7 Billion Skies

July 2018

There are 7 billion skies
Seen through 14 billion eyes
Weeping countless billion tears.
From dark to dark,
Flying through the room of light,
Tumbling in a curdle of stars,
Lost in the cascade of spacetime
In an endless fall.
To what purpose is one bird?
Do not speak about poetry,
Let poetry speak:
Whisper like a passing snake,
Snag like brambles,
Trip like a shoe lace.
The stars that light the sky
Do not light the earth
Casting no shadows
Before us
As we walk forever west.

SPACE 1#

don.jpg

Listening to Bjork’s ‘Utopia’ and Stonefield’s ‘Far from Earth’. Both latest Albums.

Reading – The Botany of Desire by Michael Pollan, The Original Folk and FairyTales of the Brothers Grimm and The Elegance of the Hedgehog by Muriel Barbery. i am also working my way through the works of Cordwainer Smith.

Watching – Many Environmental Doco’s in prep for upcoming film festival.

Having decided to have as little as possible to do with Facebook and its stable mates I have realized I am missing out in regular/irregular talktime with a bunch of people whose company I miss.

I planned, and it still sits sulking on the backburner, to create a custom private social media site. It is time-consuming process and I have yet to find that time. So I am dusting off my much neglected Blog to see if it will reestablish some contact with you people out there.

Since I gave Facebook the flying A my life has continued in its normal breakneck speed. I have made attempts to divest but activity is like water – it seeps in anywhere it can find a space.

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On the home front Patric bailed out of Swinburne. he got to far behind and couldn’t catch up. His much broken schooling left him little prepared for the relentless pressure of contemporary tertiary course loads. He has deferred and is working on building a game that he hopes to release and is also concentrating on his writing.

Taliesin is going back to Swinburne on Wednesday to have another go at semester two of his course that he failed last year. We will see what happens.

The plans for the two to share an on campus flat have come to nothing and Tali is moving into the room that Patric has vacated. Max is taking her mother back home and delivering Tali to Swinburne on Wednesday. I wish him luck and hope that he has got the hang of the course expectations and will get through OK. He is going with some trepidation. This is the most alone he will have been in his life. Patric and he are very close and Tali is relentlessly organized by Patric, both will miss each other.

We have a friend of the boys staying with us at the moment and having three large young men obsessed with computer games around the place presents its challenges. The campaign at the moment is to try to instil the, apparently, very difficult concept that communal tasks need to be done based on personal initiative not on authoritarian demands from yours truly. Nagging people repeatedly to do things is aggravating, tiring and depressing.

Current projects include aggregating my writings into one spot so I can see what I have. they are scattered in various folders and apps over the cloud. I am finally attempting to get some of my work published and need to spend some time preparing for that end. I am very surprised at the amount of poetry I have found. I am also pleasantly surprised at the quality. I wrote virtually no poetry in the 90’s and early part of this M but have been quite prolific in the past ten years or so. My short stories take a long time to write. I have two on the go at the moment that have been grinding along for two years or so. I have written other things in between.

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I have been entering the odd thing into galleries lately, mostly built around Barbie Dolls with agiprop intentions. I have two on the go for an upcoming exhibition themed around text in art.

On the Facebook/Snapchat schtick – one of the major casualties of my rejections of these ethically and morally bankrupt organizations has been my almost total lack of contact with finc. I regret this enormously. Being hundreds of kilometers away from the epicenter of the activity and fincs almost exclusive use of FB etc as the communications channel leaves me rather out of things. I myslef have not made much in the way of effort to keep up either which is personally frustrating and shameful. Hopefully i can remedy that.

Much the same can be said for regional environmental activism.

The ubiquity of FB/SC is causing the aggregation of activity to one carrier (both sites are owned by one entity) and also sharply defines the nature and potential power of the activity.

