Thursday, July 28, 2011

few days off, time for the self, ho hum, i feel like i should head down to the botanical gardens tomorrow with my book and a large spliff, wander around and soak up the sun, recharge my solar panel, maybe actually do something social, my reclusive lifestyle needs a break. i spend far to much time talking to my dog and gazing at clouds, trees, waves or birds and not enough time with people. i'm not a misanthrope yet!
i have a visitor today my old friend lilly popped in for tea and cake only i have no cake and made her coffee with my amazing coffee machine as i'm out of tea, in fact at mission control we have a fridge filled with shamanic herbs and blueberries but not much else. oh there's chocolate in there.
anyways we spoke about family and tribe, we spoke about the mountains and the sea.
then my electronic mail decided to go nuts, it appears it's been hacked but i fixed it with some password changes and nifty technological wizardry. it's left me exhausted and a little frazzled.
i'm very sleepy and may have to have a siesta.
i did almost witness a big punch up this morning, people fighting over the carbon tax.
the carbon tax. a stupid solution to a simple problem. it's not even a carbon tax it's a tax on plant food, carbon dioxide, all they have to do is stop chopping down trees. one third of the amazon is about to be flooded, tasmanian forests are being destroyed more now than ever and the government suggests a carbon tax, how ridiculous. the solutions are so simple, protect trees and stop eating meat. i really feel like becoming an independent mp.  
i looked up all the political parties and the only one that i would feel any inclination towards is the australian sex party which actually has a really good sensible policy and represents the spirit of libertarianism relatively well. check out their web site and policies,  the most innovate and refreshing i've heard for many years.
i remember hanging out with madame lash when she formed the extra dimensionalist party, that was another great party, it lasted a few weeks in this big house in palm beach filled with artists and strange folk from the fringes, i met a girl in a devils costume, she had a nice pointed tail and we wrote a wish list down, three things we wanted to do together before she went away to live in italy. the list included, going to the hellfire club, which i had been to before when it first opened, it was down hill from there, never really reached the authenticity of the original, the other was go and see 'sandman and flacco' in 'the corridor of uncertainty' which was quite good, and then there was one more but i can't remember what that was. anyway we said goodbye in ranwick and never saw one another again.
peace out !    

Wednesday, July 27, 2011

the club of rome met in a plush floor of the rome cavalieri,, sure there were strippers and caviar, all kinds off exotic entertainment, some illegal substances were consumed and the room was dense with cigar fumes, and the faint waft  of excellent whiskey when they got down to business. 
this small group have enjoyed the trappings of unlimited wealth but hunger for something else, that lust that they tasted has them addicted, it infused into their bloodstream,like a vampire seeking more, it has taken over their bodies and reduced their existence to need. power is the ultimate drug. 
these are men, consumed by power over their women first, then their own lives and then outwards it spreads, influencing all political bodies who are weakened. only those people who can see through the smokescreen of manipulation, the clouds of illusion, the opaque language of media are immune to their glamour. it's so captivating, any ideologist would fall under it's spell. any reasonably educated / brainwashed student would be drawn into their web, the conspiracy behind all conspiracies lays open and revealed when you take of your memetic filters and look objectively at the situation. the club of rome sit back and watch as they pull strings and governments dance their tune, and citizens are helplessly sucked along in the terrible wake of an evil ideology that they don't even know exists. 

Monday, July 25, 2011

horror movies, the killer was you, i never saw that coming, the same as the hero, it's the way of ouroboros, you chase your own tail you will find yourself, you seek light you have to find the darkness, you search for death you find life, you can't escape the duality of existence, the wise man is the fool in this kingdom, step off over the ledge smiling and laughing, kicking or screaming, it makes no difference to gravity.

