In a dream within a dream, we became aware that we were locked in a heavily enchanted carnivale. (1/9)
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A recovered sliver of text from the long-lost
Capture Book. Beware the devouring mechanisms, the surprising appearance of Holokaustos and Devotos, and the Precision of Ecstasy!
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This piece was part of a
Scrytch project wherein DMF offered up the opening phrase, “They found teeth in my grandmother’s heart,” and left it to each individual scrytcher to come up with tales to accompany this opening. This story is my submission.
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Love begs to be romanticized by definition, but that's a ruse.
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A digital fairy tale about a young woman who realizes that first person video footage from her own life is being posted to YouTube - before the events actually occur in real life.
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Herein you will find a selection of short short stories, guaranteed to occupy very little of your physical time. Messages of a bizarre, ethereal, occasionally disturbing nature are to be found here: images that dance a short while in your frontal lobes and then dissipate before any permanent damage is done.
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My column for
Erowid on psychoactive-related topics: a mix of slapstick, satire, and occasionally serious explorations of how individuals and culture react to the myriad of experiences offered by psychoactives.
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Many people do not realize that after Timothy Leary’s “death” in 1996, Leary’s body was spirited away by freedom-loving entities from a parallel dimension, but his head was captured and subjected to a massive array of insidious CIA experiments before it escaped in 2001. His head is now the picture of vicious psychedelic insanity, suspended by little rockets where its neck once was.
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Some may not recall the days before psychedelic substance action figures were a staple in every young child's toybox... but I was there when the craze began.
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There was a time when Ari "Would Someone
Please Get This Broom Handle Out Of My Ass?" Fleischer needed to be taught a lesson... and who better than yours truly to deliver the message?
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An immortal, nano-powered astronaut hurtles through space with no guidance system, and slowly sinks into a world of memory more real than his actual escape pod.
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The InfiniTek consumer banking division faces off against a certain Hollywood Smith of Davenport, Iowa, over the little matter of a single misplaced penny.
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I remember the day I met Special Agent James Kent, publisher of
Trip, as clearly as I remember the day I took my first bath in liquid LSD. The experiences were remarkably similar, both leaving me emotionally and psychically exhausted, with strange bruises all over my body, and an unexplainable bleeding from directly behind my ears.
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During the year 2002, I became enamored of using the notion of a “tri-state killing spree” as a way to interrupt threads on the
Scrytch list and generally make an annoyance of myself. No opportunity to use “tri-state killing spree” as a punch line or an inappropriate answer was missed, and eventually, the members of the list were forced to act.
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Did I ever tell you about the time I saved my wife JenMoon from an evil horde of cyborg pirates from the future?
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A victim of
War: The Final Battle crashes on a deserted island, only to learn that there is no escape from the clutches of his enemies - for in the end, FAST FOOD will come to us all.
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Even in the earliest days of the Internet, falling in love with the wrong complete stranger via email could bring about the collapse of civilization.
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So then I got the idea that we should start a Steve Miller cover band, because, you know, who doesn't love Steve. (Aside from assholes, I mean.) It did not work out as I expected.
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After nine years of research into incredibly dangerous substances, Dr. Canton Levery finally fled InfiniTek's headquarters in East Berlin and escaped to America. His tales of current drug research are a chilling reminder that InfiniTek remains the undisputed corporate menace of our time (although rumors that InfiniTek began as a tool for disseminating alien technology throughout the world economy are of course entirely unfounded).
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An entire issue of one of the favorite underground magazines from the mid-'90s,
FringeWare Review, as guest edited by yours truly and featuring the work of the Gravity collective.
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