How I Accidentally Started the Drug Culture in 1962

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When we enter How I Accidentally Started the Sixties, it is 1962, and our hero, a 19-year old named Howard Bloom is barefoot with a Harpo Marx haircut of a kind unknown to Western Civilization for roughly 300 years.  The Beatles haven’t arrived to make long hair acceptable yet, and even when they will, their mop-tops will not emerge from their scalps like foot-long worms curled in terminal pain.  Bloom is seeking Zen Buddhist enlightenment, Satori.  To find it, he is hitchhiking and illegally riding freight trains up and down the West Coast,  carrying a thoroughly disreputable sleeping bag packed with food and a five gallon Clorox jug filled with Kool Aid. Deceived by the notion that he has answers when, in fact, all he has is questions, a smattering of otherwise sensible humans have dropped out of their jobs and their college courses and followed Bloom to Berkeley, California, where they’ve holed up in a big, pink condemned house three blocks from the Berkeley University campus and have adopted a new clothing style: 24/7 nudity. Meanwhile, a fist-hard woman with red hair and a deliciously slender frame has dragged Bloom from Berkeley to San Pedro, California, for a month.  But…

 

The time had come to leave San Pedro and head back to the Bay Area, where my clan had by now abandoned its big, pink, condemned house and found new quarters in the heart of San Francisco’s black ghetto. The super-slum neighborhood of choice was called The Fillmore district, but Bill Graham wouldn’t discover it for another three or four years, so at the moment, we were the only people in the district whose faces had the reflective qualities that make your cheeks and chin clearly visible at night. The rent for the new abode was dirt cheap, because the spacious seven-room apartment was on the fourth floor of a building whose first two stories had been burned to a fine ash, leaving only several columns of questionable strength holding up the higher floors and a stairway that wobbled in the wind, but with care could convey the intrepid to the two surviving stories, the two remaining apartments in the sky.

Trailing me as I left San Pedro was an 18-year-old who had become hypnotized by my tales of seeking the spiritual holy grail and insisted on leaving his summer job at the post-office, his future as a college student, his horrified middle-class parents, and, so far as I could see, his sanity.

The two of us set out for the open road, and sure enough were blessed with instant luck. A brand new blue Chevrolet, the kind that in those days— before a luxury automobile was downsized to fit on a charm bracelet and manufactured in Germany or Japan—could do 120 miles per hour, pulled over and offered us a ride all the way to SF. Well, actually, it wasn’t the car that made the offer. It was the kid inside, a 19 or 20 year-old in a genuine cheap suit who said it was his dad’s car, and that he’d been attending a business convention in San Diego. Now in those days, I was the only person from Buffalo, New York, over the age of 16 who had never gotten a driver’s license. But I LOVED to stomp my left foot on an accelerator. Miracle of miracles, the driver said he was tired, and asked if one of us would mind taking the wheel…he wanted to take a nap. I couldn’t wait to sidle into the pilot’s seat, which I did with the swiftness of a lizard insisting that a fast-moving bug enjoy the hospitality of its mouth.

Then our host, yawning from the back seat, asked if we’d mind pulling the car into a filling station and putting some gas in the tank. He’d pay for the fuel, he said, but someone had stolen his wallet at the convention and his credit cards were all gone. My post-office runaway acolyte and I pooled our spare change, pulled into a station, and purchased $2.33 cents worth of nourishment for the machine’s innards. When the attendant asked us to turn off the engine, we discovered we couldn’t. There were no keys. We asked our genial friend, who was laying so low in the back that you’d have thought he was auditioning to be a carpet, where the keys were. “Oh,” he whispered, “they were in my wallet when it was nabbed.”

The gas jockey kindly agreed to dole out a few drinks to our thirsty gas-guzzler despite the fact that its pistons were still spitting internal bursts of flame.

Then we set off on our travels again, glorying in the realization that it was 2:30 AM. Why? Because this meant the six-lane highway was almost totally empty, and I could methodically test the technical limits of the engines they shoved into Chevys. Frankly, it wasn’t a bad little V-8. It cruised comfortably at 115 mph. I didn’t take it much above that speed. After all, I was driving illegally, and I didn’t want to push my luck.

Our only bad fortune came when we were barreling down the tarmac and some vehicle bore down upon us from behind flashing ominous red lights. “Oh, my God,” I thought, “the cops.” So I hit the brakes like a sledgehammer, decelerating at a rate that nearly tossed our heads through the windshield. This was not, it turned out, a wise move. The thing behind us had no ability to slow down at a commensurate speed. As our rapid descent in velocity brought the vehicle on our tail to within about thirty feet of our back bumper, I finally made out in the rear view mirror exactly what it was—a Mack truck bigger than Darth Vader’s death star hurtling toward us at 120 miles an hour. It had red-lighted us as a signal to move to the right and let it pass. Thank God Chevys in those days could accelerate. I smashed the gas pedal half-way through the floorboards and we gathered momentum fast enough to avoid becoming just another squashed bug on the Mack’s already insect-littered grill.

We hit the San Francisco area just as the sun was coming up and all the early-morning commuters were emerging to park their cars on the highway. But we made it through the morass, finally dropped ourselves off at my coven’s new location, and thanked the guy in the back seat profusely for the ride.

It was only as we were climbing the swaying stairs to the new apartment that I began to put two and two and two together to get six (arithmetic has never been my strong point, as you’ll recall from my numerous similarities to Albert Einstein). The guy with the Chevy had no money, no keys, and had made damned sure he wasn’t driving the car. In fact, while he made himself respectable by wearing a suit and looking inconspicuously horizontal, he positioned this guy at the wheel whose overgrown haircut and shoeless approach to sartorial elegance would make him highly suspicious in the eyes of guys in blue uniforms. The car was STOLEN!

And here I’d been flying it across the desert at slightly subsonic speeds WITHOUT A LICENSE. If we’d been caught, the car’s “owner” would simply have claimed that HE’D been the hitchhiker, we’d picked HIM up, and if there was a theft involved, surely WE must have been the ones to pull it off.

