“To destroy wonder and mystery, is to destroy the only elements that make existence tolerable.”
― Clark Ashton Smith

In 1934, many years prior to the discovery of LSD, Clark Ashton Smith penned this short story about a sculptor by the name of Balcoth who takes a hallucinatory drug that comes from the distant planet of Pluto enabling him to expand his perception of time and space in extraordinary ways, including an ability to peer into his own future. Since Balcoth imbibes the substance under the guidance of Dr. Manners, a geologist familiar with the effects of this drug, he judges the risks minimal.

As an artist and creator Balcoth is particularly inclined to take the drug since Dr. Manners informs him how he will see some extraordinary elastic images beyond the boundaries of conventional Euclidean surface and slope. Ah, the Plutonian drug will enhance his creative abilities as a sculptor, a lure much too powerful to resist.

As soon as Balcoth takes the drug he is immediately transported to another world, floating through a cloud where all solid objects dissolve, material existence reconfigure into a swirling light show, a whirlpool spinning and twisting at progressively faster speeds. All of Balcoth’s five senses bend as the swirls of colors take on familiar, more compact shapes. At this point the sculptor’s sense of self is transformed into an all-perceiving eye mystically united with the various shapes in his visual field, which reminds me of that famous mind-bending sequence in the film 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Miraculously, Balcoth can see concurrently in two directions: in one direction there is a series of human sculptures running along a long unending hallway. Ah ha! He comprehends what he is beholding is a repetition of his own human body as it existed in successive previous moments, that is, his various positions in space prior to taking the drug. He then gazes in the opposite direction: there’s a string of his future selves but in this case the selves do not extend down an infinite hall but fade abruptly into a blur of what appears to be a wall of grey.

The hallucination continues. Here is a snatch of Clark Ashton Smith’s vivid language describing the sculptor’s more detailed vision as he revisits his own past: “Balcoth retraced the three blocks from Manners' hotel to his own studio, seeing all his past movements, whatever their direction in tri-dimensional space, as a straight line in the time-dimension. At last he was in his studio; and there the frieze of his own figure receded into the eerie prospect of space-transmuted time among other friezes formed of actual sculptures. He beheld himself giving the final touches with his chisel to a symbolic statue at the afternoon's end, with a glare of ruddy sunset falling through an unseen window and flushing the pallid marble. Beyond this there was a reverse fading of the glow, a thickening and blurring of the half-chiseled features of the image, a female form to which he had given the tentative name of Oblivion.”

What happens after the drug wears off makes for intense drama. You will have to read this Clark Ashton Smith tale for yourself via the link below. Ah, hallucinations, a subject I personally have always found fascinating. And for good reason. As anthropologists, ethnographers, and scientists have known for decades, hallucinogens have been key for thousands of years in the lives of indigenous tribespeople across the globe. One book I have found particularly insightful is anthropologist Michael J. Harner’s Hallucinogens and Shamanism.

And there is also that controversial theory outlined in Food of the Gods by Terence McKenna, where the author recounts research citing how not only have we humans evolved from monkeys but we have evolved from stoned monkeys, how the imbibing of plants with hallucinogenic properties has played a critical part in the development of our brain and nervous system.

Turning to our 21st century world, although there is past research with LSD and other hallucinogens and books written such as The Doors of Perception by Aldous Huxley, in the main we modern people are cut off from hallucinogenic experience. Case in point: several years ago I took a Coursera - Introduction to Philosophy course where one of the units covered was Philosophy of Mind. The course instructors deleted any conversation among students touching on drugs. Oh, well, so much for hallucination and philosophy. Fortunately we still can read fiction such as this Clark Ashton Smith tale.

Link to this short story: http://www.eldritchdark.com/writings/short-stories/169/the-plutonian-drug

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In 1934, many years prior to the discovery of LSD, Clark Ashton Smith penned this short story about a sculptor by the name of Balcoth who takes a hallucinatory drug that comes from the distant planet of Pluto enabling him to expand his perception of time and space in extraordinary ways, including an ability to peer into his own future. Since Balcoth imbibes the substance under the guidance of Dr. Manners, a geologist familiar with the effects of this drug, he judges the risks minimal. As an artist and creator Balcoth is particularly inclined to take the drug since Dr. Manners informs him how he will see some extraordinary elastic images beyond the boundaries of conventional Euclidean surface and slope. Ah, the Plutonian drug will enhance his abilities as a sculptor. The lure is too powerful to resist.

As soon as Balcoth takes the drug he is immediately transported to another world, floating through a cloud where all solid objects dissolve, material existence reconfiguring itself into a swirling light show, a whirlpool spinning and twisting at progressively faster speeds. All of Balcoth’s five senses bend as the swirls of colors take on familiar, more compact shapes. At this point the sculptor’s sense of self is transformed into an all-perceiving eye mystically united with the various shapes in his visual field, which reminds me of that famous mind-bending sequence in the film 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Miraculously, he can see concurrently in two directions: in one direction there is a series of human sculptures running along a long unending hallway. Ah ha! Balcoth comprehends what he is beholding is a repetition of his own human body as it existed in successive previous moments, that is, his various positions in space prior to taking the drug. He then gazes in the opposite direction: there’s a string of his future selves but in this case the selves do not extend down an infinite hall but fade abruptly into a blur of what appears to be a wall of grey.

The hallucination continues. Here is a snatch of Clark Ashton Smith’s vivid language describing the sculptor’s more detailed vision as he revisits his own past: “Balcoth retraced the three blocks from Manners' hotel to his own studio, seeing all his past movements, whatever their direction in tri-dimensional space, as a straight line in the time-dimension. At last he was in his studio; and there the frieze of his own figure receded into the eerie prospect of space-transmuted time among other friezes formed of actual sculptures. He beheld himself giving the final touches with his chisel to a symbolic statue at the afternoon's end, with a glare of ruddy sunset falling through an unseen window and flushing the pallid marble. Beyond this there was a reverse fading of the glow, a thickening and blurring of the half-chiseled features of the image, a female form to which he had given the tentative name of Oblivion. At length, among half-seen statuary, the left-hand vista became indistinct, and melted slowly in amorphous mist. He had seen his own life as a continuous glaciated stream, stretching for about five hours into the past.”

What happens after the drug wears off makes for intense drama. You will have to read this Clark Ashton Smith tale for yourself via the link below. Ah, hallucinations, a subject I personally have always found fascinating. And for good reason. As anthropologists, ethnographers, and scientists have known for decades, hallucinogens have been key for thousands of years in the lives of indigenous tribespeople across the globe. One book I have found particularly insightful is anthropologist Michael J. Harner’s “Hallucinogens and Shamanism.” And there is also the controversial theory outlined in “Food of the Gods” by Terence McKenna where the author recounts research citing how not only have we humans evolved from monkeys but we have evolved from stoned monkeys, how the imbibing of plants with hallucinogenic properties has played a critical part in the development of our brain and nervous system.

Turning to our 21st century world, although there is past research with LSD and other hallucinogens and books written such as “The Doors of Perception” by Aldous Huxley, in the main we modern people are cut off from hallucinogenic experience. Case in point: several years ago I took a Coursera Introduction to Philosophy course where one of the units was Philosophy of Mind. The course instructors deleted any conversation among students touching on drugs. Oh, well, so much for hallucination and philosophy. Fortunately we still can read fiction such as this Clark Ashton Smith tale.

Link to this short story: http://www.eldritchdark.com/writings/short-stories/169/the-plutonian-drug
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