Saturday, July 23, 2011

in my time amongst the butterfly people i was given many gifts, they took me into their community and explained their culture as though i was a child in a nursery. my guide was kala who although presents as an analogue human differs in some outstanding ways, firstly her skin is a pattern of vibrant yellows, reds and oranges with traces of dark green, it's quite striking at first and then there's her beautiful wings, similarly coloured and patterned, the wingspan is huge, and strong enough to defy gravity, i discovered a hollow skeleton structure allows flight, the wings offer manoeuvrability and dexterity, as they use the air currents to propel them. kala had two antenna that protruded from her head, these were again multi coloured and patterned but were spiralled in shape, and could transmit electro magnetic information and chemicals, in much the same way as ants only the information was of a much larger and complex volume. as i had no antenna myself i was limited in understanding, thankfully kala was fluent in all earth languages.
she had nursed me since my crash. showing me kindness and nurturing as my bones healed, she wrapped me in a healing cocoon, fed me with her nectar and some sort of pulpy mash protein, i later found out was made from a flower with medicinal properties.
eventually i was mobile and reinvigorated. i told kala my story, how i had traveled across worlds and how i had crashed. her knowledge of things were incredible, she knew much about earth culture, saying that the species of butterflies upon earth communicate with her planet all the time, informing them as to how their colony was progressing and how the earth people were progressing in an evolutionary state. kala accepted human limitations, and she never once berated me for humanities folly. instead she took me to the citadels and nesting colonies, she introduced me to the councillors and elders and they in turn showed me much respect and humility. 
the butterfly people lived in peace and it appeared harmony with their planet, which sustained them. they had constructed their cities from what i would call polyps, an organic material, flexible and strong and curved as opposed to straight architecture, very feminine. they predominantly were peaceful and philosophical, they all seemed to have a place as individuals and seemed content. i never saw cruelty or violence, i never saw anything unethical or questionable.
kale told me of the ancient wars when they were forced to fight the moth people, who seemed to be a darker, more hostile and aggressive species, they were the dominators, and as bizarre as it may seemed wanted to destroy all colour from the butterfly civilisation and layer everything with their fine powdered dust. she showed me holograms of the moth people and they were indeed very frightening, my skin started crawling and i felt a panic in my blood at their sight. again human but dark creatures, with fangs and bright eyes that burnt red, they had long fingers and were covered in a dark dusty mist that seemed to cling to their skin. 
they were at war with all light, aggressively hostile to it, almost kamikaze. 
i shivered and asked kala to turn the hologram off. however it would only be a matter of months before i sight my first moth person, and the reality of them face to face is a lot more terrifying than the holographic representation.
however in the lead up to these events i was at peace, learning everything about the butterfly people, enjoying the nurseries, learning in classrooms, and making new friends with the young ones who treated me with a kind curiosity. sometimes kala would take me to sit in on council meetings and it was at one particular meeting i heard the first report of trouble in paradise. 
the head member of the council was a older female with, she introduced the topic with some gravity.
'one of our guards at the perimeter was found dead, investigation indicates he was murdered, and by all accounts it looks like a single moth person is responsible although we have had no sighting, teeth marks in the flesh and the blacked dusted body could only lead to this terrible conclusion... we have a moth person in our community.' she paused and then introduced the chief of security whose name seemed to sound like 'flow high.'
he stood before us, 'he was killed in the early hours of morning, while it was still dark, it appears as the high councillor has said a moth person is responsible, which means one is loose within the perimeter. my men are conducting searches and we think we will find him soon, it is only a matter of when. however this mothman must be regarded as very dangerous. he is here on a mission and until we know what that could be we need vigilance without panic or undue alarm. by a process of elimination we can only assume two reasons for this incursion, one the human captain mission, who is here with us, and i state very welcome to remain and will be afforded our full protection. but it is the other reason i fear is the most probable, the moth person is here to investigate our defences in light of invasion from the moth army, in which case we should, and i say this not lightly, prepare for war.'
there was an ominous silence that seemed to throw itself forwards in time.
i listened to them discuss the various defensive manoeuvres they had, i listened to them work out ways to carry on their lives while preparing for the worst and i listened to them look at various defensive strategies. 
later i asked kala to take me back to the wreckage of my craft, i wanted to salvage some weaponry. 
kalakala fell into rapturous delight at the words. 
yeah that's a being called 'kilbey' a true genus with the gift of art.
they repeated the name over and over and it sounded like a strange mantra.
i taught them the song, 'milky way' and as we wandered through the forests we all sang in harmony.
eventually we came to the wreck, a mass of twisted metal sticking out from the ground, and the fuselage of my ship sprawled across the soft earth. bits of metal shimmered in the sunlight, fragments of hull, meters high stood like a cathedral while lesser debris covered the area like a dangerous carpet. we had to traverse our way through the mess, the pathway was tricky and several times we had to go back and find a new way.
i found a few bits and pieces intact but nothing practical, some computers had survived, some data storage, i filled a bag with them, old films, books, some documentaries. i figured the butterfly peoples science division may be able to retrieve some of this, they had technology beyond imagination but rarely used it. eventually after hours trawling through the body of the wreck i found the weapons cache. i pulled out as much as i could, fortunately the security code still worked. and there was my weapon of choice, the moon powered zap gun.
i grabbed it like an old friend, wrapped the holster around me. 
i set the charges to do maximum damage and then we made our way back. when we were a few miles away i triggered the explosion, this way the moth people would never be able to use any of the remainder of weaponry that i could not bring back. i had what i came for, my moon powered zap gun.
the guard and kala seemed agitated and the guard flew ahead. kale refused to share her concerns but i could tell something wasn't right.
when we returned to the edge of the city i knew something was defiantly wrong. something serious. 
it was dusk when we were in visual range and it appeared as though the city was under attack. i could see the darkened mist hover above the city, and the smell was different, like a thick musk, unclean and ancient. light seemed to diminish, the bright colours were lessened in intensity and it was as though a dull monotone grey now reigned as the brightest colour, the rest was black, or darkened brown.
kala cried out and looked anxiously around, she whispered to me, 'the moth people' and then i saw one.
he flew across the sky above, missing us but none the less close enough to make out his form. about 7 foot long, winged and cloaked in a strange thick dusty mist, only his red eyes protruded and there in his hands was the head of a butterfly person. checking the charge on the gun i knelt down and fired, it struck him and he fell out from the sky. the charge was enough to stun not kill but in a few moments it would be charged to kill, given it was now night and the two moons hung in the sky.
both kala and i ran towards where the body lay.
it was on all fours when we arrived and i pointed the gun at it's head.
it slowly turned its head, those red eyes burning into my body, like a horrific nightmare. about four feet away lay the head of our guard who had escorted us.
the beast laughed, like a hyena, a cackle. i was uncertain what to do, i looked at kala, she looked terrified, her antennae tremored and her she was biting down on her bottom lip. 
'what do you want from us?' i said.
'to turn your world moth dust,' he reached out to touch me and a fine spray of dust seemed to emit from his fingers and hands.
some of it settled upon my chest, and i felt something leaving my body, as if it was sucking all the heat, but it was not heat, it was something else.
i pulled the trigger and turned the moth man into moonlight.
kala threw water upon me, she told me to take my shirt of and i struggled to get it off me. within moments the dust had spread across the whole garment and turned it black.
'what is that stuff kale?'
'moth dust, it's organic and intelligent but can only live by absorbing all light, it is like anti matter.'
'anti matter! how do you fight anti matter?'
'the only way is with white light.'
we started walking into the city.
i was deep in thought, white light, white heat, i could use an ancient defence against these people, i could use magick, that would work effectively, but i would have to strike the source of the moth empire, the queen.