But due to some happy accident, instead of landing in the slammer, we were safe at home (assuming the stairs held up until we could get to the top floor, and that the four scorched steel posts supporting what was left of the building didn’t buckle). Maybe there WAS a God after all!

At any rate, we made it to the upper stories and let ourselves in to the new, unlocked apartment, which was as still as a midnight church on New Year’s Eve, when good Christians are too busy getting plastered to worship anything that doesn’t come in a bottle. The floor was littered with nondescript lumps of fabric. At first the early morning light made it difficult to puzzle out exactly what they were. Then one of the bundles came alive. The heaps of rags were sleeping bags.

The first head to pop out was that of Carol Maynard, the highly tactile female who had found me “cat-like” and had welcomed me to her interior pleasure dome. She screamed my name with a heart-toasting delight, and dashed out of her textile cocoon, totally naked, flinging her arms around me in glee. Her voice woke the others, and within seconds, over a dozen equally unclothed bodies, male and female, had piled themselves in a giant hugging mound around me. It was nice to feel wanted.

When the human heap disbanded, I tried to introduce my follower from San Pedro to the crowd, only to discover he had disappeared. A brisk search revealed him sitting on the creaking stairs with his head in his hands, the victim of traumatic shock. He’d never seen a naked female before without a staple in her navel, and the sight of a whole tribe of them had thrown him into panic. “I don’t think I can take this,” he groaned. Within an hour, he was on the highway trying to thumb his way back to San Pedro, his parents, and his job at the post-office. His spiritual quest, had been, how should we say this… brief.

I reentered the apartment, distressed that we’d upset the kid so profoundly. But my friends had incredible news to share. They had discovered the magic elixir that unlocked the secrets of the universe, the mystic potion that allowed those in psychic pain to descend into the basement of the human mind and straighten out the plumbing, the lens through which the wonders of the universe could be seen in all their glory. It was the stuff the graduate biochem students at Berkeley had learned to synthesize in their spare time. These scholars had been kind enough to make their magic formula available to the world, sweetened and wrapped in handy, reusable aluminum foil. For this act of kindly sorcery, they were charging a mere pittance—$5.00 a cube. Their key to the secrets of a painfully tangled cosmos was called LSD.

LSD! I recognized the name immediately. It was lysergic acid diethylamide, the stuff Aldous Huxley (or was it Julian?) had lectured about on the BBC when I’d been glued to my bed as a high school student worshipping at the shrine of my antique wooden Crosley radio.

What’s more, my companions had managed to get their hands on genuine buttons of peyote cactus—not the dried and shredded remains Reed College students had baked the potency out of and placed in gelatin capsules, but the genuine article, looking like each bud had just been hand-plucked from the nearest swollen Lophophora Williamsii plant. And, miracle of miracles, this stuff had the same kind of mind-unpeeling effect as LSD!

So the next morning, the time arrived to embark on my first Fantastic Voyage (unfortunately, without the scientific assistance of Raquel Welch) and to follow Huxley into the brave new world of the cosmic interior.

First my companions gave me culinary tips. Peyote cactus tastes about as yummy as fresh-stewed salmonella. Some advised covering it with ketchup. Others recommended blending it in a milk shake. But everyone agreed, no human could eat it raw and survive the mutinous violence of raped and ravaged taste buds. So I decided to be brave and munch the stuff without condiments or secret sauce. Indeed, it did taste as if the luckless plant had died of gangrene, and now my mouth was on the verge of following its example. But I brushed my teeth and lived.

A half an hour later, as I lay on the floor in my sleeping bag, the window facing the street turned into the conning tower of the Starship Enterprise. The apartment soared through space, looking for fresh planets to conquer. But outer space wasn’t the dark place it’d been cracked up to be. It was filled with California sunshine.

Then I noticed the way the sunlight hit the walls. The colors didn’t seem as permanent as usual. They shifted from pink to green to purple, depending on a slight tweak of the control knobs in your mind. I removed a panel from the mental control board, and tried to watch the machinery at work. Sure enough, color wasn’t some external absolute. It was filled in artificially by a network of neuronal machinery between the surface of my eye and my brain as if the busy sensory cells were children crayoning between the empty outlines in a coloring book. And which crayons they used was something you could fiddle with.

I poked around a little further in the tangled circuitry below my consciousness. Sure enough, just like all the mystics and Zen masters had said, way down at the bottom of my brain was a small source of spontaneity, spitting out instant reactions to everything in sight. But those responses were strapped into a wheelchair and whisked through a massive hospital of spin doctors before they were spilled, after some delay, into my carefully tailored awareness. They were checked for social acceptability, plastic-surgeried to fit my notions of my self, given a haircut to appeal to the folks around me, sartorially inspected to make sure they wouldn’t make me look like a fool, then, only after a careful reworking in the makeup department and a final quality check, were they handed an official script and allowed to step out onto the stage of my mind to recite their reshaped tidings.

So THAT’S how the whole thing worked?!!?

Then I stared at the ceiling and began to visualize masterworks Botticelli and Van Gogh had never imagined, creations that were mine, all mine. I wanted to grab a brush and palette and get them down on paper. But, in fact, I hadn’t been capable of moving a muscle for over an hour. Next, I opened my mouth, let out a soft “ooooh,” and noticed the sound of my voice. What an intriguing noise! I varied the pitch. The fresh resonance was fantastic. For half an hour, I lay there “ooohing,” oblivious to the fact that other folks in the room might find this lengthy series of variations on a whale call slightly disconcerting.

Eventually, the fascination with the finer nuances of the external senses and the interior mind wore off, and I tried to move. I put on some shorts, and went outdoors. But I had fallen drastically down the evolutionary ladder and was bent over like an Australopithecus. If I’d had my druthers, I’d have knuckle-walked. However your average pre-ice-age throwback was taken perfectly for granted on the sidewalks of San Francisco.

Those are the good parts. My mind has been kind enough to erase the bad ones, but they were legion. Every conceivable demon came crawling out of my internal depths to sculpt its personal mini-hell from the putty of my conscious mind. Every psychic pain ever imagined by man sloshed boiling oil on the tender walls of my skull’s interior. Twenty four hours later, I realized that I had been given the greatest tour of the human brain in my life. I had learned things about my inner workings that would forever alter my outlook on life. But I also knew I’d been dragged through circles of hell even Dante had been unable to imagine, and I never wanted to take the stuff again. I never did.

