Bex

Bexi’s grades tanked ~ her sophomore year is over and she’s sitting slouched and expressionless ~ she says she feels ‘a bit off’ ~ her mother says she doesn’t know what to do ~ she tried taking her to the hospital (?) ~ but the hospital said they needed family therapy ~ family therapy wound up causing more grief ~ mainly because her mum had to take time off of work ~ which I’m sure made Bexi feel even worse ~ probably why she’s feeling ‘a bit off’ ~ I suppose I would feel the same way ~ her mother is talking, but I tune her out and focus gently on Bexi ~ I sense discomfort ~ she doesn’t like attention ~ now I sense a shift ~ she’s pissed ~ her mum is talking about all of those ‘private family matters’ Bexi brought up during counseling ~ and how she really ripped into her for it afterwards ~ so now I think that ‘counseling’ must sound more like ‘punishment’ to Bexi ~ and her mother is using it as a threat ~ funny, in my day it was reform school.

Her self-portrait ~ submitted with permission

Fire on the mountain

My sanctuary is under fire ~ and if the wind changes direction ~ it’ll be toast. Tassajara is a Zen monastery located in the Big Sur wilderness ~ 14 miles from the nearest paved road ~ and surrounded by the Los Padres National Forest ~ which is on fire right now. I’ve been receiving messages over the Internet from people who live nearby. Apparently evacuation orders were issued ~ but the monks chose to stay ~ setting up barricades ~ and a sprinkler system ~ among other things. So, the local sheriff asked them to provide the names of their dentist ~ for identification ~ and a team of firefighters has taken up residence ~ being fed in the monastery kitchen ~ mainly rice and vegetables. Although Buddhist monks are known for self-sacrifice ~ they’re no fools ~ if things get too dangerous they’re going to bail alongside the firefighters ~ none of them wants to risk their life to save a building ~ that’s not where they’re at. Nevertheless, my heart grieves ~ admittedly for the loss that I may suffer ~ but also for the residents of Big Sur who have already lost their homes. One person I heard from says that my other sanctuary ~ the Esalen Institute ~ is safe for now ~ even so ~ they’ve been ordered to evacuate as well.

Click on photo to enlarge

Photo courtesy of ZenCenter

Big Sur Wilderness

Brandi Carlile

I went to the Lobero Theater today where I saw Brandi Carlile and Priscilla Ahn ~ a couple of indie folk artists who, I must say, blew me away ~ in fact, I can’t remember the last time I was so entranced by an opening act ~ Priscilla sings like an angel ~ no, more like a choir of angels (she knows how to use the wee-petal so it really does sound like a choir) ~ her songs are smart and funny and made us laugh a lot ~ Brandi wails and brings everyone to their feet ~ how often can you say that about a folk singer ~ I guess you can say that a lot these days ~ I see so many female artists who can play unplugged like Joan Baez ~ perform country music like Johnny Cash ~ and rock ‘n roll like Melissa Etheridge ~ now maybe I live in a shell and haven’t been aware of it ~ but it sounds to me like female artists are finding their voice in just about every type of music today ~ folk, country, rock, metal, goth ~ and some are creating their own style ~ man, I salute them all. There’s something else I can’t help noticing ~ a pleasant but unfamiliar fragrance around me ~ it’s kind of soapy ~ not like dial or ivory soap or anything like that ~ more like something you get at a spa or salon.

