Psychotropic Ink

Brand new expensive, rich-guy brand suit.........$2,500

Authentic WWII handgun, restored...................$5,000

Finally coming to grips with the fact that you fathered
a complete idiot who ruined the world..............Priceless

Years ago, I moved into a new apartment with a friend of mine. It just so happened that it was Apartment #23 at this particular location, and I mentioned to my roommate that “That’s a William Burroughs thing, you know.”

No, she didn’t know, but when mail began showing up addressed to “The Nova Kid” – also a William Burroughs reference – I felt vindicated.

The Beat novelist William Burroughs was, you know, nuts. The 23 conspiracy was originally his thing. If it weren’t for Burroughs 23 conspiracy, though, Pink Floyd would have never written the song “Set the Controls for the Heart of the Sun.” Regardless, when the writer Robert Anton Wilson got his hands on the idea a few years later, it began to make more sense, or at least take more shape.

Wilson – who died back in January of this year – used the 23 conspiracy as grist for his anarchist philosophy mill. It was one of the centerpieces to his theorum that all disciplines are bunk and that once you start thinking too much about something, you’ll find support for it everywhere around you, be it a political philosophy or the idea that aliens from the Sirius Galaxy are sending radio transmissions into your head (yep, “Sirius Satellite Radio” is also a Wilson reference…).

Oh, wait. This is was supposed to be a movie review, huh?  

Yeah, I know it's been an obscene amount of time since my last post. But the truth is, I've been busting up the New World Order. It's true.

Like you, a lot of my time is spent worrying about the ways in which the government is keeping tabs on me. And one of the ways they do this is through the use of cameras, cameras, everywhere. On every street corner, in every convenience store. It's gotten to the point where, if I want to travel to Florida to assault the rival for my lover's affections, I have to wear a diaper, just so I don't have to pull over and get photographed while trying to use the bathroom.

As part of my recent attempts to watch the government watch me, I became intimately familiar with the newest state-of-the-art facial recognition software. Just out of curiosity, what celebrities might the government mistake me for?

And using the above photograph of myself, this is what I discovered:

I'm a 60% match for Michael Richards! I expected that, of course, but I've always thought that the Winston Churchill resemblance was more subtle. The most glorious part of all this is finding out that if I snuck into FoxNews and tried to pass myself off as Rupert Murdoch himself, there's apparently a 59% chance I'd get away with it! Dare to dream that I get to meet Sean Hannity. As it stands now, security is always chasing me away...

"I see Condoleezza Rice - she goes on a plane, she gets off a plane, she waves, she goes there to meet some dictator. They talk, she leaves, she waves, the plane takes off. Nothing happens..." -- Donald Trump

Those damn Republicans are political geniuses!  Many years ago, while Richard Nixon was running for some office or other out in California, he sent scary-looking men with Russian accents around door-to-door to encourage people to vote for his opponent.  The idea being that... well, you can figure out the idea.  If you can't, then I would encourage you to discontinue reading this page and go watch "American Idol" or something.

Anyway, fast forward to 2007, and Donald Trump makes the comment I've posted above regarding the current Secretary of State.  

And I have to think, wow, these Republicans are really, really smart.  Because I've never felt like defending Secretary Rice before now.  The GOP should trot him out to attack Cheney, Bush, Rove.  The ire of Trump could well be the best weapon the GOP has in its arsenal.

I mean, how odious does a guy need to be in order for me to reconsider any target of his verbal attacks?

Genius. Pure genius.

Karl, did you do this?

Author Robert Anton Wilson died yesterday morning at the age of 74. Wilson was the author of a bunch of really interesting books -- some fiction, some non-fiction (and the non-fiction ones contained, you know, some questionable facts). He was a huge buff of conspiracy theories, drugs, mind expansion, and famous drug enthusiasts who tried to expand their minds while engaging in conspiracy theories.

His "non-fiction" books, like the Cosmic Trigger series and Coincidance [sic], made a big impression on me at a relatively young age.  In the first Cosmic Trigger, Wilson discusses how he might have been receiving transmissions from the Sirius solar system back in the 70s. He was careful to point out that he did not believe he was receiving these transmissions, because he didn't actually believe anything at all, but had he wanted to believe it, he could have found plenty of evidence for it.

Wilson had polio as a child; as a result, he walked with a limp all of his life. His numerous health-related problems late in life were referred to -- at least in the press -- as "post-polio syndrome." Meaning, I presume, that the problems were caused by his childhood polio.

He inspired ... if not millions, then at least hundreds of thousands, and yet he really never made any money off of any of it. However, when California legalized medical marijuana a few years back, Wilson was there in his wheelchair, chosen to be the first in line at the age of 70 or whatever he was at the time...

Five days before he died, he left this blog post on his web site: "Various medical authorities swarm in and out of here predicting I have between two days and two months to live. I think they are guessing. I remain cheerful and unimpressed. I look forward without dogmatic optimism but without dread. I love you all and I deeply implore you to keep the lasagna flying. Please pardon my levity, I don't see how to take death seriously. It seems absurd."

Wilson is survived by absolutely no one. His wife died a couple years back. His daughter was murdered in the 70s. All of his friends (including Terrence McKenna, Timothy Leary, Alan Watts, etc) died years ago.

Regardless, I feel the need to tip my hat to one of the greatest pranksters of our time. I mean, c'mon -- I'm only assuming that news of his death isn't actually a trick!