Friday, July 22, 2011

in my trans-human future, i ascended the silver skywalk into the lunar powered almighty cosmic skyship, my robot voidroid accompanied me offering me a choice of stimulants from a variation pack. i'd already dropped some 'nice and easy' and about half an hour ago taken some 'mushroom clouds' that were about to peak so i declined, already my fingertips trembled and my head started to phase. 
we took the skylift and above us the metallic sheen glimmered in the ambient light while below the silhouette of trees cast an eerie landscape. a bat flew under us and i could see it's radar scan the floor, i'll miss these creatures, they have a familiar cuteness and reminded me of home. 
i fine tuned my helmet to extra visionary blue and saw the trail of tears across the planet, almost forming a wave, it was to much, to fast, on top of my shroom high, so i flicked the channel to a different wavelength and stuck with a passionate pink as a sexy wave of tingles filled my vision. ah... romance.

i took my place in the module and ran through the launch sequence while the voidroid tended to the details. i punched in some codes and did some mental gymnastics with the coordinates and ftl matrix, all quite challenging when you have small arrows of eros pounding the inner dimensions of your mind.
voidroid must have completed the rest of the sequence as i can't recall what happened next, i sunk into some strange visions, lots of micro live tangents, one involved an insect army who seemed amused at the fact i was a biped. in fact the queen wanted me to impregnate her as an interspecies breeding experiment but my conscious mind kicked in and expelled her and her hive back to their dimension where i believe they were exposed to a virus that destroyed their species by inception of paranoid fantasies. 
another vision involved a city of spore like beings, they floated through the breeze and the mushroom like towers like soft feathers in a current of warm air. these spores used a kind of photosynthesis to convert sunlight into energy but they also were very philosophical. many of them postulated various philosophical movements, some quite radical others of a spiritual nature. i was reminded of the western  philosophies of earth and how they contrast to the eastern ones, but here in this tangent the spores were content to think out their ideas, sharing them as a community but dispensing with them if there were any faults within the framework, they were evolving philosophy towards perfection, a perfection of sorts, depending upon your spore consciousness. in fact the spores were emptying their minds, reaching a zen like state, it was the opposite to human copiousness which seemed heading towards entropy.
i would have liked to linger longer in that particular tangent but the shrooms were wearing off, and i was beginning to perceive the control room, and the screens, flashing lights, graphs and the flashing luminosity of my instrument panel.
voidroid offered me a coffee and a data chip, i downloaded some news from home, watched some old dramas and watched my mail videos. 
home. it would be good to return although my wife would be long departed. my son would be dead and his children to, although i may be able to meet his defendants. no doubt they would be waiting for me at entry-point. 
entry point was the main spaceport on anteries 7. it was a beautiful complex crystalline structure, i had spent my youth wandering through it's cathedral like chambers and spires. it was magnificent and opulent, jewelled walled and high ceilings, spires towering above the clouds, piercing heaven. i must have been smiling as my memories took me back, but at the same time a bittersweet loss left a bad taste in my mouth as i looked at the photograph of libby, holding ziggy our son wrapped in a purple blanket. 
voidroid assisted me climb into stasis, i spoke to him as if he would understand, he went through the motions but could never really empathise. i was somewhat surprised at the sound of my voice, it had been a long time.
'i miss them voidroid.'
he took the photograph from me and secured my hands. he closed the door upon me and released the valve. liquid xononox flooded into the pod and entered my lungs which spasmed slightly as they adjusted, and then slowly darkness came.
wrapped up in a big berlin overcoat, looking like a dark knight in a darker night with out a horse with no name, in a strange game called if you see me walking down the street walk on by, talking hoops with the squares, poor little rich girls, sympathy for the demons, sanctity for me, serenity for the devil and severity for an angel on the head of the pin doing a pole dancing routine in a bar with blue lights, taking your clothes off to a false idol singing it's a nice day for a white wedding. i looked at you, you looked at me, but we both pretended not to see the obvious.
i'm driving underwater, in my blue submarine, listening to the radio, talking about a carbon tax, i jump through a hoop at the traffic light of surrealism, i smoke a quick jazz cigarette at the cross roads of convenience, i'll never pass that way again, don't wanna get lost in paradise of fools high upon the hill with a view, cutting edge stuff sold in white bags and bottles of dreams all under a key. ha!
life promises nothing, ain't that true little baby.

