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The Rose of Paracelsus
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Body of water of Radiance: An Interview with William Leonard Pickard (The Oak Tree Review)
The Rose of Paracelsus by William Leonard Pickard (Psychedelic Press)
The "Acid King," Serving Life Without Parole, Speaks to The Influence (The Influence)
Watch video on The Rose of Paracelsus
presented at University of Greenwich London
with readings past Simon Tyszko, Greg Sams, and Nese Devenot
The Rose of Paracelsus
On Secrets and Sacraments
past
William Leonard Pickard
At present Bachelor
Usa U.k. Frg Italian republic
A Harvard researcher explores an international entheogen system,
discovering their practices leading to cognitive enhancement and,
arguably, the next human form.
From Cambridge to Moscow, Oxford to Zurich, Princeton to Marzar-i-Sharif
and Bangkok, this journal of research interviews records the lifestyles
within a most rare and elusive organization, one that has evolved special gifts:
avant-garde capacities of thought, retentiveness, empathy and perception.
Chapter I
Limantour Beach, Betoken Reyes, California
"I had been permitted a carefully limited glance at the edges of a worldwide system, the existence of which had never been proven. My writings henceforth were but a fitful remembrance, not but of these virtually uncommon of interviews, but of complex ephemera barely recordable even so accented. They were and then utterly unforgettable that, in gild for the observer to function, they must be forgotten.
I sat speechless in a hypnogogic state while he seemed to transform, in the shifting firelight and white racket and the reflections of x-yard fingers of fractal silver waves, into a spectrum of beings. He reaggregated every bit the alchemist Paracelsus, as the Gnostic wizard Hermes Trismegistus, equally an ecclesiastical conspirator in 16th Century Basel, as an itinerant tinker on a Scottish beach. He became the angel St. John saw in the lord's day, then all the healers and medicines of the globe: the heretical anatomy of Galen and Vesalius, the antisepsis of Lister, the anesthesia of Crawford.
Finally, the dreamlike light evidence slowed, the changes merging into a single, still, perfectly clear prospect. At that place appeared at last only Crimson himself, simply poking the embers effectually and placing driftwood, as if nothing at all had occurred except two friends warming themselves below the universal awning. After the psychic conflagrations, I took quite some moments to recover.
'Something more than you wished to know?' he said, with gravitas."
Chapter Two
Hoshin-ji Monastery, San Francisco
"I first detect Helen, a very elderly nun with snowy hair, and often escort her about the monastery. Every bit she gradually becomes infirm, so an invalid, I find a blue silk kimono for her, ane with finches and streams and lilacs. On the night of her death, she tells me of being a small girl - at Hiroshima.
Possibly she is febrile. I open her Japanese fan and try cooling her face up. We are behind a shoji screen for privacy. In her uncomplicated spare room, incense lifts in whorls in the air.
'Where were y'all?'
'I was in blue satin and patent leather pumps that solar day. We were pretending a tea party in the garden of the walled estate, singing children'south songs. She was laughing and pointing upwardly at the kites, when the light blinded her. Nosotros staggered outside. The silhouettes of schoolchildren were etched into the consulate walls. Mothers with prams, the pink kites, our little friends, the rose garden, all gone ...' "
Chapter Three
Walden Swimming, Cambridge
"The heavyweight eight crew, pulling the long blades of their rowing sculls in tandem, raced down the Charles river under Longfellow Span. It was a halcyon August at fair Harvard: the vivid plumages of students, umbrellas adorning the broad mossy banks of the Charles'southward tawny waterway, the summer curving in from some mystic latitude.
We continued up the Charles in the evening, where Memorial Drive traffic had been blocked off all the way to MIT. Beneath grand tents, almost-nude Taiko drummers in sweaty loincloths struck dandy drums in racy, overheated rhythms. Flocks of skaters swayed like ocean grasses as they flowed down open lanes, semi-professional person mourners wore skeletal masks in a burying procession for the Chemical Weapons Treaty, Danish women engineers picked suggestively at the tassels of cushions beside owlish, frozen MIT students, while strobes and lasers shot from high suites in Lowell and Eliot Houses.
The light show precipitated thoughts of Crimson, and how Harvard students were not unlike the six chemists. Both groups had a global theater of operations; they were exiles of circumstance from many worlds, even so in that location was a fantastic poesy to them."
