The world creates more terrorists every day.

We live in a world and a system that encourages terrorism, let me explain.

The tyranny, banality and hopelessness of modern life has ostracized certain individuals to the point where they see their only alternative is to engage in destructive acts of terror or to hurt or destroy others in their quest for revenge. This obviously indicates that the system is at fault. People say that terrorists are wrong and evil and so on, but it is in many, if not all cases, the system that has in some way driven them to a level of desperation that is unfathomable for some people on the planet, particularly those in the plentiful and wealthy west. Even in the west though, people are not happy and the world is not capable of making them happy. Hopelessness grows and develops into hatred and certain individuals within the land of plenty also become disenfranchised and become so deranged that that see everyone else as guilty.

This is where a major problem lies. Because normal people participate in the system, for whatever reason, be it to provide for their family, or just have a life where they can live in moderate comfort, they are seen as part of the system that pushes down its control on these individuals who have this hatred for the modern world. So they can then actively excuse themselves for harming innocents, because they see everyone as guilty. This can only lead to destruction and acts of terror, that in turn lead to greater levels of state control and a type of techno fascist regime that has to this point only been imagined. The possible salvation lies in the fact that with greater control comes the possibility of a greater level of input into education and enlightenment possibilities.

It does sound rather chilling in one way, but the greater possibilities of a system of total technological control would in the end lead to a type of utopia. Providing of course that certain levels of excellence in all fields of human endeavor were still pursued. I really think that the pain will precede the pleasure in terms of the future of the human race, in that there will be a period where the state has to enact certain desperate measures in order to regain control over greater numbers of disaffected citizens than it has ever had to deal with. Once destructive and antisocial ideas can be isolated, it will be possible to then begin to truly create a productive and positive future, one not so focused on the ridiculous delusions that the current society is obsessed with i.e. everything that is rammed down our throats on a daily basis by the media.

We still exist in a sort of potentiality vacuum according to the infinite possibility of a human being. Taught to value things that mean nothing at all and to devote our entire lives to things that are mere illusions. This illusory life and thought life creates the cynicism and destructive nature that is leading the planet on its merry dance toward the doom of the entire ecosystem and life as we know it. Most of the things we base our entire existence and everyday lives around, are not real.

Thin insecurities interwoven throughout my mind

Plagued by knowledge, I have tried to think of ways, that I could find an answer to my minds many questions. Questions that whisper incessant doubt of my own attempts at understanding anything.

For if knowledge is a quest that brings eventual illumination, how is it that ignorance can be such bliss and understanding and realization of things can bring such pounding doubt? Knowledge comes with the price, that as you learn more, you realize you know far less. It is no surprise to me that many of the greatest minds that have gone before us, seem to have subsided into stricken and maddening frustration. It seems often far more fulfilling to merely write things that make people wince or smile, than things that actually make people think.

I have often found myself driven by the desire to show people how clever I can be, when this is really just foolhardy, in that it means so little that I should not have even bothered in the first place. I need a whisky. Need? Want. Will it steel my resolve so that I may continue to try and make words appear to make sense on this page?

Plagued by the plague were the citizens of London, when in a moment of ill-luck, a bakery caught fire and cathartic flames swept away the terror of death and sickness that threatened that city. Was it good that the bakery went up in smoke, scorching the city and its inhabitants to a more ruder health? Why yes, we are told, as London went on to become briefly, the centre of a global empire.

Its knowledge swept to all corners of the earth, taking with it the rasping intellectualism of a nation and a people in awe of themselves, a vanity which has strode on through the ages. It is now easy to look upon the failed empire of the British and scold it for its misguided deeds and morbid incompetence. Though in the new age that followed, what have we in terms of empire? The insecure bully that is the United States? Its flailing attempts to be king. Though of course, its self doubt and fear are in the end the undoing of it.

The cultural hold its corporately deranged media the only thing it really has left after the terror of its fantastic weaponry. A rather tenuous cultural hold that is scorned and applauded in equal measure. The longer this empire strains to hold its position of dominance, the easier it becomes to forget any positive aspect of its heritage. Depravity and violence become art form.

