The Reader Travels

In Marion Zimmer Bradley’s The Forest House, mushrooms are the drug of choice. In her poisoned haze, the high priestess can see the past, the future and the present. Like the Druids, San Francisco’s youth are also famed for their appreciation of hallucinogens, even if they do lack the sensibility and spirituality of Avalon’s priestesses.

In actuality, the priestesses don’t have any more sense than the trippin’ hippies of the ’60s. They’re still self important, immature and insecure, worshipping self destruction. But at least they’re not doing it because everyone else is doing it, like a bunch of sheep. They kept it to a few high-placed individuals, seers, who sacrificed their well being for their people.

It was okay when LSD was limited to people like Aldous Huxley and Carey Grant, mature individuals exploring the recesses of their minds, privately, like Plato’s philosopher kings. But the masses would only abuse this gift. “Hey man, let’s drop acid and go to Six Flags. Won’t that be righteous? Duh, huh.”

We can blame it all on The Beatles, right?

This entry was posted on Monday, February 12th, 2007 at 10:09 pm and is filed under US and Canada, fantasticalities, meanderings. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.