places i've lived...
1) stratford ct
2) wakefield ri
3) cardiff ca
4) leucadia ca
5) providence ri

places i've been to...
1) almost every state (no wa, or, sd, co, ne, ok, ia, wv, mo, ky, tn, ok, ar, ks, hi, or ak yet)
2) paris, france
3) budapest, hungary
4) prague, czech republic
5) berlin, germany
6) amsterdam, netherlands

places i's like to go to...
1) pacific northwest
2) colorado
3) northeastern peru
4) alexandria, egypt
5) mount kiliminjaro
6) ireland
7) somewhere outside the confines of this atmosphere

bands i have seen at least a dozen times...
1) moe.
2) les claypool
3) the slip
4) umphrey's mcgee
5) STS9

movies i've seen at least a dozen times...
1) the big lebowski
2) office space
3) fear and loathing in las vegas
4) baseketball
5) point break
6) charlie and the chocalate factory (gene wilder)

things that have changed my life...
1) my daughter
2) a wicked car crash
3) lsd
4) moving to the west coast
5) moving back to the east coast

things i've accomplished...
1) driving both ways cross-country by myself
2) getting my MSW
3) 7 show in 10 days 7/03 (1800 miles)
4) drinking 28 ozs. of san pedro "tea"
5) voting for barack obama

jobs i've held...
1) go-go dancer
2) maker of hand tossed brick oven pizzas
3) doorman at an upscale club and a neighborhood dive bar (at the same time)
4) breakfast line cook
5) group home manager (currently)

hobbies/obsessions...
1) gardening
2) homebrewing
3) tropical fish (currently discus and SA dwarf cichlids)
4) collecting rare medicinal plants
5) enjoying the finer things in life
6) musical tourism
7) yoga

things i'd like in life...
1) to be more present and mindful in my daily life
2) a mandrake plant
3) drug transparency (i want my acid ON the blotter you sell me, and if i wanted MDA, i wouldn't have asked for molly)
4) to publish one decent novel and a few good poems
5) to share space and time with all the people i love
6) a bee hive

Pharmako/Peoia- Dale Pendell
Pharmako/Dynamis- Dale Pendell
Pharmako/Gnosis- Dale Pendell
Sacred and Herbal Healing Beers- Stephen Harrod Buhner
Jitterbug Perfume- Tom Robbins
PIKHAL- Alexander Shulgin
TIKHAL- Alexander Shulgin
Archaic Notions- Terence McKenna
The Food of the Gods- Terence McKenna
The Chalice and the Blade- Rianne Eisler
Ishmael- Daniel Quinn
Clan of the Cave Bear- Jean M. Auel
Thompson, Hunter S.
Kerouac, Jack
Hitchhikers...- Douglas Adams
Sometimes a Great Notion- Ken Kesey
Galapagos- Kurt Vonnegut
For Whom The Bell Tolls- Hemmingway
The Yage Letters- Burroughs/Ginsberg

