thexepervoyage

Photograph

2011-11-20T01:06:00.000Z

Back Alley

2011-09-24T17:23:00.000+01:00

Back Alley, Cregagh Road Belfast

Happiness

2011-09-13T21:12:00.002+01:00

Happiness. Back alley, Cregagh Road, east Belfast

It's OK! Love Big Brother

2011-08-17T22:24:00.003+01:00

'OK!' is calling itself "the official Big Brother magazine". Ain't that just the goddamn truth. #loveyourgovernment

This Is Not A Toilet

2011-07-12T23:12:00.001+01:00

Belfast: Killowen Street back entry

So we went in search of the Wicker Man's legs...

2011-07-04T12:09:00.002+01:00

My mate Mark was someone who I shared a lot of experiences with when we were growing up. We beaked off school together, we got caught beaking off school together and were both raised by mad families. On through to adulthood we have shared a love of 1960’s and 1970’s British culture to the point that I do think we are to this day caught in a period of time where red telephone boxes, beauty board and flying ducks on walls of smoke-filled living rooms, matching vest and pants, Vauxhall Viva cars, and no internet exist. I’m beginning to think we are unable to move out of it less we lose our very souls.

Every so often for the past number of years we occasionally get together, eat a Chinese takeaway and watch old British Horror films. ‘The Satanic Rites of Dracula’ has been screened at these nights many times along with ‘The Curse of the Crimson Altar’ however our love for all things Fawlty-Towers-pre-Thatcher-Britain is encapsulated in the 1973 film ‘The Wicker Man’. We have watched and discussed the film, joined Wicker Man internet discussion forums and analysed the film to a point of having our heads firmly planted up our own arses. I had no idea Mark wanted to take this Wicker Man obsession one step further…

It was the year 2000 and from my ever-fading memory it was all executed in a bit of a rush. Mark went ahead with the arrangements, the planning and the strategy. I was oblivious to all of it. "We're going to find the legs of the Wicker Man" he told me. No reply came from my end. With a military-like precision Mark produced documents, tickets and brochures from his inside pocket and ran through his planned exercise with an automated delivery. The man had a plan and I was to be his second in command in this special task force of two. We were going to find the giant legs of the wooden figure used in the 1973 'horror' movie 'The Wicker Man'. The bases of both legs were allegedly still in-situ cemented into some Scottish hillside for all eternity. I was now getting worried. Had our many times of watching the Wicker man together as fellow nerds with only beer and Chinese food to keep us alive finally drove him to obsession? God! Maybe he's developing some kind of sexual fetish about the film I thought. Or maybe he has plans to sacrifice me at the site where the end scene of the movie was shot, when Sergeant Howie (Edward Woodward) is burnt alive inside the colossal figure of the Wicker Man. Either way it was going to be a fun weekend in Scotland.

And so, two buck eejits from Belfast went in search of the Wicker Man's legs. A plane from Belfast to Liverpool followed by a hired car and a drive to rural Scotland. Creetown was the destination. Before leaving Liverpool, we visited 251 Menlove Avenue, the childhood home of John Lennon. It stood as a pre-war monument to an England long since passed. John Boorman's 'Hope and Glory' could have been shot here. Strawberry Field was the next stop. We both paid silent homage to this symbol of a disappearing England. Once we headed out of Liverpool, Mark had to admit that his plan had a flaw - his road map printed from the Internet didn't give any indication of how to get from Stranraer to Creetown. In a pompous English fashion the map showed every nook and cranny of England, but only showed main parts of Scotland, as if the nooks and crannies of this country were irrelevant. I mean, who would want to visit Creetown? Mark was miffed. Someone's chucked a spanner in the works sort of miffed. I still hadn't got passed him originally telling me about the project, six days previous, so I sat like the husband at the birth of a child, useless with not a shred of anything positive to suggest to better the situation.

We arrived at The Ellangowan Hotel in Creetown following a long drive and about six roadside cafe stops, and with the help of a proper map, bought from one of these postwar, modern-esque kitchens designed in the big, big factory of really bad taste ideas. High rise flats without the high rise. Images of the comedian Steve Coogan's alter-ego Alan Partridge flashed continually through my brain. Reggie Perrin. England. Vauxhall Vivas. Abigail's Party. Top of the Pops album covers. Brown. Beige. Cigarettes. Ashtrays on stands. The Ellangowan known in the film as 'The Green Man' was the location for some of the main scenes of the movie. It was untouched since 1973 sitting still in time with the same décor and the very same bar. The tune of 'The Landlord's Daughter' wafted across my brain. Immediately Mark and I were taken back. It really was the same. We walked in with dread that we should be seen by the locals as either lunatics, obsessed with a cult British Horror film, or the worse alternative, a couple of married men sneaking away for a rampant homosexual weekend together but no, they entertain nerds exactly like us regularly. People come from all over the globe to visit the 'Green Man'. They even hold an annual Wicker Man convention which the previous year had Edward Woodward (Sergeant Howie) himself in attendance.

Mark and I were not alone. There were others who did this. It was okay now. We could be ourselves. We could ask the local people questions about the shooting of the film without expecting to be chased away.A couple of pints later in the bar, the landlord and a few locals were shooting forth story after story....Brit Ekland was a stuck-up cow....Lindsay Kemp drinking with the locals dressed in an orange kaftan and carrying a ladies handbag. They spoke so well of Kemp, even though he must have looked, let's say, rather different.....Edward Woodward, nice chap. The Wicker Man flavour was coming to the fore now.

A night's sleep then day two. The school house at Anwoth. The scene of the now famous maypole dance to the birth/death/rebirth song...."In the woods there grew a tree, and a fine, fine tree was he...." Across the road was the church used for the almost psychedelic graveyard scenes. We were both excited about this. Any Wicker Man anorak-nerd would be. With Mark at the wheel, we approached the site with an air of reverence. This was the real deal! It looked like, as with the 'Green Man', untouched since the making of the film. Frozen. Did someone know that one day people would be visiting here to pay homage? Bonkers.

I walked reverently around the old Church yard, looking for recognisable gravestones from the film.....the one with the text about the serpent. It was then Mark informed me that the main featured stones were in fact props. Is there anything he doesn't know about this bloody film? He made a find. It was a twelve inch by three inch piece of wood with the letter 'L' painted on it - perhaps from the wooden crates used in the film for Summerisle Apples? Perhaps the one that Sergeant Howie (Edward Woodward) tore apart with his bare hands to make a Cross, which he put on one of the 'pagan' graves? It looked very much like it! Mark kept it. We never pursued the piece of wood any further. If it wasn't from the days of the filming, we didn't want to know. Best left to romance, but maybe the answer lies in the following excerpt from Edward Woodward's foreword to the "Inside The Wicker Man" book which Mark discovered upon our return ........."at the graveyard at which Howie fashioned a wooden cross to ward off the Mark voodoo, I raked through the grass and found the same sodden crucifix: it had lain there untouched since I had discarded it at the end of the scene 25 years before." (Edward Woodward, October 1999).

