Toast

Which has more calories, a slice of bread or a slice of toast?

Duh! Of course they’re identical.

Are they? Applying the same reasoning that manufacturers of “low calorie spreads” get away with in their claims, bread is, weight for weight, much lower in calories. Heating the bread evaporates the water so that the slice of toast weighs less than the slice of bread and the calories are concentrated. This is the opposite process to taking butter and churning it with water to create an insipid, diluted spread. Of course, selling water as a premium product is an excellent wheeze.

There’s another reason why buttered toast is more calorific that bread and butter. Butter melts into toast so you can get more of it in and on toast than you can spread on the top of bread. And that, my friends, is why I like toast.

Contents

Kitchen Cluedo

Page 1 of 2

I was looking through the kitchen cupboard and noticed how many murder mystery house guests seem to live in there.

The house is, of course, owned by Earl Grey. He is often to be found in the library discoursing with his old Catholic priest friend Father Basil Pesto.

Someone has ill-advisedly invited the flighty young blonde actress Minty Aero - she’s bound to cause trouble.

Speaking of trouble, it’s brewing beneath stairs. Lady Grey has brought over her latest find from Tuscany, the short-order chef Signor Egg Lasagne, known to his fans as Quick Cook Lasagne. This addition to the staff does not find favour with the cook Pestle or the housekeeper Mortar. Signor Lasagne has also brought his sous chef Linguini who has the eye for Earl Grey’s exotic French Indochinese niece Peri-Peri Marinade.

An au pair was interviewed before the guests arrived but Olive Oil was sent home as being too obvious, though if the insouciant lothario, the Honorable Haricot Bean had realised she was a virgin, she might have won a position in the house.

The pale, bespectacled, bicycle-riding Mild Bleach looks innocent enough but beware his simmering temper. Poor Mild has been bullied into inviting his fellow club member Brillo Pad. Brillo zooms up in his Jag, scattering gravel and causing Mild to swerve on his bike.

Kitchen Cluedo

Page 2 of 2

Oxford Thick-Cut has a hangover this morning and doesn’t remember meeting, still less inviting, the three exotic dancers, Cherry Pie and the twins Honey Nuts and Ginger Nuts.

No-one knows who invited the shamed, recently bankrupt, drunken old American, Woolworths Pickenmix.

Later we’re expecting the clown and children’s party entertainer Coconut Flakes.

Nobody mention the war! Haricot’s cousin Heinz is expected in time for high tea.

Maris Piper, a middle-aged librarian, has a bit of a thing for Brillo Pad although she knows he is far too young and she would never give him a hint of her feelings.

The American contingent is swelled by an elite representative of old Mayflower East Coast society in the daunting, galleonesque figure of Mary Land-Cookie. She gives the impression of wealth and stature but perhaps it is her husband’s gambling debts that are causing her to be pursued by the shadowy underworld figure of Shortbread Finger. Pestle and Mortar are on alert and checking the silver on an hourly basis.

Show Some Respect

We are often told it is right to respect other’s beliefs but this is a position that baffles me, even frightens me.

I never know how to tell which beliefs are supposed to be respected and which scorned. For example you’re not supposed to disabuse children of their belief in Santa Clause until they’re old enough to realise they’ve been lied to. At the same time they are being indoctrinated with Jesus, or whichever mythical being is the flavour of their culture, and you're never supposed to question that belief or suggest they are now old enough to realise they’ve been lied to.

My working definition of “belief” is the acceptance of the truth of a proposition in the absence of supporting evidence. I think the superstitious, the religious, atheists and scientists alike can recognise this definition although it will evoke different emotional responses.

To me, “believing” something is merely dignifying ignorance. To spread belief is to spread ignorance. Spreading ignorance is an evil and corrupting thing to do.

There has been so much fuss about Catholic priests sexually abusing children. Why does the world stay silent on the insidious child abuse they commit every day – attempting to deprive children of their reasoning power and win their commitment to superstition?

Why are we supposed to respect this evil? The doctrine of respects is just another tool put in place by the custodians of superstition, whose power would be eroded if only people would ask a few simple questions. Like “why do you want me to share your irrationality?”

