between the lines

[img courtesy of http://www.flickr.com/photos/72249211@N00/. thnx.]

it's the matrix. any matrix will do. the matrix in your mind. the matrix in your lounge. the matrix in the bar. you're offered a metaphorical choice. do you take the red pill or the blue? which one do you take? and why oh why is life constantly reduced to duality which only offers two options. why not take none or all of the above... or scavenge up a whole lot of other color pills. or eat, i don't know, say, mushrooms instead?

it's amazing how many people around me & then further away take lots of drugs. chemicals are everywhere. i float on the periphery of a variety of sub-cultures so go figure. some take more than others. through the various social networks i infiltrate some are more stereotypically apparent than others. people mostly don't offer me anymore & they've finally stopped asking me what i'm on. usually nothing. sometimes i shut them up by selling 1gm bags of baking soda. it's better than most the shit they're snorting anyway. jk.

i don't really care about moderate or occasional drug use. informed choices, yes. like a born again christian i've been there. it would be hypocritical of me to position otherwise. why should it be just ok for me just because i fantasise that jimi hendrix & i belong on the same planet? sometimes i still like to experiment with things that come out of the ground. within reason. with respect.

what i find inherently dull is that people end up using just to maintain some sense of normalcy which in relative terms research has shown is a lot less happier/stable than non-users. stability schmability you say... drugs do not make anyone more interesting. only perhaps only to yourself. if life is so dull without them, maybe it's time to mix it up.

sure ignorance is bliss & we're all familiar with the status quo argument that surround a sheep with grass and it will mindfully eat it's way through a green field unaware of the wider surrounds which is arguably just a sea of endless repetitive fields. despite old school government reefer madness-like dressed-up scare mongering maybe there could be something in it? if faced with choices where do you find real information, real opinion, decent sources talking the shit you can as a self-aware cynic trust? first video response to reefer madness would have to be "grass", by ron mann.

a few weeks ago i found myself in an interview situation where a couple of sex workers were bagging out their drug supplier because the liquid ecstasy one of the women had previously ordered had been shammed so instead of only having her usual 5 mls she'd had the whole 15 and not been as smashed up as she should've so was then going to organise a "john" to make a surprise hit on the supplier in her workplace [city brothel] because she's a "dirty fucking crack whore". "how so", i asked? because "she would have used the money for an ice fix". most importantly this conversation could have occurred anywhere between anybody. an ad agency boardroom. a plumbing office. a music festival. drug hierarchy. now that's fucking hilarious.

this week a new experiment in youth comms hit the interwebs by way of between the lines, a web based incentive which offers realspeak forum & blogs covering the expanse of issues in the ubiquitous scene that we invariably & inevitably are a part of. all of us. the stuff that mainstream media will not cover. the good, the bad, the ugly. balanced dialogue. is it truly possible?

it's still early days yet but fresh off the boat it sits in infantile form waiting to seed organically from collective stories, wisdom. from you. from us. from all sides of the fence. without prejudice. without gloss. without dumbing down.

this is one topic that we need to cut through the BS on. because honey whether you collapsed your septum on 85% columbian coke off the cisterns at the ivy or on some badly cut base in the back of the cross you'll still look as bad as michael jackson the next day after. but maybe have a slightly different ride in between. how do you monitor that?

early december AWOL monk with punk monk propaganda will be working with between the lines in conjunction with the launch of FBi does drugs week further developing our "loves me not" mobile series which is an inverted narrative dealing with mental health. come party with us. i'll save you my best blend.

turning on minds

the unexamined life is not worth living – socrates

there can be no higher & intrinsic ideal than this sentiment uttered by socrates at his heresy trial when faced with death for his practise of philosophy questioning the status quo. the greatest pursuit in life is the quest for truth. it is worth dying for. the father of contemporary philosophy did just that despite/because of the magnitude of his public service of enlightenment.

director, astra taylor takes this 5^th century BC premise & applies it to a couple of handfuls of the cerebrally gifted: big thinkers taking on a myriad of macro to micro questions all interwoven into a metaphysical matmos related to the human condition on more than an existential plane. this is her new film: examined life.

philosophy for the people marches onto the streets out of the cloistered institutionalised academia which renders it inaccessible for many, giving it real-time practical application: it need not be an intangible outdated concept. free thinking is as current & as integral to fundamental societal principles now if not more so as in even socrates’ time. arguably the tools which can be used to control it, also serve to liberate and share. the democratisation of thought: if we have the courage to do so.

cultural relativism: a modern day ethos of responsibility of values/care given extra bent in light of the enormous amount of inhabitants this world now has. where does one draw the line? recently released sci fi film district 9 effectively raises this issue [review pending] & goes all interspecies/intergalactic which isn’t so fantastic in the responsible relativist debate.

in the question of being & the quest for personal identity & truth sometimes people get stuck before they even get to one, i.e. themselves. the places we run to, in order to shield us from ourselves & the politics of the money we used to hide with when surrounded by trash as treasure when the converse might be more fitting.

despite having an affinity with all the celebrated minds this documentary features as they move & shake with their own distinctive beat amongst their surrounds, i spent the duration of this film developing a major love affair with two of the celebrity celluloid identities during the many ebb & flows which occur throughout the film. being a long-term lover of the social sciences as a political science/philosophy major & a fledgling filmmaker, i was thoroughly engaged from start to finish but still felt the tempo unnecessarily waiver at times. in a perfect world i’d have liked to see welcome limelight thieves cornel west & avital ronell engage with one another before running off with their DNA & promptly popping out their babies like ping pong balls.

the reverence which astra justifiably has towards her brilliant studies also partially limits the equality in engagement as who can not help but be dwarfed by the lyrical conversational prowess of cornel west as he spits out intellectual rhetoric like a master jazzman casually touting a trumpet from the back of his new york drive as astra successfully manages to concentrate on the road. she drives him around the manhattan peak hour bottlenecks before cornel directs her to “just pull over here” as he waltzes out dancing to his own irrepressible beat engaging with all those in his wake. he personifies wakefulness.

the mind is undoubtedly the most erotic organ, and a powerhouse of uncontained chemicals once the right combination of buttons is pushed & wires are connected. this examined life may not be the opiate of the masses but it’s definitely my kind of porn. fellow anti-pornographer femme, andrea dworkin might just [posthumously] approve.

recently premiered in sydney at possible worlds canadian film festival. EP'd by the lovely ron mann.