well here i am driving down floods, stopping off at my friends for tea and cake, here i am again, man about town, with pan the great dog, i love that god, we travel together, towards a raging fireplace and untold dinners that they saved for you. he's sprawls out in front of the fire place, as i play snuff music to a select committee of people.
it's a groovy little happening, spontaneous save for the carefully planned bits.
later i watch a french bike race and feel spent, exhausted, ready to enter nocturnal eternity, my phone rings. i take the freeway but the floods closed the road, we detour, we see the cities ripped backsides, we drive a little further and the destination is a frozen area of time and space where water penetrates until solid, where nothing but the ice maiden awaits in her white dress and shoes with her long hair all tied up and her glasses all horned and rimmed with her stern look and fixed glare and i race up those stairs to melt her with my moon powered zap gun.
and now i sit at my desk, writing my words, finishing of my herbs and seven spices, getting warmer and warmer, listening to the radio info byte sizes, as the euro crashes, as america goes under, as the mid east collapses, as the carbon is taxed as the amazon is flooded, as refugees protest, as media barons break, as cracks appear on the surface of things, foundation slips, slides away, walls fall, ceilings come down and all that's left of you is a pool of cold water which will turn to steam as i apply heat.

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

the rain falls, it falls and falls, i have to leave mission control to get me some supplies and pick up some mail. i check the surf out on the way and it's messy. i meet some people and chat with them for a little while about something or the other, i get my supplies and return home ready to prepare a spinach pie. okay well i've had some spinach pies in my time, some brilliant, in adalaide i had a spinach pie every morning with my coffee for two weeks, that's what i lived on and it was bliss, the best spinach pie ever. then once i found a dealer in collaroy, a nice germanic lady who offered to keep me in supply but she suddenly had to pack up and leave, since then it's been very hard to find a quality spinach pie.
val's mother once made me one but it was later revealed this was not spinach but silver-beet. it was very good none the less. then one day val himself made me one, it was pretty amazing and i'd have to say rates highly. but that was about six months ago.
so it's been a long time between spinach pies. i have been known to drive across the city to locate a source but im usually disappointed. 
this morning i made a spinach pie for myself, loads of spinach, an onion, some butter and milk, some feta, some ricotta, layers of filo. 
20 mins later i am the spinach pie god.
perfect for a rainy day.

Monday, July 18, 2011

walking through the park, i was being led by pan, he was following a trail. he was single minded in his pursuit, and i've nothing better to do than follow. my arm hurts as he pulls me along, his nose following some hidden force, what strange information must lay within this hidden passage, pulling pan along with a sincere conviction that whatever lays at the end is worthwhile. we pass the homes of strangers, an apartment block, some people want to stop and stroke pan but he's a force to be reckoned with now, no time for distractions, i'm somewhat curious about where this will end. we are off road now, walking through the park, large trees stand looking down upon us, pan leaves a message at each trunk base, and then resumes his hunt. we walk along another street, not stopping for anything, if anything pan appears to be even more driven. eventually we come to a dog park, the one that backs onto pittwater. pan looks at me, yeah i guess i can take him off the lead now. as soon as this happens he's gone, bolting down towards the water, past the doberman and the labradors that chase the ball, past the tiny rat dogs that yap around a lady's feet. he's running straight to a lone hound, a rottweiler, a female.
mystery solved.

Saturday, July 16, 2011

being stuck, in-between books, can't make a decision on what book to start reading, so i have about five happening but the idea of commitment to one is sending me mental like an autistic loop, i need to just pick one. and then there's the new deep fix project, that's happening as information downloads are occurring rapidly, ideas are germinating and sprouting yet the concept is very difficult to articulate, i may just need to draw this one out and let the words come later. i have the whole finished concept in my head, it's now just the breaking it into a narrative that's somewhat linear and descriptive in a language, especially as i use words, the music will be easy as i can describe that and val and my fellow musicians will transcribe.
this is the process of creation i guess, it's such a pure thing, divine. very kabbalistic. i often wonder if plato was versed in kabbalistic knowledge, i'd have to say yes, the greek culture was undoubtably influenced by the hebrew and the hebrew from the sumerian and the sumerian from the pleades i guess. anyway the ancients had a good relationship with symbolic representation, i think as the brain evolved and became two hemispheres, things began to shift in terms of our relationship with the universe. consciousness began to accept the duality, yet that is the illusion of reality and therefore the illusion of language.
anyways i gotta chose a book to read.

