Jonny`s Memoirs

I had the sad task , myself being a newbee, to clean out
Jonny`s locker and cabin.
Nobody wanted to do it, so I had the short f``ing straw.
I would admit to nobody , I cried profusely, and things were
made worse when I found the letter, that until this moment I
had never told nobody of it`s existence .
 I include it here dear reader,
 I found it profound and shocking. I had always thought of Jonny the Hook as a simple
man, but this letter said more than he would ever be able to
say under normal circumstances to his shipmates.His memoirs were quite prolific ,and I reference them in my own story.
They were after time , so disturbing to me I eventually
burnt them.Perhaps this was one of the more severe errors I
have made in my life. I am not sure.
What  rested within them perhaps should never sea the light
of day.  I will cautiously transcribe the one page that I retained 

and hid in the wooden box.



I should just clarify for  any reader that has occasioned
upon my memoirs.
Perhaps I should put things straight, as I am sure you have
missed a chapter or two which may have pertained to the
unrelenting tasks that throughout history show the power of
human survival and  endurance which I choose now to describe
and call a memoir.
I had been brought up as any child could have been, I had
the benefit of an education that in these days seems rare.
To me it had been no more than an education.
It was an all encompassing hell in my young opinion . But
now perhaps I see the point.
I say cautiously that I was not as brainwashed as the others that follow me.
In my estimation they have no chance to think.
The dominance of myself was less subtle and more self useful,
now the dominance of education is more extreme.
I feel I have been poisoned.
I am concerned the poisons within me will profoundly inhibit
my over late and complex warning to you, the reader.
That is a mercurial teeth issue.and many other toxins that
are nearly impossible to avoid.

Now I remember more . It took me years of re-self education
to break the bond that had tied my mind.
I had forgotten the extremes I have been through , and still
after many years of looking for enlightenment I have still
struggled with my pre inserted control formatting.
LSD has helped,but also caused a huge amount of uncontrolled
damage .
 
It is so long and so far away now, I seem to have forgotten
that I was under control.
 I have been controlled. I have forgotten how powerful it
is, and was.
Now,when I remember, it is shocking how much re education of
myself I had to make.
Stupidly |I assume others are as enlightened as me , but in
the cold light of reality ,how could they be.They must still
be under the heavy influence of their parental and
educational background. I am so far from this , I have
forgotten how hard and unlikely it is for normal folk to
break these simplistic sacred bonds. These are the bonds of
guarantee of our servitude to to authority.
It Is for this reason I freely sacrifice myself to the shark
that has relentlessly hunted me and caused my shipmates so
much concern.
Sea you beyond love Jonny.

The biggest thing I had a problem with was imagining Jonny
with his extreme  old school pirate accent saying this girly
stuff. I needed a stiff drink.

full moon precautions

I have just remembered what I was trying to say.
When one has a wee outside.( I understand why many females don`t do this so often), but for me, it`s  a primordial drive.
If it is a full moon (which it is tonight) or even moon lit  .
It is very wise ( or overcautious ) to piss with the moon behind oneself.
A full and uncompromising view of shadows which will warn one of unexpected arrivals  from either left or right will most certainly be cast in the grass.
For those who shit in the woods I recommend Wickes`s 500watt work light

converstations with a friend

From my early realization that John`s amps had something
special.
The clarity of sound , the overwhelming warmth of those
valves,the intuitive configuration John had manufactured
from his dream,that had the end result of just kicking
ass.If one had the luxury of playing a Les Paul through
those babies, you would know what I mean.

It was purely this that drove me to meet the guy. And I
admit If all went well, I would use Black ops hypnosis on
him

My end game was all that really mattered.
In all honesty I can`t but for the life of me remember which
of the many names I used with Bedini.
OK I have taken the step that leaves me completely open.
Names perhaps should never be specified?

Maybe I have been kidding myself anyway, and have been for
the last 7 years.
Maybe too many helicopters fly over? I don`t know.Is there a
mathematical formula to ascertain the quantity of
helicopters flying over ones house that would enable one to
judge the subtle difference between paranoia and the
rational and wise choice of wearing brown underwear and
carrying small arms. Lets face it, we all need to go shopping for veg.
If such a formula exists I am truly unaware of it.
Anyway I digress.
For the point of explanation for those of you who are unaware.
The less publicized reason d`etre of John in the more recent
past, is his obsession with overunity.
It is possible I had some input to encourage his
obsession.Who knows?
Anyway from my experience of designing the boat`s
electromagnetic overunity device, grace to a great scientist.
Electromagnetic force had at that time become a constant preoccupation.

