Wednesday, March 14, 2007
I am Alive!
(5)
In my 'Drog' I used to tell of how I practiced the art of 'self-remembering:' Before going for my daily walk in the Southglenn Maul I would put on an outrageous pair of panties (under my clothes, of course). The feeling of my underwear would aid my self-remembering (stomp above me) and I would be able to do it for the entire 30 minutes or so - unless an unusual situation presented itself, in which case the feel of my underwear would soon remind me of what I had forgot. (Later I would learn to use those unusual events themselves as tools for self-remembering.)
For the first (stomp) few years I would usually experience a return to the state of self- remembering with a shock. But as the years wore on the sense of shock disappeared. I am still not sure whether that was because I got used to the idea of failure or whether I managed to achieve the desired state. In any case it is no longer an issue with me. (I just returned from the living room where I saw a commercial ending with the words, '...living in the moment: priceless.' Hmm...)
Few people ever become interested in this sort of stuff. They were indoctrinated as children and that indoctrination sufficed to limit interest in the esoteric. I was like that too, despite my knowlege of philosophy and my resulting rejection of my childhood religion, but LSD changed my mind.
Which brings us to my final cult recommendation: psychedelic drugs. Strickly speaking, psychedelic drugs are not in themselves any sort of cult, but they are a means by which you can shatter your certainty. Drugs are means, not ends. (Oh by the way: I picked up a new supply of Warfarin today. The woman who served me at the pharmaceutical counter took my order and retrieved the drug prescription, but needed to do a 'Warfarin Verication.' She called a much younger assistant over for that purpose. I saw the occasion as the perfect setup for an Acid Joke. As she approached I put my hand on the empty plastic bag (the Warfarin was already out of the bag) and said, 'But you forgot the LSD!' Being a hip young lady who got the joke immediately she replied with something appropriate and we laughed. But the much older lady seemed somewhat put off by the incident. Only after I smiled at her super sweetly did she regain her former demeanor. I can tell you this much, folks: my new dentures have already paid for themselves.)
Certainty is the enemy.
In my 'Drog' I used to tell of how I practiced the art of 'self-remembering:' Before going for my daily walk in the Southglenn Maul I would put on an outrageous pair of panties (under my clothes, of course). The feeling of my underwear would aid my self-remembering (stomp above me) and I would be able to do it for the entire 30 minutes or so - unless an unusual situation presented itself, in which case the feel of my underwear would soon remind me of what I had forgot. (Later I would learn to use those unusual events themselves as tools for self-remembering.)
For the first (stomp) few years I would usually experience a return to the state of self- remembering with a shock. But as the years wore on the sense of shock disappeared. I am still not sure whether that was because I got used to the idea of failure or whether I managed to achieve the desired state. In any case it is no longer an issue with me. (I just returned from the living room where I saw a commercial ending with the words, '...living in the moment: priceless.' Hmm...)
Few people ever become interested in this sort of stuff. They were indoctrinated as children and that indoctrination sufficed to limit interest in the esoteric. I was like that too, despite my knowlege of philosophy and my resulting rejection of my childhood religion, but LSD changed my mind.
Which brings us to my final cult recommendation: psychedelic drugs. Strickly speaking, psychedelic drugs are not in themselves any sort of cult, but they are a means by which you can shatter your certainty. Drugs are means, not ends. (Oh by the way: I picked up a new supply of Warfarin today. The woman who served me at the pharmaceutical counter took my order and retrieved the drug prescription, but needed to do a 'Warfarin Verication.' She called a much younger assistant over for that purpose. I saw the occasion as the perfect setup for an Acid Joke. As she approached I put my hand on the empty plastic bag (the Warfarin was already out of the bag) and said, 'But you forgot the LSD!' Being a hip young lady who got the joke immediately she replied with something appropriate and we laughed. But the much older lady seemed somewhat put off by the incident. Only after I smiled at her super sweetly did she regain her former demeanor. I can tell you this much, folks: my new dentures have already paid for themselves.)
Certainty is the enemy.
