The heart has a dagger in it, it seems, and a hippie-type figure with long hair decordated with a Timothy Leary butterfly or "moth" in Hir hair is holding the heart over our town with hir feet planted in Mexico, where St. Tim took his first magic mushroom trip and decided to follow in the footsteps of Aldous Huxley, who had been successful in psychology with his studies of peyote and mescaline. This sign may have been generated because I restored the psychedelic line into the music section that I periodically suppress:

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Psychedelic
Deoxy/Leary | Any Reality is an Opinion | Leary MP3 | Leary Audio | TFQA | Leary Pics | sez | Allan Ginsburg Tale of the Tribe || Future Hi audio | LSD

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These are some of my personal favorite old psychedelic pieces from when LSD was a popular fad. However, I get to thinking that LSD is no longer a popular fad, and I don't mean to suggest you should be tooling down the highway high on 150 micrograms of it, so I periodically suppress the thing. Perhaps you should limit your LSD experimenting to twice a year in a special meditation retreat somewhere in Timbuktu, where it will be nice and legal. It was usually a good trip, but if you go the besotted way, you'll get besotted results from overuse, I fear. The most amazing demonstration of consciousness-expanding psychoactive effect known to man does not help you focus on a college quiz like the acetylcholine-based neuroaccelerators, but seems to work on a complementary variable, the thing that lets the the focus slide in the direction of the wide-open pupil. Still, I suspect that psychedelic neuroaccelertion is probably worthwhile just to get a feel for how consciousness is screened down. For a long time, nothing seemed to be as big a turn-on as LSD. On the other hand, its perfect safety is in question, especially with repeated frequent use. I quit taking it 33 years ago, myself, after overdoing it, but I still like to ruminate over the cultural experience of it from time to time. Like Leary, I have concluded that surfing the Internet is safer, consciousness-expanding in its mellow way, and a fine educational turn-on.

Now the next day I've picked up another heart over Wichita, this one held in place by a Mousketeer or Mickey Mouse standing on a rat's ear. "Who's the leader of the band that's made for you and me? M-I-C, K-E-Y, M-O-U-S-E!" Today I built a little music video into files here and there, including Frank Sinatra singing Old Man River in Anti-Aging Medicine, Longevity, and Life Extension at the initial quotation from George Burns at 101: "If I knew I would live as long as I have, I'd have taken better care of myself." Everything we've learned about the topic from experiments rats and mice is astronomical, hence the spirits in charge of improvements there may sometimes appear as rats and mice, it seems.

This month I treated myself to Cat's Claw Extract for DNA repair [Books/DNA Repair, Books/anti-aging DNA repair]. Cat's Claw extract assists with single- and double-strand repair, and repairs DNA photodamage, and may become one of the standard tricks of futurists who are working to live for centuries rather than for decades. It just may be useful for ALT - Alternate Telomere Lengthening via DNA repair, rather than via the somewhat more likely small molecule telomerase activators now under development. I had just cracked this Cat's Claw joke with M16 on my Life Extension Bibliography page the day before when the weather satellite picture (21d) was obtained. I seem to see evidence of the Weather Vision OUIJA-board "I see you, do you see me?" signal typical of exchanges between myself and cloud cover via web page mods. It seems our observations of the cloud cover scientifically support a universe of mystic visions equipped with miraculous coincidences, although the precise way in which visions are orchestrated is a mystery.

When I was a school boy I saw an educational painting of a great monitor lizard, a dinosaur, swimming in a Kansas sea during the Upper Cretaceous period. It looked like the "monitor" circling the Wichita "witch", above, evidently to inspect the kid from all sides, showing its eye in Minnesota and "Iowa". I suspect that what it means is that some fellow with a PC monitor in front of him is swimming around my site, watching "TV". However, in public I look more like comedian Steve Martin than like the long-haired boy or dreamy TV. Sometimes the whitish color of my hair gets to be too deathly Silver Fish-looking in the mirror, however, and I dye it brown, like I did for Christmas this year, to relieve the melodrama of a Grandfather Zone Mr. Green Jeans about too whiten, wither, and age into a small chisled monument, a few dusty volumes, and a pack of web pages alive with ghosts and spirits in living color. With a big wig on, I look even younger. I guess I ought to get my movies and documentaries ready for the final line-up, but first a few more days with this anti-aging medicine technique of cheating death....