Affiliate V
Berlin
"The bedroom door opened and closed silently as if by the passing of a monastic nun detaching herself from meditation and prayer. An electrifying haute couture model emerged, somewhat disheveled. She was bare but for scraps of diaphanous attire stretched across her narrow hips. With close-cropped pale blond hair equally if from eternal days at the Arctic Circle, she had blue, intelligent eyes that seemed to reverberate unspeakable tragedies and glories, and insensate lust.
Transported, I thought of Schiller: 'Her movements are then mysterious and her figure so elegant; who can she be?'"
"All the lamps had been draped in red silk, their harshness dimmed; the suite appeared as some baronial rouge bordello, or a sanctum for the Epicurean erotic mysteries. Three sticks of sandalwood incense burned, curling into drifting vapors, while the "Song to the Moon," an aria from Dvorak'southward Rusalka, played with poignant air. Inside this occult scene, there was a sense of some primordial pedagogy being handed down. A shower was running, and other sounds were muffled. I could not determine if mingled with the water were tears of joy, or sorrow."
"Before me, the women's admirable minds and bodies seemed the apex of evolution, their DNA entwined through stone historic period fires and billions of childbirths, until I felt at concluding the yearning of all lost loves, and saw its manifestation every bit pure young girl in a long dress with broad hat and ribbons, wandering far from her thatched-roof cottage, fair and sorrowful, remembering her missing lover with all her secret heart."
Chapter Half dozen
Harvard Yard
"In some passing fancy, nosotros decided on a very late moonlit walk in the Yard. The women began a slow, proud pavan, their entwined hands held high under the low-cal of the dying moon, their frail sopranos lifting in a broken Puccini duet. An achingly cute moment, I encounter information technology still.
We joined them at concluding, and we all danced on the steps of Widener, then danced through the Yard with our dazed endearments, irresponsible as flowers.
The pulse of the world followed us that dark, we the moon-keepers; the stars were a glowing co-operative across the heaven. We sang in the scented pools of air in these precious moments, for before long we would disperse throughout the nations, i day to be elders recalling the magic of the time when nosotros, from our lonely childhoods, finally found each other."
Chapter Seven
Bodhinath, Kathmandu Valley, Nepal
"Everything stopped. It passed as though it never were, leaving usa utterly transformed and completely untouched. Reacquiring my torso, at that place remained only a cooling perspiration and an indefinable thirst. Breathless at the psychic devastations and rebirths, I rested confronting a low exterior wall and broke contact with Magenta who, without looking back merely raising a hand, passed into the wide curvature of Bodhinath. The incandescent brume of Kathmandu beneath rippled to the vast range of Himalayan crests, their pellucid glacial cirques brilliant and sunlit. I was alone at last.
In the wake of the cognitive phenomena, I rushed to pray for the children of the world, for the ill, for the grace of normal consciousness. At this uncomplicated gesture of devotion, a troop of 30 very young Tibetan monks, all about eight years one-time, and every one lean and barefoot with a shaved head, passed happily before me, chanting in sing-song Tibetan the pilgrims' prayer on the way to Mount Kailash.
'Ka zher, lam kher' (Whatever arises, bring information technology to the path.)
Twirling the prayer wheels, each bowed to me, smile brightly, then vanished into the curvature. At this portentous vision I could merely follow in grateful reverence, my fingertips lightly grazing the cool enameled carving of each slowly creaking cycle."
Chapter Ix
Northward Harvard Thousand, bordered by Widener Library, Memorial Church, Massachusetts Hall and University Hall
"These were mind-warping years: the vaulting ambitions of Harvard's scholars, the Faustian bargain of the six chemists with their unearthly science and experimentation, the poetic quantum of both groups. The sunlight began weakening into blue shadows; everywhere was like a world dream, the children of the globe, imploring."
"On ane occasion I was maundering most Mass Ave as if in monastic rooms, having some internal dream colloquy, when I halted in holy wonder at the unfamiliar sunlight. It was then that one student - with her teasing, foxy, classicist's voice and a shattering irreverence - awakened me. Caught wandering into the Thousand, I was reciting some exorcism fragment from the Dark Ages.
'These are not the moors of Wuthering Heights, Heathcliffe,' she said."
"Only how six subjects worked their magic, and their potions, became some terrible preoccupation. I had to look for more than contact, if it ever came at all, for nothing was promised. Simply shadowy postulates were left of them, mere floating visions, merely since Berlin the sounds around me, the murmur of voices, even the wind off the Charles, were carved into nocturnes."
