Hellucination (Wrath Limited Edition)

by Stephen Biro

  This was a stepping stone in my development, but it could have also persuaded me to stop searching, by fooling me into thinking this was the entire truth.

  Now examine the incident in the context of Christian iconography: Could the vines have originated from the Tree of Life, the tree God created for us to eat after we die, making us immortal? Or what if they were the Tree of Knowledge, the tree that God planted in the Garden of Eden and told Adam and Eve not to eat of, since it would give us the knowledge of life and death, of righteousness and sinfulness? I believe now that was what it was. I’ve learned a lot since this time, when I was practically just an animal.

  Again, it was just the beginning, so I didn’t know what had just happened, and I wasn’t doing any research yet. Was just experiencing. Trying to find something to make sense of the life I was leading. I could believe my senses were giving me truth. Even the theory I present now is only a theory. After more of you read this, perhaps more can be explained.

  In my apartment, you see the young me sit up on the couch with a huge smile on my face. I stand and spread my arms out wide and announce:

  “I know you’re there! It’s going to take a lot more than some overgrown plant life to turn me away from finding what I need to know!”

  My hand grabs your shoulder behind the desk. It’s older me.

  “Now we are on our way. Cabin pressure is about to exceed safety limits.”

  You lean back in the chair and the room fades to dark.

  STUMBLED INTO BELIEF AND THE ASSASSINATION

  I lived life like an animal at the time. But I started having experiences while on drugs that made me realize something outside my own existence was important. I didn’t know its exact nature, but I could feel it. As a feeling, it built up to a point that I needed to find the answers that would give my soul rest.

  If we are merely animals with a conscience, why have a conscience at all? Why feel bad doing one thing and good doing another? I didn’t know, but I did know I’d already met the people who were willing to fuck anyone over for a dollar. I myself had done things to get ahead I was not proud of. I knew where my life was headed, and it felt horrible. I needed to change it.

  So I was on a quest to meet my maker.

  “Oh, wait, did I ever say how this atheist began to believe in God?” I ask you. “Well, I guess I should tell you.”

  It all happened back in that same apartment. I had recently bought a laser disc player and had it hooked up to my stereo for surround sound. I was excited. I scored a couple of hits of acid, I had some pot, and I knew my girlfriend’s work schedule would give me alone time this day. I ran across the street to the laserdisc rental store next to my comic shop (this was before I fell out with my business partner). I looked for something wondrous to rent.

  When I say wondrous, I mean visually intoxicating to the mind’s eye. Something worthy of LSD. Something that would make my mind think beyond its rational aspect. If you can’t get a picture for the type of movie I mean, let me give you some titles that are readily available:

  2001: A Space Odyssey

  A Clockwork Orange

  Brazil

  Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas

  Being John Malkovich

  Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

  Pink Floyd’s The Wall

  Alice in Wonderland

  Donnie Darko

  Eraserhead

  Frank Zappa’s 200 Motels

  Holy Mountain

  El Topo

  Naked Lunch

  Most of the films listed above are visual mind fucks, and thank God they got made. Films, in a way, are much like drugs: Sometimes they are a fun escape used to forget about a shitty life or crappy job. But sometimes they can be used for mind exploring or soul searching—which was my use for drugs. And I used films to explore myself and the realms of my reality, my life and what could be my future life. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t.

  That’s why I am telling you about the film I rented that night in the laser disc shop. After seeing it, I stopped professing my atheism, and I developed a belief in God. It caught me unawares and changed my life to the nth degree. The film is called Final Approach.

  The hook for renting it was much less spiritual, though. I had my player hooked up to my 5.1 surround sound, and the film used all five channels, boasting 20,000 different sound effects and boasting to be the first-ever production to use all digital audio. It also promised a mind-blowing experience, and since the disc sleeve had a cool, 2001-looking image, I picked it up. I also picked up Monty Python’s And Now for Something Completely Different. Little did I realize that something completely different was in the works.

