Carousel

By Joao Serro

Much the way a historical novel offers a rich panoply of history as backdrop to the story and characters, Carousel (which has expanded into the novel, Psychonauts, coming soon to Smashwords), seeks to educate the reader on the nuances of drug taking from the earliest times to the present - from tribal societies to the popularity of drug usage in the 60s, onto the next generation of ravers and the 80s and 90s new wave designer drugs. This engaging narrative, told in the first person, takes place at a gathering in Oaxaca Mexico. The protagonist, Magellan, is struggling with life long fears inherited from his father relating to existential angst and mortality. These fears are the main focus and central theme which are worked out through the action of the story. Magellan also continually reflects upon his younger brother who has been fighting an illness and dearly misses him. While at the conference, Magellan meets a young woman with whom a romantic intrigue developes. But this is complicated by the fact that he is a happily married man whose wife of many years is traveling with him and plays an important part in the story. The plot is episodic, held together by the subject matter and the mini-adventures, beginning with a conference in Oaxaca City and ending with a road trip into the back-roads of Mexico. The main characters are artists, scientists and professionals, not your usual gang of tie-dyed-in-the-wool stoners. The dialogue is as entertaining as Plato: humorous, lively, existential, and informative. The author describes experiences with these powerful therapeutic agents as tools for transformation used by cultures for millennia with no history of two-headed babies or rehab clinics. Drugs in America are all thrown into one basket by the Puritanical policy makers beginning with Nixon in the 60s and Reagan and William Bennett in the 80s. The first non-medical Drug Czar, William Bennett said, "The problem with drugs isn't the drugs themselves, but the debate. There are no hard drugs or soft drugs. There are only drugs. And those who take them are criminals." This book re-introduces color and nuance to the black and white weave, and dispels urban myth, not with emotional knee-jerk reactions but with scientific facts. Drugs are not a criminal activity but a health concern. Users need to be treated not locked up. Taking peyote with the Huichole Indians in a ritualistic native setting with context is not the same as doing crack or heroin in the 'hood.
Over the past few years, after a political tug of war with the DEA, some remarkable breakthroughs have allowed certain study groups to have the green light for clinical trials using these neuro-transmitter drugs. Psilocybin (magic mushrooms) at Johns Hopkins, DMT at the University of New Mexico, MDMA (Ecstasy) in Switzerland, IBOGAIN in Canada.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Joao Serro
• Release date: Jul 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781476238074

Book preview

Carousel

João Serro

Copyright 2012 by João Serro

Smashwords Edition

Brother John and I went knocking on Shaun Hooligan’s door, but finding it ajar we casually walked in. Immediately the sharp smell of lighter fluid and propane gas wafted into our noses with the force of a spike. Situated parallel to the entrance of this unkempt room, Shaun’s cracked leather couch greeted new visitors with an unlikely toy store trove: a fluffy, comfortably love-worn teddy bear propped up on some over-sized pillows, and next to it, teetering on its side, an open box of Legos with several pieces madly assembled into a convoluted structure, somewhat resembling a Transformer space station. Shaun and Hubbard huddled unperturbed in the breakfast nook, studiously bent over a round hardwood table, noticeably absent of anything remotely breakfast-like. Instead the surface was a swampland of beer puddle, ashtrays, and half-eaten chocolate nibs, the detritus from the previous evening’s raucous social gathering, which regretfully I had missed. Brother John and I were there to invite Shaun out for a field trip to explore some remarkable churches built by the Jesuits in the 16th century, but Shaun and Hubbard seemed thoroughly oblivious to our presence. They were both focused on measuring precise minuscule mounds of white powder weighed out on a black metallic digital scale. Without looking up from his task, Shaun brusquely asked me to close the door to his suite and lock it.

You might as well tar and feather me, here and now, Shaun joked, his energy low but his voice always roused for humor. "Where is my cabeza? I must be exhausted from partying all night with the Hardhead Philosopher’s Club. I never leave the door wide open during a drug séance. The demon spirits will kill ya! Especially since I haven’t feng shui’ed the room yet. But have a seat."