Sainsbury’s Celebrates Mediocrity

I want to know how it’s possible that the Sainsbury’s poster
Sainsbury’s Taste The Difference: The ultimate in everyday food
got through what I imagine is a lengthy approval process, from designer through copywriter, agency execs, and typesetter to ad buyers and marketing execs and finally to the repro team and printers without ever passing through a single person who knows what “everyday” means.

Just in case you are a marketing executive, let me advise: ”everyday” means “mediocre, average, mundane, boring, a bit pants”.

“Every day” (with a space) means “daily” but still would not make sense in the context above. “The Best in Food for Every Day” is the closest I can get to the presumed intent of the advertisers.

The only meaning I can ascribe to the advert as it appears on giant posters is “Come to Sainsbury’s for the least worst food”. It would be hilarious were it not so sad.

...meanwhile, Waitrose makes a slightly misguided stand

Bless them , Waitrose are trying hard to defend our language. A few months back they changed the signs on their basket-only checkouts to read “Ten items or fewer”. I made the mistake of congratulating the cashier of their usage and she apologised. “I know, I know, people keep telling me, it should be ‘ten items or less’.” Nooo… I didn’t know where to start sorting that out, I tried but she just looked confused.

England’s smoking ban has had me in a consistent state of annoyance since it came in. Not for the ban itself – it’s lovely to be able to go to a pub or restaurant and come away not stinking – but for the signs that have appeared in every shop window: “It is against the law to smoke in these premises”.

This evening I noticed that Waitrose has tried to correct this with “It is against the law to smoke on these premises” [my emphasis]. They clearly understand that a “premise” is a piece of land and it is impossible to smoke in a premise unless you dig a hole. So well done Waitrose. Sort of. Still not right, because the law bans smoking in public buildings, not on land in general. I am sure Waitrose’s premises extend beyond their building. They should say what they mean: “It is against the law to smoke in this building”.

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 1 of 11

Note: These accounts were written the day after the experiences described. The two journeys were separated by a few months. Both took place in 2014, the first at Madre Natura, the second in my own home.

First Journey

The shamans have recently returned from Peru with a brew made from freshly cut, mature vines. It is highly reduced to the texture of melted chocolate and smells and tastes pleasantly sweet. This was my first vine journey and I felt very safe in shamans' loving care. My only previous experience of DMT (the active ingredient of the vine) was smoking changa (freebase DMT infused onto herbs). That experience was a short but highly colourful, highly geometric, abstract, psychedelic trip. I experienced it as enjoyable and recreational without any discernible healing, spiritual or insightful qualities. The vine experience was very different. The psychedelic components were in silvers and greys with flashes of brilliant colour and were partly purely geometric but mostly representational. These sessions alternated with intensely emotional reflections and insights. I have heard it said that an vine journey is like cramming several years of therapy into a few hours and that was certainly my experience. It is said that vine-induced visions will not start properly until you vomit. I have not vomited since I was 12.

It is recommended that you approach the journey with a clear intention - a life question you want answered. Mine ("what do I need to do to achieve clarity?") was answered almost immediately and in the strongest possible terms.

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 2 of 11

When the effects started to kick in, about 30 minutes after drinking a two-tablespoon dose, I felt and saw an intense kundalini energy - a burningly hot white light that formed in my perineum and shot up my spine and into my brain, where it exploded in a mini orgasm. This was immediately followed by muddled and busy imagery out of which a demonic figure raced towards me, passing through my left side and skimming my heart. On looking closer, I saw that the demon had the face of my father. This realisation came with the giant word FORGIVENESS. My father abandoned me as a baby and rejected me again in later life. It was so clear - my resentment and hurt has held me back all my life and I need to forgive him if I am to move forward.I was also troubled by images of things I have unwittingly done to hurt others. I was less clear whether the message was to seek their forgiveness or to forgive myself. Perhaps both.

My expectation, having heard stories of other people's vine journeys, was that the psychedelic images would be jungle-themed. I kept trying to evoke jaguars and forest trees but to no avail. In fact I saw endless robots, spaceships and futuristic cityscapes. They evoked every kind of sci-fi from 60s tin toy robots through Kurt Giger to steam punk. Some of the buildings and machines were extraordinarily beautiful, ornate and organic in structure, such as the huge museum-type building with arches like dinosaur spines. Everything was gleaming steel and perspex. At one point I was swallowed by a spaceship that moved like a swimming newt and had the head of a crocodile. In amongst these images were many glimpses of the tackiest, plastic aspects of popular culture: Ronald McDonald, Peppa Pig, My Little Pony. These fleeting images suggested rottenness and corruption hidden beneath plastic exterior. Tackiness frequently infected the imagery. For example I briefly

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 3 of 11

started to see medieval castles, which quickly changed to plastic toy castles and Disney cartoons of castles. Many of the images were so beautiful and extraordinary I longed to study them more closely but as soon as I placed my attention anywhere, the scene would change, usually morphing or opening like a flower into something else.