The modern iterations of ‘convenience’ are almost always bad for your health, terrible for the environment, socially destructive and relatively trivial. This is, of course, not the case for the invention of machines like vacuum cleaners and washing machines which have freed up people from the time-consuming and arduous aspects of domestic labour. However the fact that people have mostly chosen to use the time subsequently freed to watch TV, imbibe drugs and scroll FB leaves one with food for thought. As is also the rising amount of data that suggests that the more people have the where-with-all to afford and deploy the plethora of life convenient options the less happy they consider themselves to be.

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I continue to support touring bands performances within the community and along with local events take advantage of the opportunity to use it to raise funds to support the local school music program and other community-arts related activities. We recently had Totally Gourdgeous here for a performance. They performed on a Monday which is probably the most dubious performance night in the week and I was stoked when we had a full-house. The quartette is of course excellent and they have performed here separately and collectively in many permutations over the years. Some can trace their local history back to the eighties.

Coming up is a performance from Mathew Fagan and the 50th anniversary gig from The New York Public Library.

frogz

Over the last few years I have been organizing an ongoing mural project. So far we have a created a backdrop for our outdoor stage at The Muddie, a series of panels on ocean plastic polution, a 40year anniversary mural for the kindergarten called ‘Frogz’ and are currently working on a major repainting of the outside of The Music House at the school.

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The antics of the dogs provide endless delight and exasperation. Very much a Laurel and Hardy team in reverse with the big one an ingenuous clown and the smaller an irascible grump disguised as a cute looking fluff ball. The imperial Minerva – the yang cat (all black but for a tiny dot of white) leads a separate existence in the shed with the boys and only makes royal visits when a rodent is foolish enough to stick its nose into the house. Minerva is not allowed out in the wide world, of course, and has a large caged area as her outdoor compound.

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eccles

This is getting very long.

Hello outthere to all my friends. Living so far away from everywhere else has mixed outcomes. Having lived about equal time in the centre of Melbourne and fairly rural/remote: I miss the former but would not exchange it for the latter. There is a richness in community that far outweighs the cultural distractions of city living. One thing is certain and that is I do miss you people. Rich conversation is a rare thing in small communities., there is also a smaller catchment from which to draw people with meshable attitdes and preoccupations.

Anyway hope you enjoy my ramblings and maybe find the time to respond however briefly. My intention is to make this a regualr thing but we all know about The Road to Hell!

Lux Invicta

Don A.

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End Notes take 2

Eurydice Dixon June 2018

There: at the beginning of the end,
we thought we had invented sex.
Our parents,
fumbling
in their fetid dark embarrassments,
cast long shadows on land
Puckered with the scars and scabs
Of bomb and bullet,
Had nothing to say to us.
Lest we remember.
Baby booming –
The click-track of the Geiger counter
Was not the beat for us.
In beads and feathers, banded with braid
We made up new dances,
pin wheeling with limbs of light
through the smokes of dreams.
The four piece band in the corner
Strummed ladders to the sky.
Embedded urgent tyrannies,
Gaudily repainted,
garlanded the old dispensations.
A new shine on the old crimes –
Repression, possesion, disparagement and the
Selfish thrusts of the wagging pizzle.
There was some sort of joy
Under ragged blankets,
Though the love was not free.
Women still paid the long old debt –
the children that came,
The affirmations and love songs
Left to blow down the road,
The abandoned luggage.
Nobody asked Alice.
New songs echoed from old barrels
As the tunesmiths took the money,
Parleyed it for all that glitters
And rotted out the earth and sky.
Lives that strives and burgeons
are beads on a wire.
When all that breathes
Becomes things:
We sour like the dumpster
Of a derelict’s dreams.
Thin hands that thought to play the lute
Tear with thickening fingers
at the crusts of our daily bread,
Leaving crumbs and ashes.
Reclining on a tourist terrace, gin drunk,
funded by the superannuated
Investment in a million bullets
And the burning of a million forests.
Oh my children,
to have been gifted with this!
So lost now. So lost.
Limed with the light of myriad flickering screens,
Days spent in pointless posturing,
With a bucket full of lists to tick
In a con-trailed frenzy,
Leaving the quivering shreds
Of a browned, curled dry waste
where once tall trees waved.
Yarrow stalks are scattered
In the hot winds of
the burning of the brain.
Oh my children,
what have we done to you?
Stalked in the afterdark park by Death
In a drugged-raging travesty of the act of love.
Bought and sold by sweaty
Men in suits for the privilege
To scramble in the gutter
For their loose change.
Broken by blasted bricks
In the suburbs of some proxy war.
Floundering up the beaches
Of an unwelcoming shore.
Turned back from the gates
Out of which shines the last
Of the light of the darkening world.
Cellared in a godfull stink of hate.
Strapped with bombs
emerging to murder street market,
Mosque or kindergarten.
Oh my children,
With what have you been left?
Shun each other?
Flinch from smiles and hands?
Will your lonely children
Nurture the last flowers
In armored hermitages
In distant valleys?
Hand feed the last fish
In the last plastics free pond?
Watch the last lion die of old age?
Each alone for fear of the other.
Which one of your lonely children
will be the last to see the last star
Through the last gap in a shrouded sky.
What will be your excuse
When The Red King finally ‘wakes,
At the end of the end?

