"Overwhelmed, as One would be,
Placed in my position.
Such a heavy burden now, to be The One,
Born to bear, and bring to all
The details of our ending.
To write it down for all the world to see."
-Lost Keys (Blame Hoffman)/Rosetta Stoned
for Astarte.
I was wandering around aimlessly through a painting by Hieronymus Bosch.
No, really. That is not an exaggeration.
900 micrograms of the most visually mindblowing, showstopping LSD I have ever taken, a bit of ketamine and MDMA, wandering through a crowd of about a thousand people wearing woolen hippie hoodies, octopus hats and tie dyed t-shirts. Psychedelic Americana Kitsch, but somehow slyly self-aware of this. It was like something out of Andy Warhol's back catalog, or a complex self-referential viral marketing hoax perpetuated by the Church of the Subgenius.
Lately, I have taken to spreading memetic thought viruses to large groups of people. Outside of the internet, the festival environment seems most ideal for this. Congregating with those who are particularly susceptible to ideas that most of society considers to be deviant or dangerous is a way to plant your seeds, one by one, and not get caught. You don't tell them this, of course. Then they realize what you are really doing and the whole game is up. Shit, I just broke the fourth wall. Woops.
Just remember, I am emphatically *not* the Buddha. Please don't kill me.
