How much harm can drugs do? No seriously. Albert Hofmann the Swiss citizen and chemist extraordinaire passed away yesterday, the 29th of April 2008, in the village of Burg im Leimental near Basel having lived a fecund 102 years. He is the man who chemically synthesized LSD, to him in 1935 a lysergic acid derivative which he called LSD 25. No he did not follow the find with Lucy and the sky. Instead he set aside his discovery for five years. In 1943 when he returned to it he met with luck. Inspiration came to him one evening on his bike ride home. He had involuntarily/accidentally absorbed a quantity of the acid. Upon realization of its potential, he administered to himself deliberate quantities of the substance in a series of self-experiments conducted with his colleagues.
It was around this time, three days after he first discovered the effect of LSD, on April 22nd to be precise, that he started writing about these experiments.
His work met with approval and he was promoted to the directorship of the natural products department of Sandoz (now Novartis). His study on hallucinogenic substances continued and he turned his attention to Mexican mushrooms. This led to the synthesis of ‘psilocybin, the active agent in many magic mushrooms. His curiosity now attracted him towards the seeds of the Mexican morning glory species Rivea Corymbosa which are called ‘ololiuhqui’ by the indigenes.
In 1962 he undertook with his wife Anita a voyage to southern Mexico in search of the plant ‘Ska Maria Pastora’ which in English translates into the beautiful ‘Leaves of Maria the Shepherdess’ (Latin ‘Salvia Divinorum’). The discovery of its active chemicals however eluded him. (Science has identified it since as diterpenoid Salvinorin A).
Albert Hofmann was not just the accidental creator of LSD as chosen by providence. And even if that was true it has to be said for him that he was a lifelong champion of its use and application. He called LSD ‘medicine for the soul’ and questioned its worldwide prohibition. He accepted that maybe in the hands of the 60s youth movement it had found addicts who were taking its consumption to reckless limits. But he maintained that proscription of the drug was akin to throwing the baby out with the bathwater. He remained a firm advocate of the therapeutic uses of LSD.
‘I think that in human evolution it has never been as necessary to have this substance LSD. It is just a tool to turn us into what we are supposed to be.’


For further reading—
The Road to Eleusis: Unveiling the Secret of the Mysteries
Co- authors—R.G. Wasson, Carl Ruck and Blaise Staples
Wikipedia describes this book as that ‘…which reveals the secret mystic elixir that is at the heart of these mysteries, and therefore, fundamental to the development of Western civilization.’
Also
Entheogens and the future of Religion- essays
Outside Looking In- discussion of his relationship with ‘LSD provocateur’ Timothy Leary.
See also- wikipedia- albert hofmann

as i lay reflecting on utopia, i realized that since humans can't be trusted to reform, it figures therefore that for those that are all three(here refer to blog previous footnote)god makes americans under george bush.

Drawing from a cigarette as I cast a sidelong glance to the burning tobacco, I remembered a similarly shot campaign that drew attention to the (guess what) dangers of smoking. So the next time (both if you smoke or not) you look at me or anyone smoking and sigh how I am risking my health, think that I am merely a stuntman, executing the dangerous. It is merely entertainment. It is either art in the French way, or propaganda the Chinese way. As the former it is to be accepted with a shrug and as the latter it is to be protested, the practice encouraged to reinforce personal freedom and the Olympic torch doused to register our protest.
Seriously, what can you do, except fart secretly and then sniff the air.
In the secret life it matters little whether you are racist or a homophobe, whether you give love for sex or the other way round, if you keep your prejudices to yourself even if you couldn’t care about conquering them. You enjoy yours, I have mine



Ps- the fart may still leave a bad stench, but if no one owns up we’ll have no one to blame. And if this utopian climate continues for some length of time we will have either
A society where no one owns up, or
A society where no one is blamed.

Ps 2- but this is acceptable only so long as farting is the most serious crime.

Corollary to ps
Society where everybody is to blame and no one owns up
Society where everybody owns up and there’s no point blaming. Okay okay I am stopping now

The gods keep waiting for a shower that jump to hasty conclusions, turn to cicadas that arrive at unsubstantiated ones, and make trapeze artists those that are indecisive

And russel hammond goes real real real. Your friends are real, you are real people, for god’s sake this light is real, this switch is real. I was transfixed. I started thinking, as did all America. At least those that are going to vote for obama. Barrack obama. Quite contrary to a poll that says that the majority of classic rock listeners will vote for the republicans. Although it matters, prima facie, little to us (do you really think). But seriously who do you think a classic rock fan will vote for…
Without being sexist, hilary Clinton’s lying through her teeth. The flotus running for cover from sniper fire. Wtf… and all this deceit while obama’s been putting his finger on the nerve of the American dark age. Black and white, and he’s not ashamed to show that he knows his rainbow. And wants to keep it beautiful.
To draw the cheese of this pun, he knows what is wright and what is wrong, and he ain’t afeard of fighting it. His speech is a landmark for our times, for multiculturalism and for equality.

