i found this an interesting and entertaining read. its a dialog that transpired between robert hunter and terrance mckenna online some time ago. http://www.levity.com/orfeo/index.part1.html it begins: "Terence, in reading your books I was struck with how closely your DMT experiments paralleled my own. I wasn't surprised by the confirmation, as you might guess. I considered myself a serious DMT explorer between 1967-69. I stopped only because I was told to, in no uncertain terms, by the Boss of that place. Three times, in fact, to my dismay. Disobedience was costly. I was informed that I'd been shown all that was mine to know, to use that, and not try to extract more. I've written of the classes and varieties of DMT experience in a chapter of my journal, memoirs, and will send it along at some point. The experiences were commanding and altered my grasp of reality. DMT invokes the various dimensions of its domain through pathways characterized by brisk rhythms. Robert Hunter" ...and continues on in that fasion. both of these guys have a way with words and a wit any tripper can respect.
fantastic correspondence. Very rich linguistically, but i am a stranger to so much of what they say. i am convinced they have confused the inward flux of data with the outward flux of data. the stupid might of the tryptamine occurence is definetely something to marvel at, though this is one step of an infinitely diverging and deepening cosmic pie-in-the-face; we marvel at that which is our destruction, our sublimation into non-existence and a new order, our old rich realities now just the black dirt from which some strange, primally normal and infinitely trivial event unfolds. and how our language flows silkily and oily over our recollection of something, gliding with perceptible friction and casting a sheen on it all, subtly distorting it. In the land of thought and noise there is no clear water. all while the speaker is the thing being distorted. a joke of contexts, thats what it all is. what you think is this is really that of those; pronouns and adjectives and adverbs, empty vessels overflowing with effervescent milk. the endless tastes of nouns, empty of the visceral calories we seek upon shamed and joyous appraisal. the stuff of madness and the madness of stuff!
I just reaad thru all of that, what a long time it was.....interesting, it still feels like terrance is alive on the islands of hawaii, RIP Terrence Mc., More refined than T.Leary anyday IMHO.