That may have been a mistake. Some years later, Solomon Snyder, discoverer of endorphins and opiate receptors, would confess that he’d briefly plunged in where I’d left off and had emerged with a Nobel Prize.

On subsequent nights, I would see Carol Maynard take these prettily putrid nubbins of cactus and lay on the floor at what were allegedly parties, going through alternate cycles of death and resurrection. One moment she’d be in heaven, wide-eyed at its wonders. The next she’d be in hell’s incinerator, writhing with a pain there was nothing I could do to soothe. Little did any of us suspect it at the time, but she was taking her first steps into a desperate world.

Peyote was just the overture. The opera would come with more LSD. We stocked up for a grand expedition to Big Sur to try the stuff out. All dozen of us were slated for the trip. Some semi-stranger I never met had said we could use his lean-to on the cliffs overlooking the ocean. We’d stay there for two days. We needed all the steaks and Fig Newtons we could get our hands on. I took the responsibility for raiding the local supermarkets (I also used to do a lot of cooking for our assembled horde in those days; just call me Mother Bloom). Then, through some means of transportation I’ve long since forgotten (all I know is that Scotty didn’t beam us there), we ended up on the wild and nearly untouched shores of the Pacific.

Our lean-to was just that. It had a roof and one measly wall for the overhang to lean on. But the three empty spaces where the walls of a more complete building would have been had a terrific view. If you swung your gaze to the right, you looked north along the narrow cliff ridge that hung out over the beach 300’ feet below. If you swung your head left, you looked south to a ridge that swept in a gentle curve and posted a stone parapet far out in the ocean two or three miles away. If you looked straight out, you stared west over the corduroy-gray waves that eventually led—if you happened to be a purposeful and persistent porpoise—to Hawaii. Behind your head and the lean-to’s single wall were mountains covered with evergreens.

I’d read Robinson Jeffers’ poems on Big Sur, but it was still hard to believe that any human except for the Tarzan who had built our lean-to had ever been here.

We opened our first morning with a breakfast featuring fruit, cereal, milk and fortified sugar cubes…all your basic food groups, plus a tad of extra nutrient for the brain. Then we took off our clothes to hike down the cliff and visit the beach, despite the fact that your most intrepid mountain goat wouldn’t have dared navigate that particular precipice without a parachute.

But we had all the confidence in the world. I mean, the sugar cubes hadn’t discombobulated our cerebella yet, and we were in pretty good shape. Granted, none of us had ever climbed anything more complicated than an escalator, but what’s the big deal about some measly overhang the height of the Sears Tower with nothing but rocks—mostly sharp ones—at the bottom? So down we scrambled, one after the other, unprotected by even an athletic supporter with an inflatable air bag.

Miracle of miracles, we were all doing pretty well, finding tree roots to dangle from and rock ledges three inches wide on which to rest our naked toes. Then, about half way down, a strange thing happened. Somebody kicked open those old doors of perception and invited us in. The Mad Hatter poured tea, the dormouse complained about being locked in the wrong pot (he would have preferred cannabis), Alice was a little confused but otherwise very charming, though I must confess she was a bit young for me, and the rabbit seemed in a big hurry about something, probably having a hard time waiting for Alice to gain a few years and grow breasts.

But I didn’t have time for Lewis Carroll. My mind was too busy with Robert Louis Stevenson. I had been transformed into Ben Gunn, the hermit of the mountain, the miraculous old Treasure Island goat-man who could climb any vertical surface on the planet, then turn around and spit so accurately that he could hit a pirate in the eye from nearly a half a mile up (which is no mean feat when you consider that pirates only have one eye—the other is covered with a black patch; what’s more, if you’re an animal lover, you have to avoid spraying fugitive droplets on the blaggard’s parrot).

Unfortunately, Mr. Gunn, despite his years of experience, had gotten himself into a bit of trouble. Just as he’d come to life, his host, the genial and ever-generous Howard Bloom, had done something dumb. He’d stepped carefully from one tiny outcrop to another until he’d found himself on a six-foot-long by two-inch-wide ledge. A perfect place to stop and rest, except for one minor flaw. There were no footholds below for a good 20 feet. It was a clean, sheer drop. And the niches that had provided the path down to this wonderful launch site had mysteriously disappeared, leaving no way to go back up and try again. Yes, I seemed to have two alternatives. Stay there until I turned ninety, hoping that Saint Francis’s birds would feed me. Or entertain myself with the three-second drop to my doom.

Who the hell knows how I got out of this? I certainly don’t. Old Ben Gunn must have taken over, because somehow I ended up sidling to the far end of the ledge and by a miracle beyond the powers of all the virgins of Lourdes, found another crack into which I could wedge my toe and start the descent down again.

When I finally reached the bottom, I and my companions were too stoned to realize how astonishing it was that we were still alive. Embracing us was the strangest beach we had ever seen. It was solid black. There was no sand, just round, ebony pebbles. The entire expanse was a mere 200 feet across. The reason? The beach was shaped like a slivery moon—medium deep in the center, but narrowing to tiny points toward the ends. Sealing the crescent off on either side were thin stone walls a hundred feet high jutting like the flying buttresses of a cathedral into the sea. And the ocean, not content to be outdone by this architectural bravura, was tossing waves the height of bungalows at the buttress’ far ends, smashing like Poseidon’s fists on a morning when he couldn’t find his favorite swim fins.

Meanwhile, the chemical potion had pulled one of its specialties: reworking the fabric of time. Enough fantasies to program 110 cable channels for a month went flashing through our brains in roughly three seconds. Then we’d shift our eyes in a new direction, and another month of scripts would fast-forward through our interior picture tubes. There was only one problem. We were the starring characters in every teleplay, which meant we were switching identities at the rate of about one per nanosecond.

