No one escapes, you know, the final realization. It's just that some people do postpone it
 to their last act. But there's no reason for that, because it is the mystery, the culmination,
 it is the date palm and the wellspring.
 I'm always interested in pursuing things from the lion's angle, so I'd like to ask about
 how this theory of time relates to the individual and somewhat related to PJ's question. There's
 some sense I have that in their techniques, and certainly you've experienced and other
 people have experiences with the mushroom at high doses of traveling through time and
 actually seeing the future or seeing the past. And I was wondering if you could say more
 about that and some framework for understanding how that is possible.
 Yes, well I think psilocybin seems to be the great teacher of history, and part of its
 teaching is history. It views a person without a history as a person with amnesia, a person
 with a diminished capacity, because your history gives you the power of your convictions. The
 way I use the wave, or the way I've been using it recently, is to try and study the time
 immediately ahead of us so that we don't misjudge what's going on. It's a mathematical process.
 There's no indeterminacy about it if we anchor the whole wave system on 2012. And what I
 see from that anchorage point is in the 67-year cycle from 1945 to 2012, we have reached that
 point which resonates with the larger 4,306-year cycle, at that point which corresponds to
 the collapse of the Roman Empire around 475 AD. In other words, we have been through a
 period of imperialist expansionism, which has lasted for a number of years, certainly
 since the beginning of the '80s. But I see a retrenchment of that and a recidivist tendency,
 a tendency toward religious fundamentalism, rigid social structures, and in short, the
 sorts of things which could be seen as valid resonance patterns to the early medieval phase
 of European civilization. The period from AD 474, let's for shorthand call it 500 AD,
 the period from 500 AD to 1500 AD, in other words, to the discovery of the New World by
 Columbus, that thousand-year period is the resonance that we are going to experience
 from now till the late '90s. Around 1998, we will reach the beginning of the Renaissance
 and the discovery of the New World. But we are going to have to endure a period not entirely
 to our liking. We represent the pagan Hellenistic spirit which has held full sway within the
 Empire for the past 25 years. And we may feel constricted now, but I think that our ideas
 and our position in society has further constriction to undergo before it re-flowers downstream
 a bit. So when I first realized that, I felt very pessimistic. But then I asked myself,
 "Well, what aspects of medieval life could I groove? What aspects of that medieval eschatology
 were solitary to my needs and wishes?" And I discovered that it was an age of great mystical
 faith and illumination. It was an age of communities of like-minded people seeking transformation
 far from the turbulence of the collapse of the Empire. So I am not of that... My theory
 leads me away from those people in the New Age who think we're about to be catapulted
 into the corridors of power. I think that's preposterous, and the evidence for it is zero.
 And I think better we should tend our gardens and form brotherhoods and sisterhoods of affinity
 and realize that the task of transformation is one of a lifetime, our lifetimes. And every
 time someone like Dick Price or Tony Lilly moves from the wheel, I always wonder, "How
 did it feel to know it wasn't finished, to go with it undone?"
 [inaudible]
 Oh, yes. I have no doubt that when the saucer comes, that Tony or Dick will be in control.
 One of them. What is it Bob Dylan says in his song, "Ezra Pound and T.S. Eliot fighting
 in the Captain's Tower." But yes, so I don't know if that answered your question, Robin,
 but I wanted to get it in because the real meat for most people for this idea about time
 is not the mathematics of it and the symmetry of it that's only pleasing to a certain mentality,
 but really what does it tell us about the years immediately ahead? And what it says
 is consolidation, illumination, community, and self-discipline.
 I can only say thanks a thousand times that we don't have to go through it for a thousand
 years and only for like 15 years. This acceleration seems to me to be very, very convenient. Imagine
 if we were born in 500 AD and we had to look forward to that.
