this is compulsive reading, go out and buy a copy as julians message and story will never get told as accurately as this. no matter what you think you know about this story, you will be surprised and shocked as julian tells his version of events. i suspect it's an official biography but for legal reasons the publishers have made it unofficial with julians consent.
i'm reading this on the bus this morning, heading towards palm beach when a old man starts talking to me, he comments on the book, asks me about my yin yang tattoo and then starts telling me about how he is in a group called structural engineers and architects for 9-11 truth. apparently there are quite a lot of members all pushing to reopen an inquiry. he says explosives were placed in the buildings 10 years before the planes went into them, and they were checked and activated a few weeks before 9-11. he said it was a controlled demolition. 
now i get very nervous around these types of theories, i mean i just don't know, i do know that governments are fucked up and capable of anything but this is pretty fucking extreme. i can't imagine how they think they could get away with it if it is true. truth always comes to light. most people i know say it was an inside job, i just don't wanna think that we are at this point. i mean it's not like a few innocent people died. thousands of people died in that attack, and then there are the people that died in the wars. that's a lot of blood on some one's hands.

i climbed up the towers, when i was younger, i remember standing up there looking down upon the city spellbound by the height and engineering, i couldn't get my head around how humans could build something so high, so huge and mighty, it was massive, i mean really massive, both of them were. the wind was blowing, i took some photographs with my canon slr, i ran around up there soaking it all up.

inside job?

i can't quite comprehend it myself, it's just to huge, yet the evidence is all there. but who the hell would do that and why?

oil, war and gold?
i don't know who they are, i gave up thinking about it because there's no point, as far as i am concerned the people responsible lost their humanity when it was optioned, and they will get their payback. i don't believe in evil just human stupidity, control and power, all governments are responsible in one way or another. and so are we, we voted for them, we tolerate it, we use the cars that burn oil, we are part of the problem, and don't think just because you buy 'free trade' products you're innocent. it's not black and white, people are exploited everywhere, they always have and always will be, it's the way humans use power and control and if you are really free of your own power and control issues, you just made the world a better place. that's all an individual can do i think.


yesterday evening as i plundered abbeys treasures i received a phone call, it was my friend, my very dear and really good friend whose mother had just died in a terrible accident. he was at the hospital and although i could hear the shock in his voice he had rung me to let me know because i guess in a way we are brothers. so my brother, my thoughts are with you today. 

the splash of indifference, the twist of nostalgia, the sliver of sublimation and pour through a stranger, iron out the wrinkles in time, and beat occasionally with a wet wooden spoon. when it reaches a fine consistency pour the liquid into the moulds and bake for several days. 
yeah i'm sorry, i lost the plot, that occasionally happens, i default to something else, another persona takes over and well, it's not an excuse, i am after all a work in progress and mistakes are bound to happen.
my thoughts don't express well sometimes, ideas come across jumbled and mis represented, intention misunderstood, i don't know, i just write what is in my head, travelling through my crusty neutrons, i'm not an authority on anything and this blog is just a mode of writing.
i gotta express my ideas and reflect on them, it's a deep impulse i cannot ever limit, i can't think about the reader or what he or she makes of it, you're a free individual, you can make your own mind up about it, and i'd probably agree with most of what people say, the ravings of a madman and fool.
the point i guess is i am not my blog, i'm a traveller, a sort of astral psychonaut on a journey and this is my way of recording events, it's a representation but it's not actually me and most of the time ideas and writing are not very well thought out because it's a diary of sorts and a reflective device, all stream of consciousness. but i should not make excuses, while some of it may well be bullshit to the reader, there are some elements that are worthwhile. i know this is true no matter what, that cant be diminished or devalued. 
one day the compilers will look through this work and organise it into sections for each persona that has written entires, and some will be liked more than others, some will have merit some not, some will be worth reading and others will be trashed. i accept that. however i will keep writing, and keep exploring and keep reporting. 