We made our way from the still silence of Anwoth to the wild blustery hillsides of rural Scotland. To Burrow Head where the film’s cave and beach scenes were filmed near St Ninian’s Cave. It was also the location for the famous climax to the film where the giant effigy of the Wicker Man was burnt. This was the part of the journey that Mark was most excited about. This is the location where the essence of what the Wicker Man was about, would be found....at the final resting place of the the figurehead of the movie. Burrow Head was a cliff at the South West corner of Scotland, in Kirkcudbrightshire. It is wild, the Irish Sea roaring in over the grey rocks. The paganism of the Wicker Man could be felt. The ode to Nuada, Goddess of the Sun. The Chaos of Nature seemed as true order. Now all we had to do was search a vast expanse of marshland and rocks to find two wooden stumps standing erect and proud. Why? Because it was Mark’s plan and it was going to be executed. That's why.

I became stuck in a bog, right up to my knees, much to the mirth of Mark. He was in his element here. If there was anyone who could find thirty-odd year old tree-trunks, used in 1970's low-budget, British-made horror films, it was Mark. My stumbling about Scottish hillsides made my partner look kind of rugged and not at all like the clichéd buffoon character from a 'Carry-On' film. He was the straight guy and I was the very unintentional idiot. We climbed and scrambled our way, and there they were - the legs of the Wicker Man himself, or rather two wooden 'telegraph' poles. Wooden telegraph poles cemented into the ground. Across land and sea to find two wooden telegraph poles cemented into the ground.'WM-72' was engraved in the cement. This little engraving was confirmation for us - 'Wicker Man, 1972' - an ancient hieroglyph, all the way from 1972.

We stood for about half an hour imagining all sorts of twisted Wicker Man things. Mark was home. Mission complete, well almost. He informed me that there were another set of legs from another Wicker Man built for the film. This site was further along the coast at a caravan site. It was the caravan site from Hell. A Butlin’s holiday camp of death. A collection of grey caravans, uniform and shackled. It was an overcast day which made the site one of the most depressing sights I have ever seen. An hour's searching proved no results for us. It was cold and the thought of a few pints of alcohol back at the Green Man easily paved a way to the notion of the abandonment of the last stage of the mission. It was a deal. Into the car as quickly as possible and away from the 1960's caravan site, set in the heart of the 21st century, to the Ellangowan back in Creetown. A night with the locals in the Green Man was our plan. That would've been the reality had they all not gone to the next town to play a darts match against a rival pub. Great. Mark and I sitting in a completely empty pub, left unattended. Some would say that would be a form of heaven, but to us sitting together in an abandoned pub with free access to the booze was a hilarious finale to this odd pilgrimage to Scotland.

It does not really matter what this expedition was about, for it is yet another one of life's surreal episodes which are now accumulating in our own little life stories. Mark and I found ourselves in locations which were both very beautiful and an integral aspect of a film which we both love. We were nerds to the par of ten, driven by Mark’s orchestrated plan. The funniest things happen to you when you actually get off your rump and go do something...

Squamata

2011-06-23T12:19:00.003+01:00

H.A.A.R.P

2011-03-18T22:26:00.002Z

H.A.A.R.P

A Guinness Working (A Gift from Ireland)

2011-03-03T22:48:00.011Z

I - Go to a bar and order a pint of Guinness. Ask for it in a "Guinness Glass". If you are successful, you should receive a strange, black potion.

II - Consider the creamy ‘head’ at the top of the Guinness. This represents what you currently know about yourself.

III - Consider the black underneath the creamy head of the Guinness. This represents what you currently DON’T know about yourself.

IV - Lift the glass up and attempt to see through the blackest liquid you will probably ever partake of. Look at the Black and consider the ratio between what you currently DO know and DON’T know about yourself.

V - Look at the word ‘GUINNESS’. Look for the hidden word 'GENIUS'.

VI - Take a healthy drink of your pint of Guinness. As you do, consider the word ‘GENIUS’ and what it means to you. Feel that you are drinking in, and to, your very own Genius.

VII - Enjoy the experience of this strange, black substance and experience its unique taste – one like no other liquid you will ever drink. Utter to yourself "I drink in Black Essence and it flows through every fibre of my Being! May I discover the hidden secrets to who I AM."

VIII - While you drink your pint of Guinness, consider these words; "There is a secret hidden Self who has been present with me always, prompting, guiding, enticing, steering me through my life's journey. In this moment I Become that presence, the Highest of Life."

IX - The rest is up to you. I Wish You Well On Your Journey.

Self-Remembering

2011-02-17T10:32:00.002Z

Recently I visited a 'secret place' from my childhood days and found my name carved into an old garage door from 1980. Self-Remembering is a Joy!

Nothing Escapes The Eye In The Sky

2010-10-31T17:43:00.002Z

The Hollow Men

2010-10-27T15:13:00.006+01:00

The Hollow Men by TS Eliot (1925)

Mistah Kurtz -- he dead.
A penny for the Old Guy

I

We are the hollow men
We are the stuffed men
Leaning together
Headpiece filled with straw. Alas!
Our dried voices, when
We whisper together
Are quiet and meaningless
As wind in dry grass
Or rats' feet over broken glass
In our dry cellar

Shape without form, shade without colour,
Paralysed force, gesture without motion;

Those who have crossed
With direct eyes, to death's other Kingdom
Remember us -- if at all -- not as lost
Violent souls, but only
As the hollow men
The stuffed men.

II

Eyes I dare not meet in dreams
In death's dream kingdom
These do not appear:
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
There, is a tree swinging
And voices are
In the wind's singing
More distant and more solemn
Than a fading star.

Let me be no nearer
In death's dream kingdom
Let me also wear
Such deliberate disguises
Rat's coat, crowskin, crossed staves
In a field
Behaving as the wind behaves
No nearer --

Not that final meeting
In the twilight kingdom

III

This is the dead land
This is cactus land
Here the stone images
Are raised, here they receive
The supplication of a dead man's hand
Under the twinkle of a fading star.

Is it like this
In death's other kingdom
Waking alone
At the hour when we are
Trembling with tenderness
Lips that would kiss
Form prayers to broken stone.

IV

The eyes are not here
There are no eyes here
In this valley of dying stars
In this hollow valley
This broken jaw of our lost kingdoms

In this last of meeting places
We grope together
And avoid speech
Gathered on this beach of the tumid river

Sightless, unless
The eyes reappear
As the perpetual star
Multifoliate rose
Of death's twilight kingdom
The hope only
Of empty men.

V

Here we go round the prickly pear
Prickly pear prickly pear
Here we go round the prickly pear
At five o'clock in the morning.

Between the idea
And the reality
Between the motion
And the act
Falls the Shadow

-- For Thine is the Kingdom

Between the conception
And the creation
Between the emotion
And the response
Falls the Shadow

-- Life is very long

Between the desire
And the spasm
Between the potency
And the existence
Between the essence
And the descent
Falls the Shadow

-- For Thine is the Kingdom

For Thine is
Life is
For Thine is the

This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
This is the way the world ends
Not with a bang but a whimper.

