Dear Greatness, SA:
I had this muse and thought of you.
When I said before that music for me is like puberty II, I can expand on that to say that in general I’m always struggling to catch up to the past. Meanwhile, moments in the present fly by. What was that? In 20 to 40 years I might could begin to get a grip on the present of today. At the moment, though, I’m still trying to cope with adolescence, trying to marshal together the tools to meet that emergency. Music, for example, might be a means by which a socially awkward nerdy kid might could break out of terrible lonely isolation.
I know that I’d never get a bit of traction on this claim within our present Christio-fascist culture, but for a certain part of the population, an hallucinogenic trip can be advantageous. I’m not Belzabub here trying to lure you onto that path with “Come on, it’ll make you feel reaalll good.” No. I don’t recommend it. Especially as you can’t know how it’ll affect your personal brain chemistry. For another certain proportion of people, the results can be disastrous and permanent. And don’t go messing with a good thing, your mind. And yes, my generation has a lot to answer for in inviting in the drug culture. It seemed kind of like a cute little thing at the time but then very rapidly grew into a nation eating monster that craps out tooth rotted hulls of former humans. But still. For a certain part of the population the hallucinogenic trip provided genuine insights. That’s my claim and I’m sticking to it. I’m not talking about the amphetamines, nor the opiates, nor alcohol – the drug of Christianity, just the hallucinogen.
And in any case, it seems like in every culture in every time people have gone out of their way to trip out, even when it required ingesting vile stuff and a whole lot of puking and so on. What’s the attraction? There’s a glimpse only but a glimpse of what it’s like to get in sync with the cosmos as it’s going by right this instant. Right now. That insight was delightfully and playfully rendered in Richard Alpert’s “Be Here Now.”
Those who’ve been there have a shared experience maybe a tiny bit analogous to having lived in a cult. Those who’ve never been there can’t know the attraction. Not that it’s anything to recommend it but there is a genuine kernel of genuine insight.
It begs the question, is there any kind of philosophy and/or discipline by which you could be here now all the time?
Me, I kind of go in cycles on that question. I go for long periods of time where I’m in the Frank Zappa consciousness mode, as in “Look here brother, who you jiving with that cosmic debris?” and where I’m fairly certain that life consists of a few laughs along with mostly pain, aggravation, boredom, lonliness, your occasional moments of sheer terror, a few lovely orgasms, death, and taxes.
Now and then, though, I run across a certain sort of a dad gummed character who reminds one that maybe the possibilities are limitless. You, Greatness. You remind me.
Yours, Charles
And remember, Jesus likes you.