The Germans and the Swiss are very precise chemists, and pharmacologists, and scientists. There wouldn’t have been any question about this being somehow mis-analyzed the first time.

This is another interesting point. Why the 25th? We know that only the 25th in the series was active. Any other compound that he made — and I’ve made many of them, we’ve tested many of them — none of the others approach LSD, either in its sophistication or in its potency. Only the 25th. And this is unusual. In pharmacology often you have a regular series. If we think of things like DOB, and DOI, there’s a kind of regular progression. They all fit into a kind of subgenus. And LSD doesn’t. We don’t call the other members of the series Albert made as LSD something or other, but if we had LSD-23, 24 and 26, they would all be one-tenth the activity of LSD-25. Peculiar presentiment indeed! 

As I’ve said, Swiss and German chemists have a reputation — today and back then — for being absolutely meticulous. If we had gone into Albert’s lab at Sandoz in 1943, we would probably have found everything in its place, organized in an obsessively neat manner. No dirty glassware, no trash on the floor, meticulous. How in the world did a meticulous Swiss chemist get 50 to 75 micrograms or more of LSD into his body? We don’t know. 

Another fact: I’ve made LSD in my lab on many occasions for research purposes, possibly in not so meticulous a manner as Albert Hofmann. Nothing ever happened. I had several graduate students who made LSD as an intermediate for projects. No accidental ingestion of LSD ever occurred. A technician in my lab makes it routinely because we use it as a drug to train our rats. He’s learned by experience that he never gets high, nothing ever happens. And yesterday I was talking to Nick Sand, and Nick said, “I made a solution of LSD in DMSO…” — DMSO (dimethyl sulfoxide) is a chemical that greatly enhances absorption of other chemicals through the skin — he says, “…I painted it on my skin. Nothing happened.” A concentrated solution and nothing happened! How did this very meticulous Swiss chemist get the LSD into his body? I don’t know. 

The other fact we need to think about is when Albert was a child, he had a spontaneous mystical experience. Now depending on whether you’re a psychologist or a psychiatrist or whatever, we could say that Albert had a predisposition to altered states of consciousness. 

So what facts do we know? I’m going to formulate a hypothesis. He took a dose that by your consensus should have lasted certainly more than two hours, but it only lasted two hours. He was a meticulous chemist — a Swiss chemist. Anyone I know who’s worked with LSD — and Nick Sand painted a solution of it on his arm — didn’t get high. This doesn’t make sense. And what is this peculiar presentiment? Why the 25th in the series? Inexplicable! And, he was predisposed to altered states of consciousness.

The only hypothesis I can come up with that’s consistent with all of these facts is that on April 16, 1943, Albert Hofmann did not get LSD in his body at all. He had a spontaneous mystical experience! 

Yo no hablo de cosas que son mías

El protocolo de drogas es una plantilla de lo más de apetecida por su cualidad de estimular hablar de aquello propio, propio además de la droga con la que se experimenta, ese demonio que toma posesión, euforizado por los deleites en presenciar lo no-probable, lo fantástico, todo sin esfuerzo, un atajo, sin mayor energía. La plantilla muy popular en sitios como erowid.

Yo siempre le he visto mucha potencia a estos textos, rara vez me aburren, siempre tienen algo verdadero.

Se puede escribir un protocolo de droga que sea ficción? Carlos Castaneda es algo así. Retomando el texto en cursiva: Las plantillas de experiencia de drogas son otro ejemplo de textos en cursiva, en este caso de calidad insider, apela a módulos de complicidad entre los siconautas, jergas, etc.etc…

Juxtaposition of All Selves into Singularity (fragmento)

"She goes to clean a cup, so I can have a drink of water. With my eyes closed, I see what I can only describe as a slot machine, infinitely long and tall, that adjusts in perspective according to my heads actual position. On the face of each is a picture of myself in a different emotion or physical state. Whichever picture is located in the center of my range of vision is the emotion I feel fully, but the slot machine is cycling at such an alarming rate that I am feeling what I estimate to be 10 emotions every second. My facial muscles work to accommodate each emotion, and I essentially lose control of my face. I feel extreme pain, followed by extreme euphoria for a millisecond each. I feel, essentially, everything at once. Finally, the slot machine rests on a single face: Madness. It is a picture of myself in green, clawing at my eyes. I realize what is going to happen: When the machine adds the sum total of all I’ve been, I will be defined, and I will die.

Some scientists speculate that since the universe exploded from an infinitely powerful singularity, the gravitational field may one day become too weak to sustain this expansion, and the universe will start to gravitate inwards, and collide into another singularity, possibly to restart the entire process anew. I see every human consciousness as analogous to the big bang. Throughout our experience as humans, we become more and more complex and organized from our embryonic states, to the point that we grow up and start integrating concepts into patterns of thought, behavior, emotion, just as the universe organized into clusters of planets and stars, comets, black holes, etc., As I am running from the bedroom to the living room to find V., all the concepts and truths I accept, regarding nature, matter, humanity, sociology, biology, philosophy, art, start to rapidly compute into analogies, which physically connect to one another.

Everything subjective, everything regarding the self (my emotions, dreams, etc.,) become the earth, and all my perceptions regarding the external world are the stars. And the entire universe is folding in on itself, and I am simply not ready for whatever happens after it. I feel like I will have completed life, solved the puzzle. It was as if I have seen every part, or almost every part, through my observations, and how they fit together, so I was worthy to view the gestalt, the whole form, one singularity. And I thought: “No one would be allowed back from seeing that, because you must be outside of that form in order to view it.” I thought of what V. said, “It would be like nothing ever happened.” I thought I would die, for sure, but I also thought I might be reincarnated, (maybe due to her statement “when you wake up”) or simply exhiled somewhere away from this world that I know and love. I didn’t think a living person is allowed to see what’s on the other side of the end of the universe. “

(…)

"At the hospital, I am diagnosed with a brain hemorrhage, a fractured nasal bone, a bruised rib, and tons of lacerations all over my feet and body. For 2 days I am in the ICU, and spend another 4 altogether. They were extremely close to having to drill into my head to relieve the pressure, but thankfully they never did, and I survive without any enduring injuries. "

Personas interesantes + psicoactivos = experiencias fascinantes.

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