true hallucinations.htm - Shroomery

true hallucinations.htm
Dennis was predisposed to an archetypal submergence. I believe that somehow, in a single moment, he bound up all the MAO in his body, and
his derangement was due to the lag time that was required to rebuild his MAO level from a complete and sudden inhibition. I believe that this
sudden depletion was caused by his experiment and that vocally induced, resonance canceling of the forces that normally operate in these
molecules caused major changes in his body chemistry. In short, I believe that he induced an irreversible MAO inhibition in his body through
the use of psilo-cybin and his voice and will.
If this is true, then the implication for humankind may be every bit as great as we, in our inflated state of mind, supposed, since it hints at a
pharmacological technology by which humankind might explore the parallel continuum whose interaction with our own existence is signified
by the visionary experience. We had brushed against an effect that someday may open a door to all the worlds teeming in our dreams and
imaginations. Certainly it is an effect to be studied and learned from. Today, years after the experiment, it still seems full of great promise. My
continued interest in these matters is based on the personal belief that some unusual and still unconfirmed effect was at work in our
experiment, something like the principle of resonance-canceling that Dennis was so intrigued by.
Breakfast on March 7, the second day following the experiment, was closed with a hot discussion of whether Dennis had really gone to the
chorro or only dreamed that he had. As the rhetoric exhausted itself, Vanessa drew me away from the hut, and we walked along as I went to
the spring for water. She wanted to have a talk, the gist of which was that since there were wide differences in diagnosis of what was going on,
so there were wide differences concerning what should be done.
"But since Dennis is your brother and you have strong opinions on this subject, I will defer in favor of what you think should be done here. At
least for the moment."
I was grateful for the margin of time contained in Vanessa's chosen course. The whole question revolving around Dennis's state of mind
concerned how and especially when he would pull out of it. Any diagnosis had to come forth with an operational prediction on that vital point.
I was assured by the inner voice that all was well, but I wanted Vanessa to understand that I appreciated her approach even if I did not agree
with it.
I understood from Vanessa's demeanor that we would be left pretty much to ourselves in the forest house. We could expect her and Dave only
as visitors, and already the possibility of retreat from the jungle isolation was becoming a faint but growing theme.
Thus the stage was set for the next five days of chaos at La Chorrera, from the seventh to the twelfth of March. From that day onward, Ev
became a kind of liaison with the rest of the world of the mission. She arrived in the late afternoon and departed each
morning, cooking an evening and morning meal and being very game about it all, considering that she had only fallen in with our little group
three weeks before.
During this time, Dennis very slowly got better. His mind seemed to have been quite literally turned inside out. During certain times each day
when he became more coherent he said that the experience had catapulted him to the edge of the Riemannian pseudosphere that is the
universe, in which even parallel lines intersect. He claimed he had to come back into ordinary space and was regressing inward through level
after level after level. Very strange things went on during this period. He could hear my mind working. He was telepathic; of this I have no
doubt. He could do perfect voice imitations of our mother and father. He became many people, imitating them perfectly. He saw me as a kind
of shaman or messiah. He referred to me as "The Teach," not teacher or teaching but The Teach, a kind of personified alien ambassador
empowered to negotiate the entry of the human species into the councils of higher intelligence.
And there was much more; a vision of twentieth-century history, building the lens, and the end of time. He said that the discovery of a higher
physical dimension was a few years ahead of us, but somehow linked up to Egypt, to Acacia tryptamine cults, to Tibet eight thousand years
ago, to Bon-po shamanic magic and the / Ching. All these ideas were in constant circulation while he talked and performed incessantly.
No notes exist from this period. So filled was I with the assumption that we were abiding in eternity that I felt no need to write at all. As the
world seemed to me to grow more perfect, I determined at some point that I would write a poem, but that moment never came. Nothing is
coherent or remains connected from those five days. I remember it as the most intense time that I have ever gone through. There was not an
emotional or intellectual chord in the human register that was not rung again and again in a thousand variations.
In the notes made weeks after those times I could only summarize those five days by labeling them, absurdly: fire, water, earth, man, peace. I
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