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Platypus Dreaming …  a prophecy, opens doors to an enhanced perception of humanities capabilities, taking the reader on a journey that is new and mystical yet hauntingly familiar, revealing layers, built over generations from stories ancient and modern, which shape and log our paths, as we seek to unfurl the clothe of wholeness.

Graeme Innes shows a language that has been hijacked, the words used as colonizing swords, rather than fulfilling their function as soul food. Designed to spark the mind and ignite individually useless snippets of experience, more and more, words have become limiting, self-constructed bars to an asphyxiating, fire proof jail of social tyranny.
Words and concepts have use-by dates which are often extended at our peril. Like old wood, they become rotten, unable to fuel a raging fire, necessary to cause a cathartic clearing of old mind debris, preparing for the new growth springing from last season’s fertile seed.
 The relationship between spirit and worldly matters, and the philosophies taught to regulate their interactions are opened by words and concepts often damned by plasticity of meaning. Many are misinterpreted and become part of the dead wood, useful to make bio-char, to nurture the roots of new growth.
 Plasticity of meaning captivated the writer’s attention in his youth. Words like beautiful were bandied about, despite everybody having different perceptions and interpretations of what beauty was. He found himself challenged by the gulf between verbal depictions and the realities to which they alluded, and it became his mission to find the foundations by which they could be comprehended.  
Raised in Masterton, New Zealand, Graeme gained an early interest in Australia’s original, founding Aboriginal culture, gleaned from the Pix and Post magazines, that were to be found in most men’s Barber’s shops.
 Those 1950’s photos of Australia’s outback, depicted ’The Originals’, at one with their spawning environment, their tranquil, sometimes bemused faces, surprisingly without tension or malice as they reclined or went about their business in pristine natural surrounds, their Garden of Eden.
Belying those portraits, often found on opposing pages, were articles and cartoons lampooning the Originals as Baboon like, sub-human creatures. Only the elite amongst them were ever accepted as fully human by a few white settlers.
Exactly one year after Graeme finished high school, the Originals were finally raised from being a weed-like sub-species, to having on-paper rights as citizens of the country of their unbroken lineage. They were included as burdensome, native interlopers and uncomfortable nuisances, begrudgingly civilized by the country’s colonizing force who denied their prior rights of occupancy.
By 1968, having fulfilled his responsibility as ‘a good little boy’, and completed his cadet journalist apprenticeship, Graeme left the Wairarapa Times-Age and took ship to Australia, finding work as the sole reporter for the weekly, Coonabarabran Times. The inspiring photographic images of yester-year which had woken his curiosity had been lost to his immediate consciousness.
The town was a small rural centre, three hundred dusty miles along bush roads, north-west of Sydney. Broad scale bull-dozer, ball and chain clearing of ‘Mallee scrub’ still very much in evidence, as were hotel windows allocated to the Originals to buy beer, so they couldn’t sully the premises with their presence.
It stood in stark contrast to the multicultural atmosphere of his birth country, which though badly flawed, seemed heavenly by contrast.
About six months into his employment, Graeme was approached by half a dozen Originals, women from the local tribe who’d been surreptitiously observing him, checking his character. Slowly, nervously, they began to speak about the regular raping of their daughters by white youths from town, and how their pleas for help to police had fallen on deaf ears.
An article Graeme prepared for publication, deemed acceptable by the Editor, was copied and lifted from ‘the block’ without permission. The racist employee took the story to the police, who warned the Editor its publication would have unspecified ‘grave consequences’ for his business, and Graeme, a young journalist, was given twelve hours to leave town, or he was ‘Dead Meat’.
This was the beginning of a cultural odyssey, the bits of which were slowly played out in Australia, post war Germany, Apartheid South Africa, New Zealand, Australia, Europe revisited, India and back again. On each leg of the journey, he developed an ever greater understanding of human dynamics, the things that move us and the things that force us to move.
During this period Graeme was often confronted by, and then guided through, the lack of cultural integrity. It appeared many of humanity’s problems lay behind a veil of colonizing forces, imposed by the exclusive use of hierarchal law. Cultural functionality was impaired by the implicit limitations of logic and reason.
The hierarchal system of thought development was consciously and unconsciously employed, to preclude acceptance of formations of direct perception (feeling and intuition, which are literally in formation). This necessary information has been systematically denied its part in the primary process of connecting substantial formations of light comprised reality.
