Psytrance

Posted here at request of Steve Magiclantern, this is an article from"God Doesn't Talk to me when I wear my purple hat".

 

Psytrance is a musical style that developed from techno in the early to mid 1990s. Early psytrance was often played at beach parties in Goa and Ibiza. Like techno, it usually consists of fast, danceable 4:4 beats, but is characterized by a higher preponderance of squelchy, wibbly noises that add more complicated layers to the music. It sometimes has other rhythm styles and sometimes is slower and easier to follow.

Here are two testimonials describing the amazing benefits of getting into psytrance.

“If you get into psytrance it really does change your life. You instantly become more cool for one, and if you play your cards right you can suddenly have new friends from all around the world. You can look down on other musical styles as being simplistic, and for less trendy people.

It makes you feel and hear music in a whole new way. You can meld in with the energy of it, feeling the pulsing rhythms course through your soul, healing you psychically and mentally and physically. “Normal” trance and techno will always seem flat and unexciting, the kind of thing that less evolved people listen to.

Dancing to psytrance will give your body healing and happiness unparalleled in other yoghurt weaving styles. Healing energy literally beams out of the speakers, targeting your every woe, ache and pain. Different artists' music creates different types of healing.

Of course the most important thing about listening to psytrance is the trances themselves. Assisted a little by some substances, the music stimulates a variety of trance states in your mind and helps you communicate with etheric spirits. Gods and demons literally walk around the dancefloor, weaving in and out of your consciousness at your choice. Other trancers communicate with you in equally paranormal ways. The frenzied dancing that the music stimulates also helps in production of a variety of alpha and theta wave brain states that allow the senses to expand and the consciousness to flow exotically around you in layered whirls of ethereal mindfulness that are whipped into beautiful displays of trancendental dancing.

When you get into psytrance you will join and become part of a truly global community, and suddenly will be whisking yourself off to parties all over the world. It is not a small town thing. It speaks from a global perspective, it truly is Gaia calling us all to dance and be beautiful together, to break down borders created by politics and develop a truly global community. All are welcome in this new world disorder. Come see for yourself, you beautiful people! Come feel the love of psytrance!”

“That party were fookin' shite. Full'o pompous rich kids wi' dreadlocks fookin' trippin' ther noots off. Acid an' 2CI an' that. Look down ther'noses at yer if ye've a can o'beer in y'hand. Thinkin'ther in anoother dimension or summat. Take the drugs away the'd al' be sittin'down watchin' Corry like th'rest of'us.

Shame tha', cos the music weren't ‘alf bad. Like at Samsara bu'bit more interestin', y'know. Be good ter listen to wi'some proper party'eds. The'say thez  a festival playin' this stuff soon, bu'i'ss in Portugal. Who da' fook's got money te go out there? Global Community, pah! For those tha'can afford it. An'ar' pompous enough. Fook tha'shite. I'm off t'a real party.”

A snippet from my novel

Now some of the other things happening in the room were beginning to get clearer. The lights were coming from the walls and they were indeed a mixture of yellow, orange and lilac. He had thought this odd before in his dream-like state but now he understood that these walls were made entirely of crystal, and the crystal itself was glowing in a chaotic, transient flow of these colours and numerous mixtures thereof. 

Boon became transfixed by the walls, gazing around at them, trying to take in the whole scene at once, his mind becoming more and more incredulous. However before he had managed to comprehend the walls, he noticed also the people standing in the middle of the room. There were two women and three men and they too, were a sight to behold with awe, for they wore intricate painted make-up that covered almost all of their bodies, and their only clothing – bar tie-dyed loincloths - was in the form of dangly accoutrements around their necks – shells, feathers, beaded necklaces and other jewels and talismans that were made from things found in nature. They were parading around in a circle, making wild gestures up, down and all around them with their hands, and they seemed lost in a deep trance. The mumbling was now clearer but he could still not work out the words. Boon was sure they were from another language, perhaps some ancient dialect that was mostly forgotten in the books that had been burnt since the war. They looked for all the world like tribal shamans that he might have seen on a documentary about the old world. 

The next thing that Boon noticed took him completely by surprise, as it turned out that two of the men were Paul and Yosi. He could scarcely recognise them and had to squint in the strange light to be sure; he also turned to Jenna for reassurance. She had been studying his reaction and when he turned her way she merely smiled lightly, nodded and pointed towards the dancers. This seemed to coincide with the beginning of a drumming sound coming from a dark corner of the cave – “boom ba-da-ba-da-ba-da boom ba-da-ba-da-ba-da” thronged the rhythm. There also began a new movement in the dance, where all five of the participants turned their backs to a different part of the technicolour wall with their arms outstretched towards the middle. Their murmuring became louder and unified. They were chanting as one: “RAA-KOOR-GARN! RAA-KOOR-GARN!”