my attorney tim is a big man, he's probably one of my best friends, a giant. he's an intimidating presence, a vast aura of power and authority, he has influence over everyone he comes into contact with whereas i prefer to stay in the shadows, my attorney and i have a small spot in a sacred place where we drink coffee and review the transit of venus which is due in june. we ski over politics, tribal religions, women and music, and in general we are aligned, saddened by what we know to be the kali yuga years, watching it all with a certain detachment. 
when you have children detachment is very difficult but i guess you have to extend it, practice what you know is true, children are much wiser than we are. our children do not belong to us, they have chosen to incarnate in our lives, teach us what we have to know. sooner or later we lose them, better to loose them to the ocean of life than a war or a tragedy of someone else's making. but what is life but a tragedy which is why the best banishing ritual is laughter.
laughter in the face of adversity, laughter at your own absurdity and the banal paradox from which there is only one escape. 
umberto eco writes a fantastic novel based around the medievals churches response to laughter, it's called, 'in the name of the rose' and is worth reading as a fiction novel with a fantastic story but on an esoteric level as well. mind you umberto eco's novels are all multi levelled in this way. 
laughter is the best response to the ending of a ritual, clearing space and also banishing negative energies, which is why sometimes it's best to laugh at ones enemies rather than to attack them or defeat them for what can defeat laughter, it is the antidote to tragedy. so look at mankind, strange little civilisation building it's weird little money hungry societies and structures, eating itself, killing it's host, chasing fame and trinkets, a million face book friends, a zillion pairs of shoes, a gazillion hits on you tube, an eternity of zeros and ones. i can laugh at myself, all my crazy ideas, all my words and ideas, all my strange little clues to unravel the mystery. a little pixie dust goes a long way, a little bit of magick makes it all clear, amongst the terror of meaningless existence, here's a way that actually does not reduce itself, it's clarity and perfection, it's the path of illumination and the brighter the more darkness we can see for this is duality and it's all nothing but smoke and mirrors, tears and laughter, ups and downs. i wish my friends were happy more than anything else, i wish them peace and love, a soft landing from the war, a little bit of a reprieve in the battlefield. i don't know how to help them anymore, i can barely help myself these days, just getting each day done is an achievement, but sometimes you gotta just slay the demon, look it in the eye and kill it man. for it's better to liberate what's left of the soul than let the thing claim it totally. 
my words are keep yourself safe, protect the children and let it go and i am here if you should need a friend.

the ocean, our ocean, cut the water surface for breath, deep rich blue, undulation in the mass of energy, it churns, yearns, pushes and pulls, it is everywhere, above and below and until i find my inner gyroscope i am at its mercy. stretching out, my body is awkward and slow, needs a tune up, i find my skin has limits unlike my imagination, i swim out into big waves, under their bow, up and out, following the physics of the thing, being intuitive. the surf is filled with colour, people, noise and random action, i avoid these children, dodging them as a wave carries me through the crowd, it's been a long time. i play my solo game, i being to feel time slip away. walking out past the sunbakers past the english tourists with their white skin and past the lebanese people with their word tattoos and loud 'doof' music, past the bbqs, i wander across drying in the sun, summer arrived, it feels good. 

i wire some cash to jake so he can pay his rent, i ponder how i will pay my rent, i hope it's pay week, i eat some bananas, cream cheese, dates and walnuts wrapped, in a wrap. i meet my friend tim, the worlds greatest barrister and my friend. we go drink coffee together and discuss the government, both agree that this particular government has been the worst government we have ever lived under, we wonder about how the future will look for the young ones who will be paying back the debt we have accumulated as julia gillard sits in her big home with her big fat pay check, more than obama, and tells australia, 2012 will be the best year yet. have you got your electricity bill yet?

we discuss julian assange whom we both think is brilliant, we discuss quantum physics and music. i tell tim the best concert i have ever seen was the church at the enmore, he says pink floyd was his, we run out of things to say as we are joined by the multitude of brain dead zombies, enemies of love and light and liberation.