When it comes to injustice and oppression, I see gender, class, and race as significant tools in perpetuating the abuse. It is my opinion that oppression by gender is the root of all injustice today. The dominance of men over women is the original shift in power that created many of the problems we see today. Before men had power over women, humans lived in egalitarian societies, where all were equally necessary for survival. As humans became more dependent on conquest, the balance of power leaned heavily toward men. This abuse has been perpetrated through the ages and has become so prevalent that it is difficult to imagine living in a society where men and women are valued equally. Everything from clothing styles to television ads seeks to reinforce this model of domination. We will know that we have abolished oppression when men and women live on a level playing field.
As the conquest model of human society became more entrenched, there was a natural tendency for wealth to begin to accumulate among small groups, thus creating the Haves and Have-Nots that would later become our highly stratified class-based society. Although Karl Marx was highly over-rated as an economist, his contributions to human behavior theory are remarkable. His writings on dialectical materialism defined class struggle and accurately described societies struggle for resources. At this point I feel that without making significant strides toward breaking down class barriers, there is little effective, lasting change to strive for.
Although race is a major cause of oppression in society, I believe it is secondary to class because I believe it is a construct of class injustice. Naturally the Haves are smaller in number than the Have-Nots, so they must go to great lengths to preserve the resources they have, while knowing that their grip is a tenuous one at best. They know that a truly united and motivated oppressed class will not stay oppressed for long. In order to retain power, the Haves must divide the oppressed groups so they cannot unite. They must keep them fighting each other for scraps of bread, lest they get together and begin to make demands for cake. Thus, race is the most visible characteristic with which to create this division. I do not want to minimize racial injustice, because it is the most tangible and readily apparent form of oppression in society, but I think it is important to realize who is perpetuating it and why.
In looking at the world through an ecological perspective, when I see so many people having significant troubles coping with their environments, I begin to wonder whether it is not the people who are sick but their environment, and by environment I mean our social constructs. As more and more people seek services from therapy to government assistance, I see more and more blame placed on those people seeking services. Politicians cut funding to programs while stating that if only people had jobs, maybe they would not need these services. It seems to me that what is needed is a re-evaluation of our societal values to be sure that those in power have the same beliefs as the rest of us. If these beliefs are as out of synch as they seem, maybe it is time to fix the environment to remind everyone else that they are, in fact, all right.
As I assist the homeless in finding shelter, I will remember that there is a problem with a society that cannot provide a roof over everyone’s head. As I help the unemployed find employment I will remember that there is a problem in a society where most people hate their jobs, and very few people get paychecks for doing the things they love. As I counsel substance abusers, I will remember there is a problem with a society that criminalizes and stigmatizes their behavior rather than break down barriers to treatment. As I house the mentally ill, I will remember that there is a problem with a society that removes these individuals from the mainstream, rather than teaches them to integrate. When I help the poor to pay for heat, electricity, or prescription medication, I will remember that this is a society that values profit over people. I will remember that there is a problem with society, and not with the people I see. I will strive to make time to be politically active, and to be directly involved with the neighborhoods and communities I am working with. I do not expect to be paid for this; in fact I recommend volunteer work as a way to stay connected and to work side by side with the people who would usually sit on the opposite side of a desk.
I feel that fostering community is a key element to making profound changes in the world. I feel that everyone should know their neighbors as well as they know their favorite TV shows. By building communities, we also strengthen families and spiritual ties. When we build communities we build not only our neighborhoods, but ourselves.
I propose a shift from the individualism that has consumed American culture for centuries and in its place, a focus on integrating the many components that make a whole being. It is not enough to focus on building individual strengths. It is not enough to focus on education, development of skills, and interventions. It is important to treat a person holistically and find ways to help them to integrate into the larger communities around them. Isolation has not worked, and only seems to create and compound negative coping skills. It is through a rich partnership with the social and environmental world around us that we become whole, healthy, and enlightened. It is through an eco-logical perspective that we reach our fullest potential.

the past present future of the soon to be famous euphoria brewing company.

on deck: pear lambic, perry mead, wormwood stout*, pumpkin lambic, hubbard squash ale,
fermenting: banana wine, absinthe mead, the andes are dandy ESB (Especially Stimulating Brew)*, 8 day amber*, belgian wit
conditioning: lavender mead, wormwood antique ale*
drinking: lemon balm hefeweizen, mead o' the may*, strawberry lambic*, sweet mead, raspberry gingermead
aging quietly: wormwood stout*, morning glory-ous mead*, pomegranate mead
gone but not forgotten: vanilla bean porter*

* euphoria brewing originals

chapters from a novel i have been slowly working on:

1.
Terence was a wanderer, left of center, and always on the move. He traveled compulsively, afraid that is he remained too long culture would catch up and tie him down. Today was a day when Terence could let his mind run with abandon as his body effortlessly meandered through the forest. It was spring in New England, time for the trees to come to life. The April sun had warmed the air enough to make bare arms a novel pleasure. The lazy breeze seemed to rustle leaves as the LSD gently swirled the air. It was a peaceful moment as inner tranquility melded with the intrinsic beauty of the world. In this brief moment all was right with Terence.
Ahead, there was a rustle to the left as a white-tailed deer darted across the trail, bounding effortlessly out of sight among the underbrush. Alone and unabashed, Terence saw this as an invitation to dance. He began prancing down the trail with the same reckless abandon as the deer, and found himself in a blissful state, moving faster and higher with every step. Soon there were deer on both sides of him, running with him, keeping pace.
Finally he came to a stop in a clearing, face to face with a tiny doe. Terence sensed no fear from the animal, so he advanced with a reverential step. The doe seemed to invite him closer until Terence stood an arms distance away, transfixed by her dark mysterious eyes. After several moments, she ran ahead then turned to invite him to follow.
Soon deer and man were engaged in a playful game of tag, back and forth through the woods. Terence would watch the doe until she stopped and waited, noticing her path and her motions. In minutes he was moving freely through brambles, following her every step. The forest became vibrant, as if it took on another dimension. Terence noticed paths through brambles and vines he would have missed before. He watched as the doe would put her head through a passage, position her shoulders to follow, and then step through. Terence began to imitate these motions, keeping his body low, square, and compact. Like a deer, he was now moving effortlessly though the dense underbrush, keeping pace with the doe without so much as a scratch or snag.
Apparently growing tired of the game, the deer leapt gracefully over a ten foot culvert and disappeared from sight. Standing at the edge, Terence was intimidated by the icy water flowing between the gap. Inspired by an irrational urge, he stepped back and took a running leap, landing on the other side, feet first, then hands, but dry. Sitting on the ground, exhausted, Terence thought about what had happened. Terence realized he had met his spirit-guide.

