Low Tide Footprints
Sound Collages - audio adventures
Low Tide Footprints Surging wavelets Obliterating Low tide’s coastal smears Footprints on the sand Returning to the depths Dog walkers and single mothers Escaping the relentless pull of Celene Marks were left “I was here!” Now they are gone
info_outline
Deep Sleep Meditation
Sound Collages - audio adventures
For more audio go to: or email
info_outline
Requiem
Sound Collages - audio adventures
info_outline
Carrauntoohil Dreaming (2)
Sound Collages - audio adventures
[email protected]
info_outline
Carrauntoohil Dreaming (1)
Sound Collages - audio adventures
info_outline
Skibbereen Soundscape
Sound Collages - audio adventures
Life, Freedom and Famine
info_outline
# mrjonmoore audio adventures episode018
Sound Collages - audio adventures
Found sound, mash ups 1950s advertising and conspiracies: MK ultra!
info_outline
#mrjonmoore audio adventures episode017
Sound Collages - audio adventures
Then there arose in the land of the free a new idea, well an old idea resuscitated. An idea that should have been drowned like a misformed kitten. Yet was not. And out of the soft, out of the complacent, in memory no more, as clock clowns tinker with just how close we are to annihilation, two to twelve, one and a half? Existential accountants seeking annual publicity. And as we no longer suck in a breath when yet another school shooting pops up on the news feed, so The memory of Nagasaki, Hiroshima, Nevada, Bikini and even mu aroa slides off a cliff as those who lived them take the blast...
info_outline
#mrjonmoore audio adventures episode016
Sound Collages - audio adventures
Pi I was listening to a doco by an autistic savant the other day. He described how he had recited the number pi to 25,400 places. Interesting enough in it’s own right but a comment he made struck something deep. “Pi contains your phone number, it contains your date of birth, it even contains your date of death.” A powerful number this one. Imagine any number you want, your tax file number, the Prime Minister’s Tax File Number,and it is there within the irrational ramblings of Pi. Decode this number and imagine the power. The PM’s TFN, imagine that. The problem, of course, is Pi...
info_outline
#mrjonmoore Audio adventures episode015
Sound Collages - audio adventures
Well Hello!!! And welcome to “Everyone can Podcast!” Not only can you, you probably should! Everyone has at least one story in them and now you can let that story run free. Once upon a time, way back in 2004 when podcasting began we would have needed a studio, soundproof walling, boom mics, mixers and a whole lot of other gear. Since those early days, technology has changed, changed by leaps and bounds. While we always try to produce the best possible sound in our recordings, the tools now available allow podcasters to produce good quality audio with much...
info_outlineI see the Goddess revealed in an old lady's toothless smile.
| birth | life | death |
| beginning | activity | cessation |
| creation | growth | grave |
| parturition | heart | exit |
| nascency | zest | silence |
****
It was through many incarnations the Captain learned to understand both himself and this plane of being. True enough with each reincarnation he forgot the lessons from the last but these were always remembered as he lived through each life. In this incarnation, his final journey upon this plane, the Captain had re-formulated his theories before I re-met him.
He has chosen a difficult path this time around. It looked difficult to me and to others. Looking in from outside is never a way to fully understand another but what else do we have? When I met the Captain he was in physically less than perfect shape. The ancients considered the circle to be the pinnacle of perfection so maybe he being round was more perfect than our culture gives credit for. Short by the standards of the day, 5 foot, 3 inches in height, he was definitely short for his weight. The medical profession would have said he was heavy for his height but I remember the Captain from other lives. He was short for his weight.
Given this, his tendency to chain smoke until every available cigarette was gone meant his height to weight ratio was not as severe as it could have been. He was not fussed where his smokes came from, he was not fussed what physical acts he had to endure/enjoy to ensure a steady supply of nicotine. So long as he was supplied he was able to continue his mission during this incarnation. In much the same way we know nothing of Charlemagne's childhood yet he became Holy Roman Emperor, I know little of the Captain's. In a way this does not matter. What matters is his well developed theories of existence and how these related to his mission in this life.
His physical incapacities were the least of his worries to those of us looking in from outside. The Captain had chosen to live as more of an outsider this time. He was diagnosed by many and varied medical types as: intellectually disabled, a mental spastic, a schizophrenic and as borderline personality disordered. None of these truly fitted the Captain as I saw him. By choosing this culture at this time, he was always going to be labeled this way. Had he chosen this configuration in earlier times he would have been a shaman, a mystic, a hermit. It was in those terms I came to see him.
I understand that to many who knew him and many who read this, the medical definitions seem more accurate.
The Captain's understanding of this world and his mission in it are so inexplicably linked that to separate them would be to diminish the greatness of his vision. Metaphor hidden in simile wrapped up in enigma and tied off with question marks were the looks on people's faces when the Captain’s full understanding of this world were explained to them. I took some time to come around to the Captain's view myself. Yet as his rememberer I was in a different place from others when it came to seeing this way of looking at the world.
As succinctly as I can, I will now outline the Captain Sputo Hall understanding of this world. There is a street in Melbourne called Brunswick Street. In this street is a black box. It is disguised as an electrical supply unit. From this box the entire world we see and understand is generated. The world of existence as we perceive it is an illusion. When I asked the Captain about this, pointing out his nicotine addiction was just part of the illusion and therefore not real, he smiled. The cunning part of this illusion is even those who see through it are trapped by it. Indeed, those who see through it are more fully trapped as only they understand the enormous power of the illusion.
The illusion will be smashed and peace will break out upon Earth once the Captain fulfilled his mission. Now this is the part which confirmed the medical understanding of the Captain. It is also the part which shows the genius of his choices for this incarnation. The Captain's mission is to locate Elvis, recite the magical words which will destroy Elvis forever and in doing so the box of illusions in Brunswick Street will collapse in upon itself. The real world which lives just behind the veil of illusion will be obvious to us all. Elvis was fully aware of the Captain's mission and had chosen to fake his death to go undercover and maintain the illusion. Naturally this made the Captain's task so much more difficult. Yet as the Captain was fond of saying, great works require great trials. If finding Elvis was easy, the theory would have been clear to everyone.
***
A man walks into a grocery store with a notebook. "Do you have sausage?" "No." He makes a note. "Bread?" "No." He makes another note. "20 years ago, they would have shot you for making notes like that," says a woman waiting in line. "No bullets either," he writes.