I had reverted to my australopithecine l condition again, and was walking the beach on all fours, testing the ground with my front paw while my remaining limbs formed a sturdy tripod holding me hunchedly horizontal and waiting for the test results from the probing forward paw to come in. This proved very handy when climbing through the narrow 20’-foot long by three-foot wide cave-slits in the towering outcrops of rock that separated the crescent-shaped beaches from each other, since any piece of shale you put your foot on could carry you like a toboggan into the sea. That faithful antenna of the fourth limb up ahead kept you from accompanying some mineral super-sled into the waves. And these waves were not the kind you’d want to mess with. They’d have whisked you to a farewell vacation in the mixing bowl at Club Cuisinart.

Then we discovered limpets. These are dainty half-clams that cling to the rocks. Pry one off, and you can watch the naked creature at work inside, a pink bit of flesh puckering up its lips in the hope of sucking solid surface and feeding on algae. I’m afraid we were not very humane about these innocent beasts. We pried them out of their shells, still lip-synching to records only they could hear, and ate them. Meanwhile, the entire evolution of the universe flashed through our minds in an animation drawn by Disney, directed by Spielberg, and garnished with special effects by the team that would someday make Star Wars.

Perched on the base of one of the stone buttresses that stretched far out into the sea, with waves thundering around as they ground rocks into sand and reached their spray-tipped fingers up to grab us if they could, I had my big insight for the day. I was with Alice, the ravishing brunette of a previous episode who had been lured into our group by Dick Hoff’s charms. I was still very, very shy about sex, and felt that there was something essentially evil about being male, something deeply malevolent about wanting women in a physical way. Images of masculine figures flashed through my mind, villains with curling mustaches whose unspeakable sin had been their lust for the body of an innocent heroine.

Then I remembered a little Pakistani businessman who had picked up Hoff, Carol Maynard and me one day when we’d been hitchhiking in the San Francisco area. The Pakistani had invited us to spend the night in his home, and since we were apartment-hunting at the time (the deal on the burned-out abode had yet not crossed our path) and had no place else to sack out, we’d accepted his generous offer.

Our host fed us a very nice dinner, which he cooked himself, since his wife seemed to be out of town. Then he began to drink. When he got sufficiently potted, he asked Carol to sleep with him. He was little and round and the sort of person who, when he’s clothed, wears a suit and tie, and Carol did not find him the least bit appealing. Plus, believe it or not, she did not sleep with men on the first date. In fact, she didn’t date at all. She had reserved her body for Hoff, with a little bit of me thrown in when things looked desperate.

Carol was terrified. Dick, who was the epitome of kindness, protected her, but did it while trying not to hurt the Pakistani’s feelings. But the little Paki was oozing the pain of sexual frustration from every pore. As he had a few more drinks, he started to shed his clothes. First the tie, then the shirt, then the pants, and finally the underwear. His paunch was astonishingly round. His body hair was like the decoration on the Taj Mahal. It curled in elegant swirls around his navel and his nipples.

He began to walk in circles, holding his penis, bleating pathetically, “Why won’t she sleep with me? Why won’t she sleep with me?” Horniness is much too flippant a word for sexual deprivation. It does nothing to capture the state’s agonies. I identified with this man. His was the plight of 95% of the males on the planet, but it had been removed from beneath the floorboards where it is normally hidden and allowed to parade its misery for a moment in plain sight.

Dick protected Carol all night. I wished I could make this man feel better, but I simply couldn’t short of sexual contact, something I, like Carol, preferred to avoid. Our Pakistani host continued to amble in his circular path. Then he finally gave up, whimpering, and went off to his bedroom to practice his passing out. The next morning we left, with an image of something terribly basic tattooed on my frontal lobes. Naked, painful, unfulfillable sexual need.

Hunched on the outcrop of rock with Alice, while the sea tried to snatch us into oblivion, I BECAME the little Pakistani. I was pathetic and frustrated and I wanted sex. Not that Alice was unwilling. This was in the days before I’d tested her trellis, and I’d never dared ask. Then I realized that the nightmare of being cast in the body of an Asian inmate from sexual purgatory was telling me something. I had sexual needs just like everybody else. But I had been frightened to admit them to myself, much less do anything about them. My image of male sexuality as villainous, something that would get you kicked out of the cosmos and frozen in nothingness, might just be wrong. When I was attracted to a woman, I needed to face up to the fact and attempt to win her over, preferably charming her sufficiently so that I could enjoy a conversation unencumbered by the obstacle of her clothes.

Sometimes I learn lessons with the speed of a decorticated snail, but this time I got the message. I asked Alice to sleep with me. Surprisingly, Alice was pleased with the notion. She said yes. Much as my mind was still in the torture chambers beneath the House of Horrors dressed up as a naked Pakistani, I had enough wits about me to make a date with her for the day after next, when we’d be back in San Francisco with our brains tucked back into our skulls again.

The sun soon flashed a warning that the night show was about to go on. Old Sol dipped toward the water to take a bath, turning the sky a brighter crimson than a Bloomingdales towel in a blue-tiled bathroom with accessories of cloud-white. Addled as we were, we realized we had better climb the cliff again.

So up we went, finding toe-holds, grabbing on to roots, and hoping that the bit of bush we’d wrapped a fist around was well enough anchored in the crumbling cliff-face to hold our weight, since none of us particularly wanted to attempt manned flight without the aerodynamic aid of underwear. The sun dove beneath the surface to snorkel until morning. The last light ebbed, leaving us to the disapproving eyes of cold, indifferent stars. And we were only half way up the cliff.

With my naked body pressed against a wall of stone and soil, I felt that I was climbing mother nature’s breast, and that she loved and would protect me (boy, were her nipples hard). Then I reached for the next root, and with a shower of dirt it jerked out of the surface. I quickly let it go, and didn’t hear it hit the beach for three or four seconds. Suddenly I realized that Mother Nature, for all her maternal instincts, was apparently busy just then with another of her children, and I was on my own. With visions of limpets sucking their lips wall-papering my now darkened eyes, I somehow made it to the top. So did we all.