2.
At the beginning of the twenty-first century, the fate of the earth hung in a tenuous balance. Greenhouse gases flooded the atmosphere, while a culture overcome by greed swarmed across the surface. The temperature continued to rise as populations approached critical mass. Weather patterns had already started to shift and storms were stronger than ever. It was only a matter of time before the ice caps would melt enough to create a real estate boom in Arizona, as meth labs gave way to coastal mansions. Some people felt that it was already too late. Most people just felt overwhelmed and resigned themselves to the status quo. A few individuals carried a distant memory that, in the right situation, would awaken in them a new consciousness.
Persephone on the other hand, would awaken slightly hung over and late for work. She had little time to notice subtle changes as she rubbed the sleep from eyes, but was conscious enough to pick up the rhythmic drumming that still echoed in her ear. Last night’s concert had been the perfect release. A chance to get lost in music and dance away the troubles that usually weighed her down. Like most twenty-six year olds, she would admit she was a little lost, definitely searching for some meaning in the often mundane details of her daily routine.
Freshly showered and finally awake, Persephone stepped of the platform and onto the subway. She dreaded the thought of a daily fight to carve out a little personal space in the tiny box that would whisk her off to work. Finding a seat, she took a moment to collect her thoughts before the train began it subterranean voyage far below the sun she so adored. Persephone took a deep breath as she prepared for another double shift waiting tables for a bunch of inconsiderate bastard. Sometimes she wondered why she even bothered.
A smile crossed her lips as she remembered the desperate ecstasy that engulfed her as she danced into a frenzy last night. As Persephone opened her eyes, she noticed the slightly disgusted look on the face of a young man seated across from her. He was staring at the fuzzy patch that peeked out between the bottom of her jeans and the top of her sneaker. Persephone smiled again as she subtly stretched herself to expose even more of her unshaven leg. She gave the man a sultry wink as he turned his head to look away.