  Back in my one-bedroom apartment, I dropped the discs on the coffee table and reached over to my entertainment center for my acid. It was hidden in an empty video box—one among hundreds—and if you didn’t know exactly where to look, it would take you a day or two to find it.

  I broke off two hits of blotter acid and stuck them under my tongue. I reached for my pot and my bowl from the same hiding spot, and I packed the bowl on the couch. I made myself comfortable and took the first hit off my pipe.

  Nice and sweet—nothing too green and nothing too brown. It was just right. I laid back and let the drugs go to work. I turned on the TV and sat back even further. Seinfeld was on, and it was fun to watch while high. By the end of the show, I felt the acid coming on, so I slid Final Approach into my player.

  “This is going to be good,” I said to myself.

  I cranked the stereo with its 5.1 surround. Back on the couch, I picked up the bowl and lighter, and it was flicked and flared before I ever realized it. The pot began to smoke.

  The film’s story bears repeating here because it changed my life so much. You could put this book down and find the film, watch it, then come back to this page and resume reading. Doing that would make me smile, but the movie is out of print, so good luck.

  And a Spoiler Alert should be issued for anyone who might want to watch this film later. Skip a few paragraphs and pick the narrative back up after my recap.

  So, with no further ado: Final Approach starts with a top-secret pilot flying the SR-71 Blackbird (that black plane that always makes me go “ohhh!”). He’s in mid-flight when he suddenly finds himself in an office, and a secretary tells him the Doctor will see him now. Confused, he passes through the door and is met by a man standing before a huge painting. It’s just a mess of blue and red that makes no sense.

  The doctor says, “What do you think of my art?”

  “I don’t know,” replies the pilot.

  “I’m very proud of this because I made it myself. I like to call it ‘Heaven and Hell.’”

  With art talk out of the way, they sit across from each other and begin a session. The pilot goes through a battery of mental tests, as he seems to have amnesia. The pilot gets flashes of his life and top-secret Air Force work, but it’s still a jumble to him. He sees one wife after another, and his flashes of memory make little sense to him, but he carries on.

  Then the doctor tries something new. They sit on a different set of chairs, with a small coffee table between them. The doctor asks, “Do you want an apple?”

  The pilot looks at the small tray of apples and says, “No.”

  “Okay,” says the doctor. “I need to really talk to you, and I want the most honest answer I can get.” The pilot is game.

  “Do you believe in God?” asks the doctor.

  The pilot freaks out in his mind. You hear all his thoughts as he tries to determine if he is captured by the enemy, has been thrown in a parallel dimension, or is just having a dream. He looks at the doctor and answers, “No!”

  He stands and almost threatens the doctor while screaming that he doesn’t believe in God. It becomes the most intense part of the film, as the viewer knows what is happening and I’m screaming at the pilot to stop! But he doesn’t.

  The doctor stands and lays his hand on him and says, “Well,
this is about life!”

  The pilot suddenly finds himself in his last living moment. He has died while on his last mission and realizes he just cussed out God and told him he doesn’t believe.

  This scenario was a ruse to discover who he was as a person; God took the time to talk and analyze him before sending him to where he belonged.

  (Spoiler Alert ended!)

  I was in the moment and I believed. Actors James Sikking (the pilot) and Hector Elizondo (the doctor) are perfect in the film. The tragedy that occurred is damnation because the pilot never thought about it.

  I realized I had never really thought about God or the afterlife as I merrily went towards one or the other. I had basically been in that pilot’s shoes, telling God I didn’t believe in him, and for such a stupid reason as not taking time to really think about it. It blew me away.

  I hadn’t counted on this movie questioning everything about my beliefs. But it did. I began thinking about my whole life, thinking about what I would say to God if face to face with Him. I had told plenty of people I was an atheist, simply because I never thought about it, because my Dad’s belief influenced me, and because of a few problems I had in early church experiences.