More forays into north pole.
It’s the first time im seeing ice. Earlier pictures never made me think about the cold, I only thought it was nice. At -20 c the body begins to cave in upon itself. The skin turns to the bones for warmth.
Saw a polar bear. Must always remember there are no hyenas in Africa. Haven’t checked though.
Was told in my childhood that Greenlanders lick each other instead of bathing. Again now there’s good reason to doubt its verity.
The bear was all white except for the mouth. But for it even from very close it looks like a white mound. Mohenjo daro. That’s what I am planning to call this first bear if I can tell it apart from the many more I am hopefully going to see in the days to come.
Here too delusion. Every morning waking up in the hope of seeing penguins…
Eskimos!!! In my part of the world it would be a name for a fridge or an ac. Even an ice cream bar. Here it is all the company I will get provided the rest of my party don’t get frozen to death or lost in a snowstorm.
Trying to fathom the philosophy behind staying in the arctic circle. To me makes no sense unless one is evading tax or is a fugitive from the law. In which case I should book a plot here. Have to check with the natives, but first must think of polite way of asking.
Not that it was the first question that came to mind, but it will not be entirely out of context to record here that I havent yet been able to form any definite idea on how the inuits dispose of their dead.
I was told that they merely left the dead out in the open and in this manner their burial was a night’s work for the falling snow which entombed the corpse in a snowy crypt. Interesting… but however on further enquiries I have learnt that this practice is now on the wane because a few years back one such cadaver carelessly flung rolled down a precipice and snowballed into an avalanche that caused much damage in a hamlet at the foothills which on that night was holding its annual prom. Apparently, for years after that no girl in that sleepy village bore any children. Thankfully that has changed and on my trip to the village I saw amongst many other things a santa claus school that has its headquarters in san Francisco.
But that still leaves me with the original question. Discreet inquiries, where not rebuffed, for the Eskimo people are a superstitious lot living as they do for six months in complete darkness, suggest that there is a grave mafia at work which manages the lucrative space for burials business. This international cartel that has had previous experience in this trade in the deserts of Africa and Arabia before the coalition of the willing moved in exercises a strong control over their domain. For the locals this arrangement works out fine, but they were not sure about an alien dead body because that would involve interference from the government.
Although when receiving our briefs we were told to have as much fun as we could, one of the small bits that make up the list of our research objectives is to investigate the survivability of common Indian domestic pests in sub zero temperatures. For these purposes have brought along with us families of cockroaches, lizards and ants, christened respectively the Gandhi, bachhan and the yadav families. Till now all the animals have done remarkably well and have displayed the dogged tenacity that also distinguishes their namesakes. The hostile climate seems to threaten them but little…
Met a zamboni driver and later the ice princess, his snow vessel.
will record further as interesting things occur...

Nowadays I want ice lollies. Coming and going. It still isnt particularly hot but all the signs of summer are visible little by little. Again in the sun’s favour it has to be said that I haven’t stepped out all that much. Rest of the time I have myriad thoughts and one remarkable such was a dream I had of the North Pole. I traveled thither in a train that split the unmarked wilderness to the both sides of me with the grey track on either side of which were lush green conifers. Deep brown wood. On this journey I will have all the love that would be all I need. In the sparse strangeness of a new house, there is no suffocation of known spaces and things. Im living between the shadow and the silence. It was always night in the Arctic Circle. A snow clad darkness and an enthralling peace. The only time I have felt the heat has been during the power cuts. Someone pulls away the curtain in the morning and I wake up sunburnt. That happens in the mornings.
People have gone behind and forward in time, heroes have been photographed without armour and the world is a little more restive and belligerent, but I am still going for football. Erratically like the maverick rain of the past evenings, grace is a name of the lord. Furious, noisy rain that tore open banners and flyers and showed what nature can wreak on soaps (serial type), insurance, and beauty. From my balcony I could see. After the rain had stopped when the breeze was stronger yet. In the night I met the tigress and she saw me keep my coat and knew I was going to forget it.