When I was able to open my eyes, I could see many visual artefacts, sparkling coloured lights and complex geometric patterns. I found that, to some extent, I was able to control what I was seeing e.g. selecting the colour of the lights. These open-eye visual effects were not exactly hallucinations in that I rarely had any difficulty telling what was real. I never completely lost awareness that any of the experiences were internally generated and I was always able to deal safely with uncomfortable imagery.

Physically, I was lying down and completely immobile for almost the whole journey. At some points I was inspired to dance but couldn't move more than a couple of fingers. At other points I was desperate to go to the toilet but was too locked even to ask for help.

About 45 minutes into the journey (i.e. 75 mins after drinking) I was offered a second dose (one tablespoon). My intuition was to refuse but I went against it and accepted. From this point, the imagery became much darker. For some time I was seeing the remains of torture victims, hideously damaged corpses, an endless forest of severed limbs that banged in my face as I walked through them, post-holocaust war scenes with rotting or burnt or eviscerated bodies. All was bleak and grey. I saw a body on an autopsy slab with its chest opened and internal organs removed. I plunged head-first into the body cavity, squeezed through the

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 4 of 11

intestines and pushed my head out through its anus. This scene was so absurdly revolting it made me laugh out loud. It introduced the third phase of the journey in which I was sliding down and through all sorts of different kinds of tubes. I assume this was an evocation of birth.

The final phase of the journey, as I started to come down (roughly four hours in) was distressingly negative and I started to want the experience to be over. There was endless, ashen, post-apocalyptic greyness. During this phase I "met" the vine. As others report, she was female but far from the earth mother or goddess I have heard others describe. She appeared to me in three forms. First as a grossly overweight and elderly street hooker doing a supposedly seductive dance in a bathing costume three sizes too small. Second a twisted vine-cum-snake-cum-female form, again dancing seductively but this time with clearly evil intent - a demonic seductress. I took this as a message about having greedily taken a second drink when I really knew better. The temptress glowed with a disturbingly evil, green, oily sheen and the word "poison" was loudly in my mind. Thirdly, the vine-cum-snake entered my body and filled my entire abdomen and thorax where it writhed and twisted and screamed and banged to get out. I knew I needed to vomit but was unable to do so.

Once I was able to move and had been taken to the toilet (where I had massive diarrhoea until I felt utterly empty) we went briefly into the garden to look at the stars. One star caught my eye and morphed into a delicately winged green fairy flying across the sky. Of all the open-eye experiences, this was the most real.

When the journey had almost ended (about 7 hours in) I went to bed and immediately had to get up and be sick. The first time I have vomited in 44 years and itself a liberation. There have been many times when I would have been better off if I could vomit.

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 5 of 11

Among the visions were one or two things too personal to post here which were at first delightful and encouraging but then (especially after the demonic temptress experience) I started to wonder whether they were real or wishful thinking.

I also had numerous uncomfortable insights into my past behaviour and have already noticed more awareness in these areas. There is no doubt the journey has made me a better person.

At one point I started thinking about angels and realised that their wings are not birdlike as a they would be one with their arms, they are actually more insect-like. I wondered how their biology might me made to work and started seeing the musculature of their wings, the attachments into their spines, the extra muscles required in their backs and was able to take a trip inside an angel's wings to see the muscles, sinews and nervous pathways. (Unfortunately I seem to have omitted blood supply so I don't think my angels would last long.) The light flowing through the feathers into the inside of the wing was beautiful.

At another point, my body was laid on the floor of an empty room. I dissolved and spread across the floor. My soul left my body and floated towards a beam of light from the centre of the ceiling in a classic near-death experience. I went into the light and emerged the other side - with my head poking through a manhole cover in the pavement outside the Bank of England - with shiny, expensive shoes walking past my nose. Glad the vine has a sense of humour.

