"Even better, perhaps at long last we will abandon the adolescent notion of relentless progress that has had such a hold of us. This residue of Christian thought at the root of our Western utopianism leads not just to the 'personal is political' daftness in our own countries, but to politics as war in fruitless ventures in Afghanistan and Iraq. We might make most progress by rejecting 'the progressive project' in favour of a renewal of mature realism."
Steve Moxon, Progressing Backwards.
Clouds were forming and then dissipating, he was besieged by thoughts of a fresh start, strange things were happening, his head hurt constantly, he was nervous even getting up from his desk and going to the toilet. Some things were wrong. Even the sheets of grey that were cascading through him had taken on a nasty, silver tone, dicing flesh as they moved. He as screaming in silence and had no way to move. He would have preferred anything to this; apathy, blindness, a dead heart, to have already surrendered to impossible forces. These were the dark times and nothing ever changed. The only comfort came from images decades old.
If only he had companions, or a mentor, someone who could guide him through this nasty set of circumstances. If, as Julia said, there were others of like mind, he had no way of contacting them; and even attempting to do so was too dangerous at this point. How could you do battle with something made up of millions of parts? Something with no remorse, no doubt, no guilt. Something that was meant to be his protector but was nothing of the sort. Slave master. His thoughts must have been leaking into the system; but he had been so controlled. His dreams, of escape, of remote mountain villages, perhaps they had betrayed him. He rang Julia to check she was home. Everything seemed normal; on the surface.
The ancients prayed to Gods of their own understanding. They sought solace in the spiritual; equally difficult to understand as his enemy was to grapple. I'm going in, he heard himself think, immediately confronted with images of himself jumping into water, holding his nose, surrounded by bubbles. Your destiny is humanity's, he heard a voice say, and immediately dived further. He was seeking the core, the humming heart, but in this case it was cold and circular and he could already see it; like a giant space station in miniature, thousands of messengers coming and going, specks of light, a frightening power; at first glance infinite. He hovered amongst the glistening bubbles, astonished by what he was seeing. The specks of light kept coming and going. The core glowed a unique silver light.
What was most astonishing was that they didn't appear to notice him. Each of those pin points of light could have set off an alarm. He was totally vulnerable; yet appeared to be protected by invisibility. If there were voices, if there was a way through to the heart... He grew closer, like some cautious fish approaching an object it did not understand. He was clearly baffled, or swimming outside of his own control. It was then that he felt the tide, moving him closer, and he knew a sense of total terror. He couldn't survive being rewritten again. His physical form must be attracting attention from the hierarchy, if, as he suspected, he was totally unconscious. It didn't matter, he was growing closer at all too great a speed.
The space port, as he thought of the core as, grew in complexity the closer he got. Everything was at once infinite and concrete. He knew what he was looking at could only be the physical representation of something else; that in reality the core was something that existed inside giant computer servers; but none of that helped. He had joined, now, the other specks of light as they grew closer, drawn inwards. He couldn't swim backward. He couldn't protect himself. He was surrounded by dozens, then hundreds of specks of light, and then caught in a whirlpool as they were swept through the outer layers.
He had wanted to get here for years; to somehow infiltrate the heart of the matter; to alter the machine that was destroying all their lives. But he had no idea what action to take once he got there. These things were not just evil, they were positively confusing. The rooms seemed to echo, like the inside of a vast ball. Still tossed by the invisible currents, he struggled to keep himself in one piece. And then he was swirled into a silent atrium, still, apparently, undetected. He could not understand why he had managed to breach all the defences, without any plan, without even trying, with no assistance and with no armour. Outside, somewhere else, it was still just an ordinary day, he was doing an ordinary job in an ordinary office. But here he was in the heart of the beast; without a plan, awaiting instruction, or worse, far worse, detection and death.
THE BIGGER STORY:
http://mediamatters.org/items/200805160007?f=h_top
During a speech to the Israeli parliament yesterday morning, President Bush attacked Barack Obama, comparing him to Nazi appeasers for the Illinois senator's willingness to hold discussions with Iran.
One problem: Bush's speech came just hours after The Washington Post reported that Bush's defense secretary, Robert Gates, said that the United States needs to "sit down and talk with" Iran. Not only that, Gates added, "We can't go to a discussion and be completely the demander."
Oops.
Naturally, then, a media firestorm erupted, with the Bush administration and its political allies questioned all day about whether Bush has any idea what he is talking about, whether he has lost control over the Pentagon, whether Gates will be fired, what Gates thinks about Bush's comparison of those (like Gates) who advocate dialogue between the United States and Iran to appeasers of Adolf Hitler, and whether the fiasco will remind voters that the Bush administration's foreign policy has been marked by incompetence and dishonesty, thus doing irreparable electoral damage to John McCain and other Republican candidates.
Sorry -- what was I thinking? That didn't happen.
Instead, much of the news media got busy pretending the Post article didn't exist and that Gates had not undermined Bush's political attack on Obama. Instead, many news outlets simply rushed to repeat Bush's assault over and over again, as though it had merit.
http://news.theage.com.au/national/weather-dampens-kangaroo-cull-protests-20080517-2fax.html
Wet weather seems to have dampened expected protests against the Canberra kangaroo cull.
Only a small number of protesters turned out on day one of a process which is expected to run for some weeks.
The cull was announced on Friday afternoon when defence spokesman Brigadier Andrew Nikolic said the federal government had withdrawn support for research into relocating some 400 surplus kangaroos from the former navy transmitting station in Belconnen in Canberra's north.
"Defence therefore has no option but to undertake a cull," he said.
That prompted an outcry from animal welfare activists who said hundreds would turn out on Saturday.
But in the face of wet weather the turnout was more modest.
http://afp.google.com/article/ALeqM5j8fM4hlDz_0pm4wihhJRoHNsN7QQ
BOSTON, Massachusetts (AFP) — US Senator Edward Kennedy, a Democratic Party icon and scion of a storied political dynasty, was rushed to a hospital in Massachusetts Saturday after an apparent seizure, his office said.
"Senator Kennedy went to Cape Cod Hospital this morning after feeling ill at his home. After discussion with his doctors in Boston, Senator Kennedy was sent to Massachusetts General Hospital for further examination," a statement said.
A later statement from his office said: "It appears that Senator Kennedy experienced a seizure this morning. He is undergoing a battery of tests at Massachusetts General Hospital to determine the cause of the seizure.
"Senator Kennedy is resting comfortably, and it is unlikely we will know anything more for the next 48 hours," it added.
The Democratic senator had been at the Kennedy family compound in the town of Hyannis when he fell ill. Family members including niece Caroline Kennedy were arriving at the hospital in Boston.
The Boston Globe newspaper reported that Kennedy had suffered a seizure at home, and then another as he was being transported by helicopter.
Kennedy, 76, is the last surviving brother of the slain president John F. Kennedy, who was assassinated on November 22, 1963. His brother Robert Kennedy was assassinated on June 5, 1968 as he was campaigning for president.
Kennedy, who exerts heavy influence within his party and in Congress, is a fierce critic of President George W. Bush and a supporter of Democratic presidential hopeful Barack Obama.
Photographing murals in Surrey Hills, Sydney, Australia.
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