By Ramon Sender

During the Sixties-Seventies, I loved the democratic aspects of acid as a spiritual assist. It's hard to wrap your ego around a cosmic enlightenment experience when you know that anyone taking the same microgrammage and flavor could end up in the same place. I had an amusing vision of this circle of enlightened beings seated in deep meditation on some high plane, and -- shazzam! -- a bearded, stoned hippie materializes amongst them and gives the 'V' sign with a "What's happenin'?" This must have occurred a lot, at least symbolically. But the problem was that acid did not keep you there. It was a brief peek via a peak experience into your true self. At Morning Star we idealistically hoped that dumping twenty-thirty-forty LSD tabs in the Red Mountain gallon would provide enlightment for the Winos. But it didn't., although even today I still continue to hope that some chemical may come along that may be the true cure. I'm told, for instance, that there's an ibogaine treatment for alcoholics that's supposed to 'stone you for life' into a place where alcohol no longer attracts you -- but you have to travel to the Caribbean islands somewhere to participate in the program. Hell, forget alcoholics! What we need now is something that can be cropdusted over the Middle East that has the same effect as MDA or Ecstary -- even a mist of nitrous oxide might help. Back at Wheeler's and M*, the 'treatments' available for a difficult newcomer only worked some of the time. I did see 'city vibes' drop off someone in 24 hours at Wheeler's, but it was hit-or-miss. Anyway, Open Land could only work for people who were sincerely openhearted or could achieve a close approximation pretty quick. Those who remained stuck in their negative stuff became increasingly difficult for other residents, and at M*, the knife fights and screaming drove away many of the gentler folk, who were exactly the ones that we really needed to stay. At Wheeler's, Bill was willing to act as occasional cop, and for this reason Wheeler's worked better than M* -- also because of its isolation from neighbors. M* residents SHOULD have behaved themselves even MORE than Wheeler's folks because of the neighborhood, but instead things just became more and more outrageous because Lou wouldn't play cop -- or deputize anyone to do so. I tried to play cop once or twice early on, but I wasn't the name on the deed. Ultimately the solution seemed to be to make God the owner, but that just turned into a Gilbert and Sullivan operetta -- athough it seems to have worked at least one other place (Kentucky) but, as I recall, the Hog Farm God's Land experiment in New England went sour. Anyway, until there's a quickie Wake-Up exercise or pill that pierces the Veil of Forgetfulness in a way that permanently reminds a person who they really are, I think open land communities are going to need a filter of some sort to keep the true Impossibles at bay. There's no doubt that Open Land draws them -- because they've burned out their welcome everywhere else. And in a way it's sad, because of course they are exactly the ones who need the experience! Unfortu- nately, the Open Land cure doesn't work for them except in very rare cases. Of course, ANOTHER option would be to have open communities that also offered rehab services and counseling. Now there's a concept! But the problem is that open-land back-to-nature voluntary primitive therapy relies on keeping organization to an absolute minimum. That's why I tell folks who want to start a community to get a cow, because then the cow calls two meetings a day, and if you want a share of the milk, you've got to attend. And you can't get accused by a cow of power-tripping! They're the gentlest and best of creatures. That's a my two cents." .............. Ramon