Editor's note: The following piece has been crafted by Scooby Finch, a fine and upstanding American agent of the heretofore covert organisation known as the G.I.A., or Gaian Intelligence Agency whose agents are affiliated with Prescience and the on-going work of Prescience. Keen readers might well recall Scooby's rather fabulous article Divining Gaia in Prescience Vol. 2. This subsequent piece, fully loaded I might add, concerns the remarkable substance Dimethyltryptamine or DMT. Although found in many species of plant throughout the world where it is often employed in shamanic rituals, DMT is also found in the human brain where its function may well be to do with dreaming. Whatever the case, it is clear from Scooby's piece that the induced DMT experience reveals in a quite spectacular manner just how vast are the realms of inner space. The transcendental Other, the advanced alien presence the collective human psyche so clearly longs for, may well be nearer than we might suppose...

.....50mg of synthetic DMT placed in a glass pipe on a small bed of dill. There followed three large, hot, plastic-tasting tokes:
Upon inhalation, the trembling darkness before me crystallized instantly into a shimmering vortex of lime-coloured tessera and began a meticulous implosion in upon itself. Pulses of sinuous electric energy shot along it from behind me and I could see them disappear down its infinite corridor. Each one came faster and faster and faster until this typhoon like tunnel was throbbing with supple, supernova pulsations. It was then that I began to accelerate, an auditory drone that seemed to flange at the edges of my being propelling me along. I couldn't believe the breakneck speed with which I was beginning to move, like a proton in a hyperspatial supercollider. The breathtakingly ecstatic sensation of being literally shot out of the confines of my corporeal body was overwhelming, and already my mind was grasping wildly about for some semblance of familiarity.
No previous DMT journey had ever moved this fast. The vortex started coiling then, curling and cycling into its cylindrical self, and I became aware that it was but one strand in a warping and wefting dimension which was now materialising and taking on a thousand outlandish forms all around me. Ahead was an entirely ludicrous, tensile, concentric, mandala-like disco-medusa that wore about it a technicolor dreamcoat of fibrillating antennae, surrounded by an ultraviolet aura. Instantly I could tell it was alive: some sort of a sentinel. Then seemingly out of nowhere and from every direction at once came these freakish tentacles of liquid lapis lazuli. They began moving together with an almost orchestral hyperprecision, and I was completely mesmerised - it was like nothing I had ever seen. I had absolutely no idea what I was looking at - there must literally have been thousands of them - I was utterly flabbergasted.
I knew I must find a way past this creature though, as extraordinary as she was. We were still cruising along at the speed of light, now descending backwards together through an amoeboid, octahedral gallery of iridescent vaults. It was at this moment that I became suddenly aware that we were not alone. The vaults seemed to zoom explosively outward then and the gallery expanded ad infinitum into a gargantuan, labyrinthine, almost interstellar space, and through every vault poured the miraculous and zany imps who make the tryptamine hyperdimension their home.
The tentacles of lapis lazuli gathered these capricious, multicoloured enigmas in towards the centre, and became the architectonic scaffolding of their new multi-dimensional reality, a world which I found myself dab smack in the middle of. It was like a liquid mind ecology of staggering and alien complexity, the mind as it crosses over into quantum warpdrive and migrates ever further out into the oceanic beyond. At this point the glorious geometries transcended what is even vaguely feasible in this three dimensional mundane, constantly concrescing into new and variegated permutations, exfoliating out of themselves what might be called hyperspherologies of the divine, and to look anywhere was to be shot clean through with scintillating amazement.
Crowding and cramming themselves into my field of vision were thousands upon thousands of beings of every imaginable sort and many that were completely unimaginable. They were everywhere, jabbering in indecipherable tongues, juggling incandescent neon microworlds of dancing beings, and morphing with a zen-like, diaphanous fluidity that remains a primal miracle no matter how often you lay your all too human eyes on them.
The primordial intelligence being manifest before me was palpable, undeniable, transcendently amazing - it shook me to my core in a more-than-real gleeful profundity. All I could do was sit there in divine liquid awe, my soul gaping wide open, and stare at the incalculable proportions of bizarreness and the down right weird that lay before me. It was like being entertained by the 76,000 piece orchestra of an alien civilisation in whose classical music each note is not merely a musical tone, but an entire world, each just as intricate and nuancical as our own. You have a sense of being swarmed by the whimsical mastermind artforms of an extremely eccentric Boolean contortionist, a diabolical merry-go-round of linguistic Rubix cubes, 13th dimensional millipedes saying themselves to themselves as they make love, and impossible Gordian knots dancing the jitterbug at a lyrical lightspeed: a gelatinous ballet of endlessly self-juxtaposing pirouettes. You realise all at once you have arrived and are now having darshan with this gigantically insectoid, otherworldly Oz.
They came at me again and again, a more than possible tsunami of opalescent combobulations, like rivers of music and miracles and clowns, the flood gates of my soul thrown wider than wide with the sheer magnitude of this dazzling, world-devouring spectacle. It was the primal, otherworldly bewilderness of the Andalusian gardens that grow in the antipodes of the mind, the crystalline vegetal perplexity of its delectable ecologies spilling and dripping and pouring like liquid diamonds from my eyes. The presence of what is awesome, what is wildly and passionately and numinously alive, filled every meridian in the vast continent of my expanded being, an intensity of joy and love and life coursing like heavenly ambrosia through my electrified veins. It was as though I myself was god, moving through liquid ecologies of god, the self-crystallising emerald labyrinths of the tryptamine dreamtime, a marvellous infundibulum of plasmoidal callisthenics. What occurred was a total meltdown of everything I know and hold dear, utter surrender into the honeycomb lovewomb of the universe reborn, born anew in a thousand unendingly magnificent eyes, and Maya and Lila handheld spinning in sundream dandelions, my five senses spinning like a zillion gyroscopes round the centripetal amethyst of this all and everything...
I was there, and then I was back - zap like before
- I was back before I even knew I was back, the dimensions subsiding very
quickly within me as the last few molecules of DMT were cracked wide open
and gone. The room before me buzzed and shimmered like the most unlikely
dream. The world? Oh yes - I remember - I like it there. Hello people. You
look so normal and good. But wait, something just happened. What was that
thing? Oh YES, OH MY LORD YES.....everything was still a shimmering mindmirage or bliss
and joy and awe. WOW! I think I said that:
To think that we all spend hours there every night, after we have been metabolised away that is, and that every day the collectivity of human consciousness looks upon that miracle for over 50 billion hours, is more than any of us can even begin to begin to understand. Seven minutes spent in that dimension, the primal furnace of our being, is enough for most people to think about for the rest of their lives. How miraculously absurd and awe-inspiring is our situation as humans then, that we are somehow built around this certain little molecule, only four atoms away from serotonin, the neurotransmitter which mediates and colours every aspect of our waking lives. It is like the human body is a door, a portal, and DMT is the key that opens our experience to the all-possible, the everything dimension, which surrounds us on all sides though we see it not. That the simple quantum difference of four atoms can open this for anyone to see is, and will remain, the greatest, most mysterious enigma in this life. The day we unlock its secrets we will for the first time awaken from the dream.
Scott can be reached at: Scooby can be reached at: sapphire@gaiamandala.net