Affiliate 10
Moscow
"Thereafter, at the pace of lovers, nosotros walked from the Bolshoi as our breathes froze - sparkling, silent, falling - the 'whisper of stars' to Russians. It was equally though old and glorious civilizations comprehended a kiss. Beneath the Kremlin'south spires the Ruddy Star of past glories bathed her pale white pare, as nosotros entered the long and forbidding dark of the profound Russian wintertime."
"Yet it was only a few hours earlier I was due at the special archway to the U.Southward. Embassy, prior to meeting - at some indeterminate location through locked doors and assorted examples of weaponry - a crafty Russian officeholder who coordinated 5000 armed secret agents across 11 fourth dimension zones from St. Petersburg to Vladivostok. He was a Major Full general, the caput of the MVD Drug Section of all Russia."
Affiliate Twelve
Christ Church Higher, Oxford
"'Then you worry virtually drugs that go ritualized and legitimized by governments? That everyone uses without cease?'
'At that place may be a globe,' he said, 'in which the few awakened - those bravely disavowing drug apply - secretly seek a normal mind for a dark or so, and so tell the others of what they have seen.'
'And how how are nosotros to be protected from these foreign futures, when even the normal heed is forgotten? Whom shall nosotros trust, then?'
'I recall Lawrence's story. Nearly decease from thirst, he was wandering across the dry, shimmering desert furnace near Rhum, where he establish on a rocky pinnacle an ancient h2o pigsty. The remote spring was just centimeters wide, with sparse green grasses, and a mere trickle of the holy substance. The stones beside it bore Nabaethean inscriptions from migrations a m years earlier. In attendance was a bullheaded beggar, crazed from the sun and dying, crouched in a corner. He kept repeating just 1 thing to Lawrence, in an Arabic dialect.'
'What was that?'
'He said, 'The love is from God, and of God, and to God.''"
"The evening lingered. We shared reflective moments in the quadrangle of Christ Church building, until merely the waning shouts of Commemoration Solar day celebrants were heard. He and then took both my easily in his, and looked upon me with sadness.
'I must go, friend,' he said with reluctance. 'May your work inspire many.'
I quickly asked, 'Is there something you lot wish for others to remember?'
'Remember the price that was paid.'"
Chapter 13
Moscow
"Beyond Dzerzhinsky Square from the Lubyanka, crowds packed Detsky Mir (Children'southward World), a one-time state-sponsored emporium filled with stuffed hippopotami and dolls. A puppet theater from ane of the 200 permanent Russian children'southward circuses performed in the street, provoking delighted shrieks from a cluster of otherwise contemplative eight-year-former girls. Each had an identical bluish ribbon in her pilus.
They were the daughters of dead addicts and alcoholics, from an orphanage in the First of May District on the outskirts of Moscow. Pinned to their dresses were plastic cards with no names, reading just 'Children's Habitation No. 23.'"
"Their wan faces had forlorn glances at existent families and so close they could about bear on them, To these little ones, with a long prayer for their dandy happiness, I folded my hands and bowed."
Chapter 14
Amsterdam
"1 could have spent hours before finding an elderly person who recalled the jagged Nazi Siegrunes during the Einstazgruppen mass murders of the Shoah, the Holocaust."
"From some silent, remote retreat he was now forced into an espionage game, a planet of secret meetings that branded ane like an iron. A hidden curate in a vast, mystic church, he was an ever-growing question mark."
"I wondered what saved the half-dozen chemists from becoming madmen or ecstatics, for the psychological pressures were constant."
"The white women after each client were flushed with deep pink blotches, the clamorous constantly thrown at them. They looked at us openly, and frankly. Amid such infinite desire, one felt a profound intoxication of the senses."
"We ended our bout at Delft, a few miles from the coast. We stood below the spire of the Nieuwe Kerk, with its wet greyness grass and lichens on the church'south stone walls. A phosphorescent penumbra from a articulate sky moon began spreading all nigh us. I thought how sweetness the graveyard, with its scattering of bluebells."
Chapter Sixteen
I of Harvard K's Twenty-two Gates
"It was a new mind - not from some unwitting drug exposure - but from the presence of an advanced culture, equally if one were a young girl taught by Amazons as her gifts kindled in youth. Normal consciousness seemed but a horrible dispersion of cluttered thoughts and feelings. At a glance at present, colors were priceless. To my delight, in lectures the skirmishes of words seemed great battles. At this diminution of primitive idea forces, worldly formulae began to ennoble the walls."