 Yes. Well, that's why I say, imagine the people who lived in times when the temporal
 river was stagnant or even when counter currents swept it backwards. This is the anguish of
 the ancestors. This is the sacred trust that must not be betrayed. The pogroms and the
 invasions and the atrocities conducted across history can only be somehow redeemed if we,
 who are the living wavefront of this genetic experience, do not fumble the ball. All our
 ancestors are watching to see how we will do.
 I would like to address Robin's question as well because it seemed like you were asking
 sort of on a more mechanical, how did this happen?
 Well, yeah, how can it be that the Mayans or we on psychedelics can travel through time
 and see these things?
 My image for it that explains that phenomenon to me, and I've had this same experience past
 and future, is, well, Terrence is just referring to the temporal river, is that it's a river
 which flows two ways, from the past to the future and from the future to the past. And
 if you put yourself out in the middle of it, let go of control, let go of fear, and maybe
 you want to choose your orientation, or maybe you don't. You can just find out where you
 flow, or you can sort of face the past or face the future and flow there. I mean, this
 is not a physicist's explanation of how this happens, but it seems to work that way, you
 know, in that we think perhaps far too much of the past creating the future, and that
 we should think more, and perhaps other people have, of how it's flowing the other way. And
 this is how some so-called primitive people have managed to conserve the very simple,
 effective beauty of their lifestyle, and that real strong feeling that every moment is now,
 because they're thinking of it simultaneously. I think of that, and that also sets my mind
 off. You know, that's kind of like the river's flowing both ways, and if you kind of take
 a step to the side somehow, that you'll catch the current from the future. That's appealing,
 but also, I mean, I always play with these metaphors, and maybe I'm literalizing them
 too much. Is it possible to step out of that stream in some way, and then looking above,
 and sort of choose where you're going to descend into it? Or another image that came to mind
 is are there somehow holes in the fabric of time that you can shoot through, sort of like
 in 2001, the Stargate opening up, and there's this hole in between, and where you emerge
 is not the other side of it, but someplace completely different.
 If you take the wave seriously, and apply it on these short scales of time, you know,
 you can find your way into, yes, unique configurations of the moment. It's like astrology in that
 way, you know. And often the content of a psychedelic experience can be later seen to
 be because of the situation of historical resonance that you weren't perhaps even aware
 of at the time. Or if there are parallel worlds, one or many,
 which ones happen to be adjacent at that moment in the cosmic weather, kind of, you know.
 And I've taken the mushroom just to say, like a weather person, to say, "Okay, I just
 want to see what's happening out there right now, not with a will in it, you know." And
 then, you know, you can find that it's about knitting in your rocking chair, or you can
 find that you're just on some landscape that you couldn't have seen time before.
 The essence of Tao is the correct apperception of process. That's what Taoism is, is to understand
 process, is to be a Taoist. And I think that this is almost a formal rendering of the notion
 of Tao, almost an effort to create a mathematics, an algebra of the Tao. And as long as it's
 true to the notions which Taoism conserves, which is of flow and determinacy within indeterminacy,
 it serves. This is what understanding time is, is to understand process. But to understand
 it so well that it's like a sense for you, it's like seeing. This is the kind of seeing
 that is very important, to see into time. It's what history and culture have experimented
 with, but it's what we now, by identifying that as what is going on, can accelerate much
 faster. Anything else? I was just picking up on a conversation with Michael this morning.
 I could talk more about the Other. Oh, the Other. Well, I'm not sure exactly what he
 meant by talking about the Other. I mean, the Other is just a way of thinking about
 all of these things that we name Spirit, God, Demon, Void. It's that there just necessarily
 is a place off our map. Whenever you have a map, it implies the part that is not on
 the map. And the Other, the truly Other, it lies outside the domain of language. It's
 like the unspeakable. All you can do is point at it. And the Gnostic idea of God was that
 it was totally Other, that there was nothing in this universe that gave any clue whatsoever
 as to the nature of God, that that was its essence, was to be completely Other. But the
 Other trickles through and reverberates in our lives in all kinds of dimensions. I mean,
 the first Other that you meet is the world. And at a later point in your development,
 your attachment to another human being can become a confrontation with the Other. So
 it's just a way of shorthand signifying, right, the dimension that carries you beyond yourself
 into the things that you previously couldn't expect or imagine.
