There is something confronting about the disembodied voice of a stranger on the telephone, particularly when it’s someone you may fall in love with. Continue reading
The Worst First Date in the History of the World
Posted in Fiction, sexual misadventure, Writing with tags Baby arm, Disaster first dates, Frankston on October 9, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle
Ayahuasca: A Memorable Fancy
Posted in Ayahuasca with tags Aldous Huxley, Ayahuasca, black widow spider, Dr Gabor Mate, Estacion Kapitari, James Fadiman, Living dangerously: Ordinary Enlightenment for Extraordinary Times, malocca, Michael Pollan, Osho, Tim Ferriss, William Blake on September 8, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle
5.
The malocca was transformed into a throne room and the courtiers partied in the room below us. I sat on my throne, a giant black widow spider at either hand, remote in the shadows. Continue reading
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Ayahuasca: A Memorable Fancy
Posted in Ayahuasca with tags Ayahuasca, black widow spider, Canadian, Estacion Kapitari, malocca, speedos, telepathy on September 5, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle
4.
The ayahuasca, a thick, tar-green puree, ran into the glass. I raised it to my lips, held my breath, and attempted to pour it down my throat without inadvertently tasting it. The flavour was like a fist squeezing the base of my tongue. Continue reading
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Ayahuasca: A Memorable Fancy
Posted in Ayahuasca with tags Ayahuasca, Estacion Kapitari, Jack the Ripper, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, William Blake on September 1, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle
3.
By the next morning, I felt physically sick and exhausted. I went to the dispensary and took the thimble of turgid green medicine. As the taste worked its way into my guts as a filament of revulsion, I considered giving the final session a miss. Continue reading
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Ayahuasca: A Memorable Fancy
Posted in Ayahuasca with tags Estacion Kapitari, Ikaros, Sleep on August 27, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle
2.
The ceremony itself transpires in a ritual space called a malocca, which is a large communal hacienda. Each of the participants lies on a mat on the floor with a pillow, a blanket and a bucket at its foot. The ceremony begins with each coming forward to imbibe the ayahuasca, not unlike a communion of sorts. Continue reading
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Ayahuasca: A Memorable Fancy
Posted in Ayahuasca with tags Bill Hicks, Don Lucho, Estacion Kapitari, Gabor Mate, How To Change Your Mind, Jim Fadiman, LSD, Michael Pollan, The Marriage of Heaven and Hell, Tim Ferriss, William Blake on August 25, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle
“By degrees we beheld the infinite abyss, fiery as the smoke of a burning city; beneath us at an immense distance was the sun, black but shining round it were fiery tracks on which revolv’d vast spiders, crawling after their prey…
‘The air was full of them and seemed composed of them; these are devils and called powers of the air, I now asked my companion which was my eternal lot? He said, between the black and white spiders.”
- William Blake,
The Marriage of Heaven and Hell
1.
I’ve enjoyed a limited, peaceful relationship with drugs and alcohol. I had a profound experience with LSD in my early twenties which had lived up to the hype with a bona-fide religious vision. Continue reading
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An Open Letter to Hannah Gadsby
Posted in Real Men, Statement of intention with tags gay pride, Hannah Gadsby, Henry Rollins, Mardi Gras, Nanette, Netflix, rainbow flag on August 4, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle
I just wanted to write to tell you how much I enjoyed your show, ‘Nanette.’ You don’t see a lot of genuinely incendiary stuff anymore. Incendiary and vital. Continue reading
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Death Symbols
Posted in Observation with tags Apocalypse Now, death symbols, Iraq war, The Things They carried, Vietnam, war on April 30, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle
Above: ‘Punisher’ emblem on RAAF Wedgetail surveillance plane.
“Such symbology… is always ill-considered and implicitly encourages the inculcation of an arrogant hubris.”
Lieutenant General Angus Cameron, chief of defence elect on his decision to ban the use of skulls, crossbones, The Punisher Logo, Grim Reaper and Spartan emblems amongst armed forces.
“We train young men to drop fire on people, but their commanders won’t allow them to write “fuck” on their airplanes because it’s obscene!”
Colonel Walter Kurtz, Apocalypse Now.
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Sara’s Geometry
Posted in poetry with tags poetry, yoga on April 26, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle
She comes among us
where we are marooned on mats
She passes through the ocean of whiteness
dressed in olive and black Continue reading
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Her Absence
Posted in Love letters, poetry, Pornography with tags August Ames, poetry on April 19, 2018 by Jarrod Boyle
Her absence
luscious and pendulous
rhythmic and sussurant
respires beside me in the darkness Continue reading
Theme Park at its Darkest 