5.
Albert Hawksley tried to keep his eyes open as he sifted through this month’s journals. It would be another long night as he browsed the most recent research in a futile attempt to stay on top of the latest genetic modifications in switchgrass. Since the government began pumping huge amounts of money experiments with alternative fuels, bio-tech giants like Monsanto and AmGen exploded on the scene pushing aside small but once prestigious programs like the one at Auburn University. He felt his post graduate work slipping away as corporate interests eclipsed the academic world.
A race was on to adapt an already prolific plant to an even wider range of habitats. More importantly though were attempts to increase the energy yield by genetically enhancing the thickness of the cell walls. This would create an even more efficient vehicle for transforming solar energy into cellulose, which could then be fermented into ethanol, a clean burning fuel with the potential to solve a looming energy crisis.
Billions of dollars were at stake and personal fortunes could be amassed for even the smallest contributions. This was secondary to Albert, who really wanted recognition for his efforts in this noble revolution. With a sigh, he grabbed the next journal from the stack and continued his search.
As lines on pages blurred, Albert let his mind roam freely and it returned to the genesis of his fascination with plants. He was fifteen again and spending the summer months on his grandparents dairy farm in Vermont. After a steady three day rain, he was exited to escape the confines of the old farmhouse.
Roaming through the spongy fields, ever alert for a lurking bull, his gaze rested on a cow patty and noticed several mushrooms sprouting out. Albert had heard rumors in school that mushrooms were often consumed in great numbers by the ‘Deadhead upperclassmen. Overly curious and horribly uneducated, he picked the fungus and gobbled them down, choking slightly on their pungent taste.
For several minutes he felt nothing and assumed the rumors were false. Thirty minutes later, still wandering aimlessly through the field, his stomach knotted and convulsed. As he dropped to his knees sweat poured down his face. He wretched violently and regurgitated the remnants of his breakfast as well as his mid-morning fungal snack. A wave of disorientation swept over him but passed as soon as it arrived.
Opening his eyes, Albert thought he could make out his name among the chunks below him. Soon these began to swirl and slowly reconstituted themselves as eggs, toast, and homefries, until his entire breakfast appeared uneaten, on a plate. He stood up as colors exploded him and fell into the grass laughing. Time passed slowly, or was it quickly? The tiniest insect grew to monstrous proportions, then shrank back out of sight. It was at this point that Hawksley understood what Alice was really about.
Sunlight appeared as if it were through a prism, colors bouncing everywhere. Then the earth grabbed Albert and began pulling him down, grass creeping over more and more of his body until he was completely underground. Albert was amazed by the darkness, which seemed to drain away life. Yet he wasn’t frightened. His fingers and toes spread apart then intertwined as his hands and feet stretched through the crumbling dirt. Like roots taking hold, soon he was a network of mycelia. His head could feel the sun calling and slowly pushed itself to the surface. Finally breaking through, Albert was now a fruiting mushroom in a pile of shit.
Hawksley took this experience with him through his life, never forgetting the power that nature could provide. But he also realized how lucky he had been, finding soma instead of poison. This tendency would also follow him throughout his life.