Art that is consumed with hatred of its subject, and despair at its incompetence. I sometimes think we so far from understanding ourselves that instead we look upon that which we do with contempt, breeding fear of how we are viewed by others. We are taught to envy these days, as though it is a good thing to do, so that we may strive harder and longer to better our contemporaries.

I spoke earlier today to an acquaintance, telling him of a dream I once had. I stood on a small plain overhung with great sheer and jagged green cliffs. The sea to one side and the face of the cliffs to the other. I looked out toward the mouth of a great river. A large plane was hurtling toward the bank of the river, and it smashed with devastating force into the ground on the shores of the rivers mouth. Flame and smoke billowed from the wreckage and people spilled out into view, running in terror as the plane slowly transformed into what looked like a huge wrecked ocean liner. I gazed upon this for a moment before becoming aware of an angelic being flying down from the sky above me with a fiery ball in its hands. It alighted in front of me and wordlessly handed the ball to me, and it did not burn, and I held it.

I suddenly realized that I could use the fire-ball to fly, and it was magnificent, I flew around the landscape, across the cliffs and over the wreckage of the plane/ocean liner. I do not remember what it was that drew me out of that dream, as it was around ten years ago that I had it. In a rickety old house in Thorndon, in the city of Wellington, my second home in New Zealand. Probably an alarm clock radio. With its musical interruption of rest.

I have no clue what that dream represented. And have not really thought long and hard on it. I did enjoy it immensely, and the flight was lovely, as I had complete control over it, something I have not experienced in many other dreams. Save one I had only three nights ago.

This dream involved a high powered speed boat and me the driver, in total control speeding around what at times appeared to be the South Coast of Wellington and then at times seemed to be like the Mediterranean coast of Greece. It was rather disturbing how fast the boat would go and the amount of rocky dangers that appeared in the water ahead of me, though I managed to negotiate all hazards without damaging myself or the vessel and then found myself at the doorstep of an old friends house. I stepped from the boat and onto the porch of his house and went inside and spoke with him and his house mates. We sat down and enjoyed some delicious cake that his mother had baked. And then I awoke. That dream reminded me of the angel dream. All quite odd and inspirational, as well as entertaining and beguiling.

I hope this finds you in good health if you have read to here. And if you have not, may your big toe throb like never before and your left ear ring for a full five minutes.

Aquatic brain tonic

Beatifically boisterously bellowing down the road, a loud, deep sound, from the lungs all around,

The backdrop the hum and beep of traffic, belting across ground, pedestrian churlishness witnessed aplenty, it seems at times, their heads are empty,

A limerick, no, I would not propose such, just a verse along a watery line, the time today, we journeyed to the brine,

A few friends met, then the salty plunge, the water deep, though around you it quivers, refreshing coolness beneath the waves,

Far from the pastimes that have our days, perhaps not though, if you were employed, by the ocean, Neptune's servant with great devotion,

A lovely drive to the edge of the Tasman, and a splendid frolic in the vicinity of the water, sun drenched and reflective.

Short story- A strange invitation-part one

The breeze whipped in now, with a ferocity that changed its definition. Suddenly, a gale, turning the air around their heads in a frenzy of atoms. They ran on, the long grass whipping to and fro in front of them like weed on the ocean floor. The hill was long, but the climb was not steep, they battled forward in the breeze now gale, and squinted ahead, straining tired eyes to see their goal.

Suddenly a bolt of grey from the right, and someone goes down beside her, tumbling back down from whence they came, she sees a blur racing toward her, recognising it as an attack dog, she calmly shoulder tosses it away as it leaps at her. The others brandish their weapons and step on into the wind heartily. There is no time now to stop and deal with these animals.

The moon appears in a split second, illuminating the hillside. The grey walls of the castle with the scratches of hundreds of years, seemed to do a tiny dance under the light of Hine-nui-te-pō, shadows and light flickering across them.

They grew closer to the facility, the dull electric light that surrounded it giving it away through the trees. They entered the denser trees with no sound, the knowledge of Tane's kingdom ingrained in their tender footfalls. The wind hummed overhead, whipping the tops of the trees, but they were completely sheltered now, in the protective coat of the small forest that surrounded the institution.