It`s almost becoming a habit of mine , to stand on the
shoulders of giants, I have done it so much now I am worried
those shoulders are chaffed and sore , or perhaps I am causing them Carpel
tunnel syndrome.
Anyway It`s late and I am frustrated ,as I still haven`t managed to say half of what I wanted to say.

chilli sweats 2

Hi Wheels,

Thanks for the card, I thought it very appropriate.Elephants

never forget. I hope you will forgive my audacity in

tracking you down.But you did the same. They were good days.
I`ve been reminiscing, and writing a few things down.

Obviously not giving anything away. I am playing a bit of

music again, what are you up to? do you still see Speilberg?
and the others?
Anyhoo, I`m going to cut you into one of the weird sessions

on the boat.

I woke cold and drenched, It took me a few moments to

realise it was just a dream. Once back in the now , the

feeling of relief was completely overwhelming.
I could see the sun through my  porthole, and needed to get

straight up on deck and breathe the fresh sea air.
I couldn`t wait. As fast as possible, I got there and inhaled

with all my might the fresh clean salty air.
My head was clearing from that terrible nightmare, the

relief was tangible.
The beauty of the sunshine struck me, a fresh breeze stroked

my still wet face, at last I could breathe again.
There were  a few crew busying themselves with their duties

 but all was calm and correct.
Then the thought came to me . I could do with a drink. If

for nothing more than to celebrate my continued existence

against all odds, and that glorious sun warming my face and

soul.
 I remembered  the single malt I had so carefully secreted

away. I realised from the angle of the sun, it was no more

than 11 o`clock, and I didn`t give a damn. After such a

nightmare, I was so glad to be awake and alive, all of my

carefully constructed rules could go fuck themselves.

I snook back to my cabin.The word cabin glorifies the true

nature of my allotted hole in the big metal beast that the

boat was. But at least it was my private haven.

Short of breath from the anticipation of the self indulgence

that awaited me, I withdrew from under my bunk the hardwood

box. I opened the lid after using the clever key mechanism,

and on my knees, the glowing beauty of the bottle stared

back at me , I could swear it was singing to me and smiling,

like a long-lost drunken buddy once left behind in Madagascar.
The anticipation perhaps is always greater than the

realization.
It was at that moment my eye caught sight of the writing on

the underside of the lid.
My heart sank, it was not painful, it was more like falling

into a well, a well that is in the middle of a field, a well

that is so innocuous nobody will find you , nobody will

pull you out. A sad crying well.
I was so drained I couldn`t move. I knew what would happen

next, and unfortunately it did.
The problem for me wasn`t the situation, it was more my lack

of inner strength. I had been drained.thoroughly drained.
Unless one has experienced the evacuation of

all of one's energy ,will, and even, dare I say it, soul, one would

find it hard to believe how vacuous it is possible to feel,

and yet be alive.

I knew from experience the shit had hit the fan, and I

better react or die, here and now .
I reacted. like countless times before. I gripped the bottle

and twisted the unbroken seal and gulped like there was no

tomorrow, because sure as the sun shines, `if I don`t kick

into overdrive I am finished.'
It`s perhaps easy for an overseer, to have realized sooner

the quandary I was in, but when it is in the here and now,

it`s not so simple.
For the experienced at this type of situation, it would be

obvious what I tried to do next.
 But I will explain the drill.
 First I tried to add two and two, then four and four.
That worked. I picked up my lucky butterfly knife from the

box and cut my arm. It bled. I tried to read the godforsaken

HB pencil writing on the inner box lid, but realized that

would not suffice as an adequate test, as the words were so

unworldly they could never be a judgment of physical

reality. What could I use as a true test? my head screamed.
Then it struck me, It was an irrelevant quest.To judge which

reality I was in was not important. The simple fact

remained, I was here, and it was now. More than this, I knew

what was happening ,and it was going to happen whether I

liked it or not.
The sun from the porthole faded, the pipes in the cabin were

starting to vibrate, the boat was swaying. Wake up buddy! I

said to myself. Time is of the essence. I have been pre-warned,
so I had better shut that hybrid down fast. I knew I

could perhaps rely on there being one more loop, but I

better get it this time. There were no guarantees.

Seeing the wood within the trees

Rarely and occasionally one is granted the insight and clarity to see the forest.
When one is blessed by such an occasion it is time to put ones axe in its cosy wooden shed.
Speaking personally I have many blunt axes.
I feel they have done their tasks, and it is nice to lay them down, so that they can rest in complete assurance their efforts will not be called upon again. Yet exceptionally when all else fails, if one is truly honest, axes never die. They are just resting. It is a rest of the just, akin to the hibernation of a bear.

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It is cold it is wet.
The walk is real now.
The sounds of the party in my head are fading now, like a dim dying candle,mirrored by my cold dead lighter.
I can feel my feet now. I can feel the minor abrasions that are normally nothing , now they are becoming something.
Are they Wisely showing me my error?
Are they showing me the error I might have made?
I knew , I knew.
 What does that mean? What is ice, what does it mean?
 Is it the same cold embrace that normal folk should fear?
Surely that does not apply to me?
I cannot die. I don`t believe this!