Friday, July 15, 2011

in 1990 i lost my mind. it was with the keys, on my kitchen table, however i had lost my kitchen table living in that house with you, after my divorce, i was there for about a week, like a ghost, i was haunted and yet a ghost in my own home haunting myself. you and i sat in that empty shell as i burnt all the wooden tables, chairs, wooden kitchen implements and basically the whole interior of what was left of my home. i burnt it all to keep warm with you, and then as i chucked the last fucking chopping board into that big fire place i knew i would have to leave. 
the next night i was living in glebe with nothing save a few cds, a mattress and clothes and that black hole in my chest. took me four years to heal that wound. anyways i lost my keys and it felt like i lost everything, jake it felt awful and i was hurt bad but only blame myself. it was awful for me as well to have to deal with the child support agency but they were easy compared to your mum, who was just angry. and she had every right to be, i fucked up and made a mistake, but it wasn't a big mistake, it wasn't a mistake, it was just my inability to communicate because i was so in shock by everything. really in shock, i was stunned at your mums reaction and anger. i always am when i see any women get angry, it's something that don't fit into my scheme of reality, women generally being so much better than men but to be honest they are just so full of anger and it's because of men, i get that now, so i have tried to be a better man, i try hard everyday, and still i fail occasionally. it's okay to fail man, it's really okay to make stupid mistakes, as long as you don't obsess about them or get to attached to them, don't place to much on their significance either, just process it in a way that works, and let it go. letting something go is the process actually. it's good to let everything go including the attachment to be right. mental constructs are things we get attached to as well and they can entrap you just as much.
so sometimes you gotta let things go, sometimes you gotta fight to keep them, but its a discernment you pick up. anyway loose your keys, loose your mind, loose your house, loose your wooden table, loose your mind a little more, loose your boy friend or girl friend but don't loose your heart. 
that's all.

in the studio val and i are hard at work, actually val is hard at work, he's mastering the snuff music cd, i'm just creating space and sending good vibes into the environment, the small little studio room is covered in black sound absorbing material and its very dark, i'm rolling big spliffs and attempting to fine tune my listening skills becuase what val does is way beyond me, he's amazing hearing stuff that i certainly can't, within a cacophony of sound he can tune into the individual note or vibration a string on a guitar makes. for me it's all feel, the totality is the important bit, i guess the energy of it, how strong it is, how it effects me and changes me when i feel it. i close my eyes and if i find myself carried somewhere out of my physical body then i think the music is working, if the visions take me in to other realms then i'm usually very happy. i need that from what i create. i want my listeners to share that experience in their own way, that's all. don't worry about attaching a value to it, it's crap, it's good, it don't matter as long as it works.

any ways we are in the room for most of the day and when the night comes we are tweaking, twiddling into the morning listening to each song and making final adjustments.

we break this stage into two stages and have a long walk, on route through the park, i decide about the next deep fix project, something i am excited about.

a man comes in to interview us, he asks what type of questions he should ask, i say, 'just make them up.'

it's my first interview, i don't know, i'm not myself, quiet, introverted, socially awkward, nope, i'm very talkative and chatty. it's the first of many interviews, each interviewer will be a different person, this one being val's friend stephano who has a band called 'the snakemen' he's a nice guy i met him a few times now and he's always been a real gentleman to me, smart guy, been around the block, knows all about everything, anyways each person can ask whatever questions they want, the more imaginative the better and we will do our best to answer them although anythings possible, we may even get around to talking about the music. 
strange few 48 hours i awoke a drunk man, with blurred consciousness doing stupid things, saying stupid things and behaving stupid to everyone i encountered. it was as if a naughty elf had now taken over captain mission, from the moment i awoke until i got to the studio i was cursed with this affliction, and there seemed nothing i could do, until i started making music. anyway it's nearly sunrise and it's bed time.
more later.

i am haunted by a face who leered at me while i was on the david neil. he came out of the crowd followed by a lady and looked into me, quite profound, not a little unnerving but i think they were harmless, but i feel like i recognise that man, and i wanted to talk to him, the lady smiled as they left but i still see them around me, and that was about a week ago i think.

i need to clean my dog, i've really got to hang out with him tomorrow and give him some love.

Wednesday, July 13, 2011

jesus fucking christ! i could use some global warming around here. it's freezing and my extremities are feeling it. my tropical soul needs some sun and heat, it likes to sweat and relax, lounge around in a hammock, reading and sipping on cold coconut drinks, wrapped in a sarong and discussing eastern mysticism with a girl from new mexico.
i've regenerated my body somewhat slept a deep sleep, got my hair cut and beard trimmed, a change of clothes, showered and smelling of the orient i have wandered into my lounge, over run by books i have to chose a new one to read, something amazing as i just finished a mediocre thriller, a plot in which i guessed the ending very early onwards. sigh, i need something exceptionally escapist, maybe some sic fi or fantasy.
speaking of which the book show was on last night, with jennifer byrne the darling of the abc, while she is not and excruciatingly painful to watch as her husband andrew denton, she really has very little idea about interviewing writers and it was obvious she had not read her guest lev grossman's book 'the magicians' which is pretty brilliant as far as fantasy goes, being subversive and brilliantly executed. they mostly kept the conversation down to dragons and magic but lev kept the intelligence up when he mentioned the emotional aspects, how through fantasy writing one's emotional energy is exaggerated to an all powerful heightened level where one can alter reality. apart from that it was pretty lame. the usual debate about weather faintest is hi literature and the marketing tools. interesting science fiction was considered even less accessible than fantasy as fantasy sells more. in fact publishers rather put books out under any genre than sic fi as matthew rielly confessed. the problem is not one person mentioned the fact a mills and boon romance is just as much a fantasy as lord of the rings. fantasy is just the imagination without restriction, there's no laws when writing it, the dead sea scrolls could be fantasy.