The air seemed to grow cold, there was some devilry afoot, an unearthly chill stole through the air. The slow rasping of it's voice so low, you could barely hear it, as the air temperature dropped around you. There was a great Tohunga who worked at the facility, and his acquaintance with experimental weapons technology was well known. The area was no doubt equipped with a few weather re-organisation towers. They pressed on, the cold now making their breath mist in front of them.

The castle walls are huge in front of them, there seems no way in. They scuttle around the sides, under the trees, trying not to trigger the surveillance tech positioned all over the walls above them. Their new scrambler suits were obviously doing the trick, as they seem not to have alerted anyone at present.

They knew from reconnaissance that they needed to go over the walls, into the building below, and were equipped for such a need. The grappling hook firing out from the handheld contraption her brother had given her. She hooked the cable to her belt and climbed slowly up the wall, invisible thanks to her suit to any electronic eyes, which were all this facility relied on, on the outside. The others followed, seven of them now, lucky eight having his leg broken by the attack dog.

She reached the top, scrambling onto the tiles of the roof, the crisp Taranaki air whipping about her head again, in its taunting manner. The birdsong below in the trees, wafted across the breeze. She smiled to herself and thought, this is living.

Looking below into the facility brought several new problems placed pertinently before them. Two guards, a computerized machine gun post, and what looked like a small helicopter.

They crouched low below the crest of the roof, hatching a plan for the taking of the area below. The wind breathed its dynamism over them as they put together their plan, its stern insistence making her feel steadier at the fearsome height of these weather beaten walls.

To be continued. (Sometime in the near future.)



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The dynamic human intellect

Looking down at my foot and seeing it attached to my leg, and then to my torso, I am amazed that I am an organism that moves about the place. A collection of growths attached to each other forming some sort of organic mass of life and capability. Capability. The idea of capability as it exists in the human mindset. We are influenced and cajoled into the idea that we must influence and cajole. Or else we become worthless, or cast aside. Ask not the beggar in the street for advice, for what advice could they possibly give? Plenty you may find.

We must look so odd to elemental beings, breathing and wobbling about the place. Worrying and fretting about things that essentially mean nothing, but everything, at the same time. I want to write something meaningful, but I also just want to write, and to be read. The ego drives me onward toward my own mental demise. I woulhd realli liek to justh write a hole rafte of thingse that ar spellte wronge. It does my head in sometimes to be manicured by the perceptions of long dead people on how I should prepare words to be read.

It is something I have thought long and hard of recently, the human obsession with the dead knowledge, knowledge that clutters our thought life and makes up the basis of our knowledge, most of it is dead, in that it is not dynamic. Why is it so? That we are so unprepared to make our own way forward? And instead rely on long dead men and women to guide us? What is this fascination with the knowledge of people who have no perception or idea with the reality that confronts us in our day to day lives?

I say, burn the books! Start afresh. Leave behind the tinder dry idea's of yesteryear. Let us stride forward anew. Let us tear asunder the false promise of knowledge that pretends to know what we should do. Knowledge garnered from experiences so alien to our own. Are not the books that litter our libraries in a large part merely pieces of information that can be read from, and then discarded, once we have taken that which we like from them? Why ever keep a book for longer than need be. Maybe I speak from the perspective of someone who easily stores up large swathes of information in my head. Excuse me. (There is of course no reason to burn the books, I merely referred to the idea of incineration as a means to make the point that we need take what we need from past musings and then move on).

Infuriatingly, we do rely far to much on the knowledge and idea's of long dead individuals. Take the bible for instance, that often persecuted font of idea's. It was written by a collection of misguided desert dwelling fellows who lived in a world so far removed from ours that they condemned shellfish as unclean, while unbeknownst to them, shellfish are not only delicious, but also extremely nutritious.