Click on image to see full size

Solstice

I drag my tired ass outta bed ~ pop a couple vitamin C and chase them with coffee ~ reminding myself that this is not the best way to absorb them ~ I trudge down to the parade route ~ planning to catch the tail end and follow it to the festival at the park ~ a plop my ass down on the curb and watch the parade pass ~ I see Arabian belly dancers ~ King Neptune and his mermaids ~ Egyptian pharaohs ~ contortionists ~ acrobats ~ Swedish campers wearing only backpacks and hiking boots ~ Ojai girl riding a bike ~ wearing only pasties ~ children chasing bubbles blowing out the back of a float ~ and it dawns on me ~ this isn’t the tail-end ~ it’s somewhere near the middle ~ which suits me fine ~ I haven’t been keeping track of time ~ particles of shimmering colors rain down from the sky ~ and I’m mesmerized. After the grand finale I duck into Starbucks ~ it’s like 100° out ~ and the humidity is like 100% too ~ so, I figure I’ll sit here and conserve energy (and fluid). When I arrive at the park I see a swirling mass of multi-colored humanity ~ I plunge in and collapse under a tree ~ the drummers are drumming but there’s no one dancing ~ I sit up and see everyone passed out ~ I’m drenched in sweat ~ which mixes with sunscreen ~ and goes into my eyes ~ burning like hell ~ I flush them with bottled water ~ do some deep breathing exercises ~ feel hot air burning my lungs ~ and still see no one dancing ~ someone passes me some herb ~ which makes my lungs burn even more ~ sweat and sunscreen continue to fall into my eyes ~ I’m parched and blind but too stoned to get up and look for water ~ or anything else that may refresh ~ Laura is going to meet me here but I’m wondering how long I’m gonna last ~ when a beer vendor drops off several bags of ice in front of me.

Betrayal

My father made me a promise ..he said that he was prepared to help pay the cost of my stepdaughter’s college education ..just like he was prepared to do for all of his grandchildren. He even told me that he considered Vanessa to be like a granddaughter to him. You cannot imagine the joy I felt ..for the first time I felt like I was part of a family.

Vanessa completed Santa Barbara City College with honors. Her artwork was exhibited in shows and museums both on campus and around the community. I felt proud at each award ceremony I attended in her honor. I encouraged her to pursue her dreams ..cost was no object. She was admitted to the prestigious Art Center College of Design in Pasadena. I was thrilled ..all the major companies hire talent from there. I had no doubt Vanessa would be successful.

That’s when my father withdrew his offer. He told me it was ‘unreasonable’ to expect him to pay for her college education. Now he felt like she was taking advantage of him and swore he wouldn’t pay her a dime ..after all, nobody helped put him through school. I felt sunk. This was a deal he made with me. Vanessa wasn’t counting on him for anything ..in fact, she was already applying for grants and scholarships. No, it wasn’t her that he was refusing to help ..it was me.

What's that smell

Joe is helping me repair the deck ~ we’re replacing boards ~ pounding nails ~ and I’m hammering dimples into whatever good wood is left. We sealed it with some kind of new preservative I’ve never heard of ~ it’s environmentally friendly ~ which means it cures by sunlight ~ and takes forever to dry. This morning I can really smell it ~ I open the window and I’m like ~ uh oh ..I had no idea it was gonna smell like this ~ it’s not bad ~ I mean, to me ..it smells like a redwood forest ~ a really pungent redwood forest ~ later on I find out that it only smells that way to me because I associate it with my redwood deck ~ to my neighbor Cezar, it smells like an electrical fire ~ which I suspect is because he’s around sound equipment all the time ~ I apologize and tell him I had no idea it was gonna smell that way ~ and he’s like “no problémo, dude” ~ he says when he discovered it wasn't a fire ~ he calmed down and felt better ~ I ask Joe what he thinks it smells like ~ and he says fiberglass ~ and I’m thinking surfboards ~ so now I’m afraid to ask my plumber Arturo what he thinks.

Social anxiety

I’m rushing around trying to prepare stuff for UPS ~ and meet some friends later for sushi ~ I’m ready to go when I discover my car has a flat ~ and I’m running out of time ~ OK OK OK ~ I tell myself ~ not to worry ~ I’ll call someone and get a ride to UPS ~ or blow-off UPS and go straight to the sushi place ~ and really piss-off Dave who’s in Big Sur waiting for this stuff ~ either way I still have a flat tire to deal with ~ so, I put on a pair of overalls and figure I’ll see how much time is left when I’m through ~ I’m jumping up and down on the jack-handle because someone fastened the lug nuts with an hydraulic wrench ~ I finish without having to call AAA ~ but I stink ~ so I freshen up in the sink ~ the tire looks like it was sliced with a shiv ~ and I see images of pissed-off road-warriors chasing me down the highway ~ I put ‘new Pirelli’s’ on the list ~ arrive at UPS on time ~ and walk over to Arigato Sushi ~ Matt tells me that Portland has replaced Eugene as the place to be ~ he’s leaving tomorrow ~ and I feel a sudden sense of dread come over me when I realize I’m supposed to go there and meet Vanessa and Dustin ~ only I’m not sure when ~ so, I blurt out: “Take me with you ..!!” but he doesn’t have enough room ~ he’s got children, dogs, and supplies to last thru summer ~ and I tell myself ~ OK OK OK ~ stay cool ~ hang out here for a while ~ but afterwards ~ drive home like a maniac ~ go immediately online and start checking airfares. Either that or grab Matt’s cell phone and do it from in here.