Half the human information system has been rendered dysfunctional by an inability of post-colonial government agencies from applying their imprisoning logic and reason, to the fictional function of their own minds.
Religions have been unable quench Graeme’s thirst to comprehend life’s bewildering template. The more widely read he became, the more he came to see that dogma was bound into the schemata of written language.  Every written word was a record of a passed event that had lost the contextual power of its utterance. It had lost the currency of the spoken word.
“Fuck you”, changes dramatically through spoken intonation, and it’s through intonation that it gains its power of place and persuasion. This affliction of place and orientation affects all language, however written and recorded language becomes immediately severed from the inspiring branch of living substance from whence it grew, leaving it lingering, withering in the twilight world of ever shifting, imagined meaning, no longer supported by the world of its ‘sound’, soul birth.
Throughout his journey, Graeme has been fortunate to encounter some awesome minds. They arose from widely divergent spiritual and cultural paths and socio-economic backgrounds, yet all of them pointed to one conclusion surrounding collective dysfunction. Healthy functionality depends upon male/female balance, because its denial leads to cultural impotence; both need be equally reflected in decision-making processes.
Cultural collapse is predestined by unwillingness to integrate felt and intuited (in) formations in the mix of logically reasoned projection through the political marginalization of the female circular political form. The immediacy of feeling’s content, an effective early warning system which could constrain excessive global and local ‘investment’ in foolhardy projects, necessarily remains untested until after its employment. Goal driven projection excludes feeling or intuition, on the basis of their being untested, apparently invalidating inclusion in hierarchal projections, which means, all results are drawn from only half the available (in) formation.
Platypus Dreaming  …  a prophecy, seeks to provide a small measure of redress to this grave injustice, which isn’t Just Ice, although that is often its legal interpretation. Language is illusory, it creates solid feeling stories from the unreality of remembered or annotated experience in projection.
 Graeme has participated in, initiated and orchestrated successful cultural and environmental actions resulting in him:
Travelling widely within Australia and overseas,
Closing a sawmill and preventing logs being supplied from timber cut at Downey Creek Rainforest, a significant Gondwanaland forest remnant,
Providing the support vehicle and support for International Year of Peace Bike Ride cyclists, riding from Adelaide to Alice Springs, as well as running road-side public environmental education programs, and protesting against the secret Pine Gap complex,
Preventing construction of a proposed toxic waste incinerator, designed to process toxins, which were to have been imported from South East Asia by the US giant, Waste Management Inc, and incinerated at Muckety Station near Tennant Creek. (25 years later it was again under threat, this time from being used as a nuclear waste dumping site, until finally stopped by the Warlpiri custodians),
 Employing the services of a Queens Councillor, Clive Evatt QC, to bring charges of conspiracy to murder against specified Government Ministers if necessary, preventing the Prime Minister, Bob Hawke’s Government from passing enabling legislation to allow the mining of Guratba (Coronation Hill), a significant Jawoyn sacred site, considered as a major earth organ and ongoing point of Earth fertilization, as receiver, integrator and transmitter of information gathered from the cosmos,
 Submitting documents to the International Tribunal for Indigenous Peoples, Geneva, seeking a ruling to prevent mining damage to Australia’s natural, underground, aquifer system which represents 1/5th of its available water,
Providing public education, highlighting other unsustainable environmental incursions, such as Coal Seam Gas Fracking at Bentley, NSW,
Following live burial in a failed protest action near Daintree, North Queensland, Graeme introduced overnight earth burial initiations, as a tool to enhance understanding of our connectedness with the natural world, where each person plays the central figure, as well as a tiny spectator in a miniscule bit part.
He has worked in an abattoir, on farms, in the Kruger Park, in hotels, as a bi-lingual camping ground receptionist, a potter, on ski lifts, as a journalist, as a technical writer, a builder, designing and sewing clothes, a birthing assistant, a jack of all trades and a master of ceremonies.
The list of my occupations, like words carrying (in) formation, looks impressive, but words are slippery, so I ask readers of Platypus Dreaming to test their veracity in action. Don’t struggle against enemies and make them stronger, rather, find that part of you which is them, and make friends ensuring that peace nurtures everyone and everything. Sometimes friendship can look surprisingly like an avoidance relationship, involving mutual support that’s delivered through third parties.

Names : Graeme Douglas Innes
Skin group : jappanangka, gemini, messenger, journalist.