The Abrahamic religions and their 'guidance's' are a blight on modern thought and the collective evolution of human understanding. Can we not dispense with such tired and unenlightened fodder? Please? Pretty please? And add to that, perhaps the, though at times enlightened, sometimes rather dead-ended coke-fueled ramblings of a certain Friedrich Nietzsche? And maybe the rather inconclusive and in terms of history, hastily arrived at conclusions of Charles Darwin?

Goodness we have dug ourselves a deep mental pit to climb out of. It is morbidly disturbing how far we have dug. So far we have gone into this pit that we may liken ourselves to carthorses with blinders on. Blinders of knowledge long dead in its worth. Knowledge that leaves us unable to think fresh and new thought. Unable to create. Creativity is looked upon as kooky and eccentric. Is that not odd to you?

Do you not find that slightly disturbing? That if you should believe that the world is held back by the dead and rotting idea's of several centuries you could be placed outside of the spectrum of import? It disturbs me greatly that if I decide to dispense with certain volumes of banality due to their encompassing large amounts of bollocks with small amounts of truth, that I should be frowned upon?

Take for instance the overly esteemed writings of the English naturalist Charles Darwin. His theories contributed to the mass killing of Aboriginal Australians as they were considered a 'lesser' form of humanity. And his works are still considered gospel in universities today. This is madness bordering on stupidity. Of course, the mans research is noteworthy, considering he did make discoveries and formulate idea's that are important in terms of the constant human desire to discover what exactly it is we are doing here on this rock hurtling through the never. However, his world was so far from our own, that we should have learned to take many of the things he says as belonging to an age that has long passed, and thankfully will not be seen again?

The same can be said of so much of the dated and deadened conceptual boredom that is foisted upon us as necessary in this day and age. Idea's of 'nationhood'. How silly are these? Knowing now that we most likely descend from a common group of ancestors, should we not realize that thinking we are different is not only wrong, but also stupid?

We are so stuck in the past, it is suffocating. It chokes me to the point of madness at times. The ridiculous religious books for one, but also the silly scientific texts that masquerade as 'enlightened' pieces of knowledge. When they were penned by people who have no conception whatsoever of our day to day reality. Is it not time we began to take more notice of this? More measured and understanding views on that which we should take as 'knowledge' and that which should be dispensed with? The great hulk of dead and rotten thought that hangs over humanity infects more and more minds on a daily basis. Something must be done about this, you and I need to let the world know that we need to formulate new and dynamic ideas, so that they may in time be dispensed with themselves. Human knowledge is essentially dynamic. In that it is ever-changing. It is not constant. It is something that evolves. We must consider this at every moment, or else we are lost. Leave behind the tired idea's of yesterday, yes, only a few hours ago, and embrace the dawn of new thought.

Let us create thought and then dispense with it, so that those that come after us may do so at a faster rate. Let us move forward, let us enliven the mind with a new creativity, that of constant evolution of idea's. It is our duty as thinking beings, and as pieces of stars that have blazed throughout galaxies for billions of years. We are on the cusp of a moment so illuminating that we will never understand it from our deadened and weakened perspectives. Let us see in the new day, and laugh as it is dispensed with. All old knowledge is dead, new thought is the way forward. Embrace the dawn, look to the future. We must turn our backs on much that we consider truth, in order to truly free our descendants from the bondage that cripples our intellect.

Realize, conspire, evaluate and dream. We are the future in every waking moment, carpe diem, as the old saying goes, use such an old saying to realize what it truly meant. Not that we should look upon history for the answers, but that history should give us an example of what not to do. Turn your mind to the stars, to the swirling space dust that flies through the never. I challenge you to challenge those who speak of the dead knowledge of the past as supremely relevant to modern human existence.

We are in flux, we flow through time, time flows around our being as we flow with it, how can our knowledge be anchored while that which is our reality flows? It is nonsense to consider our reality as still, it is ever moving, ever changing and will go on, with us or without us, ours is the choice, do we join the movement, or sit with our decomposing databases, hoping for answers that have not arrived? Seize your new thought, and conspire upon it, in order to free those minds that follow us, to dream new dreams, and new understandings.

