@ people telling me to do DMT, I know, I know, but others on this site and elsewhere have suggested that it is possible to have a breakthrough experience without using DMT, though.
Now the reason I'm here in the first place is to test, not scientifically but... Well, all I can legitimately ask is that you give it a chance, it's like a theological or philosophical method I'm using... Anyway, I want to test a model of reality that I have (not what this thread is about). The content of DMT trip reports corresponds in many cases to what that model "predicts," if you will, about higher-dimensional transcendence. Since I came up with my theory independently of a breakthrough experience, though, I'm in the odd position of feeling like I have access to a transcendental world, not by use of psychedelics but through a fusion of philosophy and religion. (I'm not special, I know, for I know of many others who have stumbled upon the same curious facts.)
All this being said, I would more than gladly consent to try DMT if I had a chance to. However, this website is not the place to try to arrange for me to get that kind of chance, so I'm content basically interviewing people here for the sake of my philosophical work instead.
Here's the thing I really, really want to emphasize:
I already believe in the objective validity of DMT breakthroughs. In the fantasy series
The Chronicles of Thomas Covenant the Unbeliever, the protagonist constantly questions whether the "other world" in which he awakens after an accident in the "real world" is also real. He does terrible things thinking he's "just dreaming," even though there is a strange logic to the "story" in the land he keeps "dreaming" about (subsequent accidents shifting him back and forth between the two domains). Nevertheless, in the end he redeems himself by accepting that the mysterious land's metaphysical status has no priority over its moral value, and the author has tried to resolve the conceptual paradox he wrote into his series by arguing that the other world is comparable to a Platonic heaven: it is a sort of Kantian take on Jung's archetypes, a philosophically-defined
plane of existence, referring to or overlapping the same Earth as ordinary life. This is creativity that Meinong abounded in playing the game of, to take the category "ontological domains" and suppose that, in addition to all the spheres of existence we know of (physical objects, possible objects, fictional objects, impossible objects, or whatever worlds of objects you think there are), there were yet another unique one?
You ought to read
The One Tree from the chapter "The
Questsimoon" through "The Gift of the Forestal." I lost my job recently and to keep up my spirits I started obsessively reading the Covenant novels, and I picked up on the fact that the entities and their dancing that Donaldson describes in that part of that book were awesome to read about. He talks about this strange place lit as if from nowhere or everywhere, expanding infinitely, in which these people made of living magic self-transform in these versicolor waves of forms and enact a ritual in which they emulate being devoured by the darkness beyond all starlight. The
Elohim, as they are named, then try to make a complex deal with the travelers who are present in
Elemesnedene (their home). When the travelers return to normal space, those of their companions who left the circle of the
Elohim earlier relate that barely any time has passed, even though the interrogations before the ritual, the ritual itself, and the subsequent trade took much longer, subjectively for the main characters, than the slight span during which they have been told they were gone.
Donaldson claims to have never tried psychedelics. There is good evidence that he may be trusted in general. (Since he made his claim voluntarily on a site where he could just as well have never even posted a question by a fan of that nature, if he wanted to avoid admitting drug use, he could have saved himself the trouble of lying just by leaving the question unnoted in his computer records, one of a myriad others unanswered.) If he is not lying, then he achieved a medium-quality (or low-quality, others would probably say) DMT-like experience
purely by imagining it. (Well, this follows if
I'm not lying when I say that Donaldson's prose is not only exceptional but surprisingly unique.) Either that, or he used his talent as a wordsmith to contrive a series of descriptions that initially matches but ultimately exceeds the literary quality of the average DMT trip report of elves (the
Elohim are denoted by of all words
faery in the books).
In either case, it means something to me that he has ended up conceiving his fictional world in quasi-Platonic terms (as if this world were on a plane of reality somewhere between Platonic heaven and human Earth), terms that can be philosophically validated by the very theories that Donaldson may or may not be familiar with but which nonetheless backgrounded the theorists he
is inspired by. I mean Kant for one, and perhaps more obliquely Hannah Arendt, and John Rawls even more (and oddly) remotely. Others, too, but I want to point those second and third writers out because I might bring them up again later when going over some of my
own conjecture/"experimentation" or at least attempted
a priori argumentation. What Donaldson's conception means as applied here is that there are two viable models of the DMT breakthrough experience that conform to the following criteria:
1. Validates the feeling of objective validity that often accompanies DMT trip reports.
2. Does not do so by adding more entities to the world than are necessary (Occam's Razor).
The first model is that of the breakthrough reality as a
transcendental instead of a
transcendent plane of existence. The distinction depends on archaic fidelity to the idea that adding "al" to "ic" to make "ical" (as in
synthetic vs.
synthetical) as a suffix is subtly, yet profoundly, significant. I don't know if T. McKenna is the one who first described DMT as a "metaphysical pill," but that might be some of best shorthand for it yet. For suppose that doing DMT causes you to activate all of your imagination, all of your capacity for hallucination, all of your pattern recognition software, all of your pure mathematical intuition, and the rest at maximum output. You will imagine something, dream awake, with perfect lucidity and finesse, yet you will be devoting your imagination to the task of
accurately representing, as if by illustration, the truths of the world. Like a perfect VR simulation, in a university in heaven. So the content of these representations you would experience as the truth: it
is the truth. It is as if the entire world around you is set up as a statement of the ultimate reality. And that's because, while you're on DMT, it
is. Your ability to deceive yourself is completely shut down. You
know, and you don't do anything to stop yourself from knowing. And because you suddenly know all of this, you infer in a flash how to meditate so perfectly that you might as well have been translated to heaven. And then your DMT-wrought reasoning raptures you into that state of meditation, and...
There's another way I think DMT might work, though, similar to the above but more difficult of ascent and therefore proof. According to this theory, because of Kant's "ought-implies-can" rule, it can be shown that there is another world than the one I am using a computer in right now. This world transcends my physical life. It is where free will in itself exists, where immortality is possible in some abstract, virtually ineffable way (and this
for everyone in existence), a world from which ours might have been created (not just reflected). And due in part to the logic behind the Square of Opposition in the educational history of formal reasoning, I believe that diagramming abstract relationships using concrete geometric figures is a way to show
what those relationships look like, on the level of reality in which they are to be located. So if Kant says that the ultimate moral law is a threefold principle each aspect of which reciprocally implies the others, and if the Christian Trinity is conceived likewise, and if triadic conceptions recur for natural and spiritual or religious reasons throughout our lives, then I would think that, if you could directly "see" morality, it would assume a triangular form at its primordial depths. As if its particles were triangular, or its cells, maybe.
I have a slew of arguments for why and how these triangles would convert into more intricate structures, including and eclipsing something surpassingly evocative of the DMT chrysanthemum (see the first image for the entry
http://mathworld.wolfram...tahedronStellations.html in the Wolfram Mathworld encyclopedia). But right now, I just want to propose that it's
possible for there to be this special crystallization of ethical value on another plane of existence, because surely we don't "see" morality the same way we see physical objects, yet as Kant has persuaded me to affirm, free will is different from ordinary cause and effect and therefore is not just an attribute of physical reality, but a counterpart thereto.