Shocking

Not many people I know are comfortable talking to their kids about sex ..it makes them feel squeamish ..so they want the government to do it ..by censoring the media. That way, they tell me, their kids won’t get the ‘wrong idea’. Some still complain about how uncomfortable they felt watching television the day Janet Jackson revealed her breast. They said it was obscene, shocking and distasteful. After that, the FCC ..on orders from the Attorney General ..jacked-up the fine for anything considered ‘offensive’ from $25,000 to $450,000. This frightened TV broadcasters so badly that I often hear the expression ‘Goddamn’ bleeped out of movies on TV ..like Raiders of the Lost Ark ..where ‘Marion Ravenwood’ says to Indiana Jones: “..until I get back my five thousand dollars back, you're gonna get more than you bargained for ..I'm your *bleep bleep* partner”. I’m sorry but I don’t think ‘discomfort’ ..or even ‘distasteful’ means ‘obscene’. What it does seem to mean is hypocrisy and bullshit.

There’s a trial going on in federal court here in LA where an adult filmmaker is charged with distributing obscene material. It’s the first one in Southern California since Christian conservatives lobbied the Bush administration to crack down on this kind of thing. The jurors in this case are supposed to define ‘what’s obscene’. Prosecutors were planning to subject them to hour after hour of sexually explicit videos ..hoping to win ..and give the federal government the authority to set standards for entertainment across the land.

That is ..until they discovered the judge hearing this case was putting the same kind of material on his website. That’s when the hypocrisy and bullshit began to fly. First, the judge blames his son for putting it there ..then a fellow U.S. judge defends him by saying the only mistake he made was getting caught ..then another federal judge steps in and says it’s only wrong if he intended to share it with others ..then the original judge claims it is not ‘officially obscene’ ..but later says he must’ve uploaded the ‘obscene’ material by accident ..while trying to upload something wholesome ..he goes on to show how that can happen ..as if we didn’t already know ..or haven’t used that excuse ourselves.

My issue is not with the judge or his website. It’s with the parents, ministers and federal court judges who cannot engage in an honest dialog about sex ~ because the subject makes them feel ‘squeamish’. I guess my point is ..I don’t want squeamishness to be the basis for censorship. I believe we are all responsible for what goes on in our head. Better that we see things in a knowing and healthy manner than cover it up and feel shocked all the time.

Indy

A moment of lucidity ~ I’m enjoying the new Indiana Jones movie ~ but have to keep reminding myself what he’s after ~ crystal skulls ~ real-world entities that, according to legend, were made by the hands of other-world beings ~ beings who visited earth, before Columbus, and were worshipped as gods by the early Mayans ~ the skulls are said to have mystical properties that could put us in contact with their creators ~ I repeat this to stay grounded ~ and bring context and coherence to this high-speed adventure. It’s really spectacular. Afterwards, I ask my friend’s 10-year-old daughter if she caught the part where they reveal the meaning of the skulls ~ “uh, kinda” she says ~ “I like the part where they were flying through the jungle and sword fighting.” ~ You got it ..I tell her.

Language of squirrels

The Senate Intelligence Committee just released a report titled: ‘how the fuck did we get here’ or ‘what did Bush know and when did he know it.’ Most people think it’s a waste of time and I have to agree ..it’s like beating a dead horse. But, if you listen closely ..it reveals something about human nature ~ how susceptible we are to deceptive speech. It also supports my theory that the mind is a story-making device ..in the absence of substantial information ..it makes up shit (anyone interested in where this shit comes from ..click here ~~>theory). Although there was no Intelligence information to support it, President Bush continually implies a link between Hussein and 9/11.