Historical repetition: Cycles of humanity

I have recently thought of how often I write and try to say something about what I think people should think. Like I know the answers or something, or have some sort of idea. I thought briefly on this and realized it is probably something that makes people tired of reading what I write, because all they really want to read is some witty turn of phrase, some quick quirk of the mind relayed onto the screen for them to chuckle at for a moment.

I struggle on a day to day basis with what I 'should' write.

I know that I can write with more skill than most people, but it doesn't really help at all when you have no idea where to focus your attention. The possible subjects are numerous.

From historical fiction, which I did a large amount of research for two years ago, to a tale of my manic depressive madness and incarceration. Also I have thought about possibly turning my attention to writing non-fiction of a style that could possibly shake up the people of Aotearoa who I share native ancestry with, or even just writing non-fiction to shake up everyone in some way.

The difficult thing is deciding what it is to focus wholly upon, and then doing it.

Cutting the brain away from the body and releasing it into the tips of your fingers, relaying the feelings that you have felt and idea's that you have had onto the keyboard and meshing them together in some sort of net. A net that captures a persons attention for a time without ensnaring them for too long, so as they do not get weighed down by it.

For what use is writing that does not either entertain or inform in some way? Writing that says or provokes nothing is generally banal instruction, easily dispensed with, often hurriedly.

Thinking back to the rather tumultuous time that was my foray into the world of the mental health system and I can see there was much that would entertain people, with a few chuckles, as well as some things that would no doubt disturb. I remember enjoying a delusion that I was descended from the Pharaoh God's. A quite powerful delusion in fact, relating to the sun in many ways, the sun being something I was rather fixated on during times of psychosis, the thing about the delusion was, in my mind of minds, I knew very well it was a delusion, I just enjoyed the game, and the reaction my apparent belief in it caused in the people around me.

The energy and feeling of power a psychotic episode gives you would absolutely amaze some people, it is truly quite wonderful in many ways. Like the best drugs or sex you have had times a thousand, at times. So very hard to explain to people while you are in it and infinitely harder afterward, as it is impossible to take your mind back into it.

Of course, away from the delusions, there is also the clarity. The delusions and the clarity are two very distinctly different things. The clarity is in many ways the thing that pulled me oftentimes from the delusions.
It is a very difficult thing to explain to people that in many ways, you are in complete control of your mind in a 'psychosis', only seeing reality with unfettered perceptions.

The clarity is what also often causes you to fall back into delusion, as the sheer horror of human reality is too much too bear. It is truly maddening. When the veneer of civility is stripped from your eyes and you see things as they are. Sometimes of course you see things that ease your mind, the love of a friendship, or the care of a parent.
Though also in these moments you can see things that are really rather disturbing, the slight look of desperation in one friends face, the quick shade of anger that flits across the face of a mother. These things pale in comparison to the terror of the system though. Its mechanical maelstrom is a truly mesmerizing mindfuck.

I can recall quite clearly walking through Wellington in a state of heightened awareness, on a week day, the city bustling about me in its quaint earnestness. Quaint of course because Wellington is like the little engine that could, a 'big' city that is not that big, though of course it does make fairly bold movements at times.

I walked through with a slow jaunt, completely aware of my surroundings, and I could actually see the system at work, the traffic lights changing in their flickering computerized roundabout system, the pedestrian shuffle, slow sloping walks, to high speed sidestepping maneuvers, the beeps, grunts of bus and truck brakes, the cacophonous sounds of the city's song. The bank inhaling cash, in the form of people and their dreams, sucking in bright faces and spitting out defeated visage's.

The fake smiles, the uncaring greetings, the shallow laughter. These things can drive you into the darker parts of the human psyche quite quickly. You can see easily that humanity has very much lost control, as it is quite plain that there are very few people who are actually happy among those who inhabit the city as it works, though they be its very lifeblood, there is a dead quality to them as they flow in its paved and carpeted veins.

This of course is probably one of the most maddening things of all in many ways. You see the pain and suffering in the people as they move, the sorrow. And yet there is nothing to be done, the apathy is set. Empathy has gone. Anger has taken its place. Vengeance must be taken, on those who cause you pain, those people above you, around you, who make your life more difficult. It is a sad rat race.

