Thanks to the pioneering efforts of Greg and Skip, a pattern is beginning to form around the effects of constant, low-level doses of harmal. But the other question which interests me is the effect of a high-level dose, two or three times more than I’ve been taking. I haven’t done this, partly because the effects would undoubtedly include high levels of nausea, but also because i’m unaware of the ceiling of physical safety. With most traditional psychedelics, toxic doses are many orders of magnitude greater than effective doses, and a high dose produces nothing more than a more intense mental bombardment; with harmaline, between three and five times the effective dose produces significant levels of toxicity.
Fortunately someone else does this experiment for me. I gave a bag of seeds to Charlie before he moved to Australia; a few weeks later, I receive his account by e-mail:
We took a trip up the coast a few hours’ drive to this beautiful lake/lagoon spot where we camped. Gorgeous sunsets and creature/bird noises. Mark saw a kangaroo and so was a happy man. We brewed up a big batch of harmaline in some milk Milo. We’d ground up about half a packet of seeds before we went. Some very gung-ho sub-personality must have taken me over, as I directed Shelley to bung it all in the brew (even though I had no idea of sensible doses). It was truly disgusting – as you know – bitter and gritty. Mark and I had full cups and Shell had very little, her stomach flatly refusing to ingest such stuff in quantity. Then a little later half a teaspoon of ‘shrooms to catalyse. Nothing much happened, and then the tell-tale flashing things at the edge of the field of vision started happening. The stars were intense (in reality) and it was as though there were shooting stars everywhere. Physical coordination started to go very haywire – like drunk, only more disorienting and made worse by movement, so we started to subside. I gamely went for half a cup more brew, which was rash because we were still on the way up.
Nausea started to get pretty intense and I had a long phase of vomiting and felt pretty lousy. Stumbling about vomiting and complaining. Shelley said I was quite impossible. Looked into the car boot for something and – Oh my God – weird visual light-show.
Streamers of light everywhere, flashing and zipping across the visual field.
But standing up and moving about was becoming awful so we gradually collapsed into lying-down mode. I was really rather panicked. I don’t know why but I didn’t make the connection that this was a plant hallucinogen, and that therefore some unwanted physical effects were probably par for the course. I just remember thinking – shit what if I’ve really had loads too much.
Then started what I believe is one of the most characteristic effects of harmal. Mark and I both noticed it. Not hallucinations but the ability to be able to conjure up amazing visual scenes in the mind’s eye – in full detail and 24-bit colour. You thought of it, and it was there, and you could examine it or go into it or embroider it with no effort at all. I think harmal is an imagination-enhancer, rather than a true hallucinogen.
I also imagined a lot of things (eyes open) and then they turned out to be something else entirely. I guess this is kind of hallucinogenic.
Another effect was some amazing flashbacks. Links between things became obvious. I remember recalling with astonishing clarity something you said to me, Mike (I forget what now), but it seemed very important at the time and very wise too.
Of course this went on and on and on. We had no idea how much we had taken compared to a notional recommended dose, but a lot and I kind of wondered when it would stop.
I guess this was after about 6 hours and things had quietened down a mite, but I was still nauseous, stumbling and totally off on one. I remember thinking that it might go on the next day. And so at 3.00 a.m. to bed. And kind of a trance, rather than sleep. Immobile, semi-conscious, mind and imagination wandering.
Of course by 11.00 a.m. things were back to normal again. But quite a roller-coaster.
Even allowing for the small handful of mushrooms, this demonstrates that harmaline does indeed have a powerful psychedelic action. I was to reach this kind of effect eventually, though without a noticeable increase in dose.
Blue Tide, 2000
William Barton
A Dissertation on the Chymical Properties and Exhilarating Effects of Nitrous Oxide Gas
JANUARY 1807, I first inhaled pure nitrous oxide. I breathed six quarts of it from a bladder. The first inspiration, by which I took about a quart of air into my lungs, produced no unusual effects on them, owing, I suppose, to its union with air contained therein.
