is lost, the drive to move forwards is lost, the need to diversify is lost, and the human spirit crushed. 
ayn rands book 'the fountain head' is a magnificent example of why the individual matters in a way that the mass cannot, we must find our place within the world as individuals. identity crisis is fashionably ignored by individuals and countries, who are you, what is an australian, what is human, what is one's duty to another, what is value, what is real, what is not?????


reading howard blooms book 'the lucifer principle' 
assisted understand why history was in conflict, what mysterious impulses are driving these forces and how we as a species were only just beginning to understand them. 
yet there was another path that understood this already through some serendipitous fluke it converged with my own, all the occult knowledge i had experience off, the crazy life i had lived, the random factor, the past lives that i had glimpsed, the future, the science, the mythology, the fictions and the facts, my surfing philosophy, inventions and imagination all seemed to come to or from this one single point. 


'the lucifer principle' puts forward this simple idea, that humanity is driven by memes and generally we can say some are better than others but they are always in conflict over history and we can see the way they have shaped our past, often violently. all because someone had an idea or the idea had them.

snuff music from the deep fix part one

opaque memory, slave to time, forgetting, memory and forgetting, the two are intrinsically linked like a coin's head to its tail, spinning through space and time, in our minds, when you share a memory with a friend it splits in two, their memory and forgetting, and your own, the more people who share the same memory the more the events are separated from the original.
history has never been an exact science. we may be able to tell the winner from the looser but it means little over a period of time. england won the war and beat germany, yet by the 1970's germany was the economic superpower in europe while england floundered, what does that mean, same for japan and america. in history the tibetans were the cruel invaders of china, their horrific deeds are forgotten in time, currently everyone hates the chinese invaders. in a few years tibetan buddhism will be absorbed into china as all chinas foes are, and it will germinate into a meme that will take over it's host, we may even see a greater tibet as chinese people convert to the more powerful force than absorption, you can't stop an idea like buddhism, it is like trying to sink a water droplet in an ocean. thus a cycle of time is complete, the tibetans win a war without fighting it or committing an act of destruction, just like ghandi. on the other hand gengus khan, hitler, pol pot, all pursue invasion of the mind, spreading hate and fear, eventually history turns it into something else, no hitler never killed any jews, they just exaggerate the numbers, death camps, they were holiday camps. the killing fields, a holiday in cambodia, i wonder how many khmer rouge were welcomed into cabrimatta as political refugees, i met quite a few in local politics there, just average guys swept up in some kinda madness. murder is banal when it's done on such grand scales, like industry. 
the trends now are to rewrite history, to steal it, to own it, this is the way it is as we slip into the time and space of history, we see history is war itself, a war for versions, a war for truth, a bloody messy white wash, and what do we learn from it anyway.
history is the study of the past, but it really is the study of patterns, cycles, and the only one fact we know for certain is that mankind repeats itself endlessly, like a fractal pattern we are caught in the ebb and flow with our memories and forgetting.

SPHERE TURNS INSIDE OUT

alphaville.
where the skyline falls into the bedroom, the sunset washes away the horizon and the neon glow of artificial futures intoxicate the neo cortex with a haunting saxophone solo or a strange discordant piano note, treated with some additional stress plays out through immaculate glass structures. 
i watched the helipad over on the east side, you could see the silhouette of a big hulking monstrous bird and the shadow of it's rotors sending synaptic vibrations across the rooftops, the deafening whoop..whoop..whoop of blades. i put out the joint and took a sip of bottled water. 

mariane suggested we share some bliss but it was far to hot, i just wanted to fill the tub with ice and sink under it naked and close my eyes wrapped in the cool sensation of temperature drop.
she laughed, 'you don't have ice to even put in your drink baby.'

she was right, alphaville in summer was hot and dry, ice was a luxury we didn't have, we were out of credit, out of scams and out of luck, we were running on love and in alphaville that's the currency of fools and the young, and i had already lived four lifetimes in one. 

mariane looked luscious in her little yellow dress, and those red sunglasses matching red heels, she was all aglow like a ripe peach. she came over and took a sip of water,'what's the plan' she says.

aplahville don't care for plans, it lets you make them then it shows you how impotent you are. i learnt that the hard way but mariane is an optimist, she likes something to look forwards to, she's younger than me but wise enough to know ultimately after luck and credit have run out there's only so far love can take you, in alphaville it's not far at all. maybe to the front door of your escape plan.

