Let us pray for the Brotherhood, for their infinite compassion, and for their understanding of the sufferings of us unawakened individuals. May they realize that there are many who could benefit from their understanding here and now. We could only hope that they will recognize the need amongst us and they will respond out of their compassionate grace to help us in these dark times. We must generate the loving consciousness that has been lost in this decade... We must develop loving-kindness for all of our brothers and sisters, and we must share these qualities with everyone at all times. The time has come, my dear Brothers, for a reawakening of the values, of which you hold so dear, let us continue what you have started. We wait with patience for your response... And we shall continue to wait for as long as it takes.
Breathe deep - Seek Peace. Understanding is just around the corner, in a 24-hour carpark near you.
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Hunab Ku, the search for glass and crystal, and an eternal mire.
I sit here, endless evenings passing in the dim glow of my computer monitor.
I go out in the day, do what I must, and will at some point invariably wind up discussing some form of chemical poetry with one colleague or another. But I am hampered - By the small-mindedness of government officials, the secretive seclusion of those 'in the know', hampered because I cannot for the life of me seem to obtain even the most rudimentary of glassware required for organic synthesis. I have been piecing together, for the past six months or so, and have endured losses, breakages by the untrained and foolish, raid scares and authoritarian interference. I still have not even managed to obtain a condenser, RBF, or stirrer.
This, as one might imagine, vexes me. I can tell you, almost to a tee, how to manufacture highly effective amphetamine analogues from over the counter precursors, I can intimitely describe the poetry in watching phases seperate as you titrate a nonpolar straight to base wash of longifolia bark, but SWEET FUCKING GODS ABOVE I simply cannot place my sweaty fucking nitrile wrapped fingers on a goddamn distillation kit.
I'll find away around this. I need to get the ball rolling, get out of this debt-hole I'm sinking into and FUCKING DO SOMETHING WITH MY LIFE.
I go out in the day, do what I must, and will at some point invariably wind up discussing some form of chemical poetry with one colleague or another. But I am hampered - By the small-mindedness of government officials, the secretive seclusion of those 'in the know', hampered because I cannot for the life of me seem to obtain even the most rudimentary of glassware required for organic synthesis. I have been piecing together, for the past six months or so, and have endured losses, breakages by the untrained and foolish, raid scares and authoritarian interference. I still have not even managed to obtain a condenser, RBF, or stirrer.
This, as one might imagine, vexes me. I can tell you, almost to a tee, how to manufacture highly effective amphetamine analogues from over the counter precursors, I can intimitely describe the poetry in watching phases seperate as you titrate a nonpolar straight to base wash of longifolia bark, but SWEET FUCKING GODS ABOVE I simply cannot place my sweaty fucking nitrile wrapped fingers on a goddamn distillation kit.
I'll find away around this. I need to get the ball rolling, get out of this debt-hole I'm sinking into and FUCKING DO SOMETHING WITH MY LIFE.
Sunday, May 24, 2009
I just won the game.
Realisation came suddenly, with the biting edge like the winter wind that descended so swiftly on this little city - So unexpected, so shocking and almost painful, and yet, so welcomed.
I broke the loop, you see. How is it often said? You can't win, you can't break even, and you can't stop playing. Well, I won the game. I'd dug myself a hole five miles deep and two feet wide, and I was staring up at a pinhole - But now, I beat the punchline to the punch, pulled myself out and found an amber spyglass at the top, through which I can see, clearly - The scanner is not reflecting myself, I thought I saw purity but really I saw asymmetrical perfection. The interpretation of a reality so close to mine, so close to where I want mine to be that I thought it was mine, but no, this is a future far more fulfilling and healthy, for that matter.
She made me realise, you see, that there are no loops on acid. You don't run in circles. you simply start a thought, and, partway through, get distracted by some shiny flying fractal and derail your train of thought. Then, once back on track, you need to start all over again. You get distracted again, and the cycle repeats - Never to reach conclusions, and it feels like you're just chasing your tail. So you're not stuck in the 'loop', white rabbit, you're just starting over and over again - And with the right application of concetration and peacefullness, one can eventually get to the end of that pathway, that mind track, and reach a conclusion.