Sunday, July 10, 2011

sunday morning, i've done my earthbound duty, i did my deeds, i unfurled my freak flag and my constitutional mandate for love, i took my oath to defend the light, i meditated upon all that's bright, i whispered an incantation to the goddess and her mate, i smoked a jazz cigarette for the ones that i left behind and praised jah for the ones that are about to enter my sphere of influence. i go out for a quick debrief with my old friend tim and when i turn around i am met by the fairy girl i met about a year ago, amie, looking vibrant and gorgeous and holding a book for me which considering i had not seen her since that first meeting over a year ago was a coincidence. we hug, i don't wanna let go but do and then launch into a big discussion about our lives and promise to meet again soon.
she's wearing her wings and smoking a spliff, children look at her and i whisper 'it's kinda like a pregnant nun.'

Friday, July 08, 2011

driving back at 2am i am stopped by a squad of police, thankfully i am not carrying nor under the influence of the sacred green goddess but i am blasting david neil and looking somewhat dangerous from a police perspective, i have dark skin, i'm wearing a hood, and i'm dressed in black plus i'm not intimidated. these are all qualities a policeman dislikes generally. he asks me where i am going to and where i have been, i explain...
'david neil, preformed by kilbey and maymi in newtown, you know the dead canadian rockstar, the one who dies three times.'
he's looking at me strangely, 'have you been drinking?'
'no i don't drink at all.'
he looks suspicious, 'count to ten.' he shoves a black box into my mouth and i take a long moment to reorganise my personal space, i reach 8 and he lets me go.
yeah david neil, let me tell you about that, wow, i didn't plan on going, i hadn't organised a ticket plus i am stone cold broke but my friend rehan rang me and asked if i was going, so i agreed to meet him inside. as usual i arrived early and i thought i'd get a ticket when maymi who is standing outside invites me inside and organises a cup of tea for me. what a gentleman, we chat a bit about his background, being a decendant of the tubes and the grateful dead, he is from san francisco and he has excellent knowledge on all things musical and best of all he is his own man, an individual, i like him, it's easy to relax around him, he invites me into the small dressing room, it's tiny, there's a deflated raft laying on the floor, we both wish we had some weed, but we enjoy a little chat about dmt and various methods of ingesting. later i end up at the merchandise desk, steve drops a bag of cds off and unfortunately i only manage to sell one. i really try hard but everyone wants the band they just saw. the gig itself was amazing, i really enjoyed it, quite different from the beach road, very nice clean sound for the most, the highlights were, 'neverness hoax' but also 'cockpit' which is a david neil tune, to be fair it was a very good show, the band are excellent, steve was perfection and ricky maymi was spectacular despite the fact he did not really feel the love from the crowd who were a bit lifeless. but from where i was it was brilliant. really brilliant. i got to meet wild child, and see tim and a venusian called skeet, glen, sam who looked amazing and rehan, i flirted with a waitress who had bumped her head earlier that afternoon and was a bit nervous, i had said i would be happy to keep an eye out for her and if she feels shaky come and tell me and we can swap places, she was fine. yeah it was another excellent night, and i love the david neil cd but really, you should see this stuff live. it was a shortish set but quality wise, it don't get much better.

Thursday, July 07, 2011

catching david neil at the beach road, my friend lilly and i pay homage with a smoke and we wander down the avenues and back streets parking her little bubble, traversing the wind, hit the wall of testosterone and girls shrieks from the football fall out, apparently its some sporty night and the bar is filled with drunk morons and their clone girls, all howling out about some drama. we wander through where dutch peirre comes over and says hello, the support band make me tense, they are young guys with that faces, stones, pub rock kinda feel, they have lots of fans in the crowd and they look like classic rock stars, nonchalant and yet groovy, the opposite of the way i would look on stage, self conscious awkward and out of place, no these young characters have the chops and bravado but their music is boring and drives me mental. then hail, it's david neil, kilbey and maymi and some very good musicians take the stage, maymi looks like an orthodox jewish mystic in his hat and with his moves, he's dabbling in esoteric noise, creating some sort of sonic vortex drone, it's immediate and everyone enters the spirit of the thing, lilly and i both look at one another and confess we travelled back to 1967, she stayed in australia up the coast while i was in california. 
i have the cd in my ipod and know all the words, it was great singing along to these obscure lost classics. lilly and i enjoy every second, steve plays guitar and sings he is the maestro, his voice is perfect, it's changed, inhabiting a different persona, yet distinctive as his voice. by now everyone is going mental, people stand up on tables and lilly asks very politely if they would climb down cos we can't see anything, there's a drama at the bar, girl fight, some people start dancing at the front, during 'comedown' someone sings out loudly in my ears, dutch pierre takes his jacket off and goes down the front. old captain mission is wearing new boots, he sits down watching the show, soaking it all in, 'the neverness hoax' is the standout, really brilliant and then the sing along romantic song whose name i don't know, 'still in love with you' or something, what a hit single if ever there was one. it's from jack frost.
then gone, we disappear into the cold night, home for cocoa and cinnamon drinks and hot water bottles, i know that's not very rock and roll but  i like it.