down on the street i spotted a man with a sun umbrella, he wore nice clothes, a shiny light reflecting suit of greenish blue, with some red thrown in because i guess wealth don't necessarily come with taste, he walked towards a big stretch car, it was all gloss and gleam and there was a chauffeur holding a door open for him in a nice uniform, looking all present and professional. as the suit leaned in to sit in the back seat he threw the smoking remains of his cigar away. it flew up in a tight arc and fell onto the pavement where it rolled a few feet and lay still, smoking at the feet of a policeman, who picked it up carefully and inspected it. i watched him gaze at it and then smell it slowly as if it were a fine wine, he inhaled the smoke into his nostrils and then held the butt up to the light examining it in detail, you could just make out the stress lines on his face as he concentrated.

mariane and i watched from above, her hair caught a soft breeze, and for a moment she looked all angelic and heavenly and i wanted to kiss her but things started moving fast on the street, the policeman, drew his weapon, it was a laser taser, he pointed it at the man but the door had been shut and the chauffeur was climbing into the driving seat, we could see the passenger in the back seat, his chubby profile and stubby hands seemed to be pouring himself a drink from a bottle with an elongated neck. the blast of the tire exploding was enough to make the glass fall from his hands and he started yelling at the driver who was already leaving the car in a panic, the police man held his weapon towards the driver and shouted, 'on the floor, now.'

he ran towards the car and opened the door pulling the man out, dragging him blubbering onto the floor, it was obvious he was a stranger to alphaville, unfamiliar to the zee tee code, should have done his research, i thought. 
by now a crowd of alphavilles were gathered, children gazed at the drama as it unfolded, they were shuffled out into the shadows away from the sun by concerned parents, one of the kids was licking an ice cream another held on to a can of cold fizzy drink, i was looking at him slurping it with envy.
the cop stands astride the man, holds his weapon over him, he aims at his face and his mouth starts reciting the zee tee code. then with cool precision he lets the energy beam burn a whole in the mans brain. it's a clean shot, no mess at all, just a little vapour cloud rising from the guys skull.
the man didn't even have time to beg, he just looked shocked and then dead. the children clapped and moved onwards with their mums and dads, the chauffeur hovered nervously and began dragging the smouldering remains of the man into the car. the police man handed him the cigar butt and walked onwards continuing his beat. 
mariane and i drew down the blind, we had seen the zero tolerance code enacted many times, it was the alphaville way, everyone knew how it goes, except the poor suckers who don't.
'all that credit, look where it got him.'
'yeah' i say, 'lets just make love until we can't.'
that's how it is in alphaville.

whatever notion may arise, never to let it live or grow, but to turn it that instant, firm and stern, back to it's source and merge it there, this is robust intense detachment.


okay this comes easy to me these days, i get it. sri ramana's really on to something here, he's nailing something really revolutionary, it's extreme and demanding and also somewhat impossible. 
he's suggesting that when you are confronted with some kind of notion, an opinion, judgement or external value, a criticism, something that just don't feel right or something that comes from a bad place, a corrupted thought process you can let it go. it belongs to the person who sends it, comes from them, it's their creation and therefore should have no attachment to you unless you chose to keep hold of it. 
the more one practices detachment, even of ones own thoughts and negative energies the less hold they have over you.
and the hard bit is understandably applying it to your own thoughts, the ones that fill you with insecurity and fear, these need to be understood, acknowledged as nothing more than thoughts and released as love.

down on the streets of nude port the young mothers wheel their children in designer prams built to withstand thermo nuclear attacks from hostile predators with take over intentions. they carry jumbo lattes and mobile phones, they drive sleek metallic black military looking suvs and dress like super models. 
the sun is out with a wind factor from the west, blowing in messing up hairdo's, steering prams to the right, newspapers are blown of tables and napkins fly through the streets as children chase them into trees. i'm out and about walking pan, the wonder dog, he has to stop every few minutes as his admirers fawn over him and comment on his nature, his ball, his tail, his hight, his soft silky hair, his bright eyes, his loyalty, his warm and generous personality, his friendly disposition, his exotic cooking skills, i don't know, he's popular around town, every one knows him and they love him.
me, i'm a different animal, not as friendly these crazy days, i don't like small talk, chit chat, frivolous words with strangers about tax, juliar, unemployment, the surf conditions, the market index, the new young talent time, or tv series i have never seen, however i am always sucked into these things, and i just can't say no as i trawl though family photographs off strangers, holiday stories about unbuilt hotels, holiday romances that have open endings, unending dramas and car trouble. 
sometimes i'll just keep my head down, buried in my book, this current one is james frays, 'the last testament' which is good enough to keep my head in the story and not the narrative from old mrs. keating across the road about the missing oleander tree the council chopped down. i do miss it but then i also miss my grandmother to.
'the last testament', i'm almost finished but it's great, i'm loving it, the messiah is exactly how i imagine him, sex, drugs and no bullshit, nice little jewish guy from the bronx, doing it tough but keeping it real, fucking a cute little lap dancer, dealing with the righteous, stealing food from garbage bins, doing time with the punished. everyone gets served in this book, the religious, the law, the media, it's all called by the son of man,i can dig the messiah as james frey writes him, yeah he's all heart in the heartless world.
and james frey, okay he got kind of crucified by all the operah types, yeah he cheated the system, told a few lies in his autobiography, got busted and consequently humiliated. yeah james paid his due, big fucking deal, christians know how to forgive don't they?
well done james, this is a great book man. good luck to ya.