“After September 11th, we’ve entered into a new era and a new war ..and Saddam Hussein is a man that we know has had connections with Al Qaeda.”

“Secretly, and without fingerprints, Hussein could provide his hidden weapons to terrorists, or help them develop their own.”

I have to give Bush credit ..although he implies these connections ..he never comes right out and makes them. He relies on his listeners to do that ..which they did ..a Washington Post survey found that over two-thirds (69%) of Americans believe they heard Bush say Saddam Hussein was behind the attacks of September 11. I also admire the way he squirreled out of it later by having Condoleezza Rice go on ABC’s Nightline and say: “We never claimed that Saddam Hussein had either direction or control of 9/11.”

More Victors

In my estimation, there are probably thousands more soldiers, like Victor, returning from Iraq with mental conditions that are too subtle to detect without long-term evaluation. I know that when the brain takes a hit ..the first thing to go is attention. The second is impulse-control. It looks to me like these two things are causing Victor’s problems. Much of the surface area of the brain is dedicated to reducing ‘out-of-scope’ activity ..allowing us to focus, and act, on what’s relevant. Anything that impairs this action can leave us open to signals that disrupt conscious experience. This may account for the way Victor misperceives his parents, cars and carbonation. Symptoms like these may not appear for months after a soldier returns home. What often brings them to the attention of health care providers are complaints from family and friends who say they are no longer following the ‘script’ of the wholesome teenager they once knew ..growing up in the sheltered community of Santa Barbara. Or, worse ..they’re not following the script of the ‘noble young man’ returning from war ..which is complete bullshit because there’s nothing in the background of a teenager growing up in Santa Barbara ..or Nebraska for that matter ..that will ever prepare them to counter the horrors of war and it’s aftermath. The long-term consequences of our policies in Iraq ..and the ‘stop-gap’ policy of recruitment ..will be felt by this generation of Americans for a long time to come.

Victor's war

Victor returned from Iraq last fall after suffering a ‘head trauma’. He was knocked unconscious by the shock of a roadside bomb while on patrol. At first he seemed OK ..just a ruptured eardrum and a little blurring in his left eye. His parents were relieved. He was an honors student in high school. However, after returning to college ..he couldn’t keep up with his studies. He claims he can’t remember a thing he reads. But tests found that he’s not having problems remembering ..he’s having problems concentrating. He can’t tune-in long enough to finish a sentence without being distracted ..either by noise from another room ..or conversations he had earlier that day. He’s acquired some form of adult ADD. He’s also having problems at home. He used to be a pretty easy-going guy ..but now he ‘flies off the handle’ easily. He can’t even tolerate his parents asking him how his day went ..sounds like an interrogation ..so he’s doesn’t answer anymore. He quit going to school ..and won’t go anywhere by car ..he says it looks like other drivers are trying to ram him. He also avoids beer and other carbonated beverages because the fizzy noise they make sounds like bullets whizzing by. He’s getting more heavily into drugs.

Foggy forest

A forest somewhere in the Pacific Northwest ~ sent by a friend

Cyber killer

Cyber killer .. q’est-ce que c’est ..? fa fa fa faaaa fa ..fa fa fa faaaa fa. An adult whose misconduct contributes to the death of a child has got to be guilty of something more than violating an Internet policy..! But apparently that’s all federal prosecutors can come up with in the case against Lori Drew, a 49 year old Missouri woman, whose malicious harassment on MySpace resulted in the death of a 13-year-old girl ..by suicide. I thought we already had laws on the books to protect children from this type of predatory behavior ..regardless of whether it’s done by direct contact ..telephone or computer. Now, I’m no legal expert ..but I know, from watching TV shows, that when somebody inadvertently dies during the commission of a crime ..it becomes a homicide. It’s no different than driving under the influence, or creating unsafe working conditions.