the methods of augoeides have been well documented, they have also been suppressed and made to appear more complex than the process actually is, however it is dangerous and should either be attempted in serious and dedicated intent or avoided for the consequences are dire if the process goes wrong.
my interpretation is this. 
the universe is female, it is intelligent and engaging, it is supreme consciousness and part of that exists within us. the god within, in kabbalah this is known as the spark, but there are many names to describe it in mystical traditions. let's for the sake of practicality call it K, which i believe aligns itself to the sensual or sexual magick crowley used and the tantric practices of the east. k also represents the prefect state of singularity that exists within duality, within us. this is the drive to seek liberation, light and love. this is the universe at it's most pure state in the dualistic scheme of things. it is the true will of the magickian, the avatar in earthbound body. possibly the thing that drives you and i together.
the process of discovery is fraught with danger since it leads to obsession.
the operation is to seek metamorphosis, a transformation, a rebirth. yet each incarnation must have purpose, why is k reborn into the life it has? what are it's lessons?
each life must be looked as part of the puzzle, each progressive life must be driven towards knowing the method of escaping the cycle of rebirth ultimately or serving the universe by doing it's true will.
one must watch reality carefully, watch the way it moves, look for the patterns, look for the metaphorical lessons, look for the synchronistic events, look for the subconscious landscapes, everything has a meaning. 
as you follow your heart you discover your true will, this will become proportionally easier as it's unveiled, however the maya of consensus reality becomes more and more bizarre as it falls away and reorganises its self to you. part of the HGA process is to interpret every part of existence as a message from the cosmos directly to the magickian, this is the magickal world you enter, and this means you have to take full responsibility for it and everything that occurs within it. 
as i have suggested earlier a magickian is someone who takes responsibility for everything in their life. it's a curse sometimes but it is a blessing really.
while this is manifesting the magickian begins invoking the augoeides, this is a process of love, prayer, dedication, devotion and ritual, it should be mentioned you are not adding to your personality but stripping layers away.
as i mentioned there are many methods to invoke ones HGA and i won't repeat them but find one that suits you and stick to it for at least 6 months after that stop attaching significance to everything and show discernment lest ye go mad. anyone who tries to shortcut this process will go insane.
conclude the ritual by the wisdom of silence, dedicate yourself to the HGA but never banish. later you can use more intense forms of gnosis while invoking, at the end of each day process the events and write notes in your diary, failure is part of the process, but there is no room for guilt or sin, for these are traps of the religious not spiritual world. magick raises the power of the individual and liberates not entraps or enslaves.
if unbalanced scraps of ego become attached to the augoeides by mistake then disaster awaits in the form of the demon known as choronzon. 

the city, this city, a million people a million stories, the streets are jammed packed with them crawling around the bargain bins and cut price shopping malls, everyone looking for something, under a clear blue sky. 
i'm looking for a book when a man in a turban comes to me, he grabs my arm, and in the slightest of voices whispers, 'sir, you have a kind face, a very kind face, i can see this, i can tell, i can read your face.'
i'm stunned for a moment and then non attachment, this stuff happens all the time to me, while it's impossible not to feel something as it's quite extraordinary one must be careful not to obsess or place to much significance on these events.
i look at the man, he's leading me to the side of the street and i find myself following, 'i'd like to talk with you, i can see a few things, help you, i know things, i have gifts.'
so i suggest we grab a tea somewhere, he declines and tells me that 2011 was a very difficult year for me, he says, 2012 will be fantastic especially march, then he writes three letters on a piece of paper. MBJ and says these are significant letters, doe they mean anything? well i guess J could be jake but the MJ really don't mean that much. then he says not to wear black on a tuesday and then he writes something down on a pice of paper, he sticks it into my hand and tells me to clench my fist, which i do. he puts his hand over my fist and asks me to chose a flower, which i do. lilly. then he asks what my age is, the guy is young, he has a fire in his eyes blazing, tells me he in 2012 i will meet a very special woman whom will love me, she will be the one he says, and then he pulls open my fist and asks me to unravel the paper i hold. it's a tiny ball, and it's quite difficult to unravel. when i do it has a number written upon it, my exact age and the word LILY. he'd spelt it wrong i think, but none the less i was impressed although what these things mean is any ones guess.
then he said that i should pray every morning and he gave me a stone, saying it was very lucky but i should wash it, i don't know what that meant but he went on about karma, and he said i had good karma. he repeated the trick with the paper tis time asking me a colour and number so i said blue and seven, and sure enough written down was the words BLUE and the number 7, amazing but what does it mean i wondered. and then he warns me in a very serious manner never to have any business partners and says, soon i will make quite a lot of money, and then he says, never wear black on tuesday, and i should pray in the morning and then feed the birds. something which my father would probably do. he shows me some pics of some orphans in india and asks for a donation, i slip him some cash and wander away, wondering what it all means and he yells out to me, 'you think to much, don't think.'
i slip into a passing crowd in a wave formation, like a skool of fishes, i disappear. later as i am wandering around the opposite end of the city a crippled indian man grabs me, 'you have a kind face.'
i say, 'i've already donated some money to the orphans today,' and he smiles and nods his head and i look kinda bewildered. 


yeah a kind face, soft eyes, that's me, old captain mission with the kind eyes wandering around in a big city looking for a book and finding a strange wandering band of hindu fortune tellers and mystics, truth is stranger than fiction brothers and sisters, that would be the title of my autobiography.