 One simple error, surely this is not my irreversible death.
How feeble am I.
 I cannot believe this error.To think such a minor error could lead to such a finality.
Oh how careful one should be as one chooses ones products from the internet.
If only I had bought that winter jacket in Asda. Perhaps I would see my family again.

chilli sweats 1

I was on deck; the sun was shining; it was 11 a.m.. I had done all my menial duties, life was good now. I looked directly

into the sun just long enough for it to burn its power and unrelenting warmth into my inner cortex.
Naturally I felt like a drink. If only to show my appreciation for the unfolding power,luminosity and warmth that was
demonstrated for all to see. The immensity of the universe and beyond, was there in its glinting eye.
This was the luminosity that Darwin had neglected to observe, I thought to myself.

I remembered - oh so well - the whiskey I had hidden from him, the other one. And at this moment, I chose to break all rules
and drink from its forbidden chalice.
I visualized, so exactly, the small wooden trunk beneath my bunk: it made me wonder why had I not been there before.

My only reasoning was that now must be the time; the time to taste that single malt that took so much trouble to acquire and
save from the spawn-like abuse of friendship.
I went below;I was almost invisible, or so I imagined, safe in the certainty that no-one could suspect my planned secretive
orgy of whiskey before midday.

As I entered my cabin, the sun was still glinting through my meager porthole. Short of breath through excitement, I withdrew
the box from below the bunk.  I should just add, this was no normal box.
This box contained all pertinent details of my previous lives, including multiple passports and ID`s, and - even more
importantly - the Tesla notes that mysteriously had disappeared after his strange death. And other trinkets that I am not,
even now, in a position to mention.
One could understand why the box had been made from multiple exotic timbers laminated into an exquisite lattice whose purpose
was to withstand a strong man with a sharp axe attacking said box for 4 hours or more. Fortunately this had not occurred ,
partly due to my discretion and partly due to other techniques that will remain secret.

The padlock(such that it seemed) could be opened by the possessor of the key. I had that key.
I opened the box.
The interior of the box was in shadow from my bunk, but I clearly saw the whiskey. I went to grab it, then I noticed the
writing on the underside of the lid.
I had NOT written on the lid!.
Again it was that damn HB pencil that I had traversed the globe to get away from. Those dribbling letters flowing like slime
from top to bottom, in their sickeningly ugly beauty.
I tried to focus to read them but at that same moment it became dark.
The weather had changed. It was not unusual here to experience sudden changes in weather. The sun through the porthole had
gone. But there was more.
The engines were throbbing at full pelt. This WAS rare,I could tell they were at full pelt , because the pipes through my
cabin that also served as heating elements were rattling, at a rate that shouted the engine was indeed at full throttle and
beyond.
Yes, this circumstance was rare. Everything including my mood had changed. It was now nearly dark and the engines were going
crazy. I grabbed the whiskey quickly, opening the seal, and gulped a few. I sat on my bunk for what seemed like an hour to
try to grasp what the hell was happening. It was in fact a few seconds, my adrenalin was peaking.
Things had been getting a bit weird since we used the Tesla technology on the engines, but this was more extreme than I had
predicted.

I went into panic mode, my head was screaming "sort it!": it was my fault.
I took another healthy gulp from the single malt and got on my feet.I made my way to the deck, I knew I had to somehow shut
those hybrids down.
When I arrived on deck the sea was monstrous, the sky was dark as death, and nobody was to be seen.
I threw a glance at the wheel-house , it looked empty.
The boat was rocking now, and the waves were wild , they had a countenance that one sees but once in a lifetime.
I rushed and struggled  to the wheel-house, with the sole thought of shutting the engines down.
The boat was rolling more extremely than I had ever experienced, but I managed to make my way up the precarious stairway
into the wheel house.
Of course, I was shocked to see the wheel-house and deck empty of crew, but, deep down, I knew and expected it to be so.
I grabbed the wheel in an effort to turn the boat into the bizarre mutant waves.
I couldn`t believe it. It was fixed solid, immovable as if it had been welded. It was absolutely welded solid , non turnable.

I grabbed at the twin throttles to reduce the crazed engine over-spin, again they were immovable, they too were welded firm
at full throttle.
It was at this point I saw the large pinnacle shaped rock dead ahead. We were heading straight at it.A 300ft high piece of

uncharted rock in the Indian ocean. How can this be? Again I struggled with the wheel and the throttles; it made no

difference. A lifetime passed as I stood there helpless, paralyzed and confused in fear.At the moment the boat struck the
rock, I woke up drenched in sweat and as cold as ice in my bunk.