I realize that harassment isn’t always a crime. However ..what Lori Drew of Missouri was doing is considered particularly ‘predatory’ and definitely illegal. She posed as a 16-year-old boy named ‘Josh’ ..then proceeded to con ..pursue .. harass and torment 13-year-old Megan. This went on for several weeks. Now, I’m sure it wasn’t her intention to kill Megan ..but that’s not the intention of most drivers leaving the bar either. The amount of psychological trauma she inflicted was enough to drive the adolescent to hang herself in the bedroom. The last message she received from ‘Josh’ was: “the world would be a better place without you.”

Section HR 3402 of the “Violence against Women Act” is what makes this type of harassment a crime ..and which, in my opinion ..turns Megan’s suicide into a homicide. I don’t see this as a breach of ‘Internet protocol’ ..but an act of reckless endangerment by an adult contributing to the death of a child. Wouldn't detective Goran see it this way ..?

No pain

~raudulently creating a
~ySpace account and
~sing it to Cyber-bully ..

The letters at the beginning of each line are missing. I can’t get through the first paragraph with any comprehension. Takes so long to decipher the words that I lose my concentration ..get quickly distracted and forget what the article is about. I’ve looked back at the title for the third time now. I pull at the edges of the paper ..but there aren’t any creases in the way. Maybe the column got cropped during printing. I turn the paper upside down ..and letters pop up on the right-hand side ..but now the one’s on the new left-hand side are gone. I turn the paper right-side up ..and the letters fade ..disappear ..reappear ..disappear ..and the words ‘cataracts’ ‘torn retina’ ‘iconic amnesia’ ‘stroke’ and ‘tumor’ roll through my head. I sit back and shut my eyes ..when the real reason becomes apparent. There’s a lightening storm brewing behind my eyelids. I open my eyes and the lightening distorts whatever gets in front of it ..bending things upward ..around ..and out of sight. Twenty minutes later the storm passes and I continue reading ..greatly relieved. I’ve experienced this before and I actually feel pretty damn lucky because ..doctors have told me ..I’m experiencing a migraine ..only without the pain. If you can imagine that.

Cognitive impairment

Says here that people in National Security are accusing the Bush Administration of suffering from ‘cognitive impairment’ because of the way they handled ‘intelligence reports’ leading up to the Iraqi war. Now, I’m no expert on national security ..but I do know a little about cognitive impairment. In my opinion, the ‘cognitive impairment’ that led the Bush administration to believe Iraq was a threat ..is the same process that led the Roosevelt administration to believe Japan was not a threat ..and dismiss events leading up to the bombing of Pearl Harbor. I’m not so sure I would call this an ‘impairment’ however ..it’s more like a ‘cognitive strategy’: a strategy of selectively processing information that’s consistent with existing policies or pre-conceived ideas. We all do it to some extent ..it’s just that I expect our leaders to be less biased than the general population when it comes to interpreting world events. The Bush administration dismissed a whole heap of available evidence that did not support their policy of hostility toward Iraq. In the same fashion, the Roosevelt administration had plenty of intelligence reports indicating that Japan was planning to attack Pearl Harbor. They chose to ignore them because they did not support their policy of diplomacy with Japan.

Roosevelt later defends his blunder by denying that he received any warning about Japanese intentions ..claiming that none of the reports specifically mentioned Hawaii. Bush, on the other hand, makes his case by ‘hedging’ ..using ‘implication and innuendo’ to misrepresent the facts. It’s the same strategy used by attorneys when they want to avoid being charged with perjury once the truth be known. How admirable when politicians stoop to these tactics..! Although Bush implies the possibility of a link between Hussein and September 11 ..he never actually makes one. What he says is: “ ..Saddam Hussein has had connections with Al Qaeda.” Not “ ..Saddam Hussein is connected with September 11.” Even Condoleezza Rice had to go on ABC’s Nightline in their defense saying: “We never claimed that Saddam Hussein ..had either direction or control of 9/11.” Now, I find these statements comforting ..! You can rest assured there’s no evidence of ‘cognitive impairment’ affecting this administration ..just the usual signs of deception ..betrayal ..and greed.