 Non-word.
 Yeah, that's one notion of it. Or Wittgenstein's "Unspeakable." Or, you know, I'm fond of
 quoting this poem by Trumbull Stickney, where he says, "I lean over your meaning's edge
 and feel the dizziness of the things you have not said." That's the Other. It's the dizziness
 of the things unsaid, the things that lie beyond the edge of meaning.
 Part of the question has to do with, specifically in the mushroom experience at High Dose, is
 this sense of alien intelligence or Other. Because I think, you know, it's like you said,
 in some of our systems of conceptions of God, many psychedelic experiences, at least with
 LSD and Other, or light dosages, is that I am connected to that, or that I'm part of
 that thing. But somehow on the tryptamine it's this alien intelligence. I mean, what
 do you make of that? Do you feel that's a question?
 Well, I don't know quite what to make of that. LSD is self-reflective and integrative, I
 think. These tryptamines seem to be informational and largely unconcerned with the impact that
 the information they carry has on the perceiver. I don't know. I think it just must have to
 do with the fact that the universe is not all smoothed out and filled in, and that this
 is really an area of personal exploration where you can penetrate into an area, a terra
 incognita, a place where nobody knows exactly what is going on. We're not used to that experience.
 We expect to have maps of everything we look at and everywhere we go. But in this, and
 it is strange that in this one area we don't, that apparently our taboo against looking
 at the unconscious or delving into the mind has made us content to just fence off this
 area. Well, then if you climb over the fence and start wandering around out there, you
 don't know what you're going to find, because the culture has carefully engineered itself
 to go around all of this stuff. Even, I think, shamanism is largely concerned with gaining
 power to protect yourself from the onslaught of the other. They're very concerned to hold
 stuff back. They don't really have this "let's hurl ourselves into it" attitude that we have.
 We found in the Amazon, we were looking for this one plant which had DMT in it, and the
 ayahuasquero that we were working with, I kept leading the questioning back to the matter
 of this one plant. And finally, he said, first he said that it was comida del perro, food
 for dogs, which seemed like maybe a put-down of some sort. And so then he went back over
 it again and he said, "Whoa, it's mal and bizarro. It's too strange." So this was a
 man whose whole life was about taking ayahuasca and triggering hallucination, but he felt
 that to go into that plant, it was too weird. And you often have the feeling with those
 people that they involve themselves in the psychedelic effect like a dancer, almost as
 little as possible, to get the job done. They don't...
 I don't think that of Don Fidel. I think that...
 In that one case, he certainly was...
 Yes, that was the line-in. He did also seem to hold the mushroom in the middle category,
 but he would use it on his own. He would only administer to others ayahuasca or certain
 things that he felt very familiar with. But then, that was Saturday nights, Wednesday
 nights, he would do things on his own and know his work. And he would try out some of
 these other plants or combinations. But I think he was pretty intrepid, actually. He
 did have boundaries.
 In '83, or whenever it was that I was down there last, we were dealing with a different
 group of shamans on the upper Ampyaku, and it was to get this orally active DMT thing
 that was made from tree resin. And we had pure chemical DMT as a trade item, or we weren't
 sure why, but just in case we needed it.
 You can never go anywhere without it.
 Exactly. And so, talking to the shaman who could make the varolapay stuff, we said this,
 and he said, "Oh, you have the esencia, you have the essence." He said, "Yes." And he
 said, "So what is that like?" We said, "Well, you don't take it orally, you don't take it
 by mouth, you smoke it." He said, "Oh, and what happens?" And so he described a typical
 DMT trip to him, and then said, "Would you like to try it?" He said, "No, thank you."
 So they're not thrill-crazy by any means.