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 6 of 11

In another event I became the Sphinx and sat in the desert while the world fast-forwarded past me. I saw the ancient Egyptian kingdoms come and go, many settlements come and go, the sand come and go and then the rapid encroachment of the city. Finally I forwarded into the future and saw big, modern developments taking place including a huge maglev monorail arcing across the whole of North Africa to bring tourists to the site.

Just about the only image to feature a live human figure was of a woman sitting on the ground with her legs outstretched. Her legs transformed into a robot that grew huge and had serrated teeth. It leant forward and bit her head off.

I was intrigued and a little surprised that among all this visceral body imagery (literal and metaphorical) was not a single trace of anything sexual. The seductive dance of the vine and being swallowed by the gaping mouth of a crocodile can certainly be interpreted sexually but were devoid of such associations. Both images of vine-as-hooker were more about empty falsehood than about sexuality.Re-reading this, I feel I have missed a vital component. The emotion was overwhelmingly powerful. I cried for loss, for sorrow, for guilt. At one point my emotions were so out of control that I cried because I have betrayed my web server by not using it sufficiently!

Second Journey

Last night I invited the vine into my house for the second time. When she knocks and you open the door, she doesn't stop to wipe her feet on the welcome mat; instead she immediately picks up the mat to show you the mess you have swept underneath.

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 7 of 11

The journey came on remarkably quickly. I experienced mild visions even before drinking. Within a few minutes I felt a ripple in my spine and the muscles of my back; it was wings starting to grow. While my wings were growing I watched a kaleidoscope of coloured patterns, full of opulent purples, reds and dark greens. In among the patterns were occasional cameos of idealised, classical faces. After a while the patterns folded away like a pair of fans, opening a space to a clear sky beyond. The only image left hanging high and centre was the face of my beloved.

I unfolded my wings and leapt into the sky, discovering I had become a beautiful, white, winged horse. I glided over a landscape until I got bored and landed to gallop through a winding woodland path. I could feel the power coursing through my muscles and the exhilaration and freedom of speed. The path opened out onto a cliff top with the sea a thousand feet below. I ran straight over the edge, plummeted towards the sea and, at the last moment, spread my wings and soared into the sky - for the sheer joy of it.

After this glorious opening, the journey it turned into a psychedelic trip by Disney. Images came from every irritating, long-forgotten animation. I want truth, not all this trite crap! And the reply, repeated again and again throughout the journey: "It's all an illusion".

That's the story. But is it what happened? Repeatedly I found myself observing and mentally documenting; knowing that I would want to tell the story. And repeatedly I got the message "stop watching - take part". But to counter this message I was also repeatedly shown alternative versions until I was comfortable with one that fitted the story.

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 8 of 11

Among the Disney experiences, I entered a competition to race through a maze. The walls of the maze slithered and moved in snake-like ways to allow me to emerge the winner. My prize was to be turned into a star. I soared up through the atmosphere and into space, found a empty corner, spread my wings and burned. For a while I gloried in my status but soon I looked around the emptiness of space, realised there was nothing for my light to illuminate, and felt desperately lonely. Other stars in the vicinity heard my cry and rushed towards me for a group supernova. We exploded, condensed, and created solar systems to cherish.

I have previously described the vine-cum-snake as a demonic temptress surrounded by an oily, sickly green glow. She appeared to me again this way, dominating most of the journey. I tried again and again to blow her away but she always kept at least two tiny red glowing eyes on me. Once again she tried to seduce me with crassly sexual overtures but she has learned better ways with me now. Flattery is one better way. She told me that I am the consummate story-teller and if only I would let her in and let her infuse me with her seductive power, I would be able to enrapture everyone. I felt her body fuse with mine, her cobra's hood fusing with my shoulders. I looked out through her eyes and greedily drew all those around into her thrall. I had brought three friends to drink for the first time and felt I had seduced them there; I felt myself sink snake's fangs into their necks. But I shook myself out of it. I didn't want to be the servant of a snake.

For a long while I battled the snake. Show me what you really are, I demanded. She presented in ever-changing forms, ever the trickster, but I wanted to see what lay beneath. I fought with her physically, tearing at her flesh. But each time I tore away a skin, she transformed into something else. She repeatedly repulsed me by transforming into things too hideous to look at.