What's on your mind?

2010-08-15T13:46:00.001+01:00

The computer asked me today, "What's on your mind?" and I answered: "The beautiful moments from the Past, the quagmire of the Present, and the amazing possibilities of the Future."

The Strange Companion

2010-05-23T22:58:00.006+01:00

The Companion - a Presence who has been appearing in glimpses thrughout your life. During your childhood, you would have seen more of The Companion due to the greater Sense of Wonder you had as a child. In those moments when you were perhaps alone and in a secret place - hiding in a closet, or under a bed or walking alone. In those moments alone when a cold shiver would run up the back of your spine - they were ideal moments to get a glimpse, or feeling of this strange Companion.

~ Think of as many moments like that you can, only this time as you view those past moments, see The Companion there with you as a Guide, waiting patiently through the years and different experiences until you are ready to See It.

The Soul

2010-04-17T17:01:00.000+01:00

"Some religions think the egg is the symbol of the soul..."

The Individual

2010-03-03T23:50:00.001Z

Amongst the crowd is safe. Alone is alone, separate, individual.

Time Out

2010-02-13T17:55:00.000Z

Jesus in Diamonds

2010-02-04T21:47:00.002Z

sweat box,
the pain barrier,
interface,
lunar base.
from the heart rate,
to the stock-take,
you've got jesus,
and diamonds,
and a disappearing soul.

time out,
laser beam,
speculate,
accumulate,
from the wonders of science,
we bring you...
jesus in diamonds.

sound bytes,
log on,
hot metal,
cutting through the sky,
deadlines,
white lines,
you've got freedom of speech,
but a disappearing soul.

Reversing the Polarity

2010-02-04T14:52:00.000Z

A Night in San Francisco

2010-02-03T21:44:00.006Z

I once spent a night in San Francisco facing my fears at Twin Peaks in darkness, followed by sitting on the edge of Stow Lake looking for the Ghost of a lady who inhabits the waters. The funniest things happen when you get of your rump and step out of your usual 'no surprises', Pleasant Valley Sunday world...

Twin Peaks, San Francisco
Stow Lake, San Francisco

There is a Secret God...

2010-01-30T23:09:00.002Z

There is a Secret God, a Hidden God, who dwells in a spiralling tower fortress and who has guided and overseen our development from time immemorial--and who has remained concealed but very close to us awaiting the "future" time of re-awakening. The time of the re-awakening is near. Already we have heard the distant claps of thunder which signal the coming storm...

How Life Looks At This Moment

2010-01-28T16:59:00.004Z

A Secret

2009-11-27T10:20:00.002Z

It is pretty powerful and heady stuff to Understand and Recognise how a secret, hidden intelligence that flows through Everything-That-Was, Everything-That-Is and Everything-That-Is-To-Be, is also flowing through you.

Gulp.

A Key

2009-11-27T10:13:00.004Z

You only have to be involved with something as much as you want to be involved with that something.

A pyramid on his lap...

2009-10-26T21:52:00.000Z

Delete your history

2009-10-11T02:25:00.000+01:00

The question is Who Are You?

2009-07-16T11:47:00.003+01:00

Sex

2009-06-26T20:59:00.001+01:00

SPECTOR, P

2009-06-24T13:45:00.003+01:00

The Priest

2009-06-22T12:35:00.002+01:00

The ULTIMATE form of Entertainment...

2009-06-09T21:13:00.004+01:00

This is an Entertainer..He entertains.He is available for hire - not from here.

A form of life. That of the Entertainer. All they demand is public acceptance. Just love them. From the high-rise decay to the Ritz. It's a dream. It's the success of hate. The Entertainer wants you to to give them money. And fame. And immunity from this world. And a golf partner....who also happens to be famous... and wealthy. To dream of excess. And of wasted food. And of Bombast. And of a red, plastic Ferrari. And of having influence. And to be just the same as them Posh bastards. And most of all, not to be ordinary.The first million is always the hardest to make. After that.....it's hyper-living. The sun will shine all day on the backs of the fat, the immobile, the part-Spanish speaking, gold-clad, entertainers.

You can take the man out of the life he knew as 'the gutter', but you can't take 'the gutter' out of the man. You can only dress him in jewellery and Sports-Casual clothing.From beings of light to comics with one catchphrase.And you and I sweat pig-dirt in spite-filled jobs to earn the money to pay for them.... The Entertainers. They Entertain... and Entertainment is the ULTIMATE form of Entertainment.

MobilePhoneObsession

2009-06-09T21:03:00.000+01:00

MobilePhoneObsession - On a five minute trip to a garage I counted eight people talking or texting on their mobile 'phones. The girl who worked in the garage was serving customers while speaking on her 'phone to her friend about what she did last night. The girl she was serving was texting a message to someone. Even though the two of them were interacting with each other, they seemed oblivious to the other. There were three males standing outside the garage sharing mobile 'phone ring-tones with each other..."here, what about this one? Imagine being wiped out and listening to that..." one of them said. Another three people I spotted in the garage either talking or texting on their 'phones.

IdiotWriting - I received an email from someone telling me that they were "still in a shit job" and I read another letter from someone who informed me that he was attending a "creative wratting coarse" - he meant "creative writing course".

What is society coming to?

Fancy another drink?

2009-06-08T22:43:00.001+01:00

Walking in a Meadowe Greene

2009-06-05T16:52:00.002+01:00

Anon - 17th Century;

Walking in a meadowe greene, fayre flowers for to gather,
where primrose rankes did stand on bankes, to welcome corners thither,
I heard a voice which made a Noise, which caused me to attend it,
I heard a lass say to a Ladd, "once more & none can mend it."

They lay soe close together, they made me much to wonder;
I knew not which was wether, until I saw her under.
Then off he came, & blusht for shame soe soon that he had endit;
Yet still she lies, & to him cryes, "once more and none can mend it."

His looks were dull and verry sad, his courage slice had tamed;
Shee bad him play the lusty lad or else he quite was shamed;
"Then stiffly thrust, bee hit me just, ffear not, but freely spend it,
& play about at in & out; once more and none can mend it."

And then he thought to venter her, thinking the ffit was on him; Enter
But when he came to enter her the poynt turnd back upon him.
Yet she said, "stay! goe not away although the point be bended!
But toot againe & hit the vaine! once more & none can Mend it."

Then in her Armes shee did him fold, & oftentimes shee kist him,
Yett still his courage was but cold, for all the good shee wisht him;
Yett with her hand she made it stand so stiffe she could not bend it,
& then anon she cryes, "come on, once more & none can mend it!"

"Adew, adew, sweet hart," quoth bee, "for in faith I must be gone."
"Nay, then you doe me wrong" quoth she, "to leave me thus alone."
Away he went when all was spent, wherat she was offended:
Like a Trojan true she made a vow shee wold have one shold mend it.

Coming Together

2009-05-21T11:07:00.003+01:00

From the Belfast to London to Berlin to San Francisco to Home, it's been quite an amazingly synchronised ride. Nothing has gone to waste. Every moment has came, impacted and synthesised into this, right now. This is the beginning.