 I'm reminded of in the latest Castaneda books, he goes into what he calls the old seers and
 the new seers. And the old seers were, maybe you're more aligned with them, I don't know,
 but they would be willing to explore any territory. And they made a division between the known
 and the unknown.
 The unknown.
 No. No, it was the new seers who came up with the third category of the unknowable.
 In other words, there's this reality, which is the known, and then there's the other realities
 you go to, which are the unknown. It's like maybe the ayahuasquero takes you to the unknown.
 But this other realm, where they don't go, they would probably call the unknowable, because
 the impact that it has on you to go in there could be dangerous.
 From the place of the unknown, they could glimpse very briefly the unknowable, and it
 was usually a pretty shattering experience.
 But great emphasis on being able to distinguish the difference between the unknown and the
 unknowable.
 Yeah.
 He said that whenever one made an error in judgment, it wasn't that dangerous to be up
 against the unknowable, but you had to recognize it as unknowable, because whenever one did
 an error, it would lead to disaster. Of course, that's Castaneda's, you know.
 That's his tense.
 Well, that's interesting. I mean, it makes me think of, you know, I mentioned Wittgenstein's
 unspeakable. There is, I think, the unspeakable and the unspoken. And all these esoteric and
 initiatory religious numbers are trading in the unspoken. You know, you come to them and
 they will whisper in your ear the previously unspoken teaching. They will give you an oral
 empowerment. But beyond that lies the unspeakable, which no teacher can orally impart or impart
 any other way, because it lies outside the bounds of transmissibility by its nature.
 And unspeakable is unknowable?
 I would, to some degree, I would think so. And that's the thing which then you validate.
 You can only validate it for itself, in itself, for itself. It is the private object of being.
 It is not something which I can tell you about or you can tell me about. It's the private
 mystery that is ontologically private, because it's unspeakable.
 But I don't think that what is the unspeakable is the same as the unknowable. I think that
 all of us who have pursued these dimensions have many experiences that it's very hard
 to talk about, or when you talk about them you know it sounds so silly compared to what
 you experienced, right? It's one of the challenges of having this kind of group discussion or
 these kinds of workshops is to try to talk about that. But there is, I think, a big area
 that just doesn't language, don't you? Don't you think the ineffable is how I think of
 it, another word for it.
 Well, you can sort of chip away at it. I mean, the whole progress of human development is
 maybe slowly eroding the unspeakable and turning it into the spoken.
 I'd like to speak about that. That's what's been going on in my mind. I'm glad you
 mentioned that. Because the way that is the process of everything from the very beginning
 to the very end. We as human beings on the planet are just somewhere in the middle of
 this whole process of the unknowable becoming the known. And it ties back a little bit to
 your whole thing of time yesterday where you said like the physicists are interested in
 the first, second or parts thereof, whereas you're interested in this final or coming
 up moments or years as things speed up. But what we're looking at is the physicists are
 looking at basically the physics of it, the form, whatever, the matter, the physics. And
 what you're looking at are the ideas which are coming into being more and more. This
 end of time is more and more recognition. So it's really like spirit or mind or knowing
 which is accelerating. So it's like the opposite end. One is the matter coming into
 form at the beginning and then at the end is the knowing of all of this, which is coming
 to a point. And like an ant or whatever lower level of consciousness is on different levels
 or a cell, an amoeba, they have their thing and then there's the unknowable, which is
 what we are acting in. How can, even inside of our body, the blood cells, can they know
 of our world of communications and symbols and knowledge, such as we are on this unknowable
 is really just a greater universe, a higher level, which is known by a higher way of being.
 So it's like from each end, whatever, the matter here and then the mind coming into
 it. And like this point coming up shortly, this 2012, is significant in that it's possibly
 some sort of, like I say, this opposite end of knowing becoming complete, like life becoming
 completely aware of all life of itself. But that's like, is that the end of everything?
 It seems like that's just a point, like a mid-swing of a pendulum.
 Yes, well then some other process having to do with the career of spirit instead of matter
 is initiated, you know.