END NOTES

Eurydice Dixon June 2018.

There: at the beginning of the end,
we thought we had invented sex.
Our parents fumbling
in their fetid dark embarrassments
cast long shadows on land
Puckered with scars and scabs
from bomb and bullet,
Had nothing to say to us.
Lest we remember.
Baby booming –
The click-track of the Geiger counter
Was not the beat for us.
In beads and feathers, banded with braid
We made up new dances,
pin wheeling with limbs of light
through the smokes of dreams.
The four piece band in the corner
Strumming ladders to the sky.
Embedded urgent tyrannies,
Gaudily repainted,
garlanded the old dispensations.
Put a new shine on the old crimes –
Repression, possesion, disparagement and the
Selfish thrusts of the wagging pizzle.
There was some sort of joy
Under ragged blankets.
Though the love was not free.
Women still paid the long old debt –
the children that came,
The affirmations and love songs
Left to blow down the road,
The abandoned luggage.
New songs echoed from old barrels
As the tunesmiths took the money,
Parleyed it for all that glitters
And rotted out the earth and sky.
Life that strives and burgeons
became a Thing to sell.
Thin hands that thought to play the lute
Looted febrile fancies with thickening fingers
Tearing at the crusts of our daily bread,
Till all that was left was crumbs and ashes.
Reclining on a tourist terrace, gin drunk,
funded by the superannuated
Investment in a million bullets
And the burning of a million forests.
Oh my children,
to have been gifted with this!
So lost now. So lost.
Limed with the light of myriad flickering screens,
Days lost in pointless posturing,
With a bucket full of lists to tick
In a con-trailed frenzy
that leaves quivering shreds
Of flesh where once tall trees wagged
By winds that were not tortured
By the burning of the brain.
Oh my children,
what have we done to you?
Stalked in the afterdark park by death
In a drugged-raging travesty of the act of love.
Bought and sold by sweaty
Men in suits for the privilege
To scramble in the gutter
For their loose change.
Broken by blasted bricks
In the suburbs of some proxy war.
Floundering up the beaches
Of an unwelcoming shore.
Turned back from the gates
Out of which shines the last
Of the light of the darkening world.
Cellared in a godfull stink of hate.
Strapped with bombs
emerging to murder street market,
Mosque or kindergarten.
Oh my children,
With what have you been left?
Shun each other?
Flinch from smiles and hands?
Will your lonely children
Nurture the last flowers
In armored hermitages
In distant valleys?
Hand feed the last fish
In the last plastics free pond?
Watch the last lion die of old age?
Each alone for fear of the other.
Which one of your children
will be the last to see the last star
Through the last gap in a shrouded sky
At the end of the end?

Bega

Lat – 36°40′S

Lon – 149°50′E

Sounds – Airplane

Reading – Lord Dunseny
Audio – LOTR
Ebook – Nova – Delany
Realbook – Creatures if Light and Darkness – Zelazny

Fretting About –

Celebrating – Patric safely set up at Swinburne

Feeling Good About – The rain

Exasperated By – Waiting for car to be fixed.

