The power of a Secret

My life is driven my secrets. Hell, I’m driven by secrets.

To me there is nothing more exciting than knowing something more than the majority of people. When I first walked through the darkened control room at a RAAF fighter base, I knew that I wanted to have unfetted access to that space. This lead to my first job as a Fighter Controller.

After leaving the Air Force and striking it out on my own, it was the allure of the stage that tugged my heartstrings. Not that I gave a toss about what was going on on-stage, but I sure as hell wanted to know what happened in the dark recesses of the back stage areas.

Donning naught but black for many years, I learned a lot about the world, and I managed to experience things that I would imagine many people dream of. I’ve drunk absinth with a magician in a red light district. I’ve traveled the world so that I can give my opinion on technology and design. I’ve been personally thanked by the late, great James Brown. And probably more than half a million people have read and enjoyed a story that I worked on, mostly in the seclusion of a private IRC channel (possibly the most secretive of Internet chat protocols).


But yet, now that I have had a few years behind the curtain, I want more, and I feel that my obsession is going to lead me further afield. the problem with a secret is that once you know it, it’s not longer a secret. The adrenaline that accompanies the crossing of the public/private threshold only lasts for so long.

I want to leave this life having explored as much of this world as I can. I don’t mean in the “discover the lost tribes of the Amazon” sense, I mean the “Get access to the most exclusive parts of the world” type of exploration.

For example: I would love to go and visit the reactor at Chernobyl. To cruise around Pirpyat would be a dream holiday for me. Similarly I think I would enjoy a day in Centralia in the US, where an accidental mine fire has caused the city to be abandoned, including a diversion of the local highway to avoid the town.


And it is for this reason I bought a book about the Bechtel Corporation, called “Friends in High Places.” The first chapter describes the Bohemian Grove; a secret camp in California where the rich and powerful go to act like drunken schoolboys. That immediately set off my interest, and now I’m keen to read more. When I’m done I’ll be sure to let you know how it goes.


Anyway, I haven’t written anything more at this point. I have recently been on one of my aforementioned international trips, and hence haven’t really been in the mindset to sit down and write.


I hope you enjoyed this little peek into what gets me up in the morning.


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