And conclusions I have wrought. As you say, you still wants to be friends - Regrets come swiftly, it seems, but such suggestions decry an intense emotional naivety, the theme of our relationship pageant - Wrought out down the main streets, loud, brash and colourful for the whole world to see as we pulled each other to bits. I'm not saying I hate her, quite the opposite - But to assume that everything can be peachy-keen after still barely a fortnight, that I can return and all will be well, that we can all hang out and have super-awesome sessions and sit around dribbling shit... To suggest such actions is either naivety to the nth, or it means that all is not as well as she hoped it would be.
Either way, I have no time for it. I have, in a word, found my Elektron (It's all greek to me, do you understand? haha!) and we orbit each other, for now indefinetly.
She likes escalators, cheap red wine and wants to learn to cook speed. She is real - She is human. She is true compassion, not this face-on facade of peace and spirituality, corrupted to allow you to do whatever you wish in the name of God. Debate all you will - You have the right intentions but the wrong implementation. it is never about the final destination, it's about the journey and who you walk beside along the way. You might end up in the 'right' place, but you have taken the wrong path and eventually you will again walk alone. When you do, remember my words. I'll always be here when (and not if) you need to connect with someone again, but it will not, and cannot be in the same way hence. love is a powerful word - One I don't bandy around without truly meaning it - And I meant it every time. I do love you, Angie. But the part of me that loves you, you have consumed. You keep it in a jar on your shelf, whether you mean to or not. I think one day you will let it out, or even bring it to my yourself...
But when that time comes... Will I accept your gift? I know that in the six months we were in love, I grew so much and yet so little. I am, now, who I need to be - And it is time for me to do what I need to do.
Here comes the chemistry - Debate insipid reality against inspired fantasy - try and figure out which world you're living in.
I broke the loop, you see. How is it often said? You can't win, you can't break even, and you can't stop playing. Well, I won the game. I'd dug myself a hole five miles deep and two feet wide, and I was staring up at a pinhole - But now, I beat the punchline to the punch, pulled myself out and found an amber spyglass at the top, through which I can see, clearly - The scanner is not reflecting myself, I thought I saw purity but really I saw asymmetrical perfection. The interpretation of a reality so close to mine, so close to where I want mine to be that I thought it was mine, but no, this is a future far more fulfilling and healthy, for that matter.
She made me realise, you see, that there are no loops on acid. You don't run in circles. you simply start a thought, and, partway through, get distracted by some shiny flying fractal and derail your train of thought. Then, once back on track, you need to start all over again. You get distracted again, and the cycle repeats - Never to reach conclusions, and it feels like you're just chasing your tail. So you're not stuck in the 'loop', white rabbit, you're just starting over and over again - And with the right application of concetration and peacefullness, one can eventually get to the end of that pathway, that mind track, and reach a conclusion.
And conclusions I have wrought. As you say, you still wants to be friends - Regrets come swiftly, it seems, but such suggestions decry an intense emotional naivety, the theme of our relationship pageant - Wrought out down the main streets, loud, brash and colourful for the whole world to see as we pulled each other to bits. I'm not saying I hate her, quite the opposite - But to assume that everything can be peachy-keen after still barely a fortnight, that I can return and all will be well, that we can all hang out and have super-awesome sessions and sit around dribbling shit... To suggest such actions is either naivety to the nth, or it means that all is not as well as she hoped it would be.
Either way, I have no time for it. I have, in a word, found my Elektron (It's all greek to me, do you understand? haha!) and we orbit each other, for now indefinetly.