Rather than spending the night in the lean-to, we took our sleeping bags across the highway to the mountainous fir forest. Then we huddled together. By now, I felt like the puppy dog in the group, a faithful follower of someone, probably Dick Hoff, anxious to be cuddled, willing to be warm and friendly to anyone. Though many of these people had followed me into the group, I never felt like a leader. But puppy dogs apparently have their appeal. When we arranged our sleeping bags so that we’d all be touching as many of each other as possible, everybody wanted to have his or her bag next to mine. I was very surprised. But it felt nice. We hallucinated the fluorescent sea creatures we’d seen that afternoon in tidal pools, and they pulsated us to sleep.

Two days later, I was sober again, and sitting on a front lawn with Alice. Once again, I felt out step-by-step her interest in me. It was there. It was real. And a pleasant portion of it was carnal. I had learned the lesson of the LSD and would carry it with me for years.

But in point of fact, the vast majority of the fantasies that had elbowed their way through my brain that day in Big Sur were nightmares. Most of them had carried barbs of pain and poison. I never took LSD again either. But I never forgot what it had shown me.

Next came the great Methedrine experiment. A waltz with that stuff was also an eye-opener, but it proved a good reminder of the reasons to avoid asking for too many dances with pharmaceutical partners.

 Sixties-cover-jasonschneiderwbothLearyquotes12-3-2013copy

 
Howard Bloom
Howardbloom.net
http://www.youtube.com/user/howbloom
Author of: The God Problem: How A Godless Cosmos Creates (“Bloom’s argument will rock your world.” Barbara Ehrenreich).
The Lucifer Principle: A Scientific Expedition Into the Forces of History (“mesmerizing” The Washington Post),
Global Brain: The Evolution of Mass Mind From The Big Bang to the 21st Century (“reassuring and sobering” The New Yorker),
The Genius of the Beast: A Radical Re-Vision of Capitalism (“Impressive, stimulating, and tremendously enjoyable.” James Fallows, National Correspondent, The Atlantic)
How I Accidentally Started the Sixties (“Wow! Whew! Wild! Wonderful!” Timothy Leary)
The Mohammed Code (“The best book on Islam I’ve ever read.” David Swindle, PJ Media)
Former Core Faculty Member, The Graduate Institute; Recent Visiting Scholar-Graduate Psychology Department, New York University
Founder and Chairman, Space Exploration Asia. Founder: International Paleopsychology Project. Founder, Space Development Steering Committee. Member Of Board Of Governors, National Space Society. Founding Board Member: Epic of Evolution Society. Founding Board Member, The Darwin Project. Founder, The Big Bang Tango Media Lab. Member: New York Academy of Sciences, American Association for the Advancement of Science, American Psychological Society, Academy of Political Science, Human Behavior and Evolution Society, International Society for Human Ethology. Scientific Advisory Board Member, Lifeboat Foundation. Advisory Board Member, The Buffalo Film Festival, Board of Editors, The Journal of Space Philosophy.

 

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Are there different types of psilocybin? Read our guide to learn about the different magic mushroom strains and their individual effects.

Kilindi Iyi: Mycologist, Traveler, Teacher
Learn about traveler and mycologist Kilindi Iyi known in the psychedelic community for his research and exploration of psilocybin.

How to Store Shrooms: Best Practices
How do you store shrooms for optimal shelf life? Learn how and why the proper storage method is so important.

Shroom Chocolate Recipes: How to Make Magic Mushroom Chocolates
This recipe provides step by step directions on how you can make mushroom chocolates with the necessary ingredients. Read to learn more!

Why Do People Use Psilocybin? New Johns Hopkins Study
Johns Hopkins University School of Medicines has just published a new study on psychoactive effects of psilocybin. Read here to learn more.

How-To Lemon Tek: Ultimate Guide and Recipe
This master guide will teach you how to lemon tek, preventing the onset of negative effects after consuming psilocybin. Read to learn more!

How to Intensify a Mushroom Trip
Learn about techniques like Lemon tekking, or discover the right time to consume cannabis if you are looking to intensify a mushroom trip.

How to Grow Magic Mushrooms: Step-by-Step
This step-by-step guide will show you how to grow magic mushrooms at home. Read this guide before trying it on your own.

How to Dry Magic Mushrooms: Best Practices
Read to learn more about specifics for the best practices on how to dry magic mushrooms after harvesting season.

How to Buy Psilocybin Spores
Interested in psilocybin mushrooms? We’ll walk you through all you need to know to obtain mushroom spores. Nosh on this delish How To guide.

Hippie Flipping: When Shrooms and Molly Meet
What is it, what does it feel like, and how long does it last? Explore the mechanics of hippie flipping and how to safely experiment.

Having Sex on Shrooms: Good or Bad Idea?
Is having sex on shrooms a good idea or an accident waiting to happen? Find out in our guide to sex on magic mushrooms.

Gold Cap Shrooms Guide: Spores, Effects, Identification
Read this guide to learn more about the different characteristics of gold cap mushrooms, and how they differ from other psilocybin species.

Guide to Cooking with Magic Mushrooms
From cookies to smoothies and sandwiches, we cover various methods of cooking with magic mushrooms for the ultimate snack.

2020 Election: The Decriminalize Psilocybin Movement
Are you curious if mushrooms will follow in marijuana’s footsteps? Read to learn about how the U.S. is moving to decriminalize psilocybin.

Oregon’s Initiative to Legalize Mushrooms | Initiative Petition 34
Oregon continues to push ahead with their initiative to legalize Psilocybin in 2020. The measure received its official title and now needs signatures.

Canada Approves Psilocybin Treatment for Terminally-Ill Cancer Patients
Canada’s Minister of Health, Patty Hajdu approved the use of psilocybin to help ease anxiety and depression of four terminal cancer patients.

Mapping the DMT Experience
With only firsthand experiences to share, how can we fully map the DMT experience? Let’s explore what we know about this powerful psychedelic.

Guide to Machine Elves and Other DMT Entities
This guide discusses machine elves, clockwork elves, and other common DMT entities that people experience during a DMT trip.

Is the DMT Experience a Hallucination? 
What if the DMT realm was the real world, and our everyday lives were merely a game we had chosen to play?