The second by which I inhaled the whole volume of air contained in the breathing bag, was attended with slight giddiness, and a kind of tranquil, pleasurable sensation, accompanied with an impatient eagerness to expel the air from my lungs that I might again experience the same feelings by a new inspiration; this eagerness I manifested by a violent expiration, ‘that seemed’, to use the emphatick words of a by-stander, ‘as if it would have blown the bladder through’. During both these inspirations I was perfectly sensible of my situation, and of my object in breathing from the bladder.
When I inhaled the gas a third time it imparted a saccharine taste like that of fine cider; my vision became suddenly obscured, so that I had not a distinct perception of the nearest objects. I again felt the same pleasant sensation, previously experienced, the difference of its being less tranquil. This continued till it produced a pleasurable elixity I never before experienced, and of which no words can convey just idea; but, like all original sensations, it must be experienced to be known. I was affected with a tinnitus aurium, which I well recollect to have continued as long as I was sensible of my situation. A glow was diffused throughout my lungs, and at the same time they were affected with a thrilling or titillating sensation which afterwards extended itself through every part of my frame; but dwelt longest on the extremities. This sensation, as it respects its effects on the lungs, very much resembles the thrilling or actual vibration induced by the loud blowing of a mail stage horn, in the lungs of a passenger in the close carriage. My lungs felt as if they were dilating, and continued to impart this sensation of enlargement till I suppose they occupied the whole laboratory with their immensity. I now became totally insensible to the impressions of external things, and the rapturous delight which then entranced my faculties mars my feeble essay towards its description. This indescribable ecstasy must be what angels feel; and well might the poetick Southey exclaim upon experiencing it, that ‘the atmosphere of the highest of all possible heavens must be composed of this gas’.
From these extatical sensations of joy, I was aroused by Dr. Woodhouse, who now endeavoured to take the breathing bladder from my mouth. This I obstinately and violently resisted, holding the pipe with great force between my teeth, and directly began to strike him with frequent blows, which were reiterated with energetick strength, as I was afterwards informed, though I was totally unconscious of anything that happened during this delirious paroxysm, nor did I recollect it when it was over. The resistance I made was prompted, I suppose, by a sensation I well recollect with experience, of some intruding power attempting to remove the cause of my pleasurable inebriety. All my muscles seemed to vibrate, and I felt strong enough to root out mountains and demolish worlds, and, like the spirit of Milton, was ‘vital in every part’. At length I suffered the bag to be taken from me; and as soon as it was removed, felt ten times lighter than the surrounding atmosphere, which prompted a strong and almost irresistible disposition to mount in the air, which I discovered to the spectators by repeatedly jumping from the floor with great and uncommon agility. My sensations were just as I should imagine would be produced by flying. I experienced an unrestrainable inclination to muscular motion, opposing much and powerful resistance to all those who endeavoured to restrain me. I resembled those varlets, who, as Ariel tells Prospero, in The Tempest,
were red hot with drinking;
So full of valour, that they smote the air
For breathing in their faces; beat the ground
; The kissing of their feet . . .
And feeling like the presiding genius of all I beheld, beat with indignant resentment every person that attempted, vainly, to impede my progress. This superiority that I fancied I possessed over all around me was so ably seconded by my increased muscular strength, that some of the gentlemen who received my blows told me that they were applied with wonderful and disagreeable force. I seemed to be placed on an immense height, and the noise occasioned by the reiterated shouts of laughter and hallooing of the by-standers appeared to be far below me, and resembled the hum or buz which aeronauts describe as issuing from a large city, when they have ascended to a considerable height above it. I had a sense of great fulness and distension in my head, and my thoughts and perceptions, as well as I can recollect, were rapid and confused, but very unlike any I had ever experienced. By a sensation as sudden as,
with quick impulse through all nature’s frame,
Shoots the electrick air, in subtle flame . . .