the process of liberation is a strange and dangerous path and requires self discipline, and commitment, trust and a very good knowledge of yourself through the eyes of detachment and objectivity. it is also important to understand that life results out of diversity thus possibilities of expression are found in diversity. the cultures that are most flexible, adaptable, inclusive and complex thrive as do individuals. 
to have individual qualities like these results in far more liberation than any power political structures, religious structures exert over oneself. read the 'gita' it's central message is:
the only war worth fighting is the war inside.
it is wrong to think that one belief is more liberated than another, certainly some allow more freedom to liberation than others but ultimately every new form of liberation leads to another form of enslavement, it is the potential to change that is important. we cannot be free in duality but we can attempt to choose the duality we live within.
the key to being free is not to limit oneself to the number of realities available, this is where multi dimensional thinking comes into play. get outside the box, expand the parameters, blow the mind open. it's an extremely uncomfortable thought as the journey includes loss of self, sometimes family, friends, society, culture, beliefs, opinions, ideas and the sense of belonging.
but my friends, remember to cast of ones shackles usually means adopting another set.
the best forms of liberation are the ones which weaken the hold on society, convention and habit. these will lead to a more expansive outlook and can be considered very dangerous but the methodology is ancient and proven despite being very confronting.
the map laid out by my predecessors suggest certain techniques and rather than repeat them i will sum them in a simple straightforwards way.


profanity or sacrilege- energy can be released via a profane act, this can be as complex as breaking a religious taboo or sexual one to something like questioning authority, basically anything which is considered revolting or taboo, just don't harm anything. in ye olde days it was usually sacrifice of an animal, a homosexual sex act, or for the black schools setting fire to a bible, or reading the lords prayer backwards and all that stuff. i think it's far healthier to respect the religions and schools of thought and just break your own taboo's or absolutes. for example i will eat meat or drink alcohol at least once a year as this stops my own self from being to fixed with my beliefs.
heresy - check out the ideas that appear insane or extreme, nonsensical, and discover that the ones you cling to are actually equally as bizarre. whatever you suppress contains a telling counterpoint to mainstream ideas. in arguments disagree with your opponent, especially if they voice your own view. these days this comes naturally to me, because i find most people know nothing about what they are talking about, the world has been dumbed down to such a low level that it is easy to argue with anyone about anything. most people i know believe the exact opposite of my own beliefs anyway. for example if i discuss my previous lives with some one and they begin to display a certain verbal scepticism i have the skills to destroy their arguments. 
iconoclasm - this is hard but understand the space that exists within human affairs in theory and practice, means and ends. contrast porn and romance, gluttony and famine, consider violence as entertainment, look at what goes on in the name of religion and consumer society. relish the cacophony of fantasy, neurotic impulse, psychosis which guides sensationalist culture towards it's inevitable end. human folly is without limit, cynicism, sadness and laughter is the magickians privilege.
the body - the body is your temple and therefore holds more knowledge than any library. it requires sex, food and a transcendence satisfied with love, humanitarian work or artistic scientific or magickal pursuit of truth.liberation is needed.
power authority and greed for sensory experience are the aberrations of these.
self destruction - while you avoid the conventions you are still left with a mass of idiosyncrasies, prejudices and identifications which give comfort and definition to the ego or personality. self destruction is a rite of passage and unfortunately hardwired into our psychology, but without the correct map is not understood as a metaphorical process, which is why so many people actually self destruct.
an idea cannot be said to be understood until you understand the conditions under which it is not true.
the same goes for personalities.
therefore the principle of anathemism should be practiced upon oneself. this can include embracing the things you loathe until they are no longer loathed, scheme against the beliefs you hold most dear, you have to witness the loss or putrefaction of everything loved while reflecting upon the transient nature of all things. examine all you believe in and destroy it.
the personality becomes stuck to the face, the human spirit becomes a mess of petty identifications, the most cherished principles are the greatest lies, in magick the intellect is a sword and used to prevent identification with any phenomena encountered. the strongest mind clings to the fewest fixed principles. 


the only clear view is from the top of the mountain of your dead selves.


this all sounds dark and a process that has no light, however what i have just described is basically tibetan buddhism without the frills for the middle classes. i mean how many housewives would spend a year in a room with a dead body while it decomposes so they understand the nature of impermanence. 


the methods above is a sure fire way to liberation, alternatively one can use a psychedelic path which may take a couple of really strong does on some super strong lsd, or plant medicines, and some good insight or guides to steer you along the trip, or the tibetan tantric path which may take 20 years or more or as i have mentioned in earlier posts trauma can take you there very quickly with the right healer to guide you through. 
i do think that this magickal map is the best way, certainly because it is a map and the explorers that have come before have taken great lengths to offer you a safe and fully understandable experience although unless you prepared to allow your boundaries to dissolve the map can never be read and the way is closed.


as i have a genetic predisposition towards these things they are second nature to me but the mind can be trained and these exercises will assist.