1968

2009-03-29T21:00:00.002+01:00

This boy has come through a lot since this picture taken in 1968...

Drunk

2009-02-19T23:04:00.001Z

Humans on a Saturday night don't look much better.

That's the way...

2009-02-09T00:05:00.003Z

That's the way the stomach rumbles
That's the way the bee bumbles
That's the way the needle pricks
That's the way the glue sticks
That's the way the potato mashes
That's the way the pan flashes
That's the way the market crashes
That's the way the whip lashes
That's the way the teeth gnashes
That's the way the gravy stains
That's the way the moon wanes

by Tom Waits

Four things

2009-01-26T22:16:00.002Z

#1: you don't have to do what you do.
#2: if you keep it all in, you'll explode.
#3: everything has importance.
#4: a belief is not a fact.

From Rosa to Barack

2009-01-20T23:09:00.006Z

On December 1, 1955 in Montgomery, Alabama, Rosa Parks refused to obey a bus driver's order to give up her seat to make room for a white passenger. Little did she know what affect this would eventually have on the world.

The seat layout on the bus where Rosa Parks sat.

By Our Actions Are We Known

2008-12-31T01:00:00.002Z

It is by your actions in this world how you will be known. Where does that leave you?

Remember

2008-12-18T22:58:00.003Z

Remember Who You Are.

Toward the Longest Night

2008-12-18T22:33:00.009Z

All Magic came to this world as a Flame.
That Magic has shaped Me.
Tonight I opened MySelf to the Mysteries.

Tonight I drank things in.

Escaping the Grey

2008-12-10T22:29:00.004Z

When the factory horn sounded streams of people wearing navy overalls, each carrying a plastic lunch box with an elastic band around it flowed right up my street. It was half past four and Scott’s Mechanical workers were getting out. Every day my friends and I would halt our games while a couple of hundred people passed through our playing territory. We used to wait for May, a really nice lady who always had a big smile on her face. We would run over to her and she would give us each a kiss. I'm not so sure why we went through this daily ritual but we did and it was fun. May was always seemed glad to see us.

As the hordes went by I could smell tobacco smoke marinated with the smell of oil from the navy overalls. They streamed by continuously never ceasing for a full fifteen minutes then nothing, only the odd noise of traffic and rain. There was nothing but a fierce Ulster sky, monotone, threatening and grey. Suddenly there were no people and in the silence Ravenhill Avenue looked like death.

I hail from brown furniture, from ashtrays on stands, from velvet patterned wallpaper, from Player's No.6 cigarettes, from vests and pants, from sentimentalist country and western music, from drunks giving me money, from the smell of alcohol, from foul-mouths, from hollow beings, from the mental sewer where people exist within a series of restrictions rather than allowances - “You can’t do this and you can’t think that. You can’t wear those clothes. You can’t be a doctor or a lawyer or a musician – you’re working class – know your place.”

I was eight years old and me and my mates would play at being paramilitaries. While the rest of Britain’s kids were playing Cowboys and Indians we were pretending to be the UDA. I spent my youth at Glentoran football matches and sitting with old men in drinking clubs, an Ulster tradition was force-fed to me. The importance of the desire for money was the focus given to me – work hard and make a few quid when you can. Stereotypical behaviour was encouraged. Do not break the mould was the order. We were the herd. We do not belong anywhere else except with the swill and the swine.
My days as a working man began at the age of fifteen years old with an electrical apprenticeship working on construction sites. I was keeping company with machismo, banter, beer-guts and the kept anger of men who had no vision. I stuck it for seven years…then I left that world and the old house where I grew up in to go to London. I had escaped. Magical doors opened when I saw pictures of the works of Christo, the films of Werner Herzog, reading Casteneda, TS Eliot and Orwell, hearing the music of Kate Bush, XTC and Bowie. It was people such as those who let me know through their works, that I was not alone in this world. From that the only escape routes I knew of were through music and reading to educate myself and that is what I did.

I spent three and a half years indulging in hedonistic emancipated bliss in dear old London Town. The world as I knew it from Belfast was a lot different from this new world I was experiencing. I learnt, experienced and indulged, and this eventually evolved into yet another form of madness driven by sheer hedonism. It was an existence which could not continue else I lose my purpose. I was wise enough to return to Belfast and here I am still. In my heart I do know that if the escape from Ravenhill Avenue had not been executed I would have definitely fallen into ‘enemy’ hands and would have become a slave to the machismo, banter, beer-guts and would have ended up as one of the men with kept anger and no vision. They would definitely have taken me prisoner in the end - and THAT is Death. I haven't visited the old house in a long time…

The Black Muse

2008-12-05T01:20:00.003Z

'The Black Muse' - A sculpture by Yukon-based artist James Kirby from from Granite and African Blackstone.

Flow

2008-12-05T01:01:00.009Z

The Word of the week is _FLOW_.

Flow originates from the Latin word 'fluere' meaning "to flow".

Flow - a dictionary definition;
1 a: to issue or move in a stream b: to move with a continual change of place among the constituent particles.
2: rise
3: abound
4 a: to proceed smoothly and readily b: to have a smooth continuity
5: to hang loose and billowing
6: to derive from a source.
7: to deform under stress without cracking or rupturing —used especially of minerals and rocks

Flow, a system developed by Mihály Csíkszentmihályi, is the mental state of operation in which the person is fully immersed in what he or she is doing by a feeling of energized focus, full involvement, and success in the process of creative activity. Csíkszentmihályi identifies the following nine components as accompanying an experience of flow, something which resonates and relates with many of life's activities, whether it be creating Art, or doing your own personal Work.

1. Clear goals (expectations and rules are discernible and goals are attainable and align appropriately with one's skill set and abilities).
2. Concentrating and focusing, a high degree of concentration on a limited field of attention (a person engaged in the activity will have the opportunity to focus and to delve deeply into it).
3. A loss of the feeling of self-consciousness, the merging of action and awareness.
4. Distorted sense of time, one's subjective experience of time is altered.
5. Direct and immediate feedback (successes and failures in the course of the activity are apparent, so that behavior can be adjusted as needed).
6. Balance between ability level and challenge (the activity is neither too easy nor too difficult).
7. A sense of personal control over the situation or activity.
8. The activity is intrinsically rewarding, so there is an effortlessness of action.
9. People become absorbed in their activity, and focus of awareness is narrowed down to the activity itself, action awareness merging.

Flow. It would appear to be a valuable asset.

Knowledge, Experience and Understanding

2008-12-04T21:01:00.002Z

...in formulæ;

Knowledge x Experience = a Greater Understanding.
Knowledge - Experience = a lesser understanding.
Experience - Knowledge = a catastrophe and/or a very hard lesson learnt.

An Empty Room

2008-11-03T17:45:00.007Z

Just an empty room in San Francisco. Thirty minutes previously in this same room, the Cosmos had burst into life in the most spectacular way, however it now sits as just another empty room in San Francisco.