Wednesday, July 06, 2011

kudos to madame fortune who has expressed in the most honest terms something that very few manage to do, her secret is her mastering of her own ego. she describes in the 'the mystical qabalah' the idea that the mind has its limits and when it reaches a certain point must be left at the veil. this is extremely profound and related to quite modern magical thought, especially my own which acknowledges the ego is the magicians enemy. no powerful mage can be successful unless the ego is in check and it's motives understood. while reading fortuna i am struck by her respect for the tradition, something very few occultists have, often plagiarising the concepts and not acknowledging the source in any high regard. i think fortune has the edge over crowley here, something i myself acknowledge through the female aspect of my soul, whereas crowley was so caught up in his own domination. here we have the feminine principle applying balance, the 'the mystical qabalah', becomes one of the better books i have read on this subject.
anyone who has an interest in this subject would be wise to read it.
i've been thinking about kabbalistic system in judaism, reserved for those over 40 years of age, which actually makes sense once you delve into it's experiential ideas, how can anyone who has not lived a full and rich life comprehend the ideas behind it. it's remarkably similar to the medic system in some ways, and i can see connections to buddhist thought as well. as fortuna points out, this is the yoga of the west. 

Tuesday, July 05, 2011

i continue my sojourn dressed in octarine, transversing the realms, the wandering jew, the meandering magickian, the elclipsian nomad, the wanderer of the stars, you may see me with my strange beard, my deep sad eyes, my shaved skull like head, those strangely dense elements that dance around me like a battalion of naughty elves. you may see me with my head in a book, my heart in a forest, my mind in the stars and think, 'who is this freakazoid?' but the answer can never match your confinement, so i guess i am just a shadow, an enigma, a haunted presence that hovers in your periphery, to delicate to hold onto and grasp, like smoke, to elegant to match my awkward body, a paradoxical joker, who's fleeting thoughts are like the wind, and who's identity is never fixed to anything other than the way and whose laser vision cuts through truth like a sharp machete through a birthday cake, stand back, stay safe, avert ye gaze for he wears the colour of magick.
other simple tricks are put aside, although the romantic interlude is sometimes worthy, to find the soul partner is but a wonderful pursuit, for much magick can occur in this condition, but soul partners often have to wait life times to find one another and sometimes it's messy when they do, sometimes it's just enough to know that your soul partner is out there, doing what they do. soul partners may not be ready for one another, they may just not know until fate sends them on a collision course, like the halidron collider, smashing atoms together, observing the creation of something new from something familiar, love and non locality. she is out there..
it's important when you meet your soul partner to acknowledge there may be some resistance from one party, this is just ego shit, fighting against the truth, sometimes it's quite violent and destructive. in these situations it's best to withdraw and let things settle, often the heart will fight a quiet battle with the ego.
when everything is established it's important to remember that although you are individuals you are also something else a third 'entity.' this is highly valuable to understand, the identity of this third force is very powerful and should be considered sacred. it needs protection and affirmation from the separate comments, it needs nurturing and to evolve and grow, it requires an understanding beyond the mental constructs of trust and love, it is driven by it's own destiny, and often perfect for creation, manifesting into children or some other act of creation. however it can just be maintained as something pure that is shared between two individuals, others will notice this quality and it will appear as magickal, it will create magick in turn and the lives of the two individuals be enriched. such is the power of soul partners who are together.
outside down on the street wind stirs up everything, it blows through the streets and houses, trees bend, animals are spooked, invisible forces interrupt their rest, the birds require extra skill to fly, and the people all complain. me i like it, it's blustery and you need to wear a scarf and drink cocoa, it's a good day for reading.

Monday, July 04, 2011

dressed in my octarine cloak i wander down to the market where tradespeople peddle their wares, gifts, trinkets, pet monkeys jump and somersault, birds chirp and hoot, colour explodes into the visual kaleidoscope and faces loom out from the crowd, one is particularly noticeable for she appears familiar and somewhat safe. she asks me what book i am carrying, it's fortuna's mystical qabalah and she expresses delight, asking me questions, then elaborates on her walking excursion, eight k's a day, 'wow, i exclaim, that would take at least a day.' she laughs and we talk about our dogs that are involved in some canine mating ritual. we swap numbers, names and some peripheral information, arianna which means holy, she talks of greek myth and mentions an island i am familiar with, we skim implanted memory of places we have never physically been, mine of athens, hers of paris, she tells me she wants to open a kabbalah centre then we enter the void of the multitude, she sends me a text later saying she has been to my house before as a water consultant or something, i have a vague memory of my landlady organising some one to assess the water in mission control many years ago. 
the market place tires me and i stroll home with the dog, contemplating my day, getting ready for the challenge ahead. i watch a film called the illusionist, i enjoy it, but fall asleep halfway through, dreaming about a friend of mine, wondering why she has come back to haunt me again. it's a good dream actually and when i wake up i feel refreshed. mmm, shame its bedtime.
counterpoint on abc national is possibly the best radio program, it tends to look at the opposite viewpoint that the media takes and presents an alternative idea, somewhat deconstructive but at the same time visionary, it's guests range from international thinkers, ideas people and the ones that fall through the gap. 
the impact on such a show like this is incredible, as perspective is given to the subjects we are so black and white about, you actually get to hear the wider concept and it actually changes your own. that's what evolution is, the ability to process information and adapt to it where necessary, every week they delve into different areas, from arts to culture, to religion and history. i love the dry wit that the presenters have and once a month a political satirist has a guest spot and he is amazing, summing up the month in an hilarious way. 
here's the link, check it out yourself, feed your mind, stimulate both your hemispheres and get a new perspective on your fixed ideas, you know its healthy.
here's patrick cooks summary of the post election, very funny and accurate.