a man should be free, free from the past, free from his program, free from what people think off him, what he chooses to do, who he chooses to be and how he chooses to explore his universe should be his own choice and non restricted by any law, uncovering his truth and then acting in accordance with what he feels his purpose is providing it does not harm another persons true purpose or will. in order to attain ones true will one needs to do some preliminary groundwork. in magick this is known as conversation with holy guardian angel or augoeodies, this can be reached through traditional magickal methods or by focusing on perfecting, motionless, breathing, non thinking, magickal trances, object and sound and image concentration which results in transmutation of the mind to magickal consciousness. the ability to change oneself has more power over the ability to change the external universe. 

duality must be transposed, despite being the minds default position, which is why we are suffering in-between moments of joy.

laughter is the antidote and therefore perfect as a banishing act, it has no fundamental opposite. 

non attachment of your own thoughts protects against obsessions.

the metamorphosis of the self and acts of magick must be recorded in what has been known as a magickal diary, or perhaps in my case a magickal blog.

in order to undertake a process such as the magickal one we must by pass what is known as the rational mind, for this will filter out the magickal universe.

as i have mentioned earlier in the blog there are very good ways to do this and the process is known as gnosis. my preferred methods are sex, plant medicines, sleep depravation and dreaming. don't mix and match methods, chose and work with one each ritual, there's a huge range you can chose from including, anger, sensory overload or depravation, trance, gazing, fasting, chanting, pain, drumming, fear, concentration etc you will find the ones that work for you through your own experimentation. once perfected it becomes second nature to hack the psychic filter or rational mind, i am considered totally nuts by most people i know, but this is because i work in a consensus reality and operate in another. the 'totally nuts' over time just becomes slightly eccentric or quirky and this is almost accepted although not quite, the magickians path is lonely but it will attract interesting and like minded people to, especially children, whom are able to see themselves in you.

experiment with the gnosis that suits your own brain / mind / body most people prefer sexual gnosis, this can be done solo but it's much better if you have a willing and receptive partner. the scarlet woman or whore of babylon are exalted roles and should always be treated with the upmost respect and care, for they are the magickians cup to his wand. i've found sexual partners whom find the magickal aspect of sex very beautiful and arousing and surprised me by their willingness to learn and experience and then there's some who revert back to their frightened morality and tag you with the judgement of evil or perverted, which is why tantra is used more often instead of sex magick, it's user friendly. remember to the initiate all sex is an act of devotion first.

well i can't say it's been a brilliant year but there have been some peak moments, the sk stuff, the solo gig upstairs in that little italian joint was great, the award for the hall of fame was pretty amazing, the david neil gigs were fantastic especially the dee why one where sk made videos and i hung out with rickey and steve, sam and wilde childe back stage, the amazing night at the enmore. man those just were the perfect moments. i mean how many people get to be friends with their heroes and then find out that their hero does not disappoint them in any way what so ever, in fact it helps validate your taste in heroes when the rest of the world suddenly works out why this person is so exceptional? 


then there was some lovely times with miss cupcake before the drinking, there was also some brilliant times with val and olga, the recording of snuff music was a brilliant process, the content is good, and evan and leanne who told me they are expecting a baby, that was pure joy for they are such wonderful people and i guess those moments when i chat with jake on skype or the phone are great to because we can't get further away geographically, there are quite a few books i read that really were fantastic, especially the rick moody book, 'the four fingers of death' but also the moonchild book which i re-read recently, i enjoyed it and learnt quite a bit along side reading it with the biography which once again validates the work of an anti hero, someone society excluded from history, who it turns out they say was the most wickedest man in the world when he was actually another fucking genius. 


my works been great but all in all it's been a year of blows that have really tested me, blows below the belt, right in the balls. it changed me, made me more defensive, less trusting and slightly harder to reach and i had to deal with it, all the time it sat there inside me fucking up my aura until i retreated to where i have to go. the magickal will. that fortress is impenetrable but it's also quite functional and works.


and my friend tim who assisted write my defence, completely different from my own one which just spoke the truth, he was kind enough to point out truth has nothing to do with a court room, and he spent a lot of time with me, during which i got to see his genius in action. 


it's been a year of breaking off old friends and making new ones, a year of strange turbulence but i managed to get through and now it's 2012 and we are all heading onwards to meet fate and i am focused, on track and happy. stronger, smarter, and closer.


dear readers, i wish you the best for this year, i believe that it's important to find your place, your  position in the 2012 shift, this is only done by intuition, trust it brothers and sisters for it will not deceive you, believe in the power of love, believe in the universe as an intelligent feminine principle and get in touch with the part of it that exists within yourself. i will show you how to do this in the next few weeks. 