We Are Your Future

2008-09-18T14:04:00.013+01:00

Wind Yer Neck In

2008-09-18T14:04:00.012+01:00

Narcissism - inordinate fascination with oneself; excessive self-love; vanity. Psychoanalysis. erotic gratification derived from admiration of one's own physical or mental attributes, being a normal condition at the infantile level of personality development.

It's best to get one's head out of one's bum, or on second thought, perhaps ignorance is bliss? Is it a better trip to think you're a Bodhisattva than to actually know you're nowhere near Being one? Mahatma Ghandi once said, "It is unwise to be too sure of one's own wisdom. It is healthy to be reminded that the strongest might weaken and the wisest might err." In Belfast, there is a remark often made to a person when he thinks too much of himself - "Wind yer' neck in mate".

This Year's Birthday Cake

2008-08-19T23:10:00.001+01:00

Pandemonium

2008-07-31T16:52:00.006+01:00

Pandemonium was used by John Milton in "Paradise Lost". It was the name of the palace built in the middle of Hell, "the high capital of Satan and all his peers". The word comes from the Greek 'Pan' meaning "all" and the Latin 'Daemonium' a concept which has been widely interpreted from an evil spirit, or inferior divine power, to the Inner Daemon or Guardian Angel. The idea of "All Inner Daemons" being present, giving us a state of Pandemonium sounds about right...

The Pergamon Altar - 9:Oct:XLII

2008-07-25T02:58:00.013+01:00

In Berlin, I climbed the twenty-four steps of the Pergamon Altar (described in the Book of Revelation as the seat of Satan), to sit on the top step, above the Gods. On a shaky camera I managed to capture a very significant moment in my life...

Culture Trash

2008-07-18T16:34:00.002+01:00

Thought

2008-07-17T20:12:00.003+01:00

Breathing is Optional.

The Sick Rose

2008-07-17T20:09:00.002+01:00

O Rose, thou art sick.
The invisible worm,
That flies in the night
In the howling storm:

Has found out thy bed
Of crimson joy:
And his dark secret love
Does thy life destroy.

~~ William Blake (Songs of Experience 1794)

The Dawn of The Dead

2008-07-10T14:05:00.016+01:00

Whirlwind

2008-06-27T01:02:00.008+01:00

All I did was cast a series of questions out to the Universe nine days ago;

1. What is it?
2. Who is It?
3. Where is it?
4. How does it?
5. Why is it?
6. When is it to reveal itself?

The following day, the whirlwind began. It was brown dust, spiralling
around me carrying up and up in its vortex, past events and people from my life. I saw my genetic father spinning helplessly as he was taken by this wind of greater power. The thick dust was hurting my eyes and then I noticed something - the whirlwind was happening around me while I stood still, watching it. I had the impression of a cosmic vacuum cleaner, sucking up unwanted pieces of my life, in some sort of clean-up operation, except it was my life that was being cleared of debris.

On and on it continued throughout that day, right up until I went to bed in the early hours of the next morning. Later on that night, the whirlwind became a cold, rough sea with everything being tossed about. The following day, it felt like I'd been washed ashore on a beach and having been asleep for some time. It made me question as to whether this is delusion. I won't be caught up in flights of fancy. There's too much at stake to throw it away on delusion. I refuse to be swindled.

What Happened?

2008-05-03T23:12:00.002+01:00

Nature Boy

2008-03-18T01:31:00.006Z

The song 'Nature Boy' was written by eden ahbez, a man who refused to use capital letters to spell his name claiming "only God and the Infinite should be capitalized". In 1948, abhez went to the Los Angeles' Lincoln Theater in an attempt to get the music manuscript of his song 'Nature Boy' to the singer and musician, Nat King Cole ("I like the gentleness with which he plays"). Cole soon realised he has a *special* musical work offered as a Gift. The song went on to launch further Nat King Cole's career and make a very tidy sum of money for abhez... and within the song 'Nature Boy' and this short tale lies a Runa, or Mystery.

Not with a Bang

2008-03-05T01:47:00.004Z

This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang...but a whimper.
Ian Paisley is to stand down as Northern Ireland's first minister and as leader of the DUP.

Haut de la Garenne

2008-03-03T01:51:00.003Z

The Word of God

2008-02-12T22:00:00.001Z

"The wife has no rights over her own body, the husband has them."
I Corinthians, 7:4

Nine

2008-02-10T15:39:00.001Z

9.Nine.

9x1=9
9x2=18 [1+8=9]
9x3=27 [2+7=9]
9x4=36 [3+6=9]
9x5=45 [4+5=9]
9x6=54 [5+4=9]
9x7=63 [6+3=9]
9x8=72 [7+2=9]
9x9=81 [8+1=9]
9x10=90 [9+0=9]

666x1=666 [6+6+6=18...1+8=9]
666x2=1332 [1+3+3+2=9]
666x3=1998 [1+9+9+8=27...2+7=9]
666x4=2664 [2+6+6+4=18...1+8=9]
666x5=3330 [3+3+3+0=9]
666x6=3996 [3+9+9+6=27...2+7=9]
666x7=4662 [4+6+6+2=18...1+8=9]
666x8=5328 [5+3+2+8=18...1+8=9]
666x9=5994 [5+9+9+4=27...2+7=9]
666x10=6660 [6+6+6=18...1+8=9]

PigMen

2008-02-08T16:35:00.001Z

A picture of Peruvian riot police.

"No question, now, what had happened to the faces of the pigs. The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which."
(Animal Farm by George Orwell)

Scotch Mist - A film with Radiohead in it

2008-02-01T22:09:00.000Z

The Red Flame

2008-02-01T16:14:00.001Z

Balance

2008-01-20T15:15:00.002Z

"To obtain Magical Power, learn to control thought; admit only those ideas that are in harmony with the end desired, and not every stray and contradictory Idea that presents itself. Fixed thought is a means to an end. Therefore pay attention to the power of silent thought and meditation. The material act is but the outward expression of thy thought, and therefore hath it been said that "the thought of foolishness is sin." Thought is the commencement of action, and if a chance thought can produce much effect, what cannot fixed thought do?"

_LIBER LIBRÆ_

The Dawn Of Man

2008-01-13T20:14:00.001Z

An excerpt from Stanley Kubrick's '2001: A Space Odyssey'

5:00am

2007-12-16T05:00:00.001Z

It's 5:00am, dark and still.
That's just how I like it.
The Worker Bees will soon be awake.
They will buzz together as a cacophony.
I will attempt to float above them like a butterfly.
Unless they pin me down.
They do so quite often.

Until whatever happens, it's 5:00am, dark and still.
And that's just how I like it.

Becoming.