Its talons lie deep in people though, forcing them about their business. Of course there are many who in many moments enjoy the day to day reality of it, I my self being one, the vigor of work does stir you in many ways toward a type of happiness, though in many ways it is a happiness that is fleeting. The urge to anesthetize comes on strong at the end of the working week, regardless of the profession in most cases.

For me, on many occasions, safely ensconced in the psychiatric ward, looking out at the city and the meanderings and goings on, it was easy to see in certain moments that myself and the people who were with me, were in fact, the sane ones. We had had enough and needed to be shut away, as the system had irked us so severely that we could not trudge along in it.

Is it not odd that people who laugh and dance provoke people to mention madness so easily? And cynicism and sneering behaviour is looked upon as normal?

All we really want is to be loved and to love. To be free. These things have become so difficult in the reality of the system that owns us from birth. The system that is beyond human control. People talk about groups of individuals who control the masses. Secret cabals, shady foundations. To me this is just a strange sort of hope. To me humanity has lost control, we are in the grip of a power that is inhuman, a mechanical monster of our own creation that has enslaved great masses of the worlds population to a creed that is based on greed and power.

People who do not wish to hear such things say that there is happiness in the modern world, though they are quick to brush over the cold hard fact that billions of people fight tooth and nail every day for mere survival.

We live in a beautiful world, as Coldplay so beautifully put to music in one of my favorite tunes. It is a cold hard world as well, with dashes of joy and goodness. May we all try harder to alleviate the suffering of the masses of humanity who live in fear of the calamity tomorrow may bring. May we rediscover our spirit and redefine human existence. It is never too late. Empathy over apathy. Create love and eliminate hate. Peace.

Possibilities that may exist

Take a step into the future. Where humanity will be in one thousand years. Impossible, and foolhardy. I see around me intense fixation on the past. Entire branches of the media devoted to relaying the boring events of the last few hours. Further back though, with these books of 'god', written by men? Haha, someone is having a laugh.

Living the strange lie of realizing what the world is about in many deep and odd ways, it is often hard to find anyone with which to talk about this with. Such a facade in the workplace, the image of the person is given to the work associates and perfected over time according to design.

Humanity is dysfunctional on a level where people are sick of hearing it. They don't care anymore, apathy prevails as people give into brutal biological reckonings of what humanity is, immediately giving people the defense of 'their animal nature' prompting them. May we engage our cognitive powers more willingly in the future, instead of wasting them as we do on television, video games and other such fanciful pastimes. Humanity is stalled, and needs to push through the mayhem and solidify a plan in a more meaningful and all encompassing manner.

The notion of any sort of division according to nationality is something that needs to be left behind. The struggle is and will be those in power and those not, no matter your race or even religion in the end. 'Race' and 'Religion' should and hopefully will, become merely reference topics for a guide to redundant follies.

There is much we have learned. And much we will. I pretend to know something sometimes, but most of the time I have not arrived anywhere in terms of a solid philosophy. It just becomes so severely taxing when you regard the world at a slight angle on occasion. It is often then that you realize you are taking it too easily, the deranged makeup of modern society is terribly inefficient and causes many deaths in the general populace. The distribution of money is completely warped in favour of groups and people who waste it on frivolities and great economic ventures, losing millions on the stock market and having fiendishly over the top extravagant parties while millions starve.

The horror of that is so cliched now though. The image should not be though, that of a small child emaciated and feverish fading away into death because there is no food while western families throw away tonnes of good food a year. Does this not seem odd?

To me, yes,it does, terribly negligent really, as this situation is not new. It could have been cleared up years ago by a more functional United Nations with more power and clearer goals. And essentially, a higher ratio of scientists and artists in these councils also. There is no reason why it is not so when you really get down to brass tacks. Lawyers and economists run the govt? How functionally prepared can you be for skulduggery. The other branches of science and the arts are where balance could finally be achieved in some way that could provide a more reliable reflection of the desires of the greater community. On the back of course of a far better funded education system.

All the world should implement large scale education programs across their countries, it should be a United Nations initiative, 'educate the world'.

Possibilities that may exist.