a great atmospheric ghost story set on a remote norwegian outpost island where the elements are at their most severe. a young man finds himself alone and manning a weather station while experiencing some strange echo's from a past event. there's a terrific sense of realism, an absorbing and intelligent story, again easy to read, i read it in under two days.
the writer captures the desolation of the artic regions and what it does to men, she also builds the tension up so that you're turning pages faster to find out exactly what happens at the end. it's not the best ghost story but it's a good one.

gotta say people, isidore is amazing, 'life somewhere else' is so majestic, the songwriting and vocals are remarkable, i'm loving it and i'd recommend you get hold of a copy now, it really is quite an incredible piece of work. i'm totally reminded of william blake for some reason, songs of experience, not sure why, i guess it's all in the voice, a man that's seen far to much and longs for innocence again, knowing it won't return. i reckon william blake would love this music, it has everything he would approve of, from luscious deep oceans of soundscapes to lyrics that lift and descend into the glorious and tragic limits of humanity. 
so we have isidore and guilt trip ej on high rotation here in mission control, both outstanding pieces of work.

you must have taken the hypocritical oath, sworn to sword tongue barbarianism and brutality over love, you must have chosen this corruption because you have no insight for the heart of the poet. it was the poets who saw through the veil, pierced the occluded frontier, in trance cities they fell away the flesh, while the barbs of the daggers from the will of opposition attempted death blows, suffering and crippled the pen was always mightier than your bladed tongues and eyes, everything about you is sharp and caustic, like the fish hook of lies.
look waywards, across the horizon there lay's a place where freedom and peace await those who have journeyed, the road was filled with surprises and traps, it's a challenge, it's a trip, it's the journey we can't escape. 
some african witch doctor once told me my best friend would kill me, it was in the bush somewhere in the mountains of tanzania. he said i should pay him in gold and he would remove the act from my future, i said no, i can do it myself.
i can do it myself.
they say you need to keep your enemy close, i say it's better they are far away. 
i can do it myself.
i will do it myself.
i get protection from the people who do love me, i get protection from the universe that loves me, it's bestowing it's gifts upon us all, you just have to know how to receive them. 
i get protection from the spirits that live within my aura, guardians, servitors, angels and a few demons i've trained.
i get protection from my diet and dieta. you are what you eat, and drink...
i get protection from the velocity of my own history, self directed evolution, towards something better than myself, for the flesh is always weak, but the spirit is strong, i may loose my mojo but it's never far away, i may even loose my way but that's all part of the mojo, i may even take the occasional hit but that's okay for it tests my defences and belief systems. i protect myself by the white egg light radiating around me, with it's purple strands and yellow solar plexus, but it is the green heart charkra that protects me for despite the attacks that is stronger than the forces used against it.
i told you i'm protected.


the year took it's toll, started great but ended in madness and sadness and now everything is at rest, how fast things change.
i have some final notes on clusterfucks, call it 'an afterwards.'


no one really wins, it just fades away to where it came from and maybe you bear it well but it leaves a deep scar, a blemish and if it does not destroy you it will wound you and hurt you and maybe even wound others close to you. it will try to do this when it realises it's loosing the war. but the clusterfuck is just an experience and it's there to also test you, challenge what you know, it grows as you battle it, spreading out into different domains, money, family, travel, friends, work, self respect, love can't defeat it although it may be the best defence against total hatred which is exactly what it desires. for once hate fills you it has won.
yeah you come close to hating, i felt my anger reach out but i never really hated it, just felt sad and even that sadness was a passing energy. 
here against the clusterfuck, it is will over love that is necessary,love can't do it alone, it requires a little bit of shaping, the way perhaps a sword maker would shape his / her blade, for love needs force and force needs a will to command it and direct it. 
the clusterfuck is not worth fighting but sometimes it leaves you no choice, it's not something you feel you can just surrender to as it won't allow you that option. 


make a decision, fight, flee or surrender.
if you fight it's the hero's journey, mythical in it's structure and epic in breath, even an unexpected ally may appear from out of the blue to assist. choose your weapons, detachment, non attachment, psychic self defence, banish fear, invoke your spirit guides and face the battle knowing even if you loose you have won. this is not a judgement, merely a fact, for the clusterfuck is a self destroying energy, once you are gone it will turn upon itself again for clusterfucks obey the known laws of the universe, and for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.
the best strategy to win this war is of course to operate outside the known laws of the universe. however this is hard to reconcile when you are under constant attack and your own emotional structure is being tested. trust the process and above all else be indifferent to the outcome for it is the lust for result which will get you.

