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Quote by Ralph Metzner

“All the elements were there: the frozen feeling bubbling up and permeating my body like quantum foam fizzing up to engulf the fragmenting mind, the feeling of acceleration, my dissolving self urging me to let go, to surrender, as I was sucked into the visionary maelstrom. … The experience was far more austere (than in the earlier trials – ed.) Reality is a hallucination generated by the brain to help make sense of our being; it is made of fragments of memory, associations, ideas, people you remember, dreams you’ve had, things you’ve read and seen, all of which is somehow blended and extruded into something resembling a coherent conscious narrative, the hallucination we call “experience.” Dimethyltryptamine rips back the curtain to show the raw data before it has been processed and massaged. There is no comforting fiction of coherent consciousness; one confronts the mindless hammering of frenzied neurochemistry (McKenna, Dennis. The Brotherhood of the Screaming Abyss – My Life with Terence McKenna. St. Cloud, MN: North Star Press, 2012, p. 160).”

Quote by Ralph Metzner

Book:The Toad and the Jaguar
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The Toad and the Jaguar

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Ralph Metzner
Ralph Metzner

Ralph Metzner is a renowned psychologist, born on May 18, 1936. He has conducted extensive research in the field of psychology, particularly in the areas of consciousness studies, psychopharmacology, and human potential development. Metzner completed his undergraduate and graduate studies at Stanford University, where he began his academic career. more

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“And even my sense of identity was wrapped in a namelessness often hard to penetrate, as we have just seen I think…Yes, even then, when already all was fading, waves and particles, there could be no things but nameless things, no names but thingless names. I say that now, but after all what do I know now about then, now when the icy words hail down upon me, the icy meanings, and the world dies too, foully named. All I know is what the words know, and the dead things, and that makes a handsome little sum, with a beginning, a middle and an end as in the well-built phrase and the long sonata of the dead. And truly it little matters what I say, this or that or any other thing. Saying is inventing. Wrong, very rightly wrong. You invent nothing, you think you are inventing, you think you are escaping, and all you do is stammer out your lesson, the remnants of a pensum one day got by heart and long forgotten, life without tears, as it is wept. To hell with it anyway.”

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“I. What value is to be attached to the theory that Eve sprang, not from Adam's rib, but from a tumour in the fat of his leg (arse?). 2. Did the serpent crawl or, as Comestor affirms, walk upright? 3. Did Mary conceive through the ear, as Augustine and Adobard assert? 4. How much longer are we to hang about waiting for the antechrist? 5. Does it really matter which hand is employed to absterge the podex? 6. What is one to think of the Irish oath sworn by the natives with the right hand on the relics of the saints and the left on the v i r ile member? 7. Does nature observe the sabbath? 8. Is it true that the devils do not feel the pains of hell? 9. The algebraic theology of Craig. What is one to think of this? 10. Is it true that the infant Saint-Roch refused suck on Wednesdays and Fridays? II. What is one to think of the excommunication of vermin in t he sixteenth century? 12. Is one to approve of the Italian cobbler Lovat who, having cut off his testicles, crucified himself. 13. What was God doing with himself before the creation? 14. Might not the beatific vision become a source of boredom, in the long run? 15. Is it true that Judas' torments are suspended on Saturdays? 16. What if the mass for the dead were read over the living? And I recited the pretty quietist Pater, Our Father who art no more in heaven than on earth or in hell, I neither want nor desire that thy name be hallowed, thou knowest best what suits thee. Etc. The middle and the end are very pretty. It was in this frivolous and charming world that I took refuge, when my cup ran over. But I asked myself other questions concerning me perhaps more c!osely. As for example. 1. Why had I not borrowed a few shillings from Gaber? 2. Why had I obeyed the order to go home? 3. What had become of Molloy? 4. Same question for me. 5. What would become of me? 6. Same question for my son. 7. Was his mother in heaven? 8. Same question for my mother. 9. Would I go to heaven ? 10. Would we all meet again in heaven one day, I. my mother, my son. his mother, Youdi, Gaber. Molloy, his mother, Yerk, Murphy, Watt, Camier and the rest? 11. What had become of my hens. my bees? Was my grey hen still living? 12. Zulu, the Elsner sisters, were they still living? 13. Was Youdi's business address still 8, Acacia Square? What if I wrote to him? What if I went to see him? I would explain to him. What would I explain to him? I would crave his forgive ness. Forgiveness for what? 14. Was not the winter exceptionally severe? 15. How long had I gone now without either confession or communion? 16. What was the name of the martyr who, being in prison, loaded with chains, covered with wounds and vermin. unable to stir, celebrated the consecration on his stomach and gave himself absolution? 17. What would I do until my death? Was there no means of hastening this, without falling into a state of sin? But before I launch my body properly so-called across these icy. then. with the thaw, muddy solitudes. I wish to say that I often thought of my bees, more often than of my hens. and God knows I thought often of my hemore c!osely. As for example. 1. Why had I not borrowed a few shillings from Gaber? 2. Why had I obeyed the order to go home? 3. What had become of Molloy? 4. Same question for me. 5. What would become of me? 6. Same question for my son. 7. Was his mother in heaven? 8. Same question for my mother. 9. Would I go to heaven ? 10. Would we all meet again in heaven one day, I. my mother, my son. his mother, Youdi, Gaber. Molloy, his mother, Yerk, Murphy, Watt, Camier and the rest? 11. What had become of my hens. my bees? Was my grey hen still living? 12. Zulu, the Elsner sisters, were they still living? 13. Was Youdi's business address still 8, Acacia Square? What if I wrote to him? What if I went to see him? I would explain to him. What would I explain to him? I would crave his forgive ness. Forgiveness for what?”