 Right. And whether it's the end of everything is a rather huge way of approaching it.
 Well, it's a complete end of one way of being.
 Of us as a species, as a life.
 It's not just humans, it's all of life.
 Of the earth, life, entity, then. But if that life entity goes through a great metamorphosis,
 it's rather meaningless to say what happens to the rest of the universe, since the rest
 of the universe right now is a concept in our minds.
 Right, but that's the metaphysicality of it.
 But to say what's never been said, to do what's never been done, to paint what's never been
 painted, to dance what's never been danced, this is, you know, somehow you're acting for
 everybody when you do that. It's an amazing thing to do something that's never been done.
 It means once you've done it, it's been done.
 It's pushing the limits out.
 That's right.
 Putting the fence, it's like a fence going out bigger and bigger, and like all these
 great minds that go out there and fence off a big area for all of humanity to run around
 in this area of being and knowing, and it's this whole process of...
 It's what aeronautical engineers call stretching the envelope.
 When you fly a fighter plane, you have the predicted engineering performance characteristics,
 and once you validate that it can do that, then it's up to the pilot to find out, to
 stretch the envelope, to find out what it can really do, how fast it can turn, how fast
 it can climb, and that's what we as creative artists do for the human enterprise.
 The lacking ingredient is courage, I think.
 I mean, often I have the feeling that it's no longer, at least in my own life, about
 seeking the answer. It's about facing it.
 It isn't about, is it yoga, is it Taoism, is it this, is it that?
 I think that now I know, at least for me, what it is, but the answer is so appalling
 and requires such courage to execute it and carry it through that I don't know what to do.
 I have no doubt that we could all become the Taoist hermit on Cold Mountain, you know,
 and be that person of whom people in the valley say, "Oh, him, we see him sometimes when
 it snows very deeply because he comes further down for wood.
 He comes and goes in the mist and never talks to anybody."
 We could all become that person.
 There are no barriers to ultimate spiritual attainment, but what about, you know, your
 mortgage and your lover and your devotion to French chocolate and all of these things?
 That's tricky. That's very, very tricky.
 Learn how to pick these plants because it really all washes out.
 Maybe just for an hour of picking, but it really puts all of that in perspective.
 But, for instance, like the matter of the flying saucer, I have no doubt that if you
 took ten people selected from this group and trekked days east of Death Valley and, you
 know, stayed up all night and then everybody took eight dried grams of mushrooms and hooped
 and hollered and waited, that something would happen that would be so appalling and so destructive
 to our preconceptions of what's possible in this universe that you just come out of it,
 you know, pointing into the desert and saying, "Mmm, mmm, mmm."
 But I'm careful.
 I don't doubt that appalling, appalling, appalling things can happen and that reality can be
 completely pulled to pieces. And I don't know what that means, but I want to really try
 and deal with that on my terms. And that's a kind of fear, you know. It's a kind of holding back.
 That's why, you know, I know people who seem to me superhumanly reckless.
 I mean, they tell me the things they do and I just shake my head, you know, because of
 the power, of the vistas, of the energies that they must have laid their hands on.
 I don't... it's too much for me. I want... I'm a simple scholar and bookish collector type.
 I'm like Brother John here. We like our home and hearth.
 But that's the challenge, you see. That's the weird thing about the psychedelics.
 It is a path, but in a sense it's the end of the path. And then what do you do?
 You know, now it's up to you. It's no more about, you know, the guru says in five years
 you'll make progress, or if you just keep eating this spirulina or fiddling with your crystals or something.
 It's that, no, you've arrived. Now what do you do with it?
 Are you really want to be a wandering figure at the edge of civilization, glimpsed occasionally
 in your tattered cloak with your wild ravings and...
 That's the only option. We were talking, Mitch and I were talking this morning about...
 Thank you.
 It's tough to do that with kids, see. I know.
 We were talking about envisioning something and how these plants help you to generate a vision
 of something real that you want to create or organize in the world.