the martian ambassador

the martian ambassador is a quirky steam punk victorian novel set in a version of london not quite the london you or i would know, inventive, witty, well written and a great fast moving plot makes a trifectea in holiday reading. if you want something that's not challenging but none the less interesting and with a great plot, these are the ones. 

if you are looking for something that is imaginative, page turning and i guess dark fantasy these two books are the first in trilogies that are very worth while if you're wanting to fritter away a few hours on the beach, on a flight or just the bus, i read them very quickly and enjoyed the stories, they were not particularly challenging or demanding but riveting.
the writers are good and there was some remarkable surprises in both novels.
both are about young boys, old before their time, violent and in perpetual combat. there's elements of the supernatural and both have just enough humour to make them interesting.

i'm interested in coffee it's a good drink, it effects my brain in a productive way if i use it correctly and i have a coffee machine i depend upon when i desire a hit, it's a good machine, even john malkovich and george clooney like it. well it's fuelled by capsules that are rated on intensity and although my tastes are not so refined i do have my favourites. the silver / brown ones. 
so i set off into the city to restock my capsules, i buy in bulk so i don't have to go often but when i arrive the queue is massive and i give up thinking i have not got time to wait in a queue. i wander around the city, stopping off at a few bookshops looking for a particular writer but to no avail. on the way home i stop at the big shopping centre to meet a friend who fails to show, so i head back home when my phone rings, without going into a huge story i end up in a car that stops in a car park where a strange thin looking cat who is very loud yells at me, 'get out.'
i'm asking the driver whom is the only person i know whats going on and can i get a lift home, when the guy starts yelling, 'get out man we gotta deal to do.'
it all chunks in place and i hop out the car disappearing into the bowels of the car park.
junk addicts of this calibre all share one thing in common, while desperately trying to blend in they stand out. i don't have much experience of these types as my days were spent with a more sophisticated type but i hated this desperation and rudeness, and also the kind of unintelligible lifestyle that these chaps had created for themselves. call me an opiate snob but if you're going to meet the opium spirit do it in style. i know i sound like a judgemental nutcase but there's nothing worse than watching some cats attempting to act cool when they are actually sticking out like sore thumbs. 
i should point out that i was only hitching a ride so i could get some milk from the shop.
anyway i get home again and arianna calls, she's got me an xmas gift and wants to go for a walk, so we grab the dog and wander around the dog park, i open my present, it's the coffee capsules. a minor miracle?

hot sweaty lust, i lay there a spent force, covered in a weird male stink and feelings lethargic as the heat in the air and the humidity felt like a treacle limiting movement, i dragged my old body down to the mists of avalon where i attended a lunch with some old friends, people i have not seen for a long time, including my ex wife who is obviously discomforted by my presence but is quite gracious and we do enjoy a few laughs as i clown around, i do meet a lovely lady sarah who is a performance artist and pretty smart woman and her mother who is a kinda switched on lady with the gift of vision. 
later i catch up with the girls and exchange some pleasant time, we are all in flux between events so it's short and sharp and soon i am home, ready for the end of the day, it's been far to long for me, and the idea of an astral event looms close and i'm keen to explore this.

one day charles allan bennett and alister crowley were walking along the high street when they passed some theosophists who ridiculed bennett as he was carrying a magick wand which he had made himself from glass. allen promptly produced his and blasted one of them. it took fourteen hours to restore the incredulous individual to the use of his mind and his muscles. 
at 24 he went to the east, sri lanka to devote his life to buddhism taking his vows as a monk. when crowley attempted to reunite the friendship and get bennett on board, bennett said, 
"no buddhist would consider it worthwhile to pass from the crystalline clearness of his own religion to this involved obscurity.' 
it was the one friendship old crowley would miss above all others, and his respect for bennett never wavered as a mystic he was way beyond crowley's need for magickal intrusion onto reality crowley proving the idea which i have come to that magick is for those that invoke and evoke gods to become gods, the mystic surrenders to one god. the magick and mystic divide appears inseparable yet for me they are the completion, one cannot be a magickian without being a mystic and one cannot be a mystic without being a magickian, for both one needs direct experience of possibility and potential, the manipulation is the magickians realm, tweaking the parameters to make it happen, it's a role, a persona accessing part of the brain that is god like, the mystic is god and therefore has no desire or lust for result. crowley appeared to have understood this later in his life, he was never the persona we have all read or heard about. his information was channelled from the universe or an intelligence called 'awaiss' and it is highly likely this is extraterrestrial in origin as his sketches are very similar to todays grey alien likeness. 
represive english society treated crowley with the distain they do to things they cannot understand, it's obvious why his legacy lives on, he was great and his work was magnificent as was his life. the myth is a distraction from the reality, he was a man of integrety, and a spy for the english agaist all forms of fascism in the first and second world wars, here is a letter he wrote to the members who headed the german occult group.


