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Teep Scenes

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So I’m still working on my novel The Big Aha. I reached the halfway point about a week ago. And then I ran into what my old mentor Robert Sheckley called a “black point.” I can’t see the land that I sailed off from, and I can’t see the land I’m sailing towards. A black zone in the sea of story. Whither now?

One obvious step that I took is to print out the first half of the novel and begin rereading it and marking it up. The process gives me a feel for where I am. Also it smoothes out the earlier stuff to match with where I’ve progressed to during this unpredictable growth if this particular “magic beanstalk.” Doing the revision can give me some momentum for the next chapter. And I can take inventory of the various plot threads that I already planted. Pretty soon now I ought to begin reeling them in.

Another thought is that I might as well put in an evil, psychotic, ruthless, murderous, half-mad human villain. I’ve often shied away from using characters like this, as I find them to be unrealistic and counterrevolutionary. That is, (a) I’ve never met anyone that’s really evil like that, and (b) presenting images of such bogeymen is in bad for the public discourse in that it promotes hysterical fear that leads to blind acceptance of police-state-style security measures. Usually, when I have a villain, they’re presented with a modicum of sympathy—like the tortured Jeff Luty in my novel Postsingular. But maybe not this time.

After all, I’m only spinning a tale here, a fairytale, really, so why not have an utterly unsympathetic ogre or a witch? The mad killer is a traditional action-fiction plot device. No need to turn up my nose at this time-honored move. Intense puppet-show conflict is good for the story, it gets the readers’ pulses pounding, and the villains work to set up good ticking-clock crisis scenes— will he kill again?

Looking forward to the next chapter, I’d like it to be an homage/evocation of the psychedelic Sixties. I want something of the flavor of William Craddock’s Be Not Content. .

Maybe even with an introductory line like: “I’m going to fast-forward through the following weeks, hitting highlights. Thanks to our budding scene, people all over the world would be doing qwet teep by the end of November. And then of course, the big problems with fairyland would kick in. But at the start, everything was good. We were turning people on. For many of us, life took on the feeling of a joyful waking dream.”

My rough idea of the flow is that, as I mentioned, more and more people are drawn into qwet—which (a) gives you the ability to jam your head into a trippy “cosmic” mode and (b) gives you a kind of teep, or telepathy, with the other qwetties.

I think of Leary’s Millbrook redoubt, with seekers coming to dabble in acid. I also see the cops starting to bug them. And we want a crisis involving the emerging parallel reality called fairyland.

I’d like giant group qwet teep session, sort of like an orgy, or maybe like an early Stinson Beach Acid Test party or a Furthur bus scene—only it’s in Louisville, Kentucky. And, while deep into the trip, the participants can pick up echoing vibes from qwet teepers in some other town, maybe New York, or maybe just Cincinnati.

Two months seeming like two years. Someone develops an ability to “bookmark” past psychic states, and hops up and down the timeline. Someone else gets stuck in a loop, circling around one particular instant over and over again.

A shrill argument that quantum amplifies out until a building collapses. The qwetties dust themselves off, laughing in the rubble, then restore the structure by talking to the individual atoms. The arguing couple swap personalities. Or mesh, exchanging only the contents of their left brains.

A guy gets fully into the consciousness of a housefly, absent-mindedly slaps it and kills it when it crawls into his nose, he freaks out, spends a day as a dead fly, oozes back. Some qwet tripper gets stuck in the alternate reality of fairyland, and only a few pieces of them come back.

A dream you can’t wake up from. Or you do wake up, but only into another dream, level upon level, transfinitely many of them. Someone gets an early premonition of the Big Aha beyond it all. Beyond mundane reality, beyond fairyland.

Ve going to za Vite Lite, my friend. Za great Alef’s home.

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4 Responses to “Teep Scenes”

  1. paradoctor Says:

    “A dream you can’t wake up from. Or you do wake up, but only into another dream, level upon level, transfinitely many of them.” Stanislaw Lem did just that, in his “Cyberiad” tale, “The Three Storytelling Machines of King Genius”. The second machine tells a nested tale-within-a-tale, including the fate of King Zipperupus, who is entrapped in just such a dream; “Mona Lisa, or The Labyrinth of Sweet Infinity”. He keeps waking up into the same dream.

  2. paradoctor Says:

    But Rudy, if you’re going to do transreal, and qwet is tripping, then the logical end of the story is how the 60s ended; people came down from their trips and life went on. If qwet is quantum, then it’ll be quantum-weird all right, but part of the weirdness is that it looks classical if you do classical observations. So it’ll all vanish away if you look at it funny, as befits a fairyland. In a story like that, nothing can provably happen, but anything can be plausibly revealed.

  3. Failrate Says:

    If you need the mad stereotypical villain, a few hundred people all having a bad qwet trip while watching some bond or hammer movies might spontaneously create him. Accidental qwet bogeyman manifestation.

  4. vanderleun Says:

    Leary’s Milbrook and conservative radio talk show host Michael Savage: “During this time Michael Savage also worked for famous psychedelic drug advocate Timothy Leary as keeper of the stone gatehouse on the Hitchcock Cattle Company estate at Millbrook NY, which Leary had been given access to. Leary hired him to the post because Savage did not use LSD himself.[1] Savage then earned two master’s degrees in ethnobotany and anthropology from the University of Hawaii at Manoa. He obtained a Ph.D. in 1978 from the University of California, Berkeley, in nutritional ethnomedicine. His thesis was titled Nutritional Ethnomedicine in Fiji.”

    Follow that and unleash the Kraken now that we have video of it. And when you get to the far shore do not forget to claim that land in the name of the Queen of Spain.


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