Here we are in wet and windy Bega. Sitting for three + hours waiting for Max’s car to be fixed. Ran into a couple from Coota whose names escapes me. Nice lady from The Gallery.

How to Save Australia

January 7. 7.15 am

Lat -37.56678

Lon  149.75536


Sounds  – None


Reading – The Guardian

Audio – The Prague Cemetery 

Realbook – Everything is Under Control 
Ebook – The Instrumentality on Mankind


Fretting About – Being a jerk 

Celebrating – Taliesin’s 21st Birthday

Feeling Good About – Having dogs.

Exasperated By – Trying to communicate with people who don’t listen.


SAVING AUSTRALIA

Its very simple. No one would do it. Human minds are fatally inflexible.

Most jobs are being done by people who we don’t know or ever interact. Compared to the population of Australia the number of people who directly effect our lives is very small. In manufacturing most things we buy end up in landfill in less than 12 months. The delivery of services is ephemeral. The delivery of goods and services are very taxing on the environment because Austraalia is hopelessly over-populated.


We need to create a new economics. Create a shadow database of the population of Australia. Give each a typical but fictional life story.  Assign the kids to fictional but typical schools, the adults to jobs. Make the jobs reflect a self sustaining economy. In other words create a computer simulation of Australian economic society. Pay the workers wages, charge them for services, let them pay tax. Let them create virtual things, provide virtual services.

Use the tax garnered to maintain the simulation, use the wages of the virtual workers to pay for the social and other government services and costs. Use their superannuation contributions to supply the real Australia with environmental projects to restore the environment and supply environmentally neutral outputs.

Real Australians would have to work minimum hours and pay little or no tax. Australians would only have to work sufficiently to supply food, goods and services at sustainable levels. The corporates could ‘work’ the virtual economy where their insane practises and corruption would be largely harmless. The real economy could focus on mire efficient and sustsinable smalk scale farming and manufacture. The whoke population could decentralize with the financial support of the virtual economy.

Simple really.




So this is 2018

January 2 2018 6.00pm

Lat -37.56678

Lon  149.75536

Sounds  – Beethoven’s Late Quartettes

Reading – 

  1. Audible – The Prague Cemetery.  Eco
  2. Ebook – The Instrumentality of Mankind. Smith
  3. Realbook – At The Existentialist Cafe. Bakewell

Fretting About – How to make Tali’s 21st Specialish. Tali has only a couple of friends and all he cares about is the digital world and his cat.

 I just thought of it – intensive cello lessons.

Celebrating – Finding the conflict in the latest Petunia Story.

Feeling Good About – Rain.

Exasperated By – Arrogant incompetence.  The Lion’s Club replaced me at the market with 6 people and are managing to do about half the job. Should I step in?

FORGET DIALECTICS

There are three existential positions –

  • STINKERS – Sociopathic evil bastards who are amorally concerned only with themselves. There own desires and self-esteem are their entire universe. Prone to conspiracy theories.  Narcisists.
  • BLINKERS – Can’t see past their own short term comfort and convenience. Self gratification high on the personal agenda. Prone to reacting to false positives, want to fit in. Reactionary rather than proactive. No moral or ethical foundations. Inclined to believe rather than know. Prone to popular fallacies like alternative medicine and political parties.
  • THINKERS – Try to be evidence based. Question assumptions behind actions and ideas. Pursue the notion of a civil society. Contingent thinkers.

WHY I HAVE GIVEN UP FACEBOOK and maybe you should as well.

I used to be an enthusiatic proselytizing fan of FB.  I thought it was a great communicating tool and excellent disperser of community information.

Why have I changed my mind?

It seems to me that on almost every level apps like FB and Twitter are serving the interests of the ungodly to a far greater extent than they are functioning in a positive manner for personal and community benefit. FB now owns most of the major social media platforms.

