Click for Flow Rider Psycho Barreling photosWINGRID I am interested in any viewings of INGRID3D. Better if you were at the ICQ standard. With such an uplink I could easily go on for hours about INGRID3D
WINGRID is my first large upload of the Classic XY view morphed onto high speed frequencies. These file clips are being served now for your downloading pleasure from my PC with freeware copyleft commitment. 

Now link to my Server - END THE FLASHBACK AND FLASH FORWARD FROM- Tuesday, 28 December 1999 / 22:43:02

Regarding the series of live images of the beach where I live, I would like to say to the local Nazi COG underground who threatened my freedom of speech, that my posting of a beach picture on the web is NOT equivalent to some sort of social poisoning. What I say is that this is no different to telling an aquaintance over the phone what the weather was like at the beach? Moreover, this was meant as just the start in a long study of pattern matching of live images and swell charts, etc., in order to be able to predict excellent conditions. It's no secret that being local isn't a prerequisite to knowing when the surf's up!

What basic human permission/denial dialectic causes this territorial reaction and how does the internet change this? Are there not many feelings that people foster in their appreciation of wild nature? Surfing selfishness was not what the Internet was about.  I had hoped transparency would eventually make us more human. For all but the very sad this no longer seems an option.

And now fast-forwarding five years for something completely different, relating to an ongoing claim for personal injury against the Auckland Regional Council for failing to protect the public, you will see that in the following excerpt from my email, to my then doctor of June 26, 2000 as sealed on a yahoo group, there is no mention of the fact that when I was attacked by local thugs, I had no idea that a park official to whom I went for help was, as I learnt later on, related to my attacker and that it was he who held me from behind as I was being punched in the face. This beating caused a split in the root of a tooth which has a special precision attachment made for a partial denture. The tooth is now rotting my jaw causing a particularly bad odor requiring tens of thousands of dollars to put right. I'm writing this information here because, although I was successful in getting the ARC Parks Director to listen to my story in confidence, he would not give me the benefit of the doubt and assume liability for the actions of his employee, a public servant acting out of a public office in an assault and battery on a member of the public. So, because confidential or public information is like open or closed, the only difference is that one is opposite to the other, separated by a plus or minus sign, or in my case the push of a publishing button.

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"Yesterday I heard three rifle shots from behind the house and thought it was probably a police shooting. Then today I was attacked by local criminal and drug gang leader, Split Dick, who has for eighteen months verbally threatened to kill me or burn our house because of my internet camera which is pointing at the beach; - which he thinks is his beach. Or could it be my Clinton photo? Who knows the real reason? Also, the day before yesterday there were many jet skiers on the water and the evening before that there was a light from a yacht about a mile off shore.

You know our beach; - there is no way a yacht can come ashore, so who would think to keep a look out for smugglers. Anyway these busy jet skiers were going to and fro all day, maybe even to the yacht. A TV camera was monitoring all the jet skiers. They have never been here before and yachts don't come here because of the big seas and no harbor. This drug gang has made claims to me that they are protected by the SAS group in the area.

Today I was down at the beach collecting water for a new tank for Nuit, our seahorse, and had taken her with me. I put her in a tidal rock pond but she wouldn't eat. Maybe it was the shock of being so close to the sea again. Anyway I was having trouble sealing the large water container and it was going to spill sea water inside my van. Just then Paul Wilson arrives in another van with a rather brutal thug named Ryan Dent who again threatens to kill me for days earlier returning a finger sign to this Paul Wilson. He used to rent a room here and was forcibly evicted when I found him and his gang dealing drugs from our house.

Then they moved their van about a hundred meters away and the thug gets out and heads back in my direction. As he advances towards me I take out my spear gun, look at it, and figure that because it was all tied up there was no time to load it so I jumped in the van and try to escape. The thug jumps up on the road, blocking my path, and before I could get going he starts hurling about a dozen large rocks, hitting my van, and finally one smashes through my windscreen and lands on Nuit. Then, with sea water and glass all splashing around inside my van I drive past him and stop at the Ranger's office to get help. They refuse. I ask if I can leave the van there and go back to see any witnesses. Just then these thugs arrive and it seems they have all the locals scared. He punches me in the face and says that my cat, Muriwai, is dead; - as you know from my earlier email she vanished on May 28.

I hastily retreat back home. Once there, shaking, nervous and expecting to be attacked any minute, I ring the police and it seems the thug had also rung them because he now had official witnesses who saw the spear-gun, that I had held in self defense. Their story is completely different about who started the attack.

The local policeman arrives within the hour and wants me to let the matter drop saying he has known this gang all his life and he trusts them when they say that they have no reason to want to burn our house or kill me. The local policeman, Bill Allen, says I am free to lay a complaint against his handling of the situation but he would rather I didn't and just forget the incident; - but adds there is no way he will try to get reparation for the damage to my van. He takes my spear gun. I suspect he is in cahoots with this gang. Incidentally, members of this gang follow me when I leave the house and were watching from their cafe when I post mail at the local post box.

Nuit survived; - only just. She is now back in her old tank. I have a very sore jaw and many cuts from broken glass. I am all alone.

My lawyer, Barry Hart, who is across from your office, has just returned my call and thinks I should leave things for now but keep him informed of any developments.

The gangs motto is, "Welcome to Muriwai - a good place to die".