Al Jourgensen on living at Timothy Leary's house.

Publication Year: 
2013

image rertieved from rocksalt.mx on March 11th, 2014.
Al & Tim image retrieved from www.facebook .com on March 11th, 2014.

Back at Tim's, life was both chaotic and fascinating. In addition to taking me in, Tim let Gibby Haynes stay at his house for a while. Tim encouraged us to take whatever drugs we wanted - he was the guru of LSD, after all. But as an academic and researcher he wanted to see what effects different hallucinogens would have when they were coupled with different substances - coke, heroin, Nyquil, Hungry Man dinners. He would get all this hallucinogenic shit mailed to him from all these companies and universities and then test it on us every couple weeks. Actually it was mostly on me.( Tim kicked Gibby out after he peed in the drawer of an antique desk in Tim's office when he was off his head.) Tim would get me to shoot up all these laboratory drugs that were based out of MDA-ecstasy and Ayahuasca, an Amazonian concoction made from shrubs, leaves and Virola, a South American drug that you grind into a powder and cook down. Tim had me shooting up all this shit. He would be all excited and say, "Hey, I got a new package." And I would groan, 'Okay, fuck. Let's do it." I would shoot it up, and he would scribble down notes on how the drugs affected me. I don't know what he was writing because to me the hallucinations were always the same.
I'd have these horrific visions of hell and the apocalypse naked people with blood spouting from every orifice, skies that turned black, then silver, then white again; winged beasts with razor-sharp talons; and, most of all, spiders of all shapes and sizes. They'd fall from the sky. They'd come up from the ground. They'd creep around corners and crawl all over me. I'd be screaming and trying to brush off the bugs. And I'd always end up staggering over to Tim's blind dog, a sweet golden retriever, Mr.Bodles, that Lemmy, my dog is probably related to. I'd grab his collar, and he would take me outside so I could breathe without the spiders scurrying in my mouth and down my throat. Talk about the blind leading the blind. After an hour or so Tim would come out and stare at me. Then he'd take more notes and ask me some questions about how I was feeling and what I was seeing. He'd measure the diameter of my pupils and see if I could track his fingers with my eyes. I don't know if I passed or failed; I just know I saw spiders. The stuff he gave me was so strong that it took effect in less than twenty minutes. The visions were instantaneous, and they wee never enjoyable. but I'd subject myself to it because it helped him out somehow, and I knew if I did my job, my rent was paid and I had a place to stay.
Some people have asked me why I'm not angry at Tim for using me as a human guinea pig. Man, I could never be mad at Tim. I was a willing subject, and he was a good friend - a father figure, actually. I was this rock junkie, but he didn't treat me like a degenerate. He was patient and understanding. We had long talks about everything: quantum mechanics, esoterics, philosophy, psychology, the occult, psychedelic science and the opening of the third eye, even pop culture. He was a knowledgeable figure who had credentials, and we had a strong bond with one another.
-pg.176-77, MINISTRY: The Lost Gospels According to Al Jourgensen by Al Jourgensen with Jon Wiederhorn, 2013.

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