She likes escalators, cheap red wine and wants to learn to cook speed. She is real - She is human. She is true compassion, not this face-on facade of peace and spirituality, corrupted to allow you to do whatever you wish in the name of God. Debate all you will - You have the right intentions but the wrong implementation. it is never about the final destination, it's about the journey and who you walk beside along the way. You might end up in the 'right' place, but you have taken the wrong path and eventually you will again walk alone. When you do, remember my words. I'll always be here when (and not if) you need to connect with someone again, but it will not, and cannot be in the same way hence. love is a powerful word - One I don't bandy around without truly meaning it - And I meant it every time. I do love you, Angie. But the part of me that loves you, you have consumed. You keep it in a jar on your shelf, whether you mean to or not. I think one day you will let it out, or even bring it to my yourself...
But when that time comes... Will I accept your gift? I know that in the six months we were in love, I grew so much and yet so little. I am, now, who I need to be - And it is time for me to do what I need to do.
Here comes the chemistry - Debate insipid reality against inspired fantasy - try and figure out which world you're living in.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
The Great Shark Hunt
I cannot, for the life of me, understand why i tolerated this for so long. I am a psyentist. I approach my world with open arms and open mind, but I do not subscribe to baseless specualation, I do not act on whims and them blame it on fate. To play games with the heart is the domain of children, and to then patronise those you toy with - As if they somehow cannot comprehend the mysterious workings of your god - Is downright insulting.
I never have been content to spend my life working in a tireless, thankless, meaningless job, nor to fill my lungs with cone after lungwrenching cone of greenish cannabinoid haze - I've always hough of myself as something of a social shark. Not in the predatory, hidden-fear kinda way, not because I feel like I have ice hiding in my pupils and you can see the colour of space somewhere behind them - But because I need to keep moving or I will die. Stagnation and complacemency is the bane of evolution - When you are happy you want to stay happy. You will not want to change anything, to explore your life.
I revel in this misery, as I force the future across my gills.
I have reached astonishing clarity in my life, though a mindbending combination of megadosing certain water-soluble vitamins, intelligence enhancers, neurotransmitter analogues and essential amino acids. Also a large amount of amphetamines.
I can't be too angry, really. Humans will be so painfully human, and children will be so painfully childish. I can't let myself get caught up, dragged down and torn to pieces in the feeding frenzy.
I embrace love, and light, and colour. I know what these words mean. I breathe deep and seek peace, I smoke until my throat bleeds and drop capsule after capsule of exotic enzyme modulators, the kind of things the military experimented with for a while until it was determined that they were irreversibly searing the corpus callosum of their test subjects - But, I feel, that with the appropriate neuroprotective regimen of antioxidants and biogenic polyphenols, such as I am presently undertaking, I should be more then fine.
I can feel the subwoofer in my chest, keeping the beat while the thereman in my frontal lobe warps time and space.
I can taste my thoughts.
Bring me the party. Throw me a bone. Get on board the almighty steamboat as we chug merrily towards oblivion.
In a week or two, once I can see how this regimen is going to treat me, I think I shall start dabbling in megadose psychedelics, just for funsies. About twenty-two hundred mikes should be a good start, probably with some cimetidine and harmala alkaloids. A little magnesium to taste and with any luck, I should be able to see through time.
Long live the istigkeit!
I never have been content to spend my life working in a tireless, thankless, meaningless job, nor to fill my lungs with cone after lungwrenching cone of greenish cannabinoid haze - I've always hough of myself as something of a social shark. Not in the predatory, hidden-fear kinda way, not because I feel like I have ice hiding in my pupils and you can see the colour of space somewhere behind them - But because I need to keep moving or I will die. Stagnation and complacemency is the bane of evolution - When you are happy you want to stay happy. You will not want to change anything, to explore your life.
I revel in this misery, as I force the future across my gills.
I have reached astonishing clarity in my life, though a mindbending combination of megadosing certain water-soluble vitamins, intelligence enhancers, neurotransmitter analogues and essential amino acids. Also a large amount of amphetamines.