I seemed to descend from the immense height to which I had flown, and by a quick, but complete prostration of muscular energy, fell into a kind of trance-like state. During the short continuance of this trance my feelings were placidly delicious, and extremely analogous to those I have often experienced in that state of voluptuous delight vibrating between a waking consciousness and the torpor of sleep, so elegantly, so feelingly delineated by Rousseau in these words,
Thus lifeless yet with life, how sweet to lie!
Thus without dying oh how sweet to die!
To this state syncope succeeded, and I was carried into an adjoining room and placed on a table near an open window. Here I experienced a slight return of the agreeable feelings I have before described, but only of instantaneous duration. The first idea that occurred to me upon my partial revival, was a confused one of nitrous oxide, which words I vociferated as I jumped the table with great vehemence, as I was afterwards informed. I felt much indignation and pride towards the persons around me, and entertained the momentary contempt for everything that excited an idea in my still chaotick brain. I felt as if I was an inhabitant of the Elysium of Rousseau, or the island of Calypso, of Fenelon, blown by a rudely malicious blast into a world of reptiles, where the atmosphere like the pestiferous samiel of the deserts of Arabia, was pregnant with destruction, and threatened inevitable annihilation to all those who inhaled its morbid breath. i now, however, as quick as thought, completely revived, and made the mortifying discovery, that the aerial world through which I had been roving with footsteps as light as air, was but the fascination of an inebrieting elixity, whose siren spell of pleasure wrapped me in delight.
A profuse diaphoresis appeared all over me, but was particularly abundant on my forehead and cheeks; and the temporal arteries both during the experiment and after it was over, seemed ready to burst with fulness.
The next time I breathed the gas, my feelings were, as well as I can recollect, nearly similar to those just described. In this experiment, however, I experienced one sensation, I did not feel in the first, viz. a kind of titillation of the eyes as if water had been dropping between the ball of the eye and its palpebrae.
I must not omit to mention here, that I also experienced in this experiment, and in every other that I made except the one just detailed, a sensation extremely singular. It consisted in a kind of semi-consciousness of my situation, yet unattended by perfect volition. Thus I became engaged as in the preceding experiment, at the vain presumption, as I deemed at it, at those who dared to oppose my motions, supposing them my antagonists; at the same time I seemed sensible they were not so, and could see myself under the influence of some incomprehensible hallucination, the effect of which, however, I was unable to resist, and of consequence combated with them against my will. I seemed as it were to have two types of consequence, the one persuading me that I was actually opposed by enemies, the other rendering me sensible, that this was entirely a misconception of the obvious reality, which was that my enemies were indeed no other than friendly spectators and that their actions, which were ostensibly inoffensive, I had misconstrued into the exertion of violence and power against me. Volition, however, was wholly inactive, or, if I may be allowed the expression paralized; of consequence I derived no benefit from the effect of its operations. I may perhaps illustrate this semi-conscious, semi-delusive of which, not withstanding my efforts to describe it, I feel unable to convey a just conception, by the following description of an analogous situation, by the celebrated Kotzebue. It occurred to him during the night after his arrival at Tobolsk, after a fatiguing, an anxious, and distressing journey; he had been, perhaps, affected with a disordered state of his mind, induced by the contemplation of a melancholy exile in the chills of Siberia, separated from his beloved family. ‘In the course of the night,’ says he,
a remarkable circumstance took place, the explanation of which I must leave to my good friends Dr. Gall and Dr. Hufeland. I had fallen asleep; towards 12 o’clock I awoke and fancied myself on board a ship. Not only felt the rocking motion of the vessel, but heard the flapping of the sails, and the noise and bustle of the crew. As I lay on the floor I could see no objects through the window, except the sky, and this circumstance added to the force of the illusion. I was sensible it was such, and endeavoured to overcome it. I felt myself, as it were, furnished with two separate minds, the one confirmed what I fancied, the other convinced me that it was all imaginary. I staggered about the room, thought I saw the counsellor, and everything that surrounded me the evening before, remaining in the same place. I went to the window; the wooden houses in the streets I thought were ships, and in every direction I perceived the open sea. Whither am I going? seemed to say one mind. Nowhere, replied the other; you are still in your own house. This singular sensation which I cannot well describe, continued for half an hour; by degrees it became less powerful, and at length entirely quitted me. A violent palpitation of the heart, and a quick convulsive pulse succeeded. Yet I was not feverish, nor did I feel any headache. My own opinion and conviction is, that the whole must have been the commencement of a species of insanity.