“Five dancers for the five elements,” whispered Jenna into Boon’s ear. He utterly failed to understand what she meant but did not question it.

Soon, coloured light from the walls began to beam gently into the dancers foreheads. As this happened, the dancers continued their swirling and manoeuvring, and the five sources of light mingled with the lifeforce energy of the five dancers. As the intensity of the light increased about the aura of each of them, it began lightly to beam from their heart chakras into the middle of the circle. As the beams met, the light took on form – more and more complex shapes arose and the etheric swirls of colour became more solidified – one could see people, buildings, spaceships – and all the time the three dimensional picture was becoming more clear. The only thing Boon had ever seen like it was those 3D holographic adverts you get in the street. It was exactly as if the cave was showing a film, using the dancers as projectors.

Agape with wonder, Boon stared pointedly at the image in the centre of the circle. Firstly it showed a space satellite, tumbling over itself slowly. The view of the image moved around so as to show its position, in orbit around what Boon thought to be the moon. Next there were people in a remote village – in India, maybe – loading brown sacks onto a truck. Next, a newborn baby being injected with some fluid in a needle. Some men in a plush office high up in a skyscraper. The view showed the men’s view out of their window, over a huge city that Boon did not recognise. It showed also their faces which were gnarled, angry and very intelligent. Then there was a moving image of an ordinary street scene – all sorts of people milling around at their business, cars on the roads and in the air, except suddenly about half of the people dropped down to the floor as if dead. Their faces were full of anguish and screaming pain, yet whatever had caused this happened so quickly that there was not enough time for the screams to come out of their mouths. Cars crashed as their owners perished in this horror. Sirens and alarms wailed everywhere. Survivors filled the air with screaming panic and confusion. This last image stayed with Boon until the end of his days. He was horrified.

“They have asked the crystal cave a question,” whispered Jenna to him, quietly. “This is the answer. I do not like the look of it. I guess that you also do not. The members of the ritual will explain the meaning to us afterwards. They will understand the images as the cave does.”

Gradually the clarity of the pictures subsided, leaving the image of one poor woman’s face – who had just watched her husband suddenly perish – as the last picture to leave them. The beams of colour returned into the auras of the five dancers, and they then turned to face various parts of the cave wall before beaming the colour back at the crystal. This process took a few minutes; as it was going on, the drums slowly quietened down and the five dancers began to look visibly more relaxed. Finally, when all their bodies had stopped glowing, as one they got down on their knees and prostrated before the crystal walls in a gesture of humbleness and thanks.

The drums stopped. The ritual was over. No one spoke for a couple of moments, then all of a sudden, Paul rose from his bowed position and addressed Boon chirpily as if nothing was unusual.

“Shane, how are ye mate, good ter see yer oop an’about. This is ar mate, Anzir. ‘E’s a bit southern but e’s alright.”

The other man in the ritual rose just as quickly, walked over to where Boon was sitting and shook his hand warmly.

“Owright me’ol’mucka!” was his colloquial greeting.

Boon was silent, merely staring at Anzir with mouth wide open in suprise.

“Cat got yer tongue, eh? Oh,” Anzir began, hesitating as if trying to work out why Boon was silent, “Oh, that!” he concluded, gesturing with one hand behind him, vaguely in the direction of where the ritual had just taken place. “Freak you out a bi’eh? Daahn’t let it get ter yer. Looks like fackin’ mumbo jumbo ‘ippy shit, bu’ iss jus’like telly really, when you get used t’it, ‘cept it tells the truth, ha ha! You fancy a cappa tea?” 

Altered States - film report

http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0080360/

This film spins off from the psychedelic revolution in the late 60s, from the perspective of a slightly mad scientist who is trying to push the boudaries of human consciousness and knowledge by getting fucked up on hallucinogens. (Sound familiar?)

There are a lot of scenes with people madly talking at breakneck speed about bizarre metaphysical concepts, that would not be out of place in the Illuminatus.

Starting with early experiments using DMT the Scientist (William Hurt) then gets hold of some Fly Agaric concentrate from some Mexican dudes, and very trippy shit happens.

It is classic yoghurt weaving from beginning to end and what's more, when the really crazy stuff starts to happen, all the equipment blows up so once again there is no proof of the yoghurt!

Well worth a looksy if you are interested in altered states of consciousness. Definitely not to be taken seriously, unless you are the kind of person who is constantly in an altered state as it is....