I can't be too angry, really. Humans will be so painfully human, and children will be so painfully childish. I can't let myself get caught up, dragged down and torn to pieces in the feeding frenzy.
I embrace love, and light, and colour. I know what these words mean. I breathe deep and seek peace, I smoke until my throat bleeds and drop capsule after capsule of exotic enzyme modulators, the kind of things the military experimented with for a while until it was determined that they were irreversibly searing the corpus callosum of their test subjects - But, I feel, that with the appropriate neuroprotective regimen of antioxidants and biogenic polyphenols, such as I am presently undertaking, I should be more then fine.
I can feel the subwoofer in my chest, keeping the beat while the thereman in my frontal lobe warps time and space.
I can taste my thoughts.
Bring me the party. Throw me a bone. Get on board the almighty steamboat as we chug merrily towards oblivion.
In a week or two, once I can see how this regimen is going to treat me, I think I shall start dabbling in megadose psychedelics, just for funsies. About twenty-two hundred mikes should be a good start, probably with some cimetidine and harmala alkaloids. A little magnesium to taste and with any luck, I should be able to see through time.
Long live the istigkeit!
Monday, May 18, 2009
ForceWA is a fucking joke
For those of you who don't understand why doofers take such pains to ensure that we are not lumped in the same group as ravers, I suggest you attend a 'Bush Rave' some day.
The location was not too hard to find, despite the best efforts of the simplistic directions - There was no gate, no directions on where to park, or for that matter, any lighting along the way. i am astonished nobody was struck by a car during the night.
The night, though, was a lot of fun. I really enjoyed it. I was sober, roaming about between dance floor, fire, and the various clusters of cars purveying fine chemicals and chatting with those I knew, and meeting a lot of those I didn't. It was cool.
It was when you looked closer, though, that things started to come apart at the seams. A doof's sound system is usually extremely well thought-out, in terms of placement, specifications and quality. ForceWA had a large pile of black boxes on a trailer off to one side, pointing over the dancefloor, with no visible regard to superposition, constructive interference, etc... No to mention that they were totally exposed to the elements, and had a sudden shower come from nowhere they would have been quite thoroughly ruined. The generator was only a few metres behind the DJ booth - Now, of course you should keep it as close as possible to avoid losses over long cable runs, but this was ridiculous, as the genny was drowning out all possibility of speech back there, as well as most of the music.
Just before the sun rose, I decided it was about time I got resoundingly high. Having previously dosed well in excess of 1500ugs (10+ drop doses are my usual preference) I did not think there would be any issue having a five-drop. Truth be told, I had not slept in more then five days, and I didn not know what effect (if any) it would have on the experience.
Either not sleeping magnifies LSD or this is the strongest batch yet, but within forty five minutes of dancing to some very enjoyable D&B I found myself having to sit down, struggling to roll a cigarette and trying to hold back tears. My saviour appeared, rolled my smoke for me and sat and talked for a while. Then, more dancing. I was having a great time. Then, the sun began to rise, the DJ changed, and the whole world went to hell.
I'm not sure whose idea it was that Gabber and Terrorcore were to be the tunes for the morning, but it was a downright fucking retarded one. To be perfectly frank, I don't even consider them music after that episode - Angie and I had to walk for some distance until we were far enough away that the screaming and 180bpm bass beat (which is about all most of the tracks consisted of) were no longer physically assaulting my brain. We watched the scene unfolding, people yelling, some angry, some just enjoying themselves, bottles and cigarette butts everywhere.
I like heavy, intense music -At the right time. Fast-paced nightpsy, gabber, dark D&B, the whole darker side of dance music is most definetly a 'night time' theme - Morning are for funky tunes, when your pills have worn off and all you want to do is funk around and chill and smile at everyone.