Molloy
Author:Samuel Beckett
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“I. What value is to be attached to the theory that Eve sprang, not from Adam's rib, but from a tumour in the fat of his leg (arse?). 2. Did the serpent crawl or, as Comestor affirms, walk upright? 3. Did Mary conceive through the ear, as Augustine and Adobard assert? 4. How much longer are we to hang about waiting for the antechrist? 5. Does it really matter which hand is employed to absterge the podex? 6. What is one to think of the Irish oath sworn by the natives with the right hand on the relics of the saints and the left on the v i r ile member? 7. Does nature observe the sabbath? 8. Is it true that the devils do not feel the pains of hell? 9. The algebraic theology of Craig. What is one to think of this? 10. Is it true that the infant Saint-Roch n:fused suck on Wed nesdays and Fridays? II. What is one to think of the excommunication of vermin in t he sixteenth century? 12. Is one to approve of the Italian cobbler Lovat who, having cut off his testicles, crucified himself. 13. What was God doing with himself before the creation? 14. Might not the beatific vision become a source of boredom, in the long run? 15. Is it true that Judas' torments are suspended on Saturdays? 16. What if the mass for the dead were read over the living? And I recited the pretty quietist Pater, Our Father who art no more in heaven than on earth or in hell, I neither want nor desire that thy name be hallowed, thou knowest best what suits thee. Etc. The middle and the end are very pretty. It was in this frivolous and charming world that I took refuge, when my cup ran over. But I asked myself other questions concerning me perhaps more c!osely. As for example. 1. Why had I not borrowed a few shillings from Gaber? 2. Why had I obeyed the order to go home? 3. What had become of Molloy? 4. Same question for me. 5. What would become of me? 6. Same question for my son. 7. Was his mother in heaven? 8. Same question for my mother. 9. Would I go to heaven ? 10. Would we all meet again in heaven one day, I. my mother, my son. his mother, Youdi, Gaber. Molloy, his mother, Yerk, Murphy, Watt, Camier and the rest? 11. What had become of my hens. my bees? Was my grey hen still living? 12. Zulu, the Elsner sisters, were they still living? 13. Was Youdi's business address still 8, Acacia Square? What if I wrote to him? What if I went to see him? I would explain to him. What would I explain to him? I would crave his forgive ness. Forgiveness for what? 14. Was not the winter exceptionally severe? 15. How long had I gone now without either confession or communion? 16. What was the name of the martyr who, being in prison, loaded with chains, covered with wounds and vermin. unable to stir, celebrated the consecration on his stomach and gave himself absolution? 17. What would I do until my death? Was there no means of hastening this, without falling into a state of sin? But before I launch my body properly so-called across these icy. then. with the thaw, muddy solitudes. I wish to say that I often thought of my bees, more often than of my hens. and God knows I thought often of my hens. And I thought above all of their dance, for my bees danced, oh not as men dance, to amuse themselves. but in a different way”

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Book:the Man Without Qualities
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