 And then they help you to have the discipline and the dedication to carry them out in the real day-to-day,
 you know, telephone calls and how do I get the money for it kind of way.
 And that, I think, is a real strength that all of us have, and that it's one of the responsibilities
 of being granted the visions, is to make the visions then as real as you can.
 I mean, we do have our bodies here on Earth for some time to come.
 We do have pleasure, of course, which we should all indulge in.
 But we also have responsibility to make it as much like, even if it's a small step,
 as much like that fantastic thing we can see in our visions.
 And I think that, you know, it gives you the object and then it helps you move toward it.
 And then we need to do that work and keep refreshing our vision if it gets weak
 and we start to give up on it or if we need to shift direction slightly.
 I go back to astrology and Saturn being drawing a ring around the vision
 and then Saturn's stairway envisioning the steps that it takes to get there.
 And that how you can't jump, you know, 40 steps up without losing part of the foundation.
 And that, as an artist myself, I'm finally getting to a place of patience
 and realizing that the slower it goes, the better it gets.
 And the statement that I like is, "If I only had more time, I'd use less words to write."
 It's like choosing things carefully and allowing the process.
 For years I was just like, "I've got to get this out. I've got to..."
 But not anymore. It's now I'm really seeing that slow, patient steps
 create a foundation strong enough to someday, even if it's not in this lifetime,
 to manifest that dream.
 If you use the quality of your daily life as your currency
 for how you're proceeding towards something, then you know
 if the quality of your daily life is good, deep, satisfying, and you have a goal,
 you're probably on the right path, right?
 If you're saying, "God, it's just going to be hell for three years
 till I can get this project together," you maybe should think about it again.
 I've actually seen that process reflected on a greater scale
 in just the evolution of life itself.
 If life were to very quickly achieve the knowing pure spirituality,
 then what good is it?
 That's through humans and through all of our history and time.
 Even this coming moment, 2012, that might just be this reflection of another,
 even more ultimate. It most likely is.
 It's just that reflection. It's really this endlessly drawn-out, patient process
 which is taking its time as long as possible so that every aspect will work into place.
 It's just that.
 This quality of daily life thing is an interesting point
 because I think it was yesterday or two days ago we meditated or thought about
 what would you do if you could do anything and how...
 Oh, there it is.
 It's stretching the envelope.
 Yes. And how you imagine...
 Or if a genie were to suddenly tell you you had not three wishes but thousands
 and you would begin to dabble in fulfillment
 and then, of course, in all the trivial and superficial things I mentioned,
 palaces and Ferraris and all this.
 But then things like that you could move anywhere instantly.
 How would you choose to travel if you could move anywhere instantly?
 And things like that.
 Well, at La Charrera, these possibilities were so real to us
 that we actually grappled with it sufficiently to see how it would develop.
 And how it develops is you discover that if you can do anything,
 the only values which have any meaning,
 if you can do anything and have anything, are aesthetic values.
 So that if you could travel anywhere instantly, how would you travel?
 You would walk, obviously.
 You know? Because it's so tasteful.
 Because it's so completing.
 It's such a complete reverence for space and time and your own body
 and the correctness of the situation.
 And time and time at La Charrera, someone would be doing something some way
 and someone else would say, "Whoa, if you're omniscient, why don't you just make it be done?"
 And the answer is, "Because it's crass to do that."
 You know? The way to do things, if you can do anything, is to do them right.
 That's Zen. Zen cooking is like that.
 I guess. But that realization of the total richness and correctness of the moment
 is that's the correct interpretation of the attainment of these cities.
 Things would go on at La Charrera, as an example of how the Tao works,
 where I would walk out into the jungle and there would be butterflies circling.
 And I would hold out my hand and speak to the butterflies with my mind
 and invite them to come down and land on my hand and display themselves.
 And the butterflies would do this.
 They would come and land in my open hand and turn and strut
 and show me all facets of themselves.