it's been raining heavy for three nights, downpour, not the kinda night anyone wants to be out on the streets, but gravy bones and i are running along a road, looking for shelter already drenched to the bone, we head for a restaurant in the hope that it will welcome us with warm food and shelter, it's late and in these suburbs two waterlogged freakazoids like us are strange and threatening to the late night diners finishing of their deserts and after dinner mints. up ahead i can see the neon glow of the sign above the door and we run past a flower shop set back on the street, and from the corner of my eye i see something very strange. a woman, an aboriginal lady around 60 years old, dancing in the rain. it's an hallucination think and almost immediately i say to gravy bones, 'i'm hallucinating, seeing visions of aboriginal women dancing.'
'no, it's not an hallucination, i saw it to, unless we are both sharing the same vision.'
we enter the restaurant, and we are gazed upon as we wander towards the desk area. we order some food take away, as they say they are closing the table service. we are drawn towards a display, a large cabinet with asian artefacts, a buddha and a strange pointy hat which gravy bones thinks i should wear, but i'm thinking about the strange watery night, the woman dancing in the rain.
i mean this is not a suburb where aboriginal women are usually seen, it's a night where hardly anyone is out, and it's certainly not a night to be dancing outside in the rain. my head tries to give some context to the whole event but it can't, and i like that, that makes sense to me so i smile. 
it's made the night worthwhile.

dear readers please go and see the film 'a deeper shade of blue' if you can, get the dvd when it comes out. my old friend gravy bones invites me to the second from last screening at avalon cinema, it was meant to be on for one night, it's completed three weeks full house which is amazing in terms of local history. 
this is a really important piece of film, made by jack mccoy and my friend gravy bones. there's some amazing footage, jack using a special underwater camera to capture the wave forms as the surfer ride it, there's a scene where a new type of board is used, the board rides above the actual water and looks incredible, like a very cool jesus travelling across the surface of ocean. mind blowing stuff, then there's the big waves riders, man these guys are incredibly focused and dedicated, the footage is spectacular. big waves are not just big, they are mighty primal elemental forces with the potential to crush the surfer like an ant. 

here's the link, 

http://www.adeepershadeofblue.com/

but perhaps the most important aspect of the film is the way it informs the audience about the spirit of 'aloha' and the essence of what it means to be a surfer, summed up best by the hawaiian surfer who is so brilliant he doesn't even need to compete.

a reader requested i write about the ideas and influences behind the cd snuff music, the new cd from the deep fix. i will do this very soon, the themes are complex and to write about them would only detract from the music, i will however attempt an explanation in the next few weeks. i wanted to do this via a video clip which val and we filmed a fantastic interview just after we recorded it, but the technician forgot to switch the sound on, so it's just us appearing to mime, we thought we may overdub some silly comments but never quite got around to it. instead i will attempt to explain some of the ideas and themes contained in the cd, bear with me, it will happen very soon.

story coming down the wire, a bus driver is filmed with a passengers mobile phone because he is using a mobile phone while driving. 
yes the thought police are everywhere, they are your neighbours, your friends, your pets, your teachers, your children, your husband or wife, your girlfriend or your ex. 
the idiot who filmed this man did not know that the traffic was being diverted due to an accident and the drivers intercom was down due to a high level of radio waves in the area. he was using the phone to access google maps to check that the diversion would accommodate the bendy bus. 
however the passenger did not know any of this and continued filming only to report the film as evidence to the police who then charged the driver. the driver lost his job and his home and can't get another job.
all because some moronic fool thinks it's his / her business to snitch. 
i hope that person who feels such civic responsibility gets what's coming to him / her, you prick, don't you have a life, don't have other things to do than secretly film some one, big brother isn't watching you, he has his little brothers and sisters to do it for him. zombies.