  I took a look around the apartment, looking at every item intensely. I noticed a divine pattern in everything. All the marvels around me came into focus, and I saw how I had taken them for granted. I saw the beauty of how we controlled electricity, using it for our own needs. The TV, stereo and computer suddenly became sources of amazement to me. I saw plastics and wood, fabric and metal twisted to shapes for our use. I opened the front door, gasping in awe at the logical progression of everything in the world, working together for everything and anything we needed.

  I began to realize how perfect aspects of this world really are, and I was Godstruck. I returned to the couch, leaving the front door open to circulate fresh air in the apartment. I sat and prayed to God for the first time in my life. I told him how sorry I was for not noticing His work.

  After that night … “I believed in a God.”

  But that’s all it was, and that’s exactly what I gave Him, just a belief in Him. Not the Holy Bible God yet. I only knew there was a Creator and that He loved me and I loved Him. There was no Hell as long as I believed in Him.

  That’s what the movie had shown me and that was exactly what I had needed. I didn’t realize it was just another marker on the path to greater wisdom. How could I know that it was actually the beginning of my path to the Netherworld? I hadn’t realized a belief in Him necessitated a lifestyle change. I just thought a belief in God saved you; that was all. After seeing that film, I pictured myself in front of God, telling him I believed, and not being in trouble for the other choices in my life. So I continued my life of depravity.

  We’re back in my apartment again:

  My happy ass sat on the couch, watching the movie Fight Club on TV. My eyes were pure black as the acid reacted to my pupils. The movie was at the point where Tyler Durden grabs a Vietnamese clerk and drags him from the store, into the back alley.

  I knew something was going to happen as I took a hit off of a nitrous balloon. The room began flowing and then took on the features of a parade. Everyone was dressed in late ’50s or early ’60s clothing. A 1961 Lincoln Continental drove down a road, surrounded by a procession of police and others. Two people were waving at and greeting everyone they passed but didn’t slow down.

  In the back of my mind, I knew the identity of the waving Lincoln passenger, and I jumped off my picnic blanket and raced towards the vehicle.

  “I have to save him! I have to!” I yelled.

  I made a running leap towards President John F. Kennedy just as a loud crack broke through the air! I felt my head slowly explode in a spray of blood and brains. My thought processes instantly clicked off. No sooner did my body hit the ground than I materialized back on my couch. I was breathing hard.

  I didn’t understand what happened but I still felt it.

  “What the hell was that?”

  I paced around the living room, simultaneously confused and exhilarated. I couldn’t shake it off. I knew Kennedy was supposed to die, but I found myself in the position to help him and I did, without thinking, without worry for my own life. That’s when I realized I would die for a greater good. Not just for my country but for any country and any family and any person.

  I looked up from the couch and saw Fight Club still playing. Ed Norton was about to shoot himself in the face to get rid of his false self, his Tyler Durden self, and he did. That is where I was at, more or less.

  I was pretty shaken by what had just happened. I slipped on my jean jacket as I walked outside to get some fresh air. The cool night air helped me think. I came to an understanding that my drug use was no longer just an escape. I was beginning to learn things about myself and my life.

  It was as if I tapped into the hidden knowledge of life. I became giddy on finding the road less traveled. I found the philosopher’s stone that had been ballyhooed for ages. Secret wisdom was now at my fingertips every time I mixed LSD with nitrous, because I always walked away with a better understanding of my life than before. Each time, I was transported to another level of existence. I’d done acid hundreds of times before but had never mixed it with nitrous. I had also never been transported to someplace different nor had out-of-body experiences.

  I began to get smarter about what I was doing. I became a technological shaman. The earlier shamans were using the natural guide of magic mushrooms or pot to experience deep trances and help their tribes with new wisdoms. I was mixing the technology of our society with the chemistry of modern man to explore the recesses of my reality and my mind.

