abaddon
Penultimate Amazing
I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Got the beard dealy and all.
Looking for Skeptics
- Thread starter Cassidy
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I'm Captain Jack Sparrow. Got the beard dealy and all.
Donn
Philosopher
Must ... praise ... the Unholy Abaddon. So beard it.
tsig
a carbon based life-form
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- Nov 25, 2005
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Hi, I'm new here, and I'm looking for good manneredskeptics. I would love to take part in the Randi challenge, but I'm afraid to fly. Before I approach a UK base organisation "ASKE" I would welcome your opinion on the evidence of the supernatural I've gathered since last October.
Thank u
Looks like she was looking for skeptics in all the wrong places.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uni6MhgaDzs
asydhouse
Master Poster
PartSkeptic
Illuminator
I attended a course in Vedanta by James Schwartz. A stereo-typical guru. I was unimpressed, and less impressed when he answered my question on God by replying that God was what I thought God to be. His story has some similarities to yours - India and drugs. I will concede that he appears to be an intelligent man.
See http://www.shiningworld.com.
asydhouse
Master Poster
I've had a quick look at the website in your link... about the only similarity is just as you mention: drugs and India. And even there, since he started out as an alcoholic, and I have never been a drinker, I suspect our two paths through both drugs and India are also completely different.
The thing is, I have rejected mysticism, while he has embraced it. The bs scrolling headline he puts up at the top of his home page says it all. Pure baloney, precisely what I write against in my blog. Did you read my blog?!
He's still in the role-playing game I also mention in my blog: dressing up and playing a game as deep as reality... but not in fact real.
Mojo
Mostly harmless
Donn
Philosopher
Just gotta say: great thought!
asydhouse
Master Poster
Yes, but I won't say thanks, because it's not a poem, it's the simple truth. All of us westerners in India were basically playing a game: a great adventure, and with all the depth of reality to dress our mind trips in the convincingly visceral sensorium of our presence.
Occasionally I'd look around and go "Wow! I'm really here!" in the vivid subtropical world of India, where the acuity of vision resonates with the vibrant sunlight which causes the plants to burst upwards towards the light with an energy of growth and form that literally explodes in seemingly joyous response to the intensity of life-giving sunlight. Being from grey Britain, it was a trip!
Also, to look around at my companions from all over the world, a self-selected sample of free living and creative out-going travellers and freaks... people with style and earthy beauty of experience... it was a real playing out of the roles of being the psychedelic freaks counter to the straight culture... it was fun!
But really it was all just a role-playing game we took maybe too seriously.
Hmmm... maybe I should add this to my blog! I only dropped a reference to this idea there, maybe this fleshes out my thought more specifically. (By the way, I don't decry or eschew that game even now... I love going to psytrance festivals and dancing with the freaks!... I just recognise it for the game it is.)
asydhouse
Master Poster
Hmmm, I see that my next post will be the number of the beast, number 666!
In order to pass through that weird milestone, I'm going to pass through it here in this thread about pareidolia, which is apt:
During my psychotic episode at the end of my time in India, one of the things suggested to me by my tormenters (who were they? Undercover police? Satanist freaks? I don't know.) was this sound "six six six" which is a sussurus which teases at the edges of hearing, teasing the mind to stretch, the ears to reach... exactly what they had me doing all along to try to understand what they were trying to tell me, and which led to my lasting pareidolia with bird sounds in the end.
I'd never heard of the number of the beast, but as time went on it was told to me by somebody or other as I was passing through a hostel or something... so long ago, the details are all hazy now. A mix of vivid and hazy memories, jumbled time line...
One unexpected and surprising experience was late one night as I got onto a bus. I'd just been sitting in a cafeteria in the university grounds (no one else was there), resting, and two guys came in (Indian students, but one a bit older) and approached me, and started talking to me as if they knew all about what was happening to me. It was odd, because one was friendly, but the other seemed to be containing himself with a great anger, which he seemd hard put to restrain from boiling over threateningly towards me. (Good cop, bad cop?)
Anyway, the friendly one asked if I was enjoying my trip... After a while I left, and a bus came along, and I got on it (not knowing where it was going... movement was important, not destination... I was drifting, expecting something to guide me), and as I got on the bus the conductor said to my face a sound like "sweessss" and suddenly I felt as if my body and consciousness were swept through with a lightness, as if I momentarily turned to steam and dissolved and relaxed... a magical moment!... I just went and sat in a seat and sat in that afterglow mindless peace.
It washed away slowly, but I rode through the night for awhile enjoying the peace.
It sure seemed like the world was a magical place... but I had confidence in my integrity and didn't get worried about magic spells being put on me... I'd got past that some days ago already, I was being positive and receptive and heartful...