1808. From: Mindscapes: An Anthology of Drug Writings, ed.
Antonio Melechi, 1998
I mount! I fly!
O grave! Where is thy victory?
O death! Where is thy sting?
Alexander Pope
Unknown
The African Fang Legends
ZAME YE MEBEGE (the last of the creator gods) gave us eboka. He saw the misery in which blackman was living. He thought how to help him. One day he looked down and saw a blackman, the Pygmy Bitumu, high in an Atanga tree, gathering its fruit. He made him fall. He died and Zame brought his spirit to him. Zame cut off the little fingers and the little toes of the cadaver of the Pygmy and planted them in various parts of the forest. They grew into the eboka bush.
THE VISION (NDEM EBOKA) OF NDONG ASSEKO (AGE 22; CLAN ESSABAM; UNMARRIED)
When I ate eboka, I found myself taken by it up a long road in a deep forest until I came to a barrier of black iron. At that barrier, unable to pass, I saw a crowd of black persons also unable to pass. In the distance beyond the barrier it was very bright. I could see many colors in the air but the crowd of black people could not pass. Suddenly my father descended from above in the form of a bird. He gave me then my eboka name, Onwan Misengue, and enabled me to fly up after him over the barrier of iron. As we proceeded the bird, who was my father, changed from black to white – first his tail feathers, then all his plumage. We came then to a river the color of blood in the midst of which was a great snake of three colors – blue, black, and red. It closed its gaping mouth so that we were able to pass over it. On the other side there was a crowd of people all in white. We passed through them and they shouted at us words of recognition until we arrived at another river – all white. This we crossed by means of a giant chain of gold. On the other side there were no trees but only a grassy upland. On the top of the hill was a round house made entirely of glass and bui
lt upon one post only. Within I saw a man, the hair on his head piled up in the form of a Bishop’s hat. He had a star on his breast but on coming closer I saw that it was his heart in his chest beating. We moved around him and on the back of his neck there was a red cross tattooed. He had a long beard. Just then I looked up and saw a woman in the moon – a bayonet was piercing her heart from which a bright white fire was pouring forth. Then I felt a pain on my shoulder. My father told me to return to earth. I had gone far enough. If I went further I would not return.
THE VISION OF EMAN ELA (AGE 30; CLAN ESSAMENYANG; MARRIED WITH ONE WIFE)
When I ate eboka very quickly my grandfather came to me. First he had black skin. Then he returned and he had white skin. It was he that gave me my eboka name. My grandmother then appeared in the same way. Because my grandfather was dead before I was born he asked me if I knew how I recognized him. It was through eboka. He then seized me by the hand and we found ourselves embarked on a grand route. I didn’t have the sense of walking but just of floating along. We came to a table in that road. There we sat and my grandfather asked me all the reasons I had eaten eboka. He gave me others. Then my grandfather disappeared and suddenly a white spirit appeared before me. He grasped me by the arm and we floated along. Then we came to a crossroads. The road on which we were traveling was red. The other two routes were black and white. We passed over. Finally we arrived at a large house on a hill. It was built off one post. Within I found the wife of my mother’s father. She gave me my eboka name a second time and also gave me the talent to play the ngomi harp. We passed on and finally arrived after passing over more crossroads at a great desert.