[photos pilfered from the ever gracious interwebs]

blue mountains blown

last week i headed to the blue mountains on what was a tentative mushroom foraging/KINO filmmaking expedition with my two most favorite recent discoveries - canadian filmmakers: ron mann & darryl gold. we became friends while they were in town in fast furious film festival mode for possible worlds.

the best laid plans of mice and men were thrown out when we ended up dodging the consulate general and standing up tea & scones once we were halfway out of town.

like errant kids playing hooky we stole into the mountains on our slow hill-winding train & enjoyed a lazy day of food, hiking and conversation, where i inadvertantly almost violated my duty of care and killed them both [forcing a vertigo suffering ron, deep into the three sisters stair incline & feeding an allergic darryl nuts cleverly hidden in a flour-free cake]. it could have all ended so differently... *nervous smile*.

these few photos of our time in the blue mountains ironically enough are blown out blue because i'd somehow left my canon camera on a TV auto setting mode for most the day until belatedly discovered and yeah... this is the result.

we look like blue meanie magic mushrooms. quietly animated forest fungi were we. the only ones in sight that day.

temple of chuang mu

neil perry's latest joy-striking string to the bow for any eastern love deity's heart is spice temple. located beneath bligh street in the CBD [right under rockpool bar & grill], this oriental oasis will appease the most fussiest of cult goddesses.

overseen & beautifully crafted with meticulous care by old friend [ex longrain] the ever lovely crimson-framed baci moore, the expansive basement at the base of the stairs solicits secret fu manchu-like corners where dark mystery shrouds the mixed corporate crowd who visibly lurk beneath the compartmentalised shadows. but stay awhile & marvel at the william gibson-esque street door which harkens of cyberpunk neo-tokyo in heavenly waves of silken eroticism before making the descent into this modern day opium den where food is sacrilegious porn.

no province is left unturned and scant attention & research with visits to sichuan, yunnan, hunan, jianxi, guangxi and xinjiang results in a traditionalist philosophical approach blending exquisite & distinctly specific produce into a distinctly modern yet harmonious fusion which is a one way road to the altar of the deliciously divine with red signposts en route to highlight the spicier routes.

under baci's gentle direction we chose a simple path & started with pickles: cucumbers with smashed garlic & ginger. despite the implied violence of the dish the overall result was a delicious subtlety that i could never have guessed that any garlic had been abused in the making of this dish. somewhere after we ate stir fried scallops on a bed of minature square velvet noodles & chilli paste.

steamed flathead, jiangxi style with pickled mustard greens and turnip with chilli followed as a reluctant compromise to my ubiquitous lunch date john as his palate isn't quite as fiery as mine. this came to complement the piece de resistance which was the incredible hot pot of fresh shiitake, oyster, enoki and wild mushrooms, yunnan style which was cooked at the table before us.

i ordered this dish in homage to new friend ron, whom i met recently in sydney for the possible worlds canadian film festival, when he was here to promote his wonderful documentary know your mushrooms [these shrooms are for you, and fantastic they are]. this dish was highlighted red but i didn't find it particularly spicy at all so next time i'm definitely exploring the more vibrant components of the menu. and there will be plenty of those occasions.

i should say something about the wine -- there's lots of them [list of 100 on revolution], the chinese astrological cocktail menu [being a monkey i ordered one, it was delicious but the snake won the eye candy award]. then the complimentary rickshaws that we were treated to with perfect glaced cherries & lychee reflected rum lapping the rim of ice-filled tumblers but then there was dessert and that's why there are so many photos & other eye candy today... even the green tea was sublime.

the goddess spent, the people can rule for another day.

to the ruler, the people are heaven; to the people, food is heaven - chinese proverb

spice temple from punk monk propaganda on vimeo.

magic mushroom bowl from punk monk propaganda on vimeo.

rattling convergent realities

so... still rendered almost incapable of speech & motion by my chocolate alchemy skills for last night's punk monk propaganda mushroom party at possible world's canadian film festival screening of ron mann's "know your mushrooms" & the incredible fusion of forces led by punk monk producer, kate taylor as she led our wonderful tribe most notably clare, dermot, ky, davey, alex, michelle, raen, andy and barry on a magical mystery sensory adventure through the red rattler playground for the night.

an incredible spectacular featuring a street carnivale & magical enchanted spaces the immediate entry vibe of the event was infused with a warm technicolor chill. specific events to note: liquid light show, street projections, fluro hoola hoop girls, fire twirlers, handmade zines and that minature luminescent world... not to mention the wonderful film AND the 'shroom crepes.

i am still at the fireplace in space warming my marshmallows slowly. but am happy to remotely post these pics by fellow punk monk, andy finn after he went happily AWOL with my camera into the pulsing red & yellow womb of the night.

the chocolate tin is now empty. but the hole in the roof of the corner shop [punk monk HQ] remains.