A Wild Party

Played: November 9, 2021.

Friday, July 20, 1973. 6:30 p.m. Archie, Jocasta, and Viv arrive at Terence McKenna’s student apartment bearing wine, lemon squares, some psych publications Viv wants Terence to read, and a couple of tabs of government-manufactured LSD. As they head upstairs, Jocasta whispers in Viv’s ear, “Tell Archie to be cool.”

Terence answers the door. He’s wearing free-flowing robes with prayer beads. He greets Viv first, then Jocasta-as-Carolyn, then Archie, whom he calls “Mr. Ransom.” He thanks them for coming and meeting with these “young people.” Stepping inside, the trio finds the apartment utterly devoid of furniture with only an elaborate, gorgeous oriental rug on the floor and a few authentic pieces of Tibetan and South American art. Terence says that Ev is making drinks, and says they plan on ordering out some Persian food from a “beautiful” place nearby. There’s no air conditioning on this hot summer night, just a box fan in the window. Terrence says:

I’ve been waiting and wishing and and wanting to speak to all three of you, and to just sort of get a sense of — I don't know, sort of your … well, I know Genevieve extremely well, I know her writing extremely well and we've talked many times about expanding our consciousness into the universe. And Carolyn, I got the sense during our time at the convention that you are of a similar mind. (He then looks at Archie). And you, sir. You created something on that night that I believe changed everyone's lives there. Obviously Genevieve recruited me onto the Atlantean side that night, but I get the impression that the narrative that was constructed was thanks to you.

Archie waves this off, saying Terence is too kind and that he’s there under false pretenses because he only helped put together a “fun little game,” which was “really swell” but not a big deal. As he works through this explanation, Ev emerges from another room carrying a bong. The group starts passing it around. Jocasta chimes in: “Archie is being far too modest. I don't know if you know this, but I think I hinted at it when you invited me to the party — Archie has a lifetime of creating fun stories behind him.” Terence is elated:

I had a feeling! I had a feeling that you, like me, are an inheritor of the the bardic tradition. Of singing forth new narratives that create new world lines. That provide us with new dreams to dream. And again, that is why I wanted to … (he pauses, pondering a moment) … I really, really want to know how you did it. I saw things on that roof that night that cannot be explained merely by the chemicals I was on.

Archie again demurs. He says he’s just a “recovering ad-man” who used to have a “little TV show with puppets.” But Terence interrupts, asking if Archie is familiar with Indonesian puppet traditions — how those cultures use puppets to depict the stories and battles of the gods. This is obviously nothing new to Archie, but he nods along with a polite smile. When Terence wraps up, Archie agrees:

It’s true, you know. Why do kids like puppets? Why do kids project their stories onto teddy bears and toys? There’s a way in which, you know, whether it’s made out of wood or felt or Styrofoam, with those big eyes they — kids can project their stories onto it in a way they can’t with human actors. Maybe you would say it’s more mythic. You know, a human actor can only look like one person. But a puppet … a puppet can be anyone’s friend.

Viv pipes up, asking if Archie knows the C.S. Lewis quote about why he made Jesus a lion instead of a man? Archie eagerly assents: “Yes! Yes that’s very good.” But before he can conclude his thought, the bong reaches him. He freezes. Terence asks him if he’s ever smoked before, querying whether he and his ad-men colleagues in the ‘60s ever got high. Archie says no, it was after his time, and passes the bong to someone else. Terence says that’s fine, then asks Archie if he ever talked with puppets before. Archie says yes, he has, but only when he was “very, very young.”

Of course there is one thing Aslan has that Jesus has not — I mean, the body of a lion. (But remember, if there are other worlds and they need to be saved and Christ were to save them — as He would — He may really have taken all sorts of bodies in them which we don’t know about.) Now if Laurence is bothered because he finds the lion-body seems nicer to him than the man-body, I don’t think he need be bothered at all. God knows all about the way a little boy’s imagination works (He made it, after all) and knows that at a certain age the idea of talking and friendly animals is very attractive. So I don’t think He minds if Laurence likes the Lion-body.

— C.S. Lewis, Letter to Philinda Krieg

Terence: That is legitimate. The very, very young have a sort of privilege, Archie. They have a privilege that they are closer to the spirit world than us, as boring old adults. Their lives are psychedelic. Their imaginations make things real. They have no sense of boundary between themselves and the other worlds that exist alongside ours. What you did for those children watching your television show was magic.

Archie: Well, you’re awful kind but, uh, I do believe that — sure — stories are a kind of magic. There we agree.

Terence smiles:

The reason why I wanted to, well, to invite you all here was … I wanted to invite you all here to have your company, but I told Carolyn, after our time on the roof of the St. Francis, that I believed that the experience crystallized a theory that I had been working on. And I want to have an audience full of both potential believers (he gestures at Viv and Jocasta) and people who might think I’m just crazy. So let me lay it out for you. Ev? (He calls Ev over to him; she sits and they hold hands).

