I buy mushrooms on a regular basis and I eat them, in salad, in sauce. But I’ve never tried magic mushrooms.
From Harper’s Weekly Report:
The largest-ever trial of the benefits of psilocybin showed that the psychoactive compound was highly effective in treating serious depression.
This is very good news and should be embroidered into cannabis legislation. I mean, all this stuff should be legal (and we should dismantle the DEA).
So I did some research of my own, i.e., I called my brother to find out if he’d ever experimented with psychoactive ‘rooms, because of all the people I know, he’s the one most likely to have.
Yes, he said he had, although he couldn’t confirm whether it alleviated severe depression because he hadn’t been depressed.
Once he and a small bunch of musicians were stuck in Florida while the performer they were backing up went off on his own for some reason. For lack of anything better to do, they all took mescaline and trekked off to Busch Gardens, where they got intensely involved in comprehending what the animals were thinking.
Watching a bear, my brother penetrated into the bear’s brain. This is what he realized the bear was thinking: “I guess……………I’ll get up………………..and go……………….over………….. there.”
Adding to the experience, Florida’s native birds, colorful and exotic, were strolling along the Busch Garden paths, confusing everyone about why they were out there instead of in a zoo.
In 1971 Eth went to Madison Garden for one of the Concerts for Bangladesh, on psilocybin, probably. He said it was a matter of sitting there, saying, “Wouldn’t it be great if Ringo showed up?” and then Ringo showed up. “Wouldn’t it be great if Eric Clapton showed up?” and Eric Clapton showed up.
Et alia. Everyone showed up.