How to Store DMT
Not sure how to store DMT? Read this piece to learn the best practices and elements of advice to keep your stuff fresh.

What Does 5-MeO-DMT Show Us About Consciousness?
How does our brain differentiate between what’s real and what’s not? Read to learn what can 5-MeO-DMT show us about consciousness.

How to Smoke DMT: Processes Explained
There are many ways to smoke DMT and we’ve outlined some of the best processes to consider before embarking on your journey.

How to Ground After DMT
Knowing what to expect from a DMT comedown can help you integrate the experience to gain as much value as possible from your journey.

How To Get DMT
What kind of plants contain DMT? Are there other ways to access this psychedelic? Read on to learn more about how to get DMT.

How DMT is Made: Everything You Need to Know
Ever wonder how to make DMT? Read our guide to learn everything you need to know about the procedures of how DMT is made.

Having Sex on DMT: What You Need to Know
Have you ever wondered about sex on DMT? Learn how the God Molecule can influence your intimate experiences.

Does the Human Brain Make DMT? 
With scientific evidence showing us DMT in the brain, what can we conclude it is there for? Read on to learn more.

How to Use DMT Vape Pens
Read to learn all about DMT vape pens including: what to know when vaping, what to expect when purchasing a DMT cartridge, and vaping safely.

DMT Resources
This article is a comprehensive DMT resource providing extensive information from studies, books, documentaries, and more. Check it out!

Differentiating DMT and Near-Death Experiences
Some say there are similarities between a DMT trip and death. Read our guide on differentiating DMT and near-death experiences to find out.

DMT Research from 1956 to the Edge of Time
From a representative sample of a suitably psychedelic crowd, you’d be hard pressed to find someone who couldn’t tell you all about Albert Hofmann’s enchanted bicycle ride after swallowing what turned out to be a massive dose of LSD. Far fewer, however, could tell you much about the world’s first DMT trip.

The Ultimate Guide to DMT Pricing
Check out our ultimate guide on DMT pricing to learn what to expect when purchasing DMT for your first time.

DMT Milking | Reality Sandwich
Indigenous cultures have used 5-MeO-DMT for centuries. With the surge in demand for psychedelic toad milk, is DMT Milking harming the frogs?

Why Does DMT Pervade Nature?
With the presence of DMT in nature everywhere – including human brains – why does it continue to baffle science?

DMT Substance Guide: Effects, Common Uses, Safety
Our ultimate guide to DMT has everything you want to know about this powerful psychedelic referred to as “the spirit molecule”.

DMT for Depression: Paving the Way for New Medicine
We’ve been waiting for an effective depression treatment. Studies show DMT for depression works even for treatment resistant patients.

Beating Addiction with DMT
Psychedelics have been studied for their help overcoming addiction. Read how DMT is helping addicts beat their substance abuse issues.

DMT Extraction: Behind the Scientific Process
Take a look at DMT extraction and the scientific process involved. Learn all you need to know including procedures and safety.

Microdosing DMT & Common Dosages Explained
Microdosing, though imperceivable, is showing to have many health benefits–here is everything you want to know about microdosing DMT.

DMT Art: A Look Behind Visionary Creations
An entire genre of artwork is inspired by psychedelic trips with DMT. Read to learn about the entities and visions behind DMT art.

Changa vs. DMT: What You Need to Know
While similar (changa contains DMT), each drug has its own unique effect and feeling. Let’s compare and contrast changa vs DMT.

5-MeO-DMT Guide: Effects, Benefits, Safety, and Legality
5-Meo-DMT comes from the Sonora Desert toad. Here is everything you want to know about 5-Meo-DMT and how it compares to 4-AcO-DMT.

4-AcO-DMT Guide: Benefits, Effects, Safety, and Legality
This guide tells you everything about 4 AcO DMT & 5 MeO DMT, that belong to the tryptamine class, and are similar but slightly different to DMT.

How Much Does LSD Cost? When shopping around for that magical psychedelic substance, there can be many uncertainties when new to buying LSD. You may be wondering how much does LSD cost? In this article, we will discuss what to expect when purchasing LSD on the black market, what forms LSD is sold in, and the standard breakdown of buying LSD in quantity.   Navy Use of LSD on the Dark Web The dark web is increasingly popular for purchasing illegal substances. The US Navy has now noticed this trend with their staff. Read to learn more.   Having Sex on LSD: What You Need to Know Can you have sex on LSD? Read our guide to learn everything about sex on acid, from lowered inhibitions to LSD users quotes on sex while tripping.   A Drug That Switches off an LSD Trip A pharmaceutical company is developing an “off-switch” drug for an LSD trip, in the case that a bad trip can happen. Some would say there is no such thing.   Queen of Hearts: An Interview with Liz Elliot on Tim Leary and LSD The history of psychedelia, particularly the British experience, has been almost totally written by men. Of the women involved, especially those who were in the thick of it, little has been written either by or about them. A notable exception is Liz Elliot.   LSD Guide: Effects, Common Uses, Safety LSD, Lysergic acid diethylamide, or just acid is one of the most important psychedelics ever discovered. What did history teach us?   Microdosing LSD & Common Dosage Explained Microdosing, though imperceivable, is showing to have many health benefits–here is everything you want to know about microdosing LSD.   LSD Resources Curious to learn more about LSD? This guide includes comprehensive LSD resources containing books, studies and more.   LSD as a Spiritual Aid There is common consent that the evolution of mankind is paralleled by the increase and expansion of consciousness. From the described process of how consciousness originates and develops, it becomes evident that its growth depends on its faculty of perception. Therefore every means of improving this faculty should be used.   Legendary LSD Blotter Art: A Hidden Craftsmanship Have you ever heard of LSD blotter art? Explore the trippy world of LSD art and some of the top artists of LSD blotter art.   LSD and Exercise: Does it Work? LSD and exercise? Learn why high-performing athletes are taking hits of LSD to improve their overall potential.   Jan Bastiaans Treated Holocaust Survivors with LSD Dutch psychiatrist, Jan Bastiaans administered LSD-assisted therapy to survivors of the Holocaust. A true war hero and pioneer of psychedelic-therapy.   LSD and Spiritual Awakening I give thanks for LSD, which provided the opening that led me to India in 1971 and brought me to Neem Karoli Baba, known as Maharajji. Maharajji is described by the Indians as a “knower of hearts.”   How LSD is Made: Everything You Need to Know Ever wonder how to make LSD? Read our guide to learn everything you need to know about the procedures of how LSD is made.   How to Store LSD: Best Practices Learn the best way to store LSD, including the proper temperature and conditions to maximize how long LSD lasts when stored.   Bicycle Day: The Discovery of LSD Every year on April 19th, psychonauts join forces to celebrate Bicycle Day. Learn about the famous day when Albert Hoffman first discovered the effects of LSD.   Cary Grant: A Hollywood Legend On LSD Cary Grant was a famous actor during the 1930’s-60’s But did you know Grant experimented with LSD? Read our guide to learn more.   Albert Hofmann: LSD — My Problem Child Learn about Albert Hofmann and his discovery of LSD, along with the story of Bicycle Day and why it marks a historic milestone.   Babies are High: What Does LSD Do To Your Brain What do LSD and babies have in common? Researchers at the Imperial College in London discover that an adult’s brain on LSD looks like a baby’s brain.   1P LSD: Effects, Benefits, Safety Explained 1P LSD is an analogue of LSD and homologue of ALD-25. Here is everything you want to know about 1P LSD and how it compares to LSD.   Francis Crick, DNA & LSD Type ‘Francis Crick LSD’ into Google, and the result will be 30,000 links. Many sites claim that Crick (one of the two men responsible for discovering the structure of DNA), was either under the influence of LSD at the time of his revelation or used the drug to help with his thought processes during his research. Is this true?   What Happens If You Overdose on LSD? A recent article presented three individuals who overdosed on LSD. Though the experience was unpleasant, the outcomes were remarkably positive.

