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.

A comfortable Universe

As it is true that our atoms were once part of galactic debris and fiery and icy wonder, it is true that we are from the stars, for how could we not be?

When the problems of the world overwhelm you, you could think of a nut, or you could just think of the galaxies, and operate on a logic that has the multiverse and what it is at the central focus of humanity. Sure you say, someone can say that, but are they living in the real world?
Well why not?

It is amazing the level of distraction leveled at us now by the media machine. The indoctrination, of war, profit, and power. From sport, to movies, to video games, and all fictional media as well directed at all ages, from your very youth and the rest of your life. 'Culture'.

Of course, one can not be too much of a 'downer', these days, it became 'unfashionable'
a way back, people don't want to talk about the strangeness in terms of insanity of this world we live in. So you have to have a bit of a laugh about it and then think about something else.

What about the Battle of Midway, fought across the horizon. Bit excessive really wasn't it? Madness and death. History and especially the history of the last one hundred years is not meant to be talked about anymore. And it is instead presented in a strange manner through the media.

You struggle on though don't you, never quite fooled, doggedly determined to do something, though sometimes you forget what. I do anyway, there are people that you are attached to and those also you admire. Those people you love.
The function of social groupings, the very fabric of the ideals of human existence, is still not nearly as developed as it should be, the ability to communicate.

Our philosophy dwindles at the pens of many who argue about which human ideological pursuit is the greatest. Somehow things like sport and fighting are always highly prized. Keep em bayin for blood. Competitive violent.

Then of course you remember that it would be a good option to learn even a small bit about astronomy and phiosophy, just for the reason that when you meet with those you love you are able to converse freely on things that stimulate your thought and theirs, learning from each other and teaching. Education so horribly neglected in favour of war.

I did remember this though, as I thought on this, that this is a comfortable world in a comfortable universe.

The earth and its human inhabitants situation is far too complicated through savage nationalism and old world prejudice to be clearly directed en masse. The people ne masse of course controlling the direction. It is almost a fantasy, then again, some form of it could eventuate. In some wonderful far off future where everything is alright.

The one that many no longer believe in.

Wind, Wellington, Aotearoa and the Cosmos

Thoughts buffeting the mind like winds in the trees on Mt Victoria.

Picture in your mind Wellington's wild winding packets of air whirling about across the trees in shapes that can be made out from hundreds of metres away by the naked eye.

The leaves revealing a white grey underside to the light, for the sole reason that the motion of the universe caused them to move.

Thoughts, moving at speed,are much the same and can quickly unravel assembled notion, causing a sudden burst of question, that causes rapid disintegration of logically compiled areas of reason and belief. Like the way the wind bursts across Mt Victoria, scattering natural debris before it, energizing and depleting those things that happen to be in its path. Within the chaotic yet synchronised continuous revolution that is this universe, all such natural movement is reasonably created to a certain degree by patterns in the flow of atoms.

Thoughts of an island home, twin outposts inhabited by sane wanderers, who feel at home everywhere, but still often think of the shores of Aotearoa as a place where true rest can be found. The brazen logic and sanity of NZ is something I often miss, humor so dry that even Aussies occasionally miss it.

The future presents itself every moment, seeming to beckon us to action, whatever it is we consider action to be. There is such a beautiful insanity to the universe on a larger scale, an insanity that exists in our misunderstanding of the universe, and our continued efforts at reasoning as to what it could be.

Back to those winds though, surging through the valleys and oceanic passages that surround the city named for the man who defeated Napoleon. A special city, a truly magical spot, imbued with a lurking presence of chaos in its tremulous underbelly, the people and the fault line.
This magnificent planet, this mind boggling universe, they await us, every time we wake, with questions and answers so numerous we could never take them all on.

Let us dance the dance of beatific wonder, when we can allow ourselves to do so, so that we may again appreciate the magnificent unknown, and the great puzzlement this encourages in us. We must never rest, for we have given ourselves clues into understanding through dogged determination to make sense. There is no harm in continuing to attempt explanation of everything. The future does not hang in a balance, it rests in possibilty, for us to whirl toward, on a planet that travels through space, anchored to nothing, taking humanity on the greatest journey ever witnessed. Enjoy it while you can, and help others when you are able. We have a responsibility to foster the cause of humanity with everything we can.

The wind is a way by which we see the miracle of the universe in motion, its effect is to move us to motion and thought, it causes an emotional response, as well as a pragmatic one, its cause lies in far off galaxies, but then those galaxies are equally as affected by that which occurs around us. Relativity, movement, the flow of the cosmos. See it, realize it, and be it.

Dainty dumplings dangling in doorways

Too many questions, topography is one.

'Where is my damnable topography map for the sake of Jupiter and Mars!'

Grandiose explanations for lackadaisical happenings.

Embroidered stories, to stop the horror.

What was that I said the other day? Am I crazy? Is everyone I see every day crazy? Acting sane we are. Are we playing the part well enough? Is the reason we admire good actors because they are the best at that which all of humanity do everyday? Yes.

Direction is the really crazy one, the real life directors, away from films, those who direct others in everyday life, for they are after all what gives the 'film director' their title. Ability to direct, or compulsion to direct, to compel others to do. These things denote a type of craziness that goes far beyond that of the average person trying to conceal their real self.It can be quite lovely, everyone, everything, is intriguing. Where would we be without directors? They are brilliant, as are all those people and things that can move you emotionally. We are carbon based life forms after all. Shine on you crazy diamond.

Theatre of imaginings. Totem.

The brain. The mind, the psyche.

Twisted conundrums, wasted illusory peace. Sweet rest.

Awakened panic, slow, deliberate reality sliding in from somewhere, yes, I am alright.
That sun/rain feels delightful on my brow, how sweet it is to lie beneath this canopy of galaxies.

Serendipitous meetings encouraged by academic or economic yearnings.

Crouch low when you strike a high strength ultra meshed steel fence rusted at the bottom in the courtyard of the high security wing. I did so once many years ago to escape from a so-called 'high' security psychiatric facility, and the elation that accompanied it was quite exquisite, there was literally no other way out of that particular ward. Most efforts at escape were on visits to the 'open-side' or when I was moved there. Plus whenever I made escapes I was still 'crazy', not quite under the yolk of the psych drugs just yet.

Looking out at the world from in there.

I said to myself 'They are the ones who are crazy'. Lunatics, moon moved, everyone of us, bodies of water, tidal emotions...

Some of the safest moments of my life were in those crazy walls. But also some of the bleakest. Enriching it was.

To some I would recommend it. Though of course, it is rather odd.