"I remembered from Berlin her tsunami of pleasance, the night wild with joy. Those unaware of such unassailable religious practices might recall them the vilest immoderacy, as if their stellar triad procured slave girls - Zeitfrauen - as temporary concubines."
"In the pallid candlelight, I could see the enthralling shimmer of her blond hair, her ravishing effigy in a tight black tulip, her endless legs downward to a set of red stilettos. But information technology was just golden Hagendas, oddly prying into inquiry at the Large Hadron Collider under Geneva, and fishing for contacts with a researcher from CERN."
"He nodded somberly, but with a detectable air of guardedness, for this CIA Operations officer had forgotten more secrets that virtually remember. He concluded that his new company, presumed as first to be an innocent Harvard matriculant, had perhaps a roguish background that, as in Heisenberg's dubiety principle, might shift perspective the closer information technology was observed.
Having seen every species of animal, he projected a sophisticated, almost indiscernible wariness tempered with the polish cultivated past the cloak-and-dagger services. Nosotros kept it simple. I presented the issue of Afghanistan, and the offering of Stinger missiles. He preferred known waters.
'I'll bank check with Langley,' he said."
Chapter Seventeen
Uzbekistan and Afghanistan
"The Afghan/Tajik border region was infested with smuggler's havens and pure cheap heroin, and attended by village girls and crones addicted into destitution or worse. Like a vision from a Western farsi mystic, a long camel train passed. saddled with dusty women swaying in flowing blackness robes. Only their obsidian eyes peered out, fixed resolutely on the next paradise."
"A confounding array of tribesmen crowded the streets, from Mongol Hazaras to blue-eyed Nuristanis and Turkic Uzbeks. Scattered nearly on tattered rugs, they drank dark-green tea and ate carbohydrate-dusted almonds as small boys in white whisked abroad the flies. Toothless quondam men pounded hubcaps into spoons. Skinned lambs hung motionless from nails, while the azan - the call to prayer - summoned the faithful and rose upon the evening air."
"Under the shade of a straggling appointment palm, beneath a yellow-eyed nanny goat, a piffling dark-brown girl saturday naked as the desert air current. She tugged at the goat's teats, delivering a stream of milk into her oral fissure."
"Projects were getting out of control. I was due at a meeting on chemical weapons in England, for the Iraqis had only dispersed a cloud of psychoactive gas over Kurd families. A drug policy conference in Mexico was imminent. The Full general was due soon in D.C. - CIA wouldn't play simply State might. Taliban were encamped virtually Mazar for the final assault. The six chemists were intercepting me for their interviews. Harvard'southward demands were increasing similar an exponential curve into stratospheres of thought. Caught inescapably among these kaleidoscoping involvements, I seemed blocked at every turn. At moments, I most panicked."
Chapter 20
Washington, D.C.
"Short, portly and lethal, the General appeared in his limousine at the State Department port cochere at the appointed hr, together with his eclectic entourage of God-intoxicated mullahs and Uzbek and Hazara commanders, all accompanied by one boyish mass-murderer of note."
"He faced a stony constellation of Beltway Afghan players - all onetime hands in the Groovy Game - from clusters of CIA, State and DOD officials to astute, seasoned and incredulous regional diplomats and diplomatic mission officials."
"As he finished a frenzy of incisive questions began, 4 CIA employees in the back row abruptly stood, rumpled and in shirtsleeves. One opened with a pointed question.
'What is the source of your funds?'
No longer facing wizened, turbaned tribal elders predisposed to allegiance to this illiterate strongman, merely confronting the foam of D.C. analysts with decades of electronic dossiers at their fingertips, he faltered.
'Emeralds,' he appear, 'a hoard of emeralds. And currencies seized during the fighting in Kabul.'
An almost subliminal sigh passed collectively among the listeners."
Chapter Twenty-Two
Laos and Thailand
"The men are in tribal dress, with lined faces and long narrow mustaches under a melee of colored caput apparel. The strained animals, strapped with layers of ropes over heavy gunny sacks, are slipping and snorting - wild-eyed - on the muddy track. In the blurring estrus haze, locusts are swirling in the unreality of their advance. I whisper anxiously to my companion.
'What are they carrying?'
'Heroin. And yaa-baa, methamphetamine.'"