Politics of fear

I predict that McCain will beat Obama in the general election this November. Why do I say this ..? Even though I consider myself an independent ..history shows that military leadership trumps intelligence. I mean, look at what happened to Adlai Stephenson when he ran against Dwight Eisenhower in the 1950’s ..or Eugene McCarthy when he ran against the Vietnam War in the 60’s.

Although Obama is more popular with the general population, a poll taken by the independent Pew Research Center found that white working-class Americans identify more with McCain. The majority of these Americans think Obama is too ‘intellectual’ or not ‘sufficiently mainstream’ (for some, ‘Obama’ is simply a funny-sounding name). Last week, a Bloomberg poll found that the majority of white middle-class voters prefer McCain over Obama 45% to 41%.

How do I explain these findings ..? Although Americans are more educated than before ..census shows that middle-class Americans are still largely under-educated ..at most, only 15% finish college (which is higher than 10% back in my day). What does this mean ..? (Besides the fact that I’m a poll-freak) It means that ‘critical thinking’ is not a value shared by many middle-class Americans. We resist new ideas ..rely on old-fashion ideology ..and prefer a leader who’ll protect us from the ‘unknown’. So, while the ‘unknown’ is a territory we all share ..it definitely covers more ground for the segment of the population that lacks a higher education. As a result, mainstream America is susceptible to the politics of fear and ignorance ..which definitely favors the party in power.

(I realize that this post is chock-full of over-generalizations and bias ~ a heap full of apologies to anyone I offended)

John Fogerty

Tonight I caught part of the John Fogerty concert that I missed last week while I was at the KT Tunstall concert. He’s on KCET soundstage ~ which I will put down whatever I’m doing to go and watch whenever it comes on. I never saw a ‘Credence’ concert when I was a kid ~ but friends of mine who did always came back and told me they were hot. “Wish someone had told me before the show” I remember Gil say “..they blew me away.” This was before the era of readily available information ~ so, we all thought they were a bunch of Arkansas hillbilly kids who went to the big city and became successful playing the kind of music they grew up with ~ songs like ‘Born on the Bayou’ or ‘Proud Mary’ ~ that is until I started reading Rolling Stone magazine and found out that they were a group of California kids raised in San Francisco. Didn’t matter ..it just went to show me how easy it is to believe my own bullshit ..especially when a couple more people agree.

KT Tunstall

Wonderful day ..especially if you’re into music the way I am. There’s the Stagecoach Festival in Indio ..John Fogerty at the County Bowl ..and KT Tunstall at the Marjorie Luke Theater. I chose to see KT Tunstall ..which is way-cool because, to my surprise ..it’s all-acoustic ..! Kind of like watching MTV unplugged ..which is a real treat for me ..being the folkie that I am. And it’s so intimate in here ..it's like watching her perform inside a junior high auditorium ..oh wait, this is a junior high auditorium. Her latest CD, which I really like, is mainly rock ..but, those same songs sound almost country when you hear them played on an upright bass and slide guitar. Reminds me of the time I saw the Flying Burrito Brothers at the Fox Theater ..which still ranks as one of my top-five favorite concert experiences .. they showed Laurel and Hardy clips between sets ..which launched me into hysterical fits of laughter.

This show, however, is even better ..!