Now I see it as having been just one more symptom of my psychotic state at the time. Others would have wound up in servitude to a guru, I expect, but I didn't want that, having already escaped from Rajneesh in Poona!
Anyway, that 666 business was a nasty human sacrifice-tinged vibe that came later, towards the end, when I think they'd got fed up with me and were just trying to get rid of me. I came back to Britain and found that the number of the beast was now a popular meme amongst the dubious types who dabble in the underground, and fancy themselves magicians or what have you.
It was another touchpoint to induce the fear in me, the uncertainty and vulnerability that had been instilled at the end (and the beginning) of my experiences during the last 3 or 4 months of my time in India. (The middle bit was where I raised myself to marvellous positivity, which included the little trip on the bus as described above)(Which I did wonder if it wasn't that those guys had spiked me with a little acid...)
Anyway, that sussurus sound of 666 was a pareidolia tool for the people that were messing with my mind. For a long time afterwards I would be stricken with a fear if the number happened to come up (happening to look up just in time to see a house with that number for instance). A terrible burden to carry through life.
Now I can laugh, but only in the last 15 years am I truly free of it... after spending ten years getting a BSc from studying correspondence courses in physics and maths and a couple of other sciences like oceanography with the Open University... which was a really great experience that gave me a huge respect for science, and for all the unsung heroes of science who had done the dogwork of getting good quality data!
So I thought I'd celebrate my 666th post by explaining this, in this thread, which I felt an appropriate place to celebrate it!
In order to pass through that weird milestone, I'm going to pass through it here in this thread about pareidolia, which is apt:
During my psychotic episode at the end of my time in India, one of the things suggested to me by my tormenters (who were they? Undercover police? Satanist freaks? I don't know.) was this sound "six six six" which is a sussurus which teases at the edges of hearing, teasing the mind to stretch, the ears to reach... exactly what they had me doing all along to try to understand what they were trying to tell me, and which led to my lasting pareidolia with bird sounds in the end.
I'd never heard of the number of the beast, but as time went on it was told to me by somebody or other as I was passing through a hostel or something... so long ago, the details are all hazy now. A mix of vivid and hazy memories, jumbled time line...
One unexpected and surprising experience was late one night as I got onto a bus. I'd just been sitting in a cafeteria in the university grounds (no one else was there), resting, and two guys came in (Indian students, but one a bit older) and approached me, and started talking to me as if they knew all about what was happening to me. It was odd, because one was friendly, but the other seemed to be containing himself with a great anger, which he seemd hard put to restrain from boiling over threateningly towards me. (Good cop, bad cop?)
Anyway, the friendly one asked if I was enjoying my trip... After a while I left, and a bus came along, and I got on it (not knowing where it was going... movement was important, not destination... I was drifting, expecting something to guide me), and as I got on the bus the conductor said to my face a sound like "sweessss" and suddenly I felt as if my body and consciousness were swept through with a lightness, as if I momentarily turned to steam and dissolved and relaxed... a magical moment!... I just went and sat in a seat and sat in that afterglow mindless peace.
It washed away slowly, but I rode through the night for awhile enjoying the peace.
It sure seemed like the world was a magical place... but I had confidence in my integrity and didn't get worried about magic spells being put on me... I'd got past that some days ago already, I was being positive and receptive and heartful...
Now I see it as having been just one more symptom of my psychotic state at the time. Others would have wound up in servitude to a guru, I expect, but I didn't want that, having already escaped from Rajneesh in Poona!
Anyway, that 666 business was a nasty human sacrifice-tinged vibe that came later, towards the end, when I think they'd got fed up with me and were just trying to get rid of me. I came back to Britain and found that the number of the beast was now a popular meme amongst the dubious types who dabble in the underground, and fancy themselves magicians or what have you.
It was another touchpoint to induce the fear in me, the uncertainty and vulnerability that had been instilled at the end (and the beginning) of my experiences during the last 3 or 4 months of my time in India. (The middle bit was where I raised myself to marvellous positivity, which included the little trip on the bus as described above)(Which I did wonder if it wasn't that those guys had spiked me with a little acid...)
Anyway, that sussurus sound of 666 was a pareidolia tool for the people that were messing with my mind. For a long time afterwards I would be stricken with a fear if the number happened to come up (happening to look up just in time to see a house with that number for instance). A terrible burden to carry through life.
Now I can laugh, but only in the last 15 years am I truly free of it... after spending ten years getting a BSc from studying correspondence courses in physics and maths and a couple of other sciences like oceanography with the Open University... which was a really great experience that gave me a huge respect for science, and for all the unsung heroes of science who had done the dogwork of getting good quality data!
So I thought I'd celebrate my 666th post by explaining this, in this thread, which I felt an appropriate place to celebrate it!
asydhouse
Master Poster
And now I have moved on past that number (with a kind of slight echo of my old aversion, so I don't linger on that number of posts...)