 And this would go on for like two or three minutes
 where I would experience gratitude, reverence, delight, and then this other emotion,
 the need to show somebody else what I could do.
 And so then I would walk back to the camp and smiling with a bizarre inward smile,
 I would select one of my campmates and ask them to walk out into the jungle with me.
 And then to their horror, I would stand underneath this tree and gesture
 and ask for the butterflies to come down and land in my hand.
 And people would just turn away in a mixture of horror and embarrassment
 that anyone could be such a jackass, first of all,
 and that anyone could be so mentally deranged as to operate like that.
 And of course the butterflies would have nothing to do with me.
 And I would just be left just sputtering, you know, and it happened many times.
 Many times? Oh, no.
 Oh, many times.
 It's crazy. I mean, that you took people and were left sputtering?
 Well, it was not only the butterflies.
 It was that as long as I had no ego, I could work magic.
 But it was magic that was the necessary magic.
 It absolutely had no use other than to make my life a more perfect work of art.
 As an example, we had a pot in which we cooked a veena, oatmeal, every morning.
 It was our magic pot.
 And the scrubbing out of this pot was a major pain in the neck
 and was consequently a rotating camp duty.
 So in the height of this, it became my turn to scrub this pot.
 And I went down to the little spring where the sand was
 and squatted down by the water and I picked up the sand
 and I rubbed it onto the pot to get ready to scrub it.
 And then I looked and the black stuff was just flaking off.
 It was like easy off or something.
 And I just took the pot, holding it by its two little protrusions
 and immersed it in the spring like this and looked
 and all the black stuff was just flaking off and crudding off.
 And I was just amazed, you know, the magical scouring agent.
 So then I went back to the camp and got my most severe critic.
 And again, smiling with inward benignness, I led them down to the river
 and said, "I'm going to teach you how to wash a pot, the Zen master, you see."
 So we squat across from each other by the spring
 and I pick up the sand and I put it on.
 And she said, "So I'm supposed to know that sand can wash a pot?"
 And I said, "No, look." And again it failed me, you know.
 And I just was... By then I was getting the message and I stopped.
 And there was one other instance which was very puzzling
 because I actually saw another person go into it too.
 And it had to do with this prophecy which my brother had made.
 One of the motifs which circled in his mind space during this period
 was what he called "The Good Shit."
 And this was... He claimed, imagined, that at some time in the past
 he had gotten a sample of Afghani hash that had had cow manure
 very, very carefully worked into it.
 And then the hash had been infected with psilocybin mycelium
 and all of the cow manure had been converted into psilocybin
 so that he had the psilocybinated hash.
 And he had this notion that he would invent a musical instrument
 like an electric guitar, which when you played it
 it would cause the stuff to condense out of the air
 and rain down on great crowds of people.
 So anyway, there was this thing about the good shit.
 And one night he announced that the good shit would appear at a certain time.
 And so then I went back to my hammock in this hut in the jungle
 and the woman who was with me came as well.
 And we had no watches, but he had said that at 11pm the good shit would appear.
 So I was settling down to roll my evening joint
 and it was this Colombian weed that we had brought in with us.
 And as I lit the joint, this little thing fell out of the end of it on the floor, burning.
 And I picked it up and I smelled it and it was unbelievable hashish.
 I mean, hashish to die for.
 And I put it in the pipe and I smoked it.
 And I said to this woman, I said, "Smoke this."
 And she agreed that it was astonishing.
 Oh no, you're a major critic.
 No, not my major critic. My major critic was back at the river.
 And then I looked and I opened this baggie with this stuff and I started smoking it
 and it didn't change its physical appearance.
 It still looked like this Santa Marta gold,
 but the odor and everything was just the finest hash I've ever smoked.
 So I thought that the millennium had come.
 [Silence]


{END}
Wait Time : 0.00 sec
Model Load: 1.17 sec
Decoding  : 2.12 sec
Transcribe: 4934.31 sec
Total Time: 4937.60 sec