2007-11-02T01:14:00.000Z

The Prince and The Magician

2007-10-14T20:28:00.001+01:00

THE PRINCE AND THE MAGICIAN from _The Magus_ by John Fowles

Once upon a time there was a young prince, who believed in all things but three. He did not believe in princesses, he did not believe in islands, he did not believe in God. His father, the king, told him that such things did not exist. As there were no princesses or islands in his father's domaines, and no sign of God, the young prince believed his father.
But then, one day, the prince ran away from his palace. He came to the next land. There, to his astonishment, from every coast he saw islands, and on these islands, strange and troubling creatures whom he dared not name. As he was searching for a boat, a man in full evening dress approached him along the shore.
"Are those real islands?" asked the young prince.
"Of course they are real islands," said the man in evening dress.
"And those strange and troubling creatures?"
"They are all genuine and authentic princesses."
"Then God also must exist!" cried the prince."
I am God," replied the man in full evening dress, with a bow.
The young prince returned home as quickly as he could.
"So you are back," said his father, the king.
"I have seen islands, I have seen princesses, I have seen God," said the prince reproachfully.
The king was unmoved.
"Neither real islands, nor real princesses, nor a real God, exist."
"I saw them!""Tell me how God was dressed."
"God was in full evening dress."
"Were the sleeves of his coat rolled back?"
The prince remembered that they had been. The king smiled. "That is the uniform of a magician. You have been deceived."
At this, the prince returned to the next land, and went to the same shore, where once again he came upon the man in full evening dress.
"My father the king has told me who you are," said the young prince indignantly.
"You deceived me last time, but not again. Now I know that those are not real islands and real princesses, because you are a magician."
The man on the shore smiled. "It is you who are deceived, my boy. In your father's kingdom there are many islands and many princesses. But you are under your father’s spell, so you cannot see them."
The prince returned pensively home. When he saw his father, he looked him in the eyes. "Father, is it true that you are not a real king, but only a magician?"
The king smiled, and rolled back his sleeves. "Yes, my son, I am only a magician."
"Then the man on the shore was God."
"The man on the shore was another magician."
"I must know the real truth, the truth beyond magic."
"There is no truth beyond magic," said the king.The prince was full of sadness. He said, "I will kill myself."
The king by magic caused death to appear. Death stood in the door and beckoned to the prince. The prince shuddered. He remembered the beautiful but unreal islands and the unreal but beautiful princesses "Very well," he said. "I can bear it."
"You see, my son," said the king, "you too now begin to be a magician."

Synchronous

2007-09-05T22:38:00.000+01:00

The Irish can dance the pants offa anyone as this girl demonstrates.

Nothing

2007-08-20T18:39:00.001+01:00

August 20th, 2007 is the date it all fell apart. Every wall and barrier fell away leaving Nothing. I came into this world with Nothing and I sit here with Nothing. As I lay awake at 5am, the world appeared as free-standing walls, much like in a Theatre-Set and I watched as one by one, they fell over. As one set of walls fell, another box-construct of wooden walls behind it appeared, then collapsed. Then suddenly there were none. Before me stood a desert stretching for miles and a distant horizon.
Do I stand still and wait for a 'guide' to come along to help, or do I declare myself "the guide", pick a direction and begin walking?

Crop Circles - Man Made???

2007-08-18T20:42:00.000+01:00

Xeper - "I Have Come Into Being"

2007-07-18T00:00:00.000+01:00

Stills from The Truman Show

How to Identify a Freemason

2007-07-17T18:33:00.000+01:00

** Valuable information **

Why is Free Will rare in the Cosmos?

2007-07-16T16:12:00.004+01:00

I was asked a question; Why is Free Will rare in the Cosmos? Here are some thoughts...

“Free Will” is generally accepted as a thought, choice or action taken by someone in accordance with their desires, “I wanted to go to Berlin, so I bought a plane ticket and went.” That is how we generally view Free Will - You desire something so you take action, then you get it… or sometimes you don’t. But what about things you need? If a person takes an action out of need, is that action which is now driven by an external force (e.g. lack of money or a marriage breakdown) arising from Free Will?

Looking at Western Democratic Society, we can soon see that social factors are a huge contributor to a person being in a position to even acknowledge that we are able and entitled to use our own Free Will. If you come from an environment higher up the social ladder (the middle and upper classes), you will almost certainly stand a better chance of having enough education, time and space to be able to ponder the Cosmos and potentially realise concepts such as Free Will. Of course social-class, an initial default setting decided by birth and social environment, does not automatically include or exclude anyone from the discovering the Wisdom of Thoth.

In the sprawling, decadent, ‘under-class’ housing estates of Britain, to the urban ghettos of America to the shanty towns of South Africa there lie the ‘Under-Classes’, a seemingly hopeless section of society, driven purely by needs, resulting in anger and resentment fuelled by depravation. In many cases they see themselves as ‘underneath’ the middle and upper classes, therefore somehow ‘inferior’. In the vast majority of cases, the Under-Classes have no inclination that there is any other way. “Life’s a bitch” in the eyes of the Under-Class and life consists of Debt-Work-Drink-Argue-Fight-Hangover… "That's just the way it is, some things will never change..."

Free Will seen in Philosophical terms is no clearer apart from the link that is being established – Will is associated with Desire. Whether it is your Will to Master your Self or whether it is your Will to get out of your current job, a desire or a need must happen first to enable action to take place.

Nietzsche's ‘Will To Power" is one concept which has been viewed from different angles. The Nazis interpretated ‘Will To Power" as being a formula to obtain dominance. Others see “Will to Power” in terms of exerting your own Will towards Self-Overcoming or towards Xeper. Schopenhauer spoke of a “Will To Live” indicating that there were forces driving man, to remain alive and to reproduce. Schopenhauer saw this Will is the inner content and the driving force of the world operating prior to thought or being. Schopenhauer’s “Will To Live” draws an interesting parallel when we look at how Set introduced himself as “The Ageless Intelligence of This Universe” in the BoCFbN, a Being operating independently from the Order of the Universe. Set by a succinct declaration, encapsulated the Essence of Free Will. It is thoughts and actions operating independently from the Order of the Universe, of it’s own volition.

In my life I go to work to make some money. I do this on a conscious level not of my own Free Will, but as a compromise between needs and my Free Will. I work because I need money to pay for the upkeep of a house, car, three children and two cats. I see this as an act of Service and this requires a sacrifice which is my time and energy. Not ideal, but like I said it is a compromise. On a conscious level, I would egotistically interpret my Free Will or Desire as being one that wants to actually do very little – potter about the garden, read mind-blowing literature, write music, write blogs, make a pot of Earl Grey etc etc…but that is not my Free or ‘True’ Will. This is where on a sub-conscious level I think (!) that a Free or ‘True’ Will, operating prior to thought, steps in to deliberately STOP this happening.

If it didn’t, I would drift off into a “Hey Man… Syndrome”. Mushroom Brainsville and I would look something like the unfortunate chap in the picture above.