The area this event was held in was something of curious beauty, once. It had obviously been strip-forested, for the ground was mostly gravel with the occasional large pile of felled trees, before fading into bushland. By the morning, it looked like dresden, with cars crushing the new foliage struggling to grow, people clambering over it all, pulling it up to fuel the fire. It looked and sounded like a riot was about to break out, as dozens of angry, drunk ravers up to their eyeballs in speed stomped out to an amateurish combination of Anal Cunt-esque vocals and a rhythm section that sounded like a bag of hammers being dropped into a rainwater tank and kicked down he stairs.
This is not just me complaining about the music because it's not my thing - Hell, I'm not a big fan of anything much over 150bpm usually, but there was some really excellent tunes being played that night which I got thoroughly stuck into. But the shit being played from sun-up simply highlighted the failings of this scene.
I watched a beautiful area of bushland torn apart by selfishness, indulgences of violence. I watched ugly people expressing themselves in base, primitive fashion - it all boiled down to simple gratification of their animal instincts - Eat, fuck, get high. If that's wat they want to do, more power to them. If they're not interested in developing their conciousness, so be it.
I like to party - I'm not here to shit on you because I'm some uptight 35y/o square who doesn't 'understand the music', and I'm not here to take some nancy reagan-esque judgement on drug use, because, shit. I like to get high, too. But that's kind of the whole point. We all like to party. We all like to get high. But we're all human beings, and that means showing respect for each other, and our environment.
If you want to act like animals, do so. By all means, enjoy yourself. But don't go out and destroy our bushland to do so.
ForceWA, stay in the city. You clearly don't understand how to run an event in the bush and your patrons are nowhere near mature enough to party there responsibly.
The location was not too hard to find, despite the best efforts of the simplistic directions - There was no gate, no directions on where to park, or for that matter, any lighting along the way. i am astonished nobody was struck by a car during the night.
The night, though, was a lot of fun. I really enjoyed it. I was sober, roaming about between dance floor, fire, and the various clusters of cars purveying fine chemicals and chatting with those I knew, and meeting a lot of those I didn't. It was cool.
It was when you looked closer, though, that things started to come apart at the seams. A doof's sound system is usually extremely well thought-out, in terms of placement, specifications and quality. ForceWA had a large pile of black boxes on a trailer off to one side, pointing over the dancefloor, with no visible regard to superposition, constructive interference, etc... No to mention that they were totally exposed to the elements, and had a sudden shower come from nowhere they would have been quite thoroughly ruined. The generator was only a few metres behind the DJ booth - Now, of course you should keep it as close as possible to avoid losses over long cable runs, but this was ridiculous, as the genny was drowning out all possibility of speech back there, as well as most of the music.
Just before the sun rose, I decided it was about time I got resoundingly high. Having previously dosed well in excess of 1500ugs (10+ drop doses are my usual preference) I did not think there would be any issue having a five-drop. Truth be told, I had not slept in more then five days, and I didn not know what effect (if any) it would have on the experience.
Either not sleeping magnifies LSD or this is the strongest batch yet, but within forty five minutes of dancing to some very enjoyable D&B I found myself having to sit down, struggling to roll a cigarette and trying to hold back tears. My saviour appeared, rolled my smoke for me and sat and talked for a while. Then, more dancing. I was having a great time. Then, the sun began to rise, the DJ changed, and the whole world went to hell.
I'm not sure whose idea it was that Gabber and Terrorcore were to be the tunes for the morning, but it was a downright fucking retarded one. To be perfectly frank, I don't even consider them music after that episode - Angie and I had to walk for some distance until we were far enough away that the screaming and 180bpm bass beat (which is about all most of the tracks consisted of) were no longer physically assaulting my brain. We watched the scene unfolding, people yelling, some angry, some just enjoying themselves, bottles and cigarette butts everywhere.
I like heavy, intense music -At the right time. Fast-paced nightpsy, gabber, dark D&B, the whole darker side of dance music is most definetly a 'night time' theme - Morning are for funky tunes, when your pills have worn off and all you want to do is funk around and chill and smile at everyone.