"Without their sarongs, the women are past the pool each night, their skin a shocking bone-white in the moonlight. As they purify in these last days of peace, they silently do ablutions over each other, condign tumescent from the cool h2o. They gear up votives on small palm leaves, and set them adrift. There is a white chrysanthemum, swirling."
"They write in elegant hands, notes on medieval rites, and drink fresh juices from a silverish flask, or feed each other grapes picked thoughtfully from freckled, warm clusters on a rattan mat. They compose letters with affectionate superscriptions to Thai priests. Soon strewn about the puddle are diverse volumes on Lao history, Burmese heroin traffic, Gibbon'southward more than prurient essays on the rape of Rome, and the corpus of exorcisms in the Dialogue of Miracles."
"It is the Floating Globe of an international conspiracy, unbreachable by those who dare not dream of information technology. The women'southward sensual love has the solemnity informed by thought. It is broken only past their laughter, like wild things. They sing in the morning garden, or while cleansing in the dawn seas, and ofttimes lie brow to brow, their eyes broad open. The moral atmosphere in which we are immersed sometimes makes information technology too hot to exhale."
"They sit together for hours, completely naked, slowly swinging dorsum and along in a lazy splendor, gazing at the states. Their magnificent sibyls' optics radiate a aboveboard and avant-garde intelligence. Above them palm fronds dance restlessly, nibbled past the ocean wind in the clement sky."
Chapter 20-3
Harvard Yard, Commencement
"Information technology was a gathering of wizards, with blue sky to crown it. Our futures were woven around these memories: the valedictory images of Harvard'due south standards in silk hanging from all the oaks and elms, every tree festooned with great medieval gonfalons and banners bearing the heraldic devices of the various Houses and professional schools. They passed softly overhead, like the gentle hands of Providence to a higher place those so blest.
For over iii hundred years the first to appear were the Sheriffs of Middlesex and Suffolk counties, in flowing majestic and ruby robes, carrying long wooden staves. The atomic number 82 Sheriff diameter a smashing silvery miter, swaying ponderously similar a saint at the Expressionless Sea. This bright and elevated spectacle - under my new eyes - was underlain with the tragic world at large: the twisted warrens of baked mud huts and earthen floors, flies and beggars and lepers, benighted little brothels, the unheeded shrieks in brutish, filthy rooms.
Before long the Harvard faculties came, with robes of many colors and the silken borders of their alma matres. Trivial girls with blue ribbons were frolicking by the procession, with garlands of roses in their hair, waiving to them. As the faculty noticed and waved back, their humanity truly shone."
"Both women were belongings hands - tightly, similar lovers - something I had never seen in them before. Their expressions were identical, as if they were the Hetaerae, high courtesans of ancient Greece, near to entertain a deux."
"At that place were no farewells from the two women, no smiles. The cab pulled away as I looked back at them. They stood with a flawless, trained posture, hands together in prayer, equally if their nakedness for countless mornings had been covered simply by apprehensive robes. Their images grew smaller. Even now, I see their eyes."
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Paris, Basel, Mazar-i-Sharif, Bangkok, and - finally - Wamego, Kansas
"It is the body of water of you I remember most, when we joined our jiff in the universal pattern, and I first saw your rapturous face and heard your wanton cries of delight. Now that yous know the truth of me, and I of y'all, how can we ever be with some other?"
"The edge of this page, and the stop of this letter, is similar a heartless amnesia that tin can never exist filled. I must stop for at present. I know, I know."
"In Kansas this day, where the wind has turned a bespeak or two n. Pelting and deject swirl like fume over the missile silo. The research subject's lack of veracity troubles me. His girl is forlorn, with a mask of fake laughter, and deserted by good sense. The clouds are changing too speedily, similar a clandestine storm.
Do you know of the Angel of Mons? In the Great War, after weeks of shelling and countless deaths in the trenches of Mons, Belgium, the British were in retreat, the heaven shot through with claret and light. Many witnesses saw an angel in the sky, guiding the boys dwelling. These clouds are like that - the Angel of Mons.
Know that all women were merely shadows of you lot. Know that I go wrinkled earlier you, to fix heaven. Know that you lot were always my sugariness moon craft, the gift of the Risen Lord.
It is likewise belatedly to discipline the eye. In loving triumph, I send you lot the secret formula for - the chemical science of tears."
Last updated: September xx, 2017
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