This Free or ‘True’ Will which operates prior to thought and so poetically depicted as “The Ageless Intelligence of This Universe” in the BoCFbN represents a force, operating independently from the Order of the Universe, of it’s own volition. Free. Accessing it is the hard part…

So why is Free Will rare in the Cosmos? We don’t know if Free Will is rare in the Cosmos. We can only answer that within the confines of the human brain, so the question maybe should have read “Why is Free Will rare in Humans?” A simple answer would be that Free Will is rare in Humans because most accept their lot in life. They don’t attempt to rise out of what they already Are and into what they can Become. They’ve been dealt a hand and will fold or give in rather than risk swapping some of the cards for new ones. That would mean change, a terrifying notion to some. Change means stepping into unknown territory or “The Darkness” and maybe having to take risks e.g. maybe having to go back to study, and in a lot of cases you can’t teach an old dog new tricks. They refuse to acknowledge that they need to learn.

Most humans are using a ‘collective Will’ which is of their environment. It’s an ‘Elemental Will’ created from generations of gradual enforcement of the attitude of simply accepting their lot in life, and we all know humans don’t like change at all, so generations upon generations of fearing change has sealed the fate of the individual’s Free Will. It is smothered by the slime of the “Collective Will”, and quite often never allowed to surface before suffocating.

Thou Art Thine Own God

2007-07-15T03:21:00.001+01:00

Thou must affirm the God in Thee
for every doubt takes power from Thee.
Every hour of Thy divine knowledge brings
Thee a step higher in Thy journey.
Thou canst unfold the spark,
That God bestowed on Thee, to a pure flame
that makes worlds fall and rise again,
God is in Thee! - Thou art Thyself God!
Thus Thou canst have Gods enthroned in Thee
build altars, ignite sacrificial flames,
for every dream - and form of thought is Thy power,
and every force of desire takes a form and shape.
Thus art Thou the shaper of transcendental worlds,
imaginary creator of Thine own realm
Thou art priest, magus, royal lord -
and prince in Thy soul's expanse.
Cyprus groves stand round Thy palaces of thought
and blue waves lap at the marble steps
and ships fare out upon the seas,
for Thee, who wearest the purple.
The earth is Thy sorrow that shaped the knowledge
and bitter fruits of Thy Golgatha -
And nevertheless the call rings out to Thee:
Lo! I am here.

by Gregor A. Gregorius

I read the News today oh boy...

2007-06-13T19:47:00.001+01:00

Some headline buzz-phrases, 13th June 2007

Seven Dead Babies
Systematic Torture
Day of Destruction
Fear of Eviction
Death Inquest
Girls Found Dead
Killed in Car Bombing

The Unknown...

2007-06-05T00:49:00.001+01:00

"As we know there are known knowns.
There are things we know we know.
We also know there are known unknowns.
That is to say we know there are some things we do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns, the ones we don't know we don't know."

Donald Rumsfeld, February 12th, 2002 at a Department of Defence news briefing.

Just a Ride...

2007-06-02T15:29:00.001+01:00

Let's find a point. Is there a point to my act? I would say there is. I have to.The world is like a ride in an amusement park. And when you choose to go on it, you think it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills and it's very brightly coloured and it's very loud and it's fun, for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time and they begin to question, is this real, or is this just a ride? And other people have remembered, and they come back to us, they say, "hey - don't worry, don't be afraid, ever, because, this is just a ride..."
And we... kill those people. Ha ha "Shut him up. We have a lot invested in this ride. Shut him up. Look at my furrows of worry. Look at my big bank account and my family. This just has to be real.

Just a ride. But we always kill those good guys who try and tell us that, you ever notice that? And let the demons run amok. But it doesn't matter because: It's just a ride. And we can change it anytime we want. It's only a choice. No effort, no work, no job, no savings and money. A choice, right now, between fear and love. The eyes of fear want you to put bigger locks on your doors, buy guns, close yourself off. The eyes of love, instead, see all of us as one. Here's what we can do to change the world, right now, to a better ride. Take all that money that we spend on weapons and defences each year and instead spend it feeding and clothing and educating the poor of the world, which it would many times over, not one human being excluded, and we could explore space, together, both inner and outer, forever, in peace.

Bill Hicks

The Darkness of St Michan's Church

2007-05-31T17:07:00.001+01:00

St Michan's Church in Dublin was built in 1686 on the site of an 11th century Hiberno-Viking chapel. It is the oldest church north of the river Liffey, and possibly the only one surviving from a Viking foundation.
In the vaults of the church lie a number of bodies mummified. The lack of body decomposition is said to be due to the church's limestone walls which keep the air purer. Some of the wooden coffins are lying open, revealing the dead, still with skin and strands of hair in place.

Among the preserved remains are a 400-year-old nun, a six-and-a-half foot Crusader, Henry and John Sheares (leaders of the 1798 rebellion), and a mysterious body with hands and feet severed. The Crusader had his legs bent in half the wrong way, the story being how in his time, coffins were mass-produced and the average height of an Irishman was around five feet tall. This six-and-a-half foot Crusader was probably seen as some sort of 'giant'. Anyway, rather than make a customised coffin for him, they simply snapped his legs in half and stuck him a a five foot coffin...

The various Earls of Kenmare are also interred here, as well as the family of Bram Stoker. One of the crypts contains the death mask of the United Irish leader Wolfe Tone. The churchyard is said to contain the unmarked grave of United Irishman Robert Emmet, leader of the 1803 rising.

Inside the Church itself, sits a keyboard which George Frederic Handel allegedly first performed The Messiah on. I was expecting something more grandiose in size and appearance, only to find a very small, basic looking keyboard which is entirely irrelevant. After all, an E major scale on one keyboard is the same E major scale on another...
There is a beautiful three-dimensional wood carving showing various instruments from an orchestra that sits above the organ gallery. It held my gaze for a long time until my eyes drifted towards the back of the Minister's pulpit where there lay a neat line of about ten human skulls.

I visited St Michan's church in the early 1990's. I feel that that Dark Crypt is calling me once again...

Doing versus Contemplating

2007-05-04T21:49:00.001+01:00

It has reached the point where I have had enough of reading about living life in accordance with my Will. I'm now out participating in the world. I'm doing instead of contemplating... and that's the way it should be...

Sometimes it's all you can do...

2007-01-01T18:34:00.000Z

Jazz Hands

2006-12-27T03:11:00.001Z

I hear him singing "Oh, don't sit unda' de apple tree, wid' anyone else but me..." in a Jimmy Durante voice.

Winter Solstice Working

2006-12-23T23:34:00.002Z

Life IS indeed a Phenomena - a word whose earliest meaning dates back to 1576 meaning "fact, occurrence" originating from the Greek phainomenon meaning "that which appears or is seen".

Life IS a Fact. It's there to be battled with, it is there to synchronize with. Life is there to be savoured or resented. Either way, you ARE going to experience the whole smorgasbord of emotions - joy, pain, loss, terror, sadness, happiness, despair, love, hatred etc etc. In life, there is NO escape.

Life IS an Occurrence. You are here. You have Occurred. Accept it or Resent it, and remember, breathing is optional - no one is forcing you to breathe.

