I'm reposting this out of pure vanity.

....I'm sooo evil!


coyote wrote:
what you guys up to today? tell me a story!


Me, Im lying in bed trying to recover from low-grade peritonitis.
Im REALLY bored.



Me Too! Me Too! I wanna tell a story too!

It's 1974.

I'm in Pima Canyon, just north of Tuscon, off the hiking trail
extending from the end of 1st Avenue. Pima was supposed to be
haunted and had been chosen for me by the First Nations mystics I
was working with, to camp in and to hold the arena for the
experiences I was to have (had been having for four years at that
point).

This year, the top of the canyon was blasted by some kind of fire
retardant, as someone had evidently let a campfire get out of
control. They painted the desert red from the air for a 300 meter
circle to put out a fire that was maybe 8 feet across. (unless the
burn spot was the crater from the shell; released by a
malfunctioning early night vision wearing pilot trainee at a spirit
wraith)

So I had camped a little further down from the top under the big Old
Cottonwood tree. In the height of winter the tiny crik still ran a
few inches deep with clear water.

I had my rug out and my blankets arranged. My copy of "Back to Eden"
and "The Herbalist" with the little stash of food near the head.
....

I was interested in the "Spirit Catcher" my teacher had given me. It
seemed like a kind of jews harp, only it was string, and you held it
in your teeth, pulling it tight and humming while strumming the deep
note. This set up a serious resonance in the skull at just the right
note.. Which in turn produced a profound alteration of perceptions.

Or it could have been the 500 mics of pure LSD-25... That could have
had some consequential effect, mayhaps.

I had been given strict instructions for protection circles to be
used while playing the spirit catcher. It was impressed upon me how
vital it was to my safety to at the very least invoke a personal
protection circle, given that my advisers were unsure that I could
pull off a functioning containment circle.

But I was high, and this thing seemed to me to be basically a
musical instrument. I was highly trained in music, after all; and I
was confident that I knew more about this particular type of tool
than they did.

So I ignored the admonitions.

I sat down under the Old Cottonwood tree, and put my back against
its solid, trustworthy trunk. I faced down the valley, towards the
lights of the City, with my back to the high canyon and my bedding
by the tiny crik. The air was sweet with mesquite and those little
nutty flowers...

I put the knot between my molars, and pulled tight the terminator
bone. I plucked the string with the wee funny stick we had made at
the ceremony the week before... I hummed the deep note.

The City lights started to dance. I kept humming. I plucked the
string each time the energy started to die down. I held the taught
line to keep the note... I hummed the deep note.

I looked up at the starry sky. The Stars were dancing. It seemed as
if the whole world was singing the same note, resonating with my
string. The Stars, the Rocks, The Tree, the Canyon... The stream
played counterpoint with its tiny burbling white noise.

It was wonderful. The universe united in a single note of absolute
foundation and harmony. The energy grew... And built... It was
getting bigger and bigger... Soon it was louder than the string I
was playing. This vibration, it was totally getting out of hand.
Even the Earth was resonating with it. I realized that this was more
than only my little string. I was loosing my helm, my position as
conductor of this symphony. I released the string, expecting
everything to stop.

Some expectations are more reliable than others.
This one was less so.

It kept getting louder.
..
..
..
And louder.

Finally, when pebbles were starting to trickle down the canyon walls
from the force of the vibrations, I started to get some seriously
worried. The stars were now milling about and crowding overhead..
The harmony was getting lost. The moon was yelling incoherently.

I got up and moved from the cottonwood to my bedding. I sat in a
full lotus, and forced myself into an alpha state, holding my little
finger with my thumbs and splaying my fingers to each side. I
channeled peace through my chakras.

I managed to separate myself from the cacophony thundering around
me, but the Canyon was still threatening to landslide down upon me
as the deafening din continued.

Now the stars were starting to scream something I couldn't quite
make out...

I was facing the Old Cottonwood tree, gently rocking back and forth,
performing controlled breathing; focusing on its trustworthy living
solidity, its gently rustling leaves were the only thing other than
myself not violently screaming.

Suddenly, a whirlwind touched down right behind me, climaxing
everything with a whipping circular wind for just a few moments...

And then suddenly, everything was silent.

Silent; but not peaceful. Silent, and tense. Tense like about 30
gigawatts of static electric potential focused right behind me.