Even though Shaun was being sarcastic about the feng shui, Hubbard still managed to turn up his nose at the mere mention of the term.

We wanted to kidnap you to see some sites, I said. And in particular, Brother John wants to show you this spectacular church with an altar and domed ceiling entirely made of gold.

That’s cool, Shaun said dryly. Count me in.

You’re welcome to join us too, John said to Hubbard.

You can count me out, Hubbard snorted. No more churches for me, thank you. I got all I could take as a child. I’m church-charred, for life.

By the way, what’s with the teddy bear and the Legos? I asked the preoccupied Hooligan, intrigued by the appearance of this infantile paraphernalia.

The teddy bear belongs to my daughter Crystal. And since I travel frequently throughout the year, our relationship really takes a hit. She gets extremely upset and that upsets me. It’s no surprise that we really miss each other. Every day parents are away from their children seems like a month to the kid - and a year for the parents! So before I take off on a trip, and we’re not just talking head-trips here, but to a gathering like this one, I will leave Crystal one of my favorite bandannas or a vintage T-shirt I’ve had for years. My stinky Pink Floyd shirt is a particularly good talisman. Now she can at least fall asleep with her dad’s scent, just as if I were by her side reading her to sleep. Likewise I bring her teddy bear along, one of Crystal’s and my wife’s favorites, so I can feel close to both of them by association.

Why, Shaun, how sentimental and romantic! I didn’t think you had it in you, Brother John playfully chided.

Yeah, well, don’t spread the word around. And as for the Legos, I use the blocks to work out some nutty idea too elaborate to think through inside my noggin. I amass the Legos by color and shape to visually represent my ideas and to give a visible framework for my cumbersome theories whenever I get stuck. Sort of like Eno’s Oblique Strategies, I guess.

That’s a cool approach… So, what’s going on in the lab here? I asked, especially interested in the composition of the white powder.

You guys want to try some with us, before we go sightseeing? It’s one of Dr. Gulliver’s more recent inventions, Shaun said temptingly.

Oh really? I exclaimed in an excitedly high voice like a little kid. What’s it called? And more importantly, what’s it do?

Again, without losing focus, and uncontaminated by my excitement (I can see where Shaun’s daughter Crystal derived her precocious hipster attitude), Shaun said world-wearily, It doesn’t even have a name yet, it’s so new – just another alphabetamine with a long forgettable chemical appellative. We may as well call it Carousel – because that’s how Dr. Gulliver described the feeling he had when he first came onto the drug a few years back. As soon as this molecule binds to your brain’s receptor sites, it seats you firmly in the saddle of a peculiar pony ride – a kind of gentle merry-go-round in a hyperspace carnival.

Brother John, forever willing to enter fool’s paradise, grinned like a maniac. Sign me up Captain, I’ll be first in line.

Here you go John, said Shaun proudly, handing him a gelatin capsule half-filled with the white powder. The first of the measured doses – 35mg.

I think I could probably use double that amount, Shaun. The Elevator you gave me the other day had no effect on me whatsoever. I didn’t go up, I didn’t go down, I was just stuck on the same old floor as always.

Another hardhead, I see. Well, I have to warn you, this drug has never been taken above 35mg. Only a few dozen people in the world have probably tried it, and only at the dose level I’m giving you. This is even my first time. If this compound was found to have almost no physiological effects at 30mg, but delivered a kick-ass psychedelic experience at 35mg, that is a good indicator for not messing around with double dosing. It means that the drug potentiates rather abruptly, so incremental dosage adjustments of say, no more than 5mg, would be the wise way to go.

I’m not feeling so wise today, but I am feeling crazy. So I’ll listen to your advice, Shaun, thank you - and ignore it, respectfully. Give me a 40mg shot.  Brother John handed back the gel cap and waited for stronger candy from the shrugging Hubbard.

Of course, as usual, I was instantly nervous, squirming inside my cocoon. Butterflies large as condors butted against the fragile shell of my stomach - searching for a door, a window, any exit – all I could think about was fleeing.  But the invitation to get high happened so unexpectedly there was no time to ruminate over my fears. I’ll remember in the future that perhaps the spur of the moment might be