'as for the ravings about jews they are unintelligible. almost the whole life in modern germany above brutality, stupidity, servility and blood thirst was jewish.'


the exploits of crowley are incredible, a man who gave the english the victory sign, as a magickal symbol, a man who set up some very complex counter spy networks in europe to serve liberty, a man who maybe gave einstein assistance the theory of relativity, a man who mastered mountains and yet was written out of mountaineering history  and a man who established the new age in a way no one could anticipate, we are indeed in his debt weather we like it or not. 
i finished the crowley biography and felt all the things i intuitively knew about him were true and all the horrible stories about him were nothing but propaganda and lies. anyone with an interest in the occult, science and mysticism should read this book, sure he had his faults but i think if i had met him i would have liked his mind because he was his own person, with the ability to think for himself critically and evaluate reality with great measure and insight. 
but it is allan bennett whom still draws me in, the man crowley and all his peers looked to for guidance, a white magickian who did not practice magick but remained in an enlightened state detached from everything. while reading moonchild i feel certain that the book is as much about bennett as crowley, and in a way that is the key to the books central message. 

merry xmas to wayne goddard who is a true bodhisattva even though he once tried to kill me, you're a good man with a good heart and sometimes killing me is the only appropriate thing to do. 


thanks to karen the irish witch and her redhead friend who was lovely last night and her cousin who made nice spliffs and to the people  whom i met, very cool as my mind sprawled across into deep meditative zones and thoughts.

xmas daze in australia have always been difficult for me, no family, no method, no guru no religion so i find myself following the flow, one year after the other surrendering to what will be will be, and this year i find myself visiting a friend i have not seen in several years. he has cerebral palsy, confined to a wheelchair, he's name is danny and i knew him about ten years ago when i took him out to nightclubs, bars and strip clubs. he always liked music, and enjoyed the vibe of a good band. we even bought him a keyboard which he played relentlessly, his head swaying just like that blind cat who played jazz and blues. danny still digs the music, i played him my cd as he opened up his xmas gifts, a new keyboard which i set up for him and let him rip into it, little blasts of sound, we set the rhythm track up and he played shorts bursts of dissonant organ, i'm clapping my hands and danny starts smiling and laughing and we get the groove going.
i sneak away while he explores the parameter of sound, i'm sitting on a sofa listening to him, watching him rejoice in some sort of ecstatic state and i'm thinking this is perfect, i wouldn't want to be anywhere else than here right now, today. 
as i prepare some salad for his lunch danny comes out of his room, he's crawling on the floor, laughing and swaying his head. man he's loud but i tell you, he's free in that laughter, happy as a clam. a lot of people make the mistake thinking danny has limited intelligence but he's actually quite funny and sharp, just has trouble getting people to appreciate that he;s more than his body. he sits down at the table and eats all his dinner, washing it down with a soft drink, satisfied he crawls down and into his room for some more keyboard. 


it's been a strange year, watching friends succumb to drugs, alcohol, stupidity, envy, greed, selfish whims and self destructive ways that cumulated in taking me down with them, i turned to ganesh for assistance and to magick, and to my own true self, i left behind foolish things, sacrificed everything put the cards on the table, the jokers and aces, touched the flame, incense and candle, drunk the amazonian wine that can only take you so far, i took the dream weaver and created my kingdom, walked upon water and maybe i drowned a little but i never once doubted my self, i know what's what. find out who you are stay true to that.


you can worship your dollars, your idols and sins, you can keep your little ego's for the game to begin, i don't need no illusion infiltrating my work, a little temptation leads to a world of hurt. 

i got my motives and they are known

i have my passions and their on the road (less travelled)

i know what i'm doing is inversely proportioned

as you watched it fall apart (unravelled)

i got my motives and they are obtuse

and i know what i'm doing makes no rhyme and reason

and you just call it madness

but i know that it's only

love over sadness

you can have your money in dollars and cents, the banks are the temples where you deposit intent, and you can have all the cash for that's not my thing, you can have your lies and web of deceit, a little propaganda on a dead end street.


have a great day to all my friends and family, stay true to your selves, follow your star for you all shine very bright in my universe and it's beautiful.