A lighting bolt worth of standing potential, holding a presence like ...

The bark of the Cottonwood tree was crackling. The branches were
standing out stiff like a woman's hair on a Vandergraph machine.
Rocks of the Canyon were standing up and pointing behind me.

I could almost see some sort of reflection in the tree...

/Suddenly/ a voice emanated from behind me.
"*Why have you called me*?" It boomed in a thunderous voice.

Think fast, I thought to myself. This is /not/ good.
Stall for time, was all I could come up with on short notice.

"Waddaya mean, /I/ called you?", I said. "I'm just sitting here
playing my little string, and you showed up all by yourself!"

The voice, even more imperitive than before, repeated
"*For what purpose have you called me here*!"

I decided to try a different tack, all the while wracking my head
for the lessons I had so blithely ignored at the ceremonies the week
before.. "Why are you so uptight?" I asked.

I felt a tiny hesitation. I pressed my point, "You really don't have
to be so uptight, you know. Why are you feeling that way?"

All this time, I am still facing the tree, with my back to this
/thing/, whatever it is. I had a very strong instinctual gut fear of
facing it. I started wondering about why that was, and seemed to
remember something about getting turned to stone...

Meanwhile, this entity was going on about what an asshole his boss
was, and how everybody who worked for him just acted this way as a
matter of course... And about how the place where they lived and
spent most of their time was very uncomfortable... And how pleasant
it was to get out of the house for a while and come up here where
there was food and space... (I had a little shiver at that)

But I'm sensing an advantage now. I pressed further.
"Why don't you try a different line of work?" I asked.

Again that hesitation. I could feel its mind begin to boggle a
little bit.

"*I could never do that*", It said.

"Why not?", I said. "You are free to go wherever you want. Do
whatever you want."

It started to consider the postulation I was conjuring.

And at that moment, when it began the process of self examination, I
quickly turned, and faced the monster down.

The enormous shadow quickly shriveled and collapsed, turning from an
ephemeris smoky nebulae crackling down like a sheet of plastic into
two rocks, one flat round one standing upon the columnar other in a
mushroom shape.

There, I thought to myself. I turned you to stone. HaHaa!

As I digested my conquest, the sky seemed to lighten just a bit, as
it a cloud had passed from the moon, and I could begin to make out
what the stars were saying to me.

They were calling me by a name. Star were flying in from across the
cosmos to have a look at me. All were examining my spirit and
conferring with each other, turning to me and declaring I was
Kwickzopto!

"What the hell is a Kwickzopto?", I asked.

"You are Kwickzopto", I was told. Over and over again.

I lay down upon my blankets, little mushroom stoneman just beyond
the head. The tiny creek burbling off to my right. I looked up at
the sky for hours, watching as stars from every corner of the
multiverse came and presented themselves before me, each repeating
endlessly: "You must be Kwickzopto!" "You are! You are Kwickzopto!!"
and other variations on that theme. The whole rest of the night.

At dawn, I began my 100 mile hike across the desert.
It took four days. I walked south to the mountain that was destroyed
for uranium, past Edwards Air Force base; skirting what was at that
time the eastern edge of Tucson.


Ahhh, those were the days.



.....


coyote wrote:
Mowe Z. Slowley wrote:

Did you read the story I posted for you in the "peeps"
thread you started while you were bedridden?


I just did - figured that thread died a while ago, so thanks!
Very interesting story - what did you make of it when you woke
up the next day and didnt have all that acid in your head?


Well, that wasn't the next day. I didn't sleep for about three days
after that. The 100 mile hike exhausted me.

When I woke up I was cold and hungry.

And 100 miles from familiar territory.

Yahbut, that doesn't answer my question

The direct answer to your question is this:

I take everything I experience at face value.

Acid or no Acid; I vanquished a demon that night.
Had I done anything differently, I would have been much worse off.

And I gained my spirit name that night, as in the 'spirit quest'
rite of transition. This is/was a traditional native experience for
young men.

It was confusing for me and different from (i.e. much more risky
than) what had been planned by my benefactors, but nevertheless
achieved the intended goal, if only just by the skin of my agile mind.

There never was a next day.
The Sun rises in the east now, and sets in the west.
Everything changes.

--
Be /Good/, Gertie!
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/E.T._the_Extra-Terrestrial

--
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