History is ending, because the dominator culture has led the human species into a blind alley. And as the inevitable catastrophe approaches, people look for metaphors and answers. Every time a culture gets into trouble, it casts itself back into the past looking for the last sane moment it ever knew. And the last sane moment we ever knew was on the plains, fifteen thousand years ago, rocked in the cradle of the great horned mushroom goddess before history, before standing armies, before slavery and property, before warfare and phonetic alphabets, and monotheism; before, before, before. And this is where the future is taking us, because the secret faith of the twentieth century is not modernism: the secret faith of the twentieth century is nostalgia for the archaic, nostalgia for the Paleolithic. And that gives us body piercing, abstract expressionism, surrealism, jazz, rock and roll, and catastrophe theory. The twentieth- century mind is nostalgic for the paradise that once existed on the mushroom- dotted plains, where the plant–human symbiosis occurred that pulled us out of the animal body and into the tool- using, culture- making, imagination- exploring creature that we are. And why does this matter? It matters because it chose that the way out is back, and that the future is a forward escape into the past. This is what the psychedelic experience means. It's a doorway out of history and into the wiring under the board in eternity
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