Sunday, July 03, 2011

im happy, really content. i got my people, a cool tribe if ever there was, i got the qualities and quantities all in a nice balance at the moment, no dead weight, (just around my gut) plus i have books to read, so much knowledge to absorb, i got the voodoo just in the right amounts, my old ego is under control, the id is laid back and chilled. snuff music will be out soon, val and i created something really good, i'm very proud of 'snuff' it works, a good bunch of songs and an important message for the listener, plus my own journey is recorded in a way that melds with the process, now it's time for some new ideas, new songs and to open up the deep fix to two additional players, tez and mr. kibble, two old friends whom i have known since i was a punk in london. tez plays that glamour guitar on 'straight outta hell' and has contributed a nice funky soul part to 'vermont girl' which is nearly finished. i can't get hold of chris but i know he's the man for the job. 
i waited for months until i could get my designer friend trina to complete the artwork, she's amazing and despite the delay created the perfect artwork for the cd. 
i think a launch is in order, somethings small and powerful.

Friday, July 01, 2011

the i tunes generation and downloading culture miss out on one amazing element in music, the concept album. by downloading individual songs how can they understand the concept album?
the concept album or cd uses its full platform to deliver an idea that is often to big for one song or a story line that transcends just the single narrative, it's broad and vast, imagine 'dark side of the moon' by just playing the song 'money' yes it's a great individual song but it's part of something greater and in context with it lyrically. concept albums are for those who love words and ideas. snuff music is a conceptual piece, although people can listen to it in what ever random way they wish, to benefit the narrative it's best played from beginning to end.
starting with occult diary we get the idea of the esoteric beginning, one's personal journey into symbol and sign, the inner landscape is different for every individual. each vessel must find their own path.
the banishing ritual and invocation invokes the 'guides' and 'allies' form the mythology of characters inhabited within occult knowledge, in my particular circumstances it is the spirit of lucifer, being the morning star, the light bringer, that which shines the light of illumination into the darkness.
manifestation, is the third track, and describes the successful presence of an energy that is not necessarily oneself,  although one could say it is part of oneself, magickal theory allows for both these perspectives although traditionally it's an external energy.
in manifestation i guess one learns that it requires a great deal of work, preparation, duty and service to the magical process before a result, years really, it's the great work. the conversation with holy guardian angel can be attained within 6 months but generally i'd allow for a year for the discipline required is huge and one needs to build this into ones nature slowly and carefully, it's a holy process and requires a conscious awareness of ones self that takes a while to kick in. when it does it's powerful and the current of it can stay with you for life. imagine a channel open to a higher intelligence, you tune in and information flows. if you do this properly, you can't switch off, which is where people can decend into madness so consider this before attempting. i have seen this happen and it's messy.
straight outta hell is basically a process of revelation, with my channel open and my holy guardian angel i saw things as they are, it's a very messy tangled web we humans have woven, anyone plugged in would discern what's happening to humanity, we have created heaven and hell within our civilisation, there are forces at work that we barely comprehend and the more emerged we are in maya the less clear it becomes, politics and religion fail us, despite the teachings inherent within them they are run by individuals and groups that cannot comprehend any other dimensions other than what they physically exist within.
the ancient prophecies are being fulfilled, we descend towards an energetic mass that can't sustain itself without dramatic change. in lucifers tears we see how even a powerful god like angelic energy cannot understand how human beings with all their free will could have corrupted eden so much. this response is found within snuff music, a conversation between captain mission and luciferean spirit that exists within. the emotional response is to wipe the slate clean and consider current humanity as a failed species, one of millions if we consider the many of civilisations that have existed before ours. however this is a positive realisation because it destroys the ego state that enslaves.
when one sees the human condition, without the limits one sees and experiences ones own nature, dark and destructive, it pervades because we ignore it or suppress it. as the gita says, 'the only war worth fighting is the one within' and this is the message of our age, this is the salvation, look not to politics or religion, look not to conspiracy theory nor culture, look for the only truth that one can know, the one that lays within, the rest will take care of itself through the universe and ones connection to it. 
8th division sky place is based around the mayan belief in the 2012 conscious shift, that mankind will invest more in intuition over anything else and find salvation through these new ways (ironically they are ancient) while the constructed reality falls down, as what has occurred endlessly through cyclic time.
with this truth that fear is the enemy, and love the liberator we reenter the occult diary, where i change the vocals to match the new consciousness, and then we are resolve the journey with the song my mantra, a song which celebrates the truth of the matter, love is my mantra and it is a self love that allows us to win over our own natures in order to love others.
that's 'snuff music.' it's out soon, and i hope you enjoy it the trip.