Roberto

I’ve been working-out at the high school football stadium these days ..using the track and climbing the stairs. It’s a pretty cool-looking place ..bowl-shaped with lots of old stone work and giant trees .. I can even walk to it. This evening I could hear someone singing “I LOVE ROCK ‘N ROLL ..” so loud it echoed. When I get there, I see him sitting way up on the top row .. stomping his feet and pounding his fist to the music ..he looks kinda’ big and menacing, so I decide to walk around and go up another set of stairs ..when I stop and go ..nah, I can’t let people scare me like this ..so, I go up the stairs that go right by him. When he sees me coming .. he smiles real bright, through his goatee, and shouts: “These iPods are great ..I love music, man ..any kinda’ music ..it doesn’t matter ..!” I go: “Sounds like you’re listening to Joan Jett” He presses the button .. squints into the display .. then looks back at me and shouts: “You’re right ..man! You know, I’m mainly into the songs .. I don’t always pay attention to who does ‘em”. “What else you got there ..?” I ask. “OK, wait ..lemme see ..I got songs by Metallica ..Guns ‘n Roses ..Billy Idol ..Blondie ..” “Anything by Melissa Etheridge ..?” “Uh, no ..who’s that ..?” “Doesn’t matter ..got any rap?” “Yeah, I got Snoop Dog ..Beastie Boys ..and ..Hey man ..whatchu’ like lissin’n’ to ..?” “Ummm, different stuff ..lemme see ..uh, alot of Bob Dylan lately.” “I heard of him ..what’s he like ..?” “He’s folk rock ..” I say. He looks puzzled, so I go: “You know, it’s almost like rap” and I do my goofy impression of Dylan singing ‘Subterranean Homesick Blues’: “Johnny’s in the basement ~ mixin’ up the medicine ~ I’m on the pavement ~ thinkin’ ‘bout the government ..” His eyes get real big ..his face lightens up ..and he throws his head back and laughs, going: “Whooah, that’s awesome dude ..” and I go: “Yeah, he was like one of the first street-poets ..ever see the movie 8-mile with Eminem ..?” and he’s like “Yeah Yeah ..so he’s one of those guys who can just open their mouth and the words roll right out ..” He gestures with his hand like someone vomiting. “Exactly ..!” I say ..and I’m about to continue stair-climbin’ when he goes: “Hey man, I got some h e r b ..wouldcha’ like to join me ..?”

Now, I’m sitting on top of the stairs ..watching the sunset ..feeling a warm Santa Ana wind on my face ..and listening to Roberto tell me stories about his high school days: “Man, I used to play football right down there ..” he gestures wildly down at the field below ..then he looks around and points to a group of trees “..and we used to get high over there .. between periods ..man, history class never sounded more i n t e r e s t i n g ..” I go: “Yeah, it can open your eyes to a lot of different stuff ..(?)” He goes on to tell me about his own family history. His father is from Durango Mexico ..where he married his mom ..and moved to Juarez ..by the Texas border. They just happened to be visiting friends in El Paso when Roberto was born ..making him an honorary US citizen. Clever ol’man I say to myself ..and I can see that Roberto is proud. I go: “That’s soo cool ..it’s like you know your story man” (or something lame like that ..when you know you’re getting too stoned to understand yourself). Roberto goes on to tell me that he used to be a gang-banger ..a ‘nubber’ he calls it. “What’s that ..?” I ask “A skull cracker ..” he says ..and I’m thinking ..hmmm, probably served him well on the football field down there. He tells me about an event that occurred when he was thirty that changed his life. He got a job working security at the Bowl. Before one of the shows, he was stopping traffic to let the concert-goers pass by ..when he sees this lunatic cross the street .. stumbling ..limping on a bad knee ..leaning on his girlfriend for support ..yelling obscenities ..picking fights ..shouting at his girlfriend ..and not making much sense ..except to Roberto ..who saw himself a few years down the road if he kept doing what he was doing. So, he stopped hanging with the gang .. and cut his alcohol consumption waaaayyy back (now he waits till he gets to the bar before drinking). Says he lost a lot of friends ..but doesn’t mind. “I like it where I’m at right now” he says ..and I tell him: “It sounds like a good place, my friend”

Albert Hofmann

Ironically enough, three days after my post on the topic of mind-altering substances (Sunday, April 27) ..Albert Hofmann, a Swiss Pharmacologist and foremost expert in the field ..passed-away. He was 102. On April 16, 1943 ~ Albert accidentally ingested the first batch of LSD ever made. He was looking for medication to help improve blood circulation. The event altered the course of his life. He became an expert on psychoactive ingredients in plants all around the world ..including the psilocybin mushroom used in South American Indian ceremonies. He took more than 50 ‘acid trips’ himself ..claiming: “Before then, I had always believed there was only one reality ..under LSD, however, I discovered other realities that were just as real ..if not more real ..than the one I’d been living.” I pay homage to Dr. Hofmann ..a true modern-day pioneer. Although we usually think of ‘pioneers’ as people who discover new frontiers on land or in space ..I think it applies just as much to those who explore the uncharted territories of the mind.