To many, life IS anticlimactic - they want thunderbolts to shoot forth from their fingertips. They want to be a World Leader. They want to be the Third World's feeder. Then they awaken to discover a Drunken Old Bleeder, swirling around his Goldfish bowl of a life. "Where's the MAGIC?!!" they scream for help up to the Stars in the Sky and others scream to the 'stars' on television or in Cosmopolitan Magazine. They will scream in every direction but inward.
It takes a person to experience a whole lot of 'stupidity' usually, in order to even consider turning their eyes INWARD. It's always someone else's fault. Shit job, Shit Wife, Shit Life. It's never "shit attitude from me" or "shit perception from me of what Life is REALLY about." It's always someone else's fault until at last all veils had been removed, and that concept is revealed that YOU have screwed your life up. YOU applied for that "shit job". YOU asked that "shit wife" to marry you. YOU have created YOURSELF what you term as that "shit life".

"If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you."
(The Gospel of Thomas - The Nag Hammadi Library)

Confusion or, "Blessed are the Cheesemakers"

Lack of Communication and layers of Character Armour are quite often the cause of relationship breakdowns.
I have experienced many confused readings of different situations in my life and if you're in any way Human, you will have misread words or behaviour in others incorrectly, many times also.
An everyday example being - Someone says something to you that you took as derogatory, when perhaps the other person intended his words as a joke - In this case you will never discover the actual truth unless you confront the person who made the 'hurtful' statement.
This knowledge could only be realised by challenging or questioning the initial 'problem' to remove all veils that cloud, obscure and confuse the fact that there maybe was NO problem there at all, or it was at least nowhere the magnitude of the one created by your imagination due to your own misconception of the situation.

“When we remember we are all mad, the mysteries disappear and life stands explained.” (Mark Twain)

Life is a Fact. Life is an Occurrence. Life is a Phenomena. I cannot escape it. I was asleep in a world of illusions created from the imaginations of other Humans until I awakened to my very own living, breathing Isolate Intelligence that has the Strength and Power to create a better world by accepting that He Himself is Lord over His own Manifestations.
I AM Designer. I can make my life as complicated or as uncomplicated as my Will chooses to do so and I would therefore deduce that the same options are open to you. It's time to take light the torches, and go deep into the caverns of the Great Beyond to face the Fires of Hell. It's time to look into the Self-Temple and see the murky mists and fog as nothing more than veils that when pulled aside, reveal cold, stone walls on which is inscribed timeless wisdom. The Universe is before you. All Runes and Keys are before you. They always were.
Do you not find that amusing?

Life is Synchronicity - As I'm typing this the song "Just" by the wonderful Radiohead has just begun to play in the background with the chorus "You do it to Yourself, you do and that's what really hurts. You do it to Yourself, you do - you and no-one else..." ... they must've known I was coming.

"The world is like a ride in an amusement park. And when you choose to go on it, you think it's real because that's how powerful our minds are. And the ride goes up and down and round and round. It has thrills and chills and it's very brightly coloured and it's very loud and it's fun, for a while. Some people have been on the ride for a long time and they begin to question, is this real, or is this just a ride? And other people have remembered, and they come back to us, they say, "hey - don't worry, don't be afraid, ever, because, this is just a ride..."
(Bill Hicks)

"There's No-Thing can stop you when The Black Flame is burning in your soul..."

By Might may It Be.

Stone should be so Loki

2006-12-19T12:38:00.001Z

Ex-Loyalist Paramilitary and convicted multiple-murderer Michael Stone's planned incursion on a crucial meeting of Northern Ireland politicians when he burst into Stormont Parliament Buildings claiming to have a bomb, was "performance art" he claimed...

His actions by the use of 'artifice' DO indeed show the futility of politically motivated violence, whether he is speaking the truth or trying to worm his way out of a heavier jail sentence. His actions show that it really IS time for the people of Ireland to awaken from their sleep.
Michael Stone is a living manifestation of Northern Ireland's infantile religious and political indifference. We have only ourselves to blame. Without the incestuous bigotry which has plagued Ireland for centuries there would be no Michael Stones, no IRA, no UDA, no UVF, no Ian Paisleys, no Enniskillen bombing, no Omaghs. And what is at the heart of it all? Christi-fucking-anity, although come to think of it, the Pre-Christian population were pretty good at slaughtering each other too.

Loki, the mythical being of mischief would be proud of Michael Stone's actions. Let's hope that Michael Stone's 'performance art' stunt will embarrass the people of Northern Ireland to the point that they begin to turn their eyes inward and have a look at themselves and their own attitudes rather than the usual finger pointing at "the other side". Wake up you Fools...

And we think we know "The Truth"...

2006-11-09T21:36:00.000Z

"To assert that the earth revolves around the sun is as erroneous as to claim that Jesus was not born of a virgin." - Cardinal Bellarmine (1615, at the trial of Galileo)

The First Witch-Hunt?

2006-09-30T21:51:00.006+01:00

Hypatia (c. 370 - 415) was a mathematician, astronomer, and Platonic philosopher.
According to the Byzantine encyclopedia The Suda, her father Theon was the last head of the Museum at Alexandria. Hypatia's prominence was accentuated by the fact that she was both female and pagan in an increasingly Christian environment. Shortly before her death, Cyril was made the Christian bishop of Alexandria, and a conflict arose between Cyril and the prefect Orestes. Orestes was disliked by some Christians and was a friend of Hypatia, and rumors started that Hypatia was to blame for the conflict.

In the spring of 415 C.E., the situation reached a tragic conclusion when a band of Christian monks seized Hypatia on the street, beat her, and dragged her body to a church where they mutilated her flesh and burnt her remains.

Lovely people.

Carving out Knowledge

2006-09-10T20:21:00.001+01:00

Rune Making, 10th September 2006 Belfast, Ireland

Diving in...

2006-09-08T00:45:00.000+01:00

When you dive into The Darkness, you will see things that will terrify you. It's not pretty to see your Self in the most twisted, gnarled, grotesque forms. Rather than the seemingly easy option of running from or ignoring your darker aspects, acceptance of their existence will ultimately make you a stronger, more controlled being. This latter option demands bravery and strength from you.

Have you ever truly looked at yourself? Have you considered that when you get angry at others you are usually identifying weakness within your Self, or when you feel contempt towards other people it is usually a facade disguising an inner loathing of certain traits that exist within YOU? What you regard as the appalling behaviour of others is reminding you of the 'shame' you feel when you show those exact same characteristics. You are simply projecting that contempt of YOUR Self onto the outside world. To see this requires honesty. To ignore it requires cowardice.
Self-analysis hurts. The truth about yourself hurts but nevertheless it IS the truth. When The Devil appears in all His Glory, you will cower and tremble like the child you are. Accept The Darkness and make progress, or bury your head and remain in utter terror of your demons.

So the next time you go Diving In and call someone else a "wanker", have a think about it...

Naked

2006-09-07T01:35:00.002+01:00

Naked, 7th September 2006 Belfast, Ireland

Watching a Full Moon

2006-09-07T00:21:00.002+01:00

Photo taken at Midnight, 7th September 2006 Belfast, Ireland

The Osamas

2006-09-06T23:14:00.002+01:00

Smooth Osama

Poor Peasant Obama

Fat Jolly Osama