So that now I have 667 posts!
So that now I have 667 posts!
asydhouse
Master Poster
Oh. That makes me feel a bit embarrassed, and sort of belittled. Looking back over this page, it looks like most of it is written by me. Do you think Ladewig is saying I've gone too far? Should I have kept my mouth shut?
Whatever, I will from now on. Sorry.
Whatever, I will from now on. Sorry.
I think that "didn't miss much" was more of a comment that things with flaccon were in stasis.
It's not that unusual for that to happen, and other things to get commented on.
Obviously, some people are interested in your story.
Rather than shut up, you could flag down a passing mod, and ask them to split your stuff out to another thread.
It's not that unusual for that to happen, and other things to get commented on.
Obviously, some people are interested in your story.
Rather than shut up, you could flag down a passing mod, and ask them to split your stuff out to another thread.
PartSkeptic
Illuminator
Not so. Some of you Westerners. I know some and have met some who are serious minded and do not take drugs. A few have one mystic experience, but mostly they learn about the culture. Eighties, nineties, and later.
There are some who take it as a game, and some who like to believe and try to make it real, but only a few really know the meaning of some rituals, and derive value from them. I am halfway - I can observe, enjoy, or get some insight. The serious stuff can be great fun even for a non-believer.
After a couple of mild drug experiences, I avoided them because of their mind altering affects. If one is artistic they seem to help, but as an engineer, I could not afford to mess up my analytic capability.
PartSkeptic
Illuminator
I did read/skim some of your blog. I don't know that he believes what he does. I do know he makes money and travels around the world. Not to mention the ego trip he gets from impressing (impressionable) people, especially some naive young women.
asydhouse
Master Poster
But the things I've posted here were in relation to this thread... if they were split, the whole would be just me blathering about my experiences, which isn't really the point of my having posted them. If they were taken out of the context of this thread, it would look like attention-grabbing on my part, or worse still an attempt to get more visitors to my website... I would feel uncomfortable with that. (Not more visitors, but with the sense that it was all "advertisements for myself".)
I would hate to feel that people thought I was trying to hijack this thread. But I don't want to dump all my posts here into a bag of me.
Anyway, I think I have told enough, there's not much more I could contribute about the pareidolia theme now without doing precisely that, so I'll limit myself in this thread to simply adding my comments to others' contributions from now on anyway.
Thanks for your response though, by the way, TjW. I felt like I'd suddenly realised I'd walked into a room without my pants on, when I read Ladewig's comment!
Pixel42
Schrödinger's cat
I for one think your contributions were highly relevant to this thread, aydhouse, and would not want them moved.
asydhouse
Master Poster
I didn't say the game wasn't taken seriously. As deep as reality. But even those who "do not take drugs" (and to my mind especially some of those, cosy in their own fantasy of mystical study) are playing a role game... the mystical "seekers after truth".... in fact, even the Indians are playing those games... some sincerely, some as corruptly as their politicians are playing their game...
"Learning about the culture"? India is corruption on all levels. The culture is inextricable from the caste system, which is one of the most deeply horribly corrupting systems of thought and cultural organisation ever devised by the devious mind of man! If westerners are over there deluding themselves they are finding "spiritual truth" in "the culture", they are more deluded than the junkies who are simply managing their habit without any illusions about what they are doing.
I've no idea what this means. "I've had a couple of experiences of music, but I didn't like it."
Do you see what I mean? The use of psychedelics, for instance, is a deeply serious matter, and demands more of a true devotion of oneself than adoring a guru, or meditating in a cave... and is far more likely to get real and deep results.
But it's a game nevertheless. I don't mean to belittle the game by calling it that. I'm just trying to get at the fact that people do not really know what they are doing, or really where they are, if they are not born into it (and even then, their understanding is unlikely to be complete... just deeper than the incomers). There's always an element of selectivity in comprehension, or in what you take from the culture you are entering from the outside.
In the case of the "drug culture", that's being generated by the participants, and as such is a vey real ongoing game in the process of being invented.
Some drug games are already terminally determined, such as the heroin cul de sac. Others like the charas game are deeply rooted in human history, but also malleable and responsive to new influences and players. The psychedelics game is an open-ended, infinitely extendable game of possibilities...
Hence the meaninglessness of your reference to "drugs".
As to messing up your analytic capability: Albert Hoffmann, the discoverer of LSD, lived to be over 100 years old, and retained his chemist's analytical brain in articulate, healthy condition right up to the end. Perhaps the propaganda surrounding psychedelics has been a distorting influence in people's grasp of what that's all about, do you think?
As with religion, the automatic respect accorded to "non drug" study of mysticism is unwarranted. And the automatic dismissal of drugs as being immoral or what have you is a hangover from Puritan religious influence in our own flawed culture.
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