The area this event was held in was something of curious beauty, once. It had obviously been strip-forested, for the ground was mostly gravel with the occasional large pile of felled trees, before fading into bushland. By the morning, it looked like dresden, with cars crushing the new foliage struggling to grow, people clambering over it all, pulling it up to fuel the fire. It looked and sounded like a riot was about to break out, as dozens of angry, drunk ravers up to their eyeballs in speed stomped out to an amateurish combination of Anal Cunt-esque vocals and a rhythm section that sounded like a bag of hammers being dropped into a rainwater tank and kicked down he stairs.
This is not just me complaining about the music because it's not my thing - Hell, I'm not a big fan of anything much over 150bpm usually, but there was some really excellent tunes being played that night which I got thoroughly stuck into. But the shit being played from sun-up simply highlighted the failings of this scene.
I watched a beautiful area of bushland torn apart by selfishness, indulgences of violence. I watched ugly people expressing themselves in base, primitive fashion - it all boiled down to simple gratification of their animal instincts - Eat, fuck, get high. If that's wat they want to do, more power to them. If they're not interested in developing their conciousness, so be it.
I like to party - I'm not here to shit on you because I'm some uptight 35y/o square who doesn't 'understand the music', and I'm not here to take some nancy reagan-esque judgement on drug use, because, shit. I like to get high, too. But that's kind of the whole point. We all like to party. We all like to get high. But we're all human beings, and that means showing respect for each other, and our environment.
If you want to act like animals, do so. By all means, enjoy yourself. But don't go out and destroy our bushland to do so.
ForceWA, stay in the city. You clearly don't understand how to run an event in the bush and your patrons are nowhere near mature enough to party there responsibly.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Love poem for my neurons.
The speed to eat your sense away
Drink to keep it all so fluid
Angel for a sweeter sorrow
And the street to hold the axe.
How far you've come, to do it now,
and what grotesque props
Playgrounds hung in space, castles hermetically sealed
The rarest rots of old Europa, dead men sealed in little boxes,
magic out of china.
Drink to keep it all so fluid
Angel for a sweeter sorrow
And the street to hold the axe.
How far you've come, to do it now,
and what grotesque props
Playgrounds hung in space, castles hermetically sealed
The rarest rots of old Europa, dead men sealed in little boxes,
magic out of china.
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
A warped sense of satisfaction
Reflexive psychology creates a cyberstatic equilibrium - We are the Sprawl.
Denoting emotion with word is useless, feelings surge and rush like data, like blood - Like light on a grey pavement. Puddles of truth that you can see yourself in - At least, you hope that's you. And it's not something on the other side staring back.
What is bitterness? The finality, the frustration, the resentment of being passed over? irrelevant. Recompense. Relax. Evolve and understand - You are the neon chrysanthemum, the terrible red wash that swoops through the world at the speed of dark. You are the harbringer of peace and the foreshadow of destruction. You are... You.
Evolve. Force this evolution. Get past the pettiness - Present the truth and allow those who need it to be happy together. Your tendons are meat, mine are steel - My teeth are ferrocerium and my brain is hardwired. I am above this and I won't be decieved again.
I see the world through a constantly rotating prism, the full spectrum of pain and light played out on the wall I face, every morning when I wake up. The sun always rises at the same angle but the diffraction patterns tell me, every morning, that something has changed and evolved. I watch ribbons of light curling out of my fingertips as I taste lysergic chaos sweeping into my synapses, melting into every neural pore.
Electrify your senses. Overclock your soul. Stick your goddamn in this metaphysical light socket we call psychedelia and let your spirit blossom. Transcend your mortal bounds - Find your frequency. Harmonise. Revel in the beauty you create but never let the flashing neo-Tokyo arcade games and empty syringes distract you from the details. God is in the details. The problem, and the solution, is in the details.
Wander freely - Stay untethered and keep your head above the emotional plimsoll line. Cut the flux lines and drop the bullshit - Welcome to the future.
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