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 9 of 11

Eventually I withdrew and observed her from a distance. Second by second she amused herself by transforming from shape to shape until she presented as a bored, pot-bellied female ape, sitting legs apart and masturbating. I took my opportunity and dived head-first into her, plunging through her long body towards her head. As I worked my way into her, I could see through portholes that she was transforming into a variety of toothed and clawed beasts, attempting to tear me out of her body, but to no avail. I reached her head and found a locked door behind which was her brain. This is what I wanted to see - the engine driving her - and so I forced myself through the door and there was her brain - a single, red-hot coal.

Of course, I realised later that the trickster snake had seduced me in the one certain way - set me a puzzle to solve and let me think I had won - just to show me exactly what she wanted me to see. It's a story and it's all illusion.

Another message, repeatedly given and repeatedly rejected by me was that I am strong, great and brave. I became a lion, the patriarch and protector of the pride. My intention for the journey was to rid myself of the sense of loss that has so informed my life and I repeatedly saw opportunities I have squandered and relationships that have crumbled. The common factor, of course, being me. It is hard to feel brave and strong while at the same time being shown so much self-destruction. But the turning point came when I contemplated the bravery of my beloved. I told her she deserved my lion's mane more than I do and took it off to put on her. With that act of giving, my status was assured and, lion and lioness, we ruled the pride together, bound by love and mutual honour.

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 10 of 11

What did the snake find under my welcome mat? She has a way of shocking you with unexpected information. Among the losses I had thought about, the first she found was one I thought was forgotten decades before: the loss of my love of God and of transcendence - the promise of the absolute. A box of love of God was found buried at the bottom of a pile of boxes. It was taken out, opened, examined, reminisced about and thrown away. I asked what can possibly take its place? It was at the foundation, holding everything else up. For answer, I saw the Turbine Room at Tate Modern filled with clockwork Mechano robots, mindlessly marching up and down. One by one they broke or fell over until the whole lot flew apart in a cloud of cogs and springs. It's all an illusion.

The visions were intense throughout and continued with my eyes open, including when I got up to go to the toilet. I told the shaman "I cannot see, my eyes are full of visions." He replied, "I know. Me too". Perhaps this is what led to a period of confusion of unlike things with one another. I found myself unable to tell which was which out of brass door handles and my cousin Nick.

After returning, a period of multiple cuddly comforts followed, in which I felt love for the little boy who had been me. One of the things, the loss of which unexpectedly made me cry, was the E H Shepard illustrations for Winnie The Pooh having been swamped culturally and in my memory by the crass Disney version. I was transported into the Hundred Acre Wood, as seen by Shepard. The images were restored and I became a teddy bear.

Experiences with the Vine Medicine

Page 11 of 11

As I had previously clawed at the snake, now she clawed at me. She found that my teddy suit had a zip. She unzipped me to reveal a smaller teddy, then another and finally, inside, were pyjamas. All that was left of me was pyjamas. Then they too started to dissolve into threads of cotton, floating away on the breeze. Then an individual thread broke into its component atoms, then the atoms into subatomic particles and finally into quarks. Each quark appeared as spidery, clicking clockwork machine simultaneously solving eight Rubik's Cubes, one at each corner of a cubical lattice. I pulled back and the eight cubes merged into a Rubik's Tesseract (a four-dimensional cube).*

I endured many scenes of loss and was shown that each encapsulates happy memories that can be held as decorations in my life; there is no need to hold the pain too. At the end of the journey I was unsure whether I really had dealt with the sense of loss or whether I was simply exhausted but I started to feel a mild sense of loss for my sense of loss.

*Note: technically there are some surprisingly strong analogies between the way quarks behave and certain aspects of the Rubik's Cube. It is also true that a tesseract can be seen as the union of eight cubes. Whether a Rubik's tesseract is a theoretically possible construct is something I have not actually thought about yet - but I love the idea.

No, BBC, No

Is “enormity” a lost cause?
Please, BBC, it does NOT mean “enormousness”.
In the last few days I have heard about the enormity of the traffic problems in Cairo, the enormity of the Eurozone debt crisis and, worst of all, the enormity of Mo Farrah’s success at the Olympics? No, BBC, no, Mo Farrah’s medals were not given for his wickedness.