The Mystery Person wrote back on Tuesday but I haven’t been able to finish my reply and post until today. M.P.s letter is in bold, my replies are in italics –
I am sorry to hear about your mother…
Given what I’ve read about Alzheimer’s Disease, Aged Mother is actually doing really well. She knows she’s loved, she knows where she is (while not remembering the time or date) and that she’s with her family. She exhibits no desire to wander. She isn’t exhibiting any of the rage or anxiety that some Alz patients apparently do. All things considered, she’s doing great. Nizzibet and I could definitely use more sleep and more non-A.M. time but we’ll do what we need to do to see this through. Oooh. Rhymie.
I have read through your blog. Perhaps I’m thinking too far inside the box, but I don’t get your references to the big guy. What does Skook represent? That is, assuming that I SHOULD take him figuratively.
You always were a bit on the edge David, but I don’t see you slipping to the point of literally believing you’ve got a Sasquatch in the house. Of course this could all be long-term delirium resulting from chemical alterations to your mind. Hard to say, right?
Skook represents nothing. That is to say – sometimes a sasquatch is a just a sasquatch. And if he likes eating cigars I wouldn’t try to stop him.
I’m not much of a metaphoric thinker. I can do it easily enough but I’m less interested in something’s metaphoric weight than its physicalness. In other words, I don’t read (or write or imagine) stories about vampires (for instance) as a fantastic explorations of addiction or parasitic relationships, I read (write/imagine) stories about vampires to explore the experience of being a resurrected corpse that drinks blood to continue its existence.
No worries about my grasp on reality. I let go of that years ago. There is a sasquatch living in my garage but I’ll never get to show him to you. He knows how to make himself scarce. Sasquatches are good at hiding in plain sight.
Or more specifically, here in this journal, reality is whatever I want to pay attention to at the time I’m writing. A lot of entries never get posted. Even more never get written. Much of what I do only interests me for the time it takes for me to do it.
Many years ago, I toyed with a profoundly mind-altering substance. Not satisfied with the effect, I intensified it through the syncope game (intense hyperventilation followed by an assistant lifting and arching the body back). Perhaps you’ve heard of this, or even tried it. Although no one really thinks about it when playing, the idea is to create a near-death experience by a precipitous but very momentary drop in blood pressure to the brain.
I guess this all sounds very grotesque, but the result is incredibly profound. People observing this simply see the participant lose consciousness for a few moments. When arriving back at a conscious state, the participant always looks completely shocked and disoriented. This is because they entered another world and lived in it for a couple of hours in the few seconds that they were out.
With each “round” of the syncope game, the length of time in the other world increases. I think by the forth round I was there a few days — I walked around a city, and I think I actually even went to work a couple of times. On the fifth round, I don’t recall ever coming back out of it. I’m sure I did, but I always have this nagging feeling…
Your trip sounds like fun. Similar to some of NO2 stunts I used to pull though I don’t recall getting away from this reality quite so far. That is to say, NO2 would put me off in another place but it was always just a short visit. What drug were you using?
The thing about drug experiences (hell, experiences in general) is that the subject experience often differs vastly from the objective (or observable) experience. Unfortunately too much of our culture says that the objective world is the only real world. Much of the time that objective world is still being observed and interpreted subjectively and the observer is stubbornly attached to their interpretation as being the “real” one.
Have you read any Ken Wilber? I particularly recommend A Brief History of Everything. He lays out one of the most inclusive interpretations of the world that I’ve run across. I wish I could summarize his work but part of his thesis is that we do ourselves, our cultures and our world damage by our tendency toward reductionism.
The Office of National Drug Control Policy states that drug use permanently alters the chemical structure of the brain. I would argue that so does thinking.
No doubt drug use changes the brain. So does juggling. Though the effects in the case of juggling are apparently temporary.
Thought for the day: Dopamine.
Thought for the Friday: Dope a mime.
And there you have our latest exchange. I still don’t know who M.P. is. That would require more personal details than I’ve gotten so far. I suspect that M.P. is male but even that is uncertain. It’s a kneejerk assumption of mine based on M.P.’s writing style and the whole gaming aspect of this communication.
Of course, all this could be a co-incidence and there’s another David Lee Ingersoll out that M.P. knew. Or M.P. could be completely gaming me and not have ever met me at all. Stay tuned.