14.
It’s ironic how some of the greatest vehicles of change are highly anticipated, boldly obvious, yet somehow utterly surprising. Since the late twentieth century, innumerable whistleblowers have heralded the eventual collapse of the oil based economy upon which humanity is so dependant upon. At the same time, other groups have warned of the imminent demise of the oxygen based economy that humanity is also quite reliant upon. Any real humor in the situation can be found not in the choice of self destruction, but in the look of wide-eyed wonderment appearing on the face of the archetypical human as it waits to see which piece of shit hits the fan first.
Sometime after the turn of the century the balance in the earth vs. oil competition turned away from petroleum. It seemed that human consumption would pale in comparison to ecological resilience. A series of events, beginning in 2005, would convince the world that dependence on non-renewable resources was not only highly irresponsible, but fucking expensive as well.
The first conflagration in the fuel crisis occurred when a major hurricane tore through the Gulf of Mexico destroying drilling platforms, pipelines, and ports, disrupting the flow of oil to the United States. Sky-rocketing prices, and long lines at gas stations were things the American public would not stand. Rather than downsizing America’s vast fleet of S.U.V.’s, the country decided to diversify their oil portfolio. They would never allow themselves to be so dependant on domestic fields.
Instead, they launched a series of neo-colonial wars designed to seize the largest oil reserves around the world, beginning with the Persian Gulf. Despite overwhelming military strength, the United States quickly became mired in a series of guerilla wars that overstretched the mighty nation. Through a great error in judgment, they soon found that their attempts to monopolize the world’s oil left them more dependent on fuel than ever. Other countries were quick to realize this, and fearing they were next on the list, began raising prices to the point that even the United States military could not afford the cost of war.
Isolated and out of money, the bully finally tucked tail and ran, limping home while trying to figure out what had gone wrong. In a little over a year, the United States had gone from superpower to almost out of power. Not to be counted out though, America has been nothing but steadfastly innovative throughout it’s brief history.
The president, now referred to as the mumbling, bungling, fool, took a lot of heat. Like any Texan though, he was a little too thick-headed to take it personally. Barely halfway through his term, he realized he still had time to return America to it’s former greatness. He was also lucky enough to have jumped on the right bandwagon a year earlier.
Despite his apparent mental shortcomings, he was still bright enough to realize that oil would run out sooner or later. Smart money said later, but a good gambler takes an enticing side bet when given the chance. It’s not called Texas Hold’Em for nothing. Being heavily invested in Texas oil also made the president owner of several sizeable tracts of land scattered throughout the state. This former ranch land was the perfect place for growing and harvesting renewable energy sources.
It was after the hurricane, but before the wars that the president brought switchgrass to the attention of the American Public. During his State of the Union Address, he made a point of touching on the impending energy crisis. In a moment of brilliant grandstanding, he announced incentives and tax breaks for anyone pursuing renewable fuel sources. At the same time, he presented switchgrass as the poster child, hinting that this was where to look if one where interested in taking advantage of these incentives. In the spirit of full disclosure, he never mentions the thousands of thousands of acres he had discretely converted to switchgrass production.
By Thursday, switchgrass was on the tongue of every American. It was given the royal treatment by the media. Legions of scientists-turned-celebrities were rubbing the cobwebs from their beards and Botoxing their wrinkles in hopes of adding a dose of eye candy to their well rehearsed soundbytes. The word was out, switchgrass was the future.
Switchgrass, Panicum Virgatum, was native to many regions of the United States, most notably in marshes, meadows, and along lakeshores. Standing about five feet tall, this reddish-green grass appears to be about as unremarkable as it gets. In most places, Panicum Virgatum would not stand out against the myriad other native grasses. But its widespread presence is one characteristic that makes it highly remarkable. It is quite adaptable in many environments making it an ideal crop for a renewable fuel source.
Switchgrass is more or less an adapter/battery capable of converting solar energy into a combustible form and then storing it. Through photosynthesis, the suns rays are transformed into food for the plant, the excesses of which are stored as cellulose. It is the cellulose that can be harvested and eventually turned into fuel.
When cellulose is liquefied, it can be broken down to form ethanol, an energy-rich carbon chain. This contains two-thirds the energy available in gasoline and has traditionally been used as a fuel additive to lower emissions. Ethanol shares many of the characteristics of gasoline, but due to its limited production, and the abundance of oil, it has been prohibitively expensive for large-scale use.
For decades a small minority of long-haired technology geeks have been harvesting the power of ethanol by converting their Volvo’s and V-Dub Bugs and Buses into bio-diesel burners powered by french fry oil. This hobby never really caught on as some mechanical skill was necessary to convert the engine, and some source of vegetable oil needed to be located. Large auto manufactures wouldn’t even fathom this possibility because crude oil was so damn cheap.
Given the current economic climate, the time was right for a total switch to bio fuel. Automakers began selling dual fuel vehicles that could run on regular gasoline, or on ethanol, or E-85. Gas stations began popping up to meet this need, and it wasn’t long before the yellow gas cap was a fashion statement. At first, this was more of a fad due to the lack of wide scale production. Over time though, more and more farms began providing sources of ethanol to the industry.
One acre of land could easily produce fifteen tons of switchgrass. This translated into 1500 gallons of ethanol. Mass production would begin to make ethanol more cost productive. The spread of large-scale cultivation out of the heartland would lower transportation costs, making ethanol even more affordable.
It was no coincidence that at the same time the typical American farm was being subsidized out of existence. New farming techniques and the use of genetically modified crops increased yields and reduced labor to the point where bumper crops were now the norm. This may sound like an ideal situation, but when crops were harvested at these rates, commodities prices dropped so low that corporations were unable to turn a profit on the products they made.
The Department of Agriculture, always friendly to the lobby of corporate America, began regulating the output of farms by raising taxes on farmland and offering tax breaks on acreage left fallow. The average American farmer was left trying to find a balance. If they grew their crops, they could not afford the taxes. If they didn’t plant, they couldn’t make any money.
As the farmers struggled to find some middle ground, their banks began to raise interest rates, leaving those same farmers unable to pay their mortgages. The resulting foreclosures would have left the Midwest resembling the dust bowl had there not been someone standing by to snap up all the land.
The oil companies read the writing on the wall, and instead of reinvesting their profits on repair and upkeep of their oil production facilities, began to buy farmland to be planted with switchgrass. As a lasting legacy, the oil companies left a festering environmental disaster behind. If BP moved beyond petroleum into ethanol, who cared if their pipelines leaked? They would be dry soon enough.
With the help of an inside man smart enough to look stupid and well versed in deception, the ruling elite of the United States would successfully drain dry the world’s oil supply, convert the economy back to agriculture, tighten their grip on the nations fuel supply, and convince the public that the world was being saved in the process. The whole thing went down in less than two years. The pieces fell into place like clockwork and would unravel almost as quickly.