Sunday, 7 August 2022

But not for want of death


I forge a path along the sandstone void,

bound for Eagle Gorge,

hidden from the would-be scowls of the ranger,

hidden from the office matriarch

that tucks us in

to suffocation,

claiming the little space still left. 


One misstep 

means savage end


and yet


I'm drawn in

like asteroids hurtling by mad pulls

to mad fates

- I want that sea to have me,

to take me under its murderous rage,

to break my neck against the


of its underworld.


But not for want of death.

Instead, for want of life which,

in turn,

draws me back from the gorgeous brutality.


In 1629,

long before arrival out east,

way out here - out west -

a couple of mutineers

stood marooned.

They the original Euros to Oz

- out of horror though, not choice;

doomed men of the Batavia. 

Centuries on,

I watch the sea


into land

with such a wild, brutal, ancient viciousness

that I sense

it itself lays down its history

without mercy,

without a hint of compromise.

Tuesday, 21 June 2022

Goodbye, young Adelaide


Goodbye, young Adelaide,

cradle of the youth

of my psychosis. 


You're unable to come on the subsequent journey. 

I renounce you, Adelaide.

In love.

Don't be offended.

I renounce myself as well.

We stand upon a mighty riverbank

but here I cross.

I have some room for cherished friendships,

for mother,

for father somehow.

Yet that is all.

Here we bid farewell. 

Those parties and dinners and gossip,

that thirst for the women and the drink and some

centre of some stage:

I just can't dance those dances anymore. 

They're all so tiresome

and growing tragic.

What life? Where?

I've loved you, Adelaide,

but I'm on my way to kill the thing within. 

Perhaps one can't succeed. 

Many have tried

and I get that this is nothing new.

But knowing I'll fail

is not so crucial 

as knowing I'm trying.

I'm fifty days without ejaculation.

I'm renouncing women

on the fly.

It's all a part of it.

Do you understand, young Adelaide?

You just can't join me now.

I can't extrapolate further.

I'd only be lying

and I'm ignorant of the rest of the story


Do you know the power

in hearing the sex

of the woman camped adjacent

and simply letting your member stand

ignored by stoic hands?

Stirring once,

plugging your ears

and letting your member fall,

do you know the power of turning from Satan?

Do you understand, young Adelaide?

I'm going crazy on purpose.

You'd only get in the way.

I rest in my tent by Argyle,

hearing the freak show.

They talk of beautiful views

and available work.

I understand it less and less.

I only wish to go to the waters.

I only wish to be baptized again

and again. 

Does God exist?

Does it matter?

Look, goodbye young Adelaide.

I'm already on the other side

in any case. 

Tuesday, 14 June 2022



Ages end and Empires fall.

Yet it's our own we imagine

might last forever.

It's the thing that stays in place

that the storm within us

assumes might end:

the world as a whole.

From the Book of Revelation

to the mantra of Climate Change

the hyper heart

just about

begs the world to blow.

It won't.

There's really not that much to save

except the heart itself.

Monday, 23 May 2022



Roll on wetlands;

roll on Burke

and roll on Wills

—needles in shapes of sites and statues

and info centres

pumping you with life-blood still;


roll on sunsets over oceans

—my first since Adelaide.


I planned on heading south

but the road is largely westward.

The Mormons knew it. The cowboys knew it.

McCandless knew it.

He died, but don’t we all?

In many ways

we live forever.


Throw a dart to the right of Katherine,

the left of Cooktown,

aiming low.

There’s Karumba and sunset over ocean

and miles from Ravenshoe and minutes to spare  

between the setting up of camp and the jog to the point.


Until tomorrow, Helios,

sinking beneath the sea at Henley Beach

and the Gulf

of Carpentaria all at once.


Opposite ends of Oz

and opposite ends of my life

together for a few

exquisite minutes.

Wednesday, 18 May 2022

What of the soul?


What of the memories?

They're photos to others

but shots of my soul

to me.

Often I feel I left it there

and there.

But it's never mine to lose.

By grace, I've been but 



to my soul

as I've been bumbling through.

Sunday, 15 May 2022

Western culture's relationship with Western mainstream media - an essay

I think we can all understand that none of us can be sure about anything at all, at the heart of it. So the default position should be, if any is taken at all, skepticism. About everything.

We should be especially skeptical of mainstream political and cultural views because they are especially vulnerable to falling into a kind of trance-like mass formation. All of us are prone to just fall in line whilst at the same time grab onto the easiest thing that gives our life meaning.

This can be seen in Western culture's relationship with Western mainstream media. I could be completely wrong, however I can imagine that in many other parts of the world, a greater majority of people would understand that their mainstream media is essentially propaganda. On all sides. Whether they agree with the regime and its media mouthpiece or they don't, each side would basically understand the compromised nature of mainstream media. I reckon so anyway.