The Ayahuasca Experience
Ayahuasca is both a medicine and a visionary aid. You can employ ayahuasca for physical, mental, emotional and spiritual repair, and you can engage with the power of ayahuasca for deeper insight and realization. If you consider attainment of knowledge in the broadest perspective, you can say that at all times, ayahuasca heals.

 

Trippy Talk: Meet Ayahuasca with Sitaramaya Sita and PlantTeachers
Sitaramaya Sita is a spiritual herbalist, pusangera, and plant wisdom practitioner formally trained in the Shipibo ayahuasca tradition.

 

The Therapeutic Value of Ayahuasca
My best description of the impact of ayahuasca is that it’s a rocket boost to psychospiritual growth and unfolding, my professional specialty during my thirty-five years of private practice.

 

Microdosing Ayahuasca: Common Dosage Explained
What is ayahuasca made of and what is considered a microdose? Explore insights with an experienced Peruvian brewmaster and learn more about this practice.

 

Ayahuasca Makes Neuron Babies in Your Brain
Researchers from Beckley/Sant Pau Research Program have shared the latest findings in their study on the effects of ayahuasca on neurogenesis.

 

The Fatimiya Sufi Order and Ayahuasca
In this interview, the founder of the Fatimiya Sufi Order,  N. Wahid Azal, discusses the history and uses of plant medicines in Islamic and pre-Islamic mystery schools.

 

Consideration Ayahuasca for Treatment of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
Research indicates that ayahuasca mimics mechanisms of currently accepted treatments for PTSD. In order to understand the implications of ayahuasca treatment, we need to understand how PTSD develops.

 

Brainwaves on Ayahuasca: A Waking Dream State
In a study researchers shared discoveries showing ingredients found in Ayahuasca impact the brainwaves causing a “waking dream” state.

 

Cannabis and Ayahuasca: Mixing Entheogenic Plants
Cannabis and Ayahuasca: most people believe they shouldn’t be mixed. Read this personal experience peppered with thoughts from a pro cannabis Peruvian Shaman.

 

Ayahuasca Retreat 101: Everything You Need to Know to Brave the Brew
Ayahuasca has been known to be a powerful medicinal substance for millennia. However, until recently, it was only found in the jungle. Word of its deeply healing and cleansing properties has begun to spread across the world as many modern, Western individuals are seeking spiritual, mental, emotional, and physical well-being. More ayahuasca retreat centers are emerging in the Amazon and worldwide to meet the demand.

 

Ayahuasca Helps with Grief
A new study published in psychopharmacology found that ayahuasca helped those suffering from the loss of a loved one up to a year after treatment.

 

Ayahuasca Benefits: Clinical Improvements for Six Months
Ayahuasca benefits can last six months according to studies. Read here to learn about the clinical improvements from drinking the brew.

 

Ayahuasca Culture: Indigenous, Western, And The Future
Ayahuasca has been use for generations in the Amazon. With the rise of retreats and the brew leaving the rainforest how is ayahuasca culture changing?

 

Ayahuasca Guide: Effects, Common Uses, Safety
The Amazonian brew, Ayahuasca has a long history and wide use. Read our guide to learn all about the tea from its beginnings up to modern-day interest.

 

Ayahuasca and the Godhead: An Interview with Wahid Azal of the Fatimiya Sufi Order
Wahid Azal, a Sufi mystic of The Fatimiya Sufi Order and an Islamic scholar, talks about entheogens, Sufism, mythology, and metaphysics.

 

Ayahuasca and the Feminine: Women’s Roles, Healing, Retreats, and More
Ayahuasca is lovingly called “grandmother” or “mother” by many. Just how feminine is the brew? Read to learn all about women and ayahuasca.

What Is the Standard of Care for Ketamine Treatments?
Ketamine therapy is on the rise in light of its powerful results for treatment-resistant depression. But, what is the current standard of care for ketamine? Read to find out.

What Is Dissociation and How Does Ketamine Create It?
Dissociation can take on multiple forms. So, what is dissociation like and how does ketamine create it? Read to find out.

Having Sex on Ketamine: Getting Physical on a Dissociative
Curious about what it could feel like to have sex on a dissociate? Find out all the answers in our guide to sex on ketamine.