The applied uses of data mining by the manipulative and the corrupt come to light everyday. The careless and ill-informed uses by the general punter are self evident and manifold. Its uses to boost the interests of consumerism to the disadvantage of the ecology, economy and human well-being inflict growing damage every day.

The promotion of the notion that complex problems and issues can be solved or explained  in brief off the cuff verbal splats dumb down public discourse. Spontaneous facile venting promote the illusion of  an impotent ineffectual activism.

On a general level one has to be very aware that things that are convenient are almost always bad for your health, mind, ecology and or civil rights. I cite prepackaged and convenience foods, plastic fishing lures, airplanes, electronic disposables, televisions and (of course) FB and Twitter as prime examples

Enough reasons there to give up on the big platforms.

I do, however, believe that social media is a great idea and a good tool. Over the years FB has played a key role in coordinating some very important and worthwhile activities – (f)route and the local Shut the Gate actions come imeadiatly to mind.

I have also re hooked up with some old friends and made some new ones. No unsurprisingly communications have been most effective with people with whom I have history and association beyond the social media platform. Without background communication will he superficial and fraught with misunderstandings.

I am keen on digital social networks.

The best outcomes involving this tool is concentrating on getting a delivery of what you most want from the activity. Generally, I think, the core is the engagement of the specific and local, coupled with a high degree of security and control. You will not get this with any commercial platform because their aims are entirely the opposite ahd they exist to primarily sell you things and collect your data for their clients.

So I am keen to find a way to ‘network’ socially in an entirely bespoke manner.  I can’t seem to find software that will do this.  The difficulty is setting up a dedicated server. Way beyond my skills.  Anyway will keep looking.

The limitation and challenge will be overcoming the difficulties imposed by our disraceful, awful national internet.

Monday Jan 1, 2018

Monday Jan 1, 2018

Entry start 10.30

Lat -37.56678 

Lon  149.75536 
Sounds  – Eric Satie 
Reading – Sagaland. The Complete S. Stories of JG Ballard.

Significant acquisitions – New digital cameras for possible School Movie Project. Thanks Chris and Rachel.

The complete audio works of Jane Austen – for Max.


Mostly – Gardening

Coming Up – 

  • Nepal Stilt Project,
  • Recording Studio for Music House
  • MADDAM
  • FINISH outstanding stories
  • Word Buddy

Fretting About – OZ politics, US politics, Another year gone. Bourgeois shit. Millennials lack of community engagement.

Annoyed By – Garden neglect

Celebrating – Increased mobility after back collapse.

Factoid – The Mallacoota Lions Club have replaced me (after taking over Community Market Management) with about 6 people and achieving less than half of what I did….

Celebrating new year with gardening blitz after weeks of neglect.Comunity based projects have taken up all my time and energy and the garden has suffered.All my sweetcorn has been eaten by local wildlife. Lost a fair percentage of the raspberry  crop. All the paths are over grown and the vegetable patches need thinning. Need to start off lettuce and carrot seedlings.

Instituting new work practises. Going to vary my activities more to manage my back issues. Switching between hand work, writing and digital activity.

12.21

Sounds – Slava Grigoryian.

Logged off gardening until 3.00. To much UV.

Boyz are being v helpful in jungke clearances.

Being very aware ofbtge need to maximize the flowers in this process. The garden is rich with bees and they need to be supported.


CHRISTMAS

25 Dec 17 Monday – 5:52 

Lat -37.56678

Lon  149.75536

Sounds  – Tolkien Ensemble

Reading – Sagaland.

Fretting About – OZ politics, US politics, Another year egone. Bourgeois shit.

Celebrating – Lake Tyers Corroboree On The Water and surviving November and December.

WHY WE ARE DOOMED.

A sad sidelight on an other wise positive and inspiring time was a visit to the local general store and take away. Don’t get me wrong, they were lovely people – which is in many ways the crux of the problem.

I ordered a coffee and handed over my travel cup. The proprietor made the coffee in a take away cup, poured it into my travel cup and threw away the cup. There you have it. The end of the world. No hope.