Hallucinogenic

Sometimes I think that, maybe, I was born with a natural presence of LSD in my body. I have strange hallucinations, chiefly when I'm halfway between sleeping and wakeful, but sometimes I see things even when I'm fully awake, strange things at the edge of my consciousness that I somehow - for just a split second, but sometimes for much longer - actually believe in.

After I had this thought, that maybe my body chemistry maybe naturally includes a little bit of hallucinogenics, I came to think of something: Our body chemistry is calibrated to see the world in a certain way. We would all see it in more or less the same way because we all have more or less the same body chemistry.

But what if there are facets of reality that we can only see while we're on drugs? What I mean to say is, what if some alternate chemical balance - one induced by, say, LSD - allows us to see things that are really there, but that our normal body chemistry can't translate into the proper neural impulses? What if shamans going on vision-quests aren't just hallucinating, but actually re-calibrating their biological make-up to perceive another spectrum of reality?

There actually isn't anything scientifically impossible or even scientifically unlikely about that thought; perception is a very complicated feat of neurobiology, and evolution would seek to make it practical - but not necessarily correct or comprehensive. If there are things we don't need to see to survive, evolution would make it so that we did not see these things.

The body is a prison. Some days, I just really want to see what the world is like outside its walls.

Anti-Immigration

So the governor of Alabama has signed the harshest anti-immigration law of any American state. On June 9, a bill was signed that makes it a crime to be in Alabama without proof of legal presence. The new crime is called "willful failure to complete or carry an alien registration document".

All immigrants must at all time carry proof of legal presence. Sure, carrying identification is a necessity in modern society, but only if you want to do something. Ordinary people aren't taken into custody just for walking down the street without their ID card. But in Alabama, that may well be the case for anyone who looks foreign. That's a little creepy.

And then I read this: "If a person knew that they were transporting or harboring an undocumented immigrant, they would be committing a crime and subject to punishment of up to a year of jail time."

Am I paranoid if this looks like the beginning of a slippery slope to me?

(Source: Ethics Daily

Skilled Writing

So I already know that I have a powerful imagination, and can be quite sensitive to fiction and art overall. I very easily empathize with main characters in movies and books and feel a slight twinge if someone has, say, their arm cut off.

But when I found a copy of Chuck Palahniuk's "Haunted" at the library, and remembered that I'd read about the incident when Mr. Palahniuk had to stop reading it aloud because people in his audience were fainting, I thought, "Hey, can it really be that bad?"

Apparently it can.

I made it through the introduction without much problems. After about fifteen pages, I was delighted - "This is really taking me out of my comfort zone", I thought, "It's quite provocative."

After another five pages, I was skipping a few lines because I was uncomfortable reading them. At page twenty-three I think it was, I had to close the book because it was making me physically sick and I was afraid I might throw up on it. The fact that the book had big, suspicious yellow stains all over those pages also made me suspect I might not be the first to do so - which didn't help.

In case you're curious, the book more or less starts with one of the characters relating a bunch of anecdotes on people getting injured while masturbating. It starts with "You know autoerotic asphyxiation? Yeah, that's child's play in comparison to what these guys did..." and, well, then it goes on with "That's child's play in comparison to what happened to me."

This blog post is my recognition that, despite being desensitized by years on the Internet, and despite having seen pictures of some pretty gross stuff, Chuck Palahniuk can still cause me to almost vomit, using nothing but words. I tip my hat to that kind of writing skill.

(In the end, I decided to borrow another book.)

On Jesus

"Michael [Cheuk] posted this note on his Facebook page May 21: "Jesus came back today! He was at our local food pantry waiting in line to receive one of 800+ bags of food that was distributed this morning."

Michael's post brought to mind in a vivid way the passage in Matthew where Jesus reminded his disciples (and us) that when we feed the hungry, we are feeding him; every ministry to those in need is a ministry to the Savior."

--there's a proper, Christian way of interpreting Jesus returning, if ever I saw one. More Christians would do well to remember that lesson: The best way to love Christ is to love your neighbour.

The passage is taken from a very interesting website that I just stumbled upon: Ethics Daily.

Broken

Remember that old Greek myth, about how there were once just humans, but then the gods split them apart into man and woman, and they become obsessed with trying to fit themselves back together?

Maybe that's actually a nice metaphor for sexuality overall, hetero- homo- auto- or what-have-you-sexual. Sexuality is in some way, an attempt to fix what is broken. That is why other peoples' sexual hang-ups can seem silly or pointless - because it's not something we ourselves lack. From our point of view, it seems like the other person is trying to fix something that isn't broken.

Heroes

Abd al-Qadir al Jaza'iri

John Woolman

I spend a lot of my time reading, thinking, and writing about heroes. I think it's about time I mentioned these two men. Their stories deserve to be read.

A Duel of Dreams

Tonight I had a triple-layered lucid dream. I think that's the most layers I've had for a good while, and the coolest thing about it is that while I was partially in control of the dream, there were still other agents inside it that I couldn't directly do anything about. I realized that I was dreaming, but I also realized that I wasn't the only dreamer.

It started out fairly straightforward, with an attack on my apartment by bizarre hybrid monsters, such as a gorilla with a terror bird head instead of its right arm. I tried running away from said monsters, but then they started fighting each other; one of them was trying to help me. Before I could properly heed its warning and escape, though, two agents showed up and attacked me, and I was sucked into some kind of vortex and dispatched in a dream-world, a prison world full of mutants, some more human-seeming than others. There, I stumbled upon knowledge of who was behind the plot; one of the agents had an obsession with Napoleon, and using that information I tracked him down and learned that his employer was one of the Fair Folk, a queen of some sort.

It gets crazier. I managed to figure out that I was actually stuck in a dream world at some point around here, and so I tried to escape by waking up. I did, and then went about my day as normal, until I found myself in a grocery store, suddenly surrounded by big crowds of customers asking me how to find everything they were looking for. Eventually it dawned upon me that I was still stuck in a dream, and that my plot hadn't worked. By magical dream logic, I deduced that while I was dreaming, that didn't actually put me on my home turf; the Fair Folk are masters of dream, and can easily snare you even inside your own head. I figured out how to find one of her agents, disguised as a worker in the meat and delicacies section, and entered battle with him. An epic fight ensued, me using dream-shaping against a guy armed with a meat cleaver. Eventually I managed to turn the dream against him, making him forget who he was and turning him into a teenage girl, then ridiculing him until he ran away crying.

Then I made an attempt to wake up. Unfortunately, I still didn't escape, and woke up into an alternate reality instead, one in which I had died five years ago when an obelisk fell on me. I tried desperately to find someone who had known me before my death, but I couldn't find anyone. Eventually I met with a gang of criminals, containing some people I know in real life, but who didn't know me due to the fact that I was dead in this reality - but I managed to convince them to help me, which was good because the other agent was still on my tail.

Here's where it really gets crazy: One of my new gangster friends gave me a cup of noodles, and the cup made me remember the rules for Shaping Combat from Exalted. I realized that, since I was probably still in a dream, I could use these to my advantage. So I shaped away the final agent using the Cup of Desire, turning him into a loving family father, making him forget himself forever. Then I broke free of this dream as well.

That's where I am at now. Two agents have been destroyed, shaped away into dream-figments. The Queen is still out there. I didn't defeat her, but I managed to break free of her. I'm awake.

...at least I think so.