About two years ago, Evelyn and I went down to South America, to Colombia, to find the source of indigenous medicine, uh, shamanic medicine that would basically allow us to go above and beyond what the rather dreary LSD of the Bay Area in 1970 and ‘71 was capable of. But also to make a connection. A connection with the Earth. A connection with each other. And to find this ancient technology and to bring it back to a world desperately in need of it. That is what our little expedition did. We went into the jungle, we consulted with people who had lived there for generations, even consulted with a few folks who were truly indigenous to the area, and found ourselves with a combination of the ayahuasca experience — a vine that creates an intense psychedelic experience — and, growing everywhere in this beautiful land full of big roaming cows, in every cow pat, there was the mushroom.

This mushroom was so plentiful that myself and Ev and my brother Dennis and our other two companions were able to, for almost an entire month, remain in a liminal state between this world and the spirit world. I won't bore you with all the details because I know that these kind of war stories can be a bit tedious to those who weren't there and didn't experience it. What was important to me, other than my brother Dennis becoming a full-fledged time traveling shaman, who was able to summon UFOs, is what happened when I got back and had to return to this world.

I love Berkeley. I love the university. It's a premier institution. It allows me as an ethnobotanist to do the investigations that I could never do while on the ground in Colombia. But it was during one of my more prosaic experiences in the library that I discovered something that had been nagging at me: that history occurs in cycles and that these cycles slowly intensify over time, and then very, very rapidly accelerate. One of these cycles happened to coincide with a solar eclipse that will be happening over the very, very spot that myself and Ev and my brother and our other friends were a couple of years ago. And when I found this, I said to myself, “Well that's interesting. It's not exactly a correlation to what I'm expecting to happen in the next few months but it is suggestive of it.”

And then I flipped to Time magazine and I saw that in December, at the solstice, at the same time as this eclipse over South America, that we will be visited by a comet that has never been seen before — never been noticed before, and was first spotted by a Czech astronomer back in April. Comet Kohoutek.

I am of the firm belief — and was of the firm belief when I was on that rooftop three weeks ago — that something incredibly profound is going to happen at the solstice in this year of our Lord 1973. This could just be astrological kookery. It could just be my mind making connections where there are none. But I tell you that on that rooftop, I saw that comet in that other skyline. Clear as day. The stars were different, Archie, up there. The stars were different. But the comet was there.

Viv shifts awkwardly, trying to navigate the strange vibes in the room. Jocasta smirks and says the story sounds incredible, but that she does not know much about the occult, so she defers to Terence’s expertise. Archie, meanwhile, internally evaluates the subtext of Terence’s speech. It sounds not unlike esmology, but not like esmology either. If anything, it sounds more like something Andrew Krane would come up with. He also worries that, if Terence gets this idea out there, people will start expecting something to happen on December 22 — the date of the solstice, when the Comet is supposed to be closest and brightest to the Earth. He asks Terence what makes him think this solstice will be so special, and Terence spins off about astrology and astronomy, the history of comets, and the significance of celestial bodies to human affairs. Jocasta and Viv nod in agreement, politely.

Terence then asks Archie: “Are you a magician?” Before Archie can answer, however, Terence asks if they would be willing to perform a magical ritual here, tonight: that they share in a different type of substance than the weed. Archie says he doesn’t want to cramp anyone’s style, and the kids should do whatever makes them happy. Terence persists. Archie explains that it is just how he was raised, a child of the Church of Latter-Day Saints. He doesn’t drink. He doesn’t smoke. Terence launches into a brief discussion of religious sects, and how they have, over time, proscribed various intoxicants and hallucinogens. Jocasta takes this opportunity to evaluate Terence’s intentions, and finds them authentic. He is working through something genuine. Terence continues: he and his cohorts take the mushrooms not because they freaks or addicts, but because it is a type of religious or spiritual communion for them.

Archie asks what the mushrooms, grown from cow pies, offer Terence that he can’t see with his own eyes. Jocasta interjects: did Archie know that psilocybin mushrooms grow on the Island of Patmos? Where John the Revelator was said to have received his visions? Archie tosses his hands up and says, “OK, I give, I give. This reminds me of a conversation I was just having the other day. There’s many ways, obviously … I’m not here to pass judgment on anybody. There’s many roads to truth. There’s lots of side paths and pitfalls and blind alleys on some of those roads, I think.” Terence reminds Archie he “hovered over the city of Babylon with [him].” Archie is deeply embarrassed at the reference to their shared dream. Terence presses on, explaining how the mushrooms work on a neurochemical level. He goes on to explain how the mushrooms can be used to help bind humanity together, show the common human awareness shared by all people, and to help people stand united against the coming darkness.

Viv snatches Archie into the kitchen. She asks Archie if he’s read her books. Archie, still embarrassed about the dream, stammers that he has. She explains that, as in her books, Terence is offering him a chance to look down on the mandala — a god’s eye view of the world. Archie still resists, but Viv says she believes this is an opportunity to advance their knowledge of the ontological war with the Red Kings. Archie asks Viv how the mushrooms are ingested, and Viv explains a bit more about the process. Archie pauses, relents, and says (to Stoney), “well, you do it, then!” Stoney smiles. He agrees, for Archie, to take the drugs.