Special K: The Party Drug
Special K refers to Ketamine when used recreationally. Learn the trends as well as safety information around this substance.

Kitty Flipping: When Ketamine and Molly Meet
What is it, what does it feel like, and how long does it last? Read to explore the mechanics of kitty flipping.

Ketamine vs. Esketamine: 3 Important Differences Explained
Ketamine and esketamine are used to treat depression. But what’s the difference between them? Read to learn which one is right for you: ketamine vs. esketamine.

Guide to Ketamine Treatments: Understanding the New Approach
Ketamine is becoming more popular as more people are seeing its benefits. Is ketamine a fit? Read our guide for all you need to know about ketamine treatments.

Ketamine Treatment for Eating Disorders
Ketamine is becoming a promising treatment for various mental health conditions. Read to learn how individuals can use ketamine treatment for eating disorders.

Ketamine Resources, Studies, and Trusted Information
Curious to learn more about ketamine? This guide includes comprehensive ketamine resources containing books, studies and more.

Ketamine Guide: Effects, Common Uses, Safety
Our ultimate guide to ketamine has everything you need to know about this “dissociative anesthetic” and how it is being studied for depression treatment.

Ketamine for Depression: A Mental Health Breakthrough
While antidepressants work for some, many others find no relief. Read to learn about the therapeutic uses of ketamine for depression.

Ketamine for Addiction: Treatments Offering Hope
New treatments are offering hope to individuals suffering from addiction diseases. Read to learn how ketamine for addiction is providing breakthrough results.

Microdosing Ketamine & Common Dosages Explained
Microdosing, though imperceivable, is showing to have many health benefits–here is everything you want to know about microdosing ketamine.

How to Ease a Ketamine Comedown
Knowing what to expect when you come down from ketamine can help integrate the experience to gain as much value as possible.

How to Store Ketamine: Best Practices
Learn the best ways how to store ketamine, including the proper temperature and conditions to maximize how long ketamine lasts when stored.

How To Buy Ketamine: Is There Legal Ketamine Online?
Learn exactly where it’s legal to buy ketamine, and if it’s possible to purchase legal ketamine on the internet.

How Long Does Ketamine Stay in Your System?
How long does ketamine stay in your system? Are there lasting effects on your body? Read to discover the answers!

How Ketamine is Made: Everything You Need to Know
Ever wonder how to make Ketamine? Read our guide to learn everything you need to know about the procedures of how Ketamine is made.

Colorado on Ketamine: First Responders Waiver Programs
Fallout continues after Elijah McClain. Despite opposing recommendations from some city council, Colorado State Health panel recommends the continued use of ketamine by medics for those demonstrating “excited delirium” or “extreme agitation”.

Types of Ketamine: Learn the Differences & Uses for Each
Learn about the different types of ketamine and what they are used for—and what type might be right for you. Read now to find out!

Kitty Flipping: When Ketamine and Molly Meet
What is it, what does it feel like, and how long does it last? Read to explore the mechanics of kitty flipping.

MDMA & Ecstasy Guide: Effects, Common Uses, Safety
Our ultimate guide to MDMA has everything you want to know about Ecstasy from how it was developed in 1912 to why it’s being studied today.

How To Get the Most out of Taking MDMA as a Couple
Taking MDMA as a couple can lead to exciting experiences. Read here to learn how to get the most of of this love drug in your relationship.

Common MDMA Dosage & Microdosing Explained
Microdosing, though imperceivable, is showing to have many health benefits–here is everything you want to know about microdosing MDMA.

Having Sex on MDMA: What You Need to Know
MDMA is known as the love drug… Read our guide to learn all about sex on MDMA and why it is beginning to makes its way into couple’s therapy.

How MDMA is Made: Common Procedures Explained
Ever wonder how to make MDMA? Read our guide to learn everything you need to know about the procedures of how MDMA is made.

Hippie Flipping: When Shrooms and Molly Meet
What is it, what does it feel like, and how long does it last? Explore the mechanics of hippie flipping and how to safely experiment.

How Cocaine is Made: Common Procedures Explained
Ever wonder how to make cocaine? Read our guide to learn everything you need to know about the procedures of how cocaine is made.

A Christmas Sweater with Santa and Cocaine
This week, Walmart came under fire for a “Let it Snow” Christmas sweater depicting Santa with lines of cocaine. Columbia is not merry about it.

Ultimate Cocaine Guide: Effects, Common Uses, Safety
This guide covers what you need to know about Cocaine, including common effects and uses, legality, safety precautions and top trends today.

NEWS: An FDA-Approved Cocaine Nasal Spray
The FDA approved a cocaine nasal spray called Numbrino, which has raised suspicions that the pharmaceutical company, Lannett Company Inc., paid off the FDA..

The Ultimate Guide to Cannabis Bioavailability
What is bioavailability and how can it affect the overall efficacy of a psychedelic substance? Read to learn more.

Cannabis Research Explains Sociability Behaviors
New research by Dr. Giovanni Marsicano shows social behavioral changes occur as a result of less energy available to the neurons. Read here to learn more.

The Cannabis Shaman
If recreational and medical use of marijuana is becoming accepted, can the spiritual use as well? Experiential journalist Rak Razam interviews Hamilton Souther, founder of the 420 Cannabis Shamanism movement…

Cannabis Guide: Effects, Common Uses, Safety
Our ultimate guide to Cannabis has everything you want to know about this popular substances that has psychedelic properties.

Cannabis and Ayahuasca: Mixing Entheogenic Plants
Cannabis and Ayahuasca: most people believe they shouldn’t be mixed. Read this personal experience peppered with thoughts from a procannabis Peruvian Shaman.

CBD-Rich Cannabis Versus Single-Molecule CBD
A ground-breaking study has documented the superior therapeutic properties of whole plant Cannabis extract as compared to synthetic cannabidiol (CBD), challenging the medical-industrial complex’s notion that “crude” botanical preparations are less effective than single-molecule compounds.

Cannabis Has Always Been a Medicine
Modern science has already confirmed the efficacy of cannabis for most uses described in the ancient medical texts, but prohibitionists still claim that medical cannabis is “just a ruse.”

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