Further investigation

Continued from [link]

That fall, I returned to school with a topic for my ‘senior thesis’ ..I wanted to find a ‘neuro-scientific’ basis for hallucinatory experience. My academic advisors were pleased ..it seemed like I was doing something ‘grounded’ for a change. However, I had another purpose in mind ..I wanted to describe the benefits of the ‘peyote ceremony’ that is practiced in South American Indian cultures ..and suggest how it might be a useful way to understand the behaviour of people like Charlie. I was also beginning to detect a cycle in my own life. It fluctuated between a need for order and stability ..followed by fits of rebellion against order and stability. I think this cycle is universal ..and I thought that the Indian cultures had found a less destructive way to deal with it.

Humans crave information and novel experience. Our senses are receptive to an infinite number of possibilities. However, the higher brain centers are designed to narrow-down these options in order to give us a stable state of consciousness. The peyote ceremony is, in a sense, a ‘guided’ exploration into alternate states of consciousness. The active ingredient in Peyote disables the filters of the brain and allows more sensory information to pass through ..which results in an experience of extra-ordinary reality. The peyote ceremony ends with a period of guided ‘re-entry’ that allows participants to integrate these extra-ordinary experiences with the reality of everyday life. I wanted to show how these guided peyote sessions could serve as a model for treating mental illness (without the peyote of course) .. and how they could also prevent the ‘crash-landings’ ..and reduce the havoc that characterizes recreational use of hallucinogens in the US.

In the end, my instructors liked the ‘neurological-model’ I described ..however, they didn’t think much of the case I made for the virtue of peyote ceremonies. One of them did ask how much of it was based on personal experience.

See for yourself ~>[Senior Thesis].

Crazy Charlie

While other members of my peer-group were spending summers at the mall ..I was hanging out with my college buds in Laguna Beach ..it had a cool point-break and was ‘the place’ for mind-altering recreation. So, while followers of fashion were racking up credit card debt .. I was sitting on the beach soaking up the elements. One evening ..after a day in the surf ..we were sitting around a fire. I remember watching Charlie ..standing in about two feet of water .. calling to somebody out there ..like waayyy out there .. yelling: “Can you hear me ..?” “Can you hear me ..?” “Yeah ..I thought so”. Then he fell to his knees and hollered “Caam uhrn” (which I later learned meant ‘thank you’ in Vietnamese). I asked my Compañeros what Charlie was on. They said ‘nothing’ ..because they knew better than letting him near anything that might contribute to his condition. But, at that moment, I would have given anything to see what he was seeing ..because he looked so tuned-in. He was living with something I didn’t have ..calm in the face of the unknown. After that, my own ‘training’ ..dealing with theories of ‘rational behaviour’ ..seemed like a web of vague ideas .. real life passed through it like water ..the only thing keeping it together was .. vanity. Here we were trying to help people overcome their delusions ..when I couldn’t even tell what kept me from accepting my own delusions as real. I’m not so sure there’s that much difference between ‘delusions’ and my own ‘simulated’ view of reality.

Continued ~>[link]

Crazy Charlie (continued from below)

He beat the rap ..the cops just wanted to know if he was OK ..or if they were dealing with a homicide or something. The driver had no idea who Charlie was ..he’d picked him up hitchhiking. Now, I’ve known Charlie since I was in college ..when he was a Vietnam vet going to school on the GI bill ..and I was a kid fresh out of high school without a clue. Charlie was studying psychology because he wanted to understand some of the things the army had put in his case file before he was discharged. I told him I’d like to see some of those things too. So, one day he brought it to school for me to read. It said things like: “..subject suffers from unresolved Oedipal complex and separation anxiety ..which accounts for distrust of authority.” I thought; man, this sounds medieval ..it has no relevance to modern-day psychology ..and makes no mention of ‘post-traumatic-stress’ ..which, I suspected, was a lot more relevant to Charlie’s case. I may not have known much back then ..but I could clearly see that Charlie was still fighting a war.