However, tragically enough, amongst so much of Western society we believe that mainstream media is independent of the administration beneath which it operates.

Even if there was a remote possibility that this is true, then all that could be said is that Western mainstream media instead directs the regime (a Curtis Yarvin idea). In any case, this would at least make its constituent parts completely non-independent of thought as they instead viciously push ideology, as they obviously do.

It's probably even more accurate to suggest that mainstream Western politics and mainstream Western media sit and eat at the same metaphorical table, where everyone is equally set on trying to get a piece of the pie or at least maintain their seat. Here, you'll also find the financial players, the defence industry as well as academia. That's not to say it's all some sort of masterminded organised get-together. Perhaps it is, although I have my doubts. No, it simply operates in a loose kind of rhythm where everyone unconsciously plays their part and contributes to a loosely organized way of things. That's the story of history and the story of the way in which human beings generally organise themselves everywhere and anywhere.

And it's how the so-called 'intellectual' class in the West is so drastically out of touch with reality and seems to drone along without any real pioneering thought. By the time I had completed my Masters degree and had been bashed over the head with all the cultural Marxism you can think of, it was clear to me that we are at the regressive stage of our Empire. If anyone is thinking of going to university to study the humanities, then in my opinion absolutely do not. I would caution against social sciences too. My thoughts are that these are indoctrination grounds that unfortunately also afflict the next group of teachers coming through that then pile the cultural Marxism on their students in primary and secondary school. Love to all my teacher friends. I obviously speak in general terms. The pressure on teachers to follow a certain program, at least outside of home-schooling - which I totally recommend - is off the charts anyhow.

Instead of going to university, do a trade or at least keep to engineering, and in the meantime build parallel economy, parallel community and parallel culture.

Meanwhile, regime branches such as what I believe to be dying academia will continue to be reflected in the toxicity of the monotonous machine-like western mainstream media, which will over and over again hold the exact same views across the board. This is apparent in the media's one-directional Marxist push with regards to the culture wars, in the lockstep coverage on lockdowns and vaccine mandates, and in the tone-deaf and one-dimensional take on the Russia-Ukraine conflict. The latter is actually incredibly complicated and layered. It's better summarised as a continuation on the Ukrainian front of the Washington-Russia conflict.

The 2020 U.S. election forced me to question if there is election integrity in the west, as the election seems to have been so obviously rigged. If you haven't yet, watch Dinesh D'Souza's recent '2000 Mules' documentary c/o the Rumble video-sharing platform. However, in general, with the way in which much of the Western eye seems to put an almost theological and religious gaze on its mainstream media, many elections would never even need to be rigged for this ridiculous and preposterous regime to continue to chug along anyhow. Sad enough.

Best to remain skeptical then. Of everything. Including of what you read here. And never ever ever believe a word of the propaganda.

Much love from a rooftop tent up in Northern Australia!

Tuesday, 10 May 2022

Not much has changed - an essay on the course of history

Things change so radically and yet they remain totally the same. All of us are doing our best. Just humans doing our best. However it's worth remembering that the priestly class of the Middle Ages, along with its subjects, thought they were oh so much more intelligent than those Pagan simpletons that came before. It's worth remembering the Pagans themselves would have laughed at those that came before them, too. And now of course the oligarchs that run our world, along with their own subjects, laugh at all such apparently silly and backwards people of yesterday.

Unfortunately then, each generation including our own is doomed to repeat the same mistakes as have always been made because, understandably so, they seem to find it difficult to escape their pride and identify their own bullshit. Each new empire, instead, heralds in the new dawn. Each new age with its new ideas. But the contemptible hubris exposes the weak underbelly.

Our society is simply no different to those that came before. No worse perhaps, but certainly no better. Docility continues to offload responsibility to centralised power structures whose sole claim to apparently justifiable power is that they, eg., have a monopoly on access to 'the science' (whatever the hell that means). This all follows the same all-too-human pattern as when the priestly class of the Middle Ages had a monopoly on access to God (again, whatever the hell that means).

Of course, nothing and nobody has a monopoly on access to truth. Myself included. It seems a righteous system - if one existed - might recognise the naturally fallen state of humanity, each person being capable of doing wrong. It might recognise that power is thus necessarily dispersed over the widest possible surface area. It might recognise that centralising power - in the way we do and the way we have - never provides a monopoly on access to truth but only amplifies evil. Contemporarily, we see this with the tyranny of injection mandates and their widespread moral and social costs, but really this is just one example. Another is reflected in the Marxist push within the culture wars; another in the destructive propaganda we are force fed and beholden to when it comes to the conflict in the Ukraine.

We gotta enjoy the ride when and where we can though. It's even kinda funny sometimes. At least when you can look at it all objectively, even if only for moments at a time.

I mean like, you know, whatever.