16 (30mg a piece), and a shot of tuss (45mg) for a total of about
520mg. This takes a little over an hour and a half for it to really
start to kick in. In the mean while, sundry chores are taken care of
and the place is set up for a long night of non-existance. Drinks are
poured, cigs and ashtrays arrayed for easy grasping, and cushions
strategically located for maximal body comfort. we need to set it up
for when optical vision is gone and movement beyond a few inches is
speculative at best...
Trainspotting: Atomic (Blondie), then Temptation (New Order) are on,
setting the introduction to the first plateau. the room, and the
space directly in fornt of me, seem to flatten and shrink to not more
than six feet on all directions. things five feet away are as big as
the cup a foot away. weird. i didn't hazard to stand up, but imagined
that the circle of light from the lamp on the floor would reveal a
spot of colorful objects (pack of cigs, drink cup, funky 70's
ashtray, cd case) surrounded by a sea of grey emptiness. the first
bowl was fired up.
gary numan (Cars; Are friends electric?) came on next, taking things
into the second plateau. eyes now always closed, the music goes from
images in the top of the head to more substantive action directly in
front of me. bass and trebel separate, and the two are distinct wave
functions doing different things... though, at deeper inspection,
were actually two sides of the same creature...
the lights were turned off. Dark side of the moon was put on, and a
second bowl was ignited. upon completeion and release of the second
intake, a checkerboard of electric green and red cubes began pulsing
in the space behind closed eyelids... interference patterns of yellow
and white formed moire mesh lines indicating what seemed like nerve
junctions... a shell of sensory inputs (the floor, my head, feet,
hands, lungs) expanded out from a central core... har! the Third
plateau has been acheived.
Dark side of the moon is, i think, about the perfect intro tuss disc.
The whole disc (excepting 'Money', and the screaming part of 'the
great gig in the sky') seems to express what it is to be this
dissociated... 30 minutes of music totaly defines reality, in levels
of subtlety that makes the spirit melt with both joy and longing for
more... the phone rings. talking to someone in this state is really
odd. a person, not just a voice, is a million miles away, ut in the
same space you are... the phone is not connecting you, like it does
normally... that person is with you, just out of sight in the
twisting void of tussin space.
back to music. glowing tips of bruning cigs leave tracer images in
the air. My Bloody Valentine. I get it, all the nuances of all the
noises in the "music"... it is anti-music really... MBV successfully
packages the 4-dimensional reality of conciousness, images and god
knows what else into a diffuse pulsing continuum... they are not
songs, but rather "phenomena". and they are the right phenomena to
join you as you see the shell of sensory inputs attenuates into the
background noise level. your body flattens to a 2-dimensional sheet,
and your conciousness lifts off the floor and begins hypnotically
rotating into space....
there is no "here" versus "there". time has no meaning. you feel like
pure conciousness in a space with no vanishing point. it's just you
and the music... the music is not just a tune here, but a form of
communication... more an abstract formula than writing, but here,
abstractions are living, squirming beasts.... you experience the
majesty of floating above diverse concepts and seeing their deeper
unity... an experience, and all the images, moods, thoughts related
to it coalese into a single interaction, just like an MBV song...