  At this time, I believed I found the actual philosopher’s stone: The mix of N20 and LSD-25 in the human body, 400 to 800 micrograms of LSD and 12 to 16 Whip It cartridges filled in three to four punch balloons. This would give you five to seven minutes with the philosopher’s stone. I used big black paperclips to hold the other punch balloons closed while going on my journeys into the ether.

  So I found that extreme amounts of both drugs brought about hidden wisdom and secret knowledge. From that point forward, I began my quest to find secrets men have never known. Or to come to grips with truths that have been discussed for ages but to actually experience them firsthand instead of reading them in a book. I was going to the other side.

  MORPHEUS STEPS OUT, PAST LIFE REGRESSION STEPS IN

  AND THE QUEST TO FIND GOD MATURES

  I was back in my living room, and The Matrix played on the TV. I got comfortable on the couch, waiting. Then I sat up abruptly, thinking the movie had some kind of instructions for me. But it didn’t after all, and I lay back down.

  I took a couple of hits off the nitrous and let the buzz overtake me. When the drug wore off, I took a couple more hits one after another. I played with it, holding each breath as if it were my last. Three more balloons, filled up, sitting next to me on the couch. I blew my carbon dioxide and N2O mix back into the balloon and then took another hit. The room felt fuzzy.

  Then it happened.

  Morpheus walked into the living room, and the room suddenly flashed away, just like in the movie, and the apartment became pure white. He sat down in the love seat next to me. He wore the same type of clothes from the film, but he looked out of place on my leather love seat. He didn’t call me Neo and didn’t tell me about the Matrix.

  Instead, he asked me, “Are you willing to find out the truth?”

  I didn’t question anything and just went with it.

  “I want the truth no matter what.”

  “Good!” he said, smiling.

  I sat there and looked at Morpheus, er, Laurence Fishburne. (Nah, let’s go with Morpheus. It sounds more ominous, which is fitting.)

  We stared at each other for moment, and I could see deep into his pupils. I could make out what looked like galaxies swirling around in his eyes. A shiver ran down my spine as I realized he was the entity that I
’d met before, the one that had seemingly stepped out of the Rob Zombie video.

  Being in the presence of something from the other side was truly harrowing. I averted my eyes, looking down at the white floor. I squeezed the leather of the chair to make sure it was real.

  “This isn’t Kansas anymore.” I said out loud.

  Then…

  I find myself as a World War II pilot flying for the British RAF. I jump into the seat of a plane as the mechanics pull away the stops to let the wheels roll free. Sirens blare in the background, and people were running all around. I rev the plane’s motor and turn the aircraft towards the runway.

  I look up as 25 German fighters turn down out of the sky, towards the base. Bullets rain down on several of the other planes on the runway as I get into take-off position.

  (This was my body. I was like a fly on the wall, except what the fly was watching was himself. I didn’t, and don’t, know how to fly, but I’ve seen them in documentaries about World War II.)

  I pull my plane into position and speed it down the runway. My hands and feet work the controls properly, to my amazement. The plane arches up into the atmosphere, and it basically does what my body commands. Other planes follow behind me.

  I pull on a lever, and the plane screeches into the air as the city below me shrinks. Looking down at the city, I see it’s devastated.

  From the side, I see German planes flying towards us. I turn the plane to face them, only to find another enemy plane behind me.

  The bullets pierce the plane as I hastily try to turn. It doesn’t work, and my engine explodes in a rain of fire and fuel. The plane lurches to the right, then towards the ground. The gas in the cockpit flares. The mechanics of the plane are failing as I try to pull up. I’m on fire while going down like a ton of bricks.

  My ejection seat doesn’t work, and I pray to God. The earth spins towards me, and I plummet increasingly faster towards the devastated city below. I hit it with an explosion that jars me past death.

  Then…

  I was thrust back into the leather chair across from Morpheus. I was sweating, confused, and the smell of burning hair and flesh covered my clothes. I breathed deeply and sat up, and I looked at the entity. He smiled and glanced down towards my chin, likely so I wouldn’t look into him anymore.