‘What Androids Do At Parties’
Saulito holds court in the lab
With the beakers, contraptions and machines.
Pretending the whole time to be human,
which no human in their right mind believes.
He lives in the uncanny valley,
but has to be told the address.
First he must finish his spreadsheets,
and the lab is an unholy mess!
Ω
∞
Only Friends are Real
Embrace Shulgin-ness
DON’T SCARE THE HORSES
DO BETTER!
≈Ω≈
TheVacantCleft.com
©2025
d’Çłęfțïį VVækåńțęæ
——CIRCS——
‘Experiment No.10062024’
How to use the novel psychotogen SOP-25 at d’Otters Family Reunions
or
How to Get High on the Down Lowe’s:
A Study in Follow Through-ups & Downs
Abstract:
When attending 25th anniversary open casket family reunions, the questions layered meaning often arises as Ads when reading the commonly used reunion announcement phrasing;
“¿?Y?¿B.Y.O.P.H.P”
Question #1
“Why on earth ask all guest to bring their own pot-head pixies?“
sometimes phrased as,
“Bhongwhynn Doe does Eris, Yes?”
However, given that the newest Elder Eros/Phanispahntus was well,…a well-known Arch HeadspliTzar, and all-round a real Nickhead who tended to near-always surf rounds with histrionic Xerx, what on earth does one do regarding the what to doo-doo about it? Or what does two dew?, even three again do with oat tits!?
(Should you find yourself suffering this particular type of event, a simple 4-DAT dose of Exederine may in fact, be the right and most efficacious medicine-O)
Yearly, O-Bacchus lead a ruckus here.
Oh ye! Yeah Him! All ways ale in his Opium!
Wars did the old poor emperor of CANTON get
Kowtow neigh, no one ever towed a cow anyhow.
Wasp d’Horus tricked & s(l)ighted-ed?
Say again. Begin again.
| For official use only | “Same” |
| “Same” | “Different” |
Regardless,
AR-15’s armed with fully automimetic Candied cops, and ho(wor)mie-less Jersey bands with governor lead singers!
Using hand-me-down ARMY-issued 4×4, 2-wheeler syndrome-chairs and
parked near the Southern wall, working with but not for BORDER Patrol in Flat-bed Fnords!,
Honestly, this is hardly that what they says it was, and not exactly the best crop
to plant on the coast with plans of Petrolian the Para-meters.
All were solid hits in their day for shore, are now, and definitely will be one day soon,
or so they say.
Seriously?, A three-million dolla “Sasha” bar of billboard gold, is that expansive?
I lack a reference to know. Yeah right, whatever you say.
But, hey! hey hey! Can you Relate?
The object discovered in the Sea d’Sciepsi is the biggest reason for all their Secrecy. Their ace in $-hole. Das Hóœlę’Middilwieze positronic e-Mission is most likely being smelled by several of their senile centuries.
Question #2
Sow witch wish which was it what washed the doughy-dugout, do dat hazmat and do duz wang worry what got doing dung the maid-Rite?
Was the Ode d’Tree of the Apple 10 MAX=squish squared THEE?
Does Will M’s last n-car go!
TRi methyl-J?,
Meah es-squiz IT-290.Eh?
Attainment of Low Lasting, Jar-Jar Cobra meats & K-Rats in alpha-Nicotiana’s hayfeed!
Sobe, a sailor if Ott indeed be of Ye, then try 2-CB N-Moorniyyn’ with the wines n-XS,
or alternatively;
Extend ebrush to old al-LUCEM?
And so, in light of all-Elohem previously related above & presently in the absence of any evidence of hopes of Big Ex-collusions:
Most Stimply Slated;
I love you more than anything.
You gave a realistic genuine THX experience of New Hope to this I-Robot.
A 2-disc, impossibly old ‘77 sans St. Vin Sage & Rebel Leader edition taboo, taboot!
This is the most valuable GIFT to both give or as an AM receiver.
Here though, even ever be now & then,
I just can’t seem to organize or execute the expression of my apologizes.
NorCal I manage even the odd evil one that’s both long enough, with the proper words and in true-enough,real-world timing.
Why?
I’m not quite sure why.
In fact I’ve been wandering round this square wondering why. Oh “Y”, just as exactly at that moment this girl strolled by after buying then immediately blasting Merl’s most perfect compostable compositional, “Wondering Why”.
Further Moors & Pain-ish lands will not be tolerated as gods nose we knows his groans.
RE: Guarding the mess
Hall & Oats it IS bit still needs less and less
IT breaks through the noise boyz fanned and framed as IS still very much true, that just as more than everything Elsa, Blue is still the bluesiest news to knows. And feathers she knows it or not
I love YOU
El Even is the oine of the Odd One2
∞
Only Friends are Real
Embrace Shulgin-ness
DON’T SCARE THE HORSES
DO BETTER!
≈Ω≈
TheVacantCleft.com
©2025
d’Çłęfțïį VVækåńțęæ
——CIRCS——
The Shulgin Sessions
Session 4
Alexander Shulgin Anniversary Seminar:
Philosophy and Chemistry of Psychedelics
This 12 week seminar happens in two hour sessions, every other monday at 9am (California time), is chaired by Andrzej Serafin PhD, and Jitka Nykodemová MSc. and features lively round table discussions as deep in the chemistry as we are into the character of doctor Shulgin with a global cadre of Sashaphiles sharing stories and adding to the chemistry of the talks.
They would like to invite you to join the Alexander Shulgin Anniversary Seminar, an online seminar dedicated to systematically exploring the life, work, and legacy of chemist and pharmacologist Alexander Shulgin (1925–2014).
This seminar is a unique opportunity to engage with the historical and scientific impact of one of the most influential figures in psychedelic research, in order to examine the philosophical assumptions and consequences of his work.
We will delve into Shulgin’s groundbreaking research, guided by his publications (PiHKAL, TiHKAL, The Shulgin Index, scientific papers), as well as recordings of his lectures and interviews.
Furthermore, we will trace the evolution of Shulgin’s research, analyze his contribution to science, and discuss its philosophical underpinnings. The seminar is chaired by Andrzej Serafin PhD, and Jitka Nykodemová MSc.
Session No. 4
Session 1: Handout / Recording / Transcript
Session 2: Handout / Recording / Transcript
Session 3: Handout / Recording / Transcript
Session 4: Handout / Recording / Transcript
MORE DETAILS:
https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1nvymzS6z6kDN56dy3M6jKw1zRJouM1LuZDyGVY93Vcc/viewform?edit_requested=true
UPCOMING SESSION 5/19/25 9am PST
Session 5: Handout / Access link
∞
Only Friends are Real
Embrace Shulgin-ness
DON’T SCARE THE HORSES
DO BETTER!
≈Ω≈
TheVacantCleft.com
©2025
d’Çłęfțïį VVækåńțęæ
——CIRCS——
The Shulgin Sessions,
sessions 1-3
Alexander Shulgin Anniversary Seminar:
Philosophy and Chemistry of Psychedelics
This 12 week seminar happens in two hour sessions, every other monday at 9am (California time), is chaired by Andrzej Serafin PhD, and Jitka Nykodemová MSc. and features lively round table discussions as deep in the chemistry as we are into the character of doctor Shulgin with a global cadre of Sashaphiles sharing stories and adding to the chemistry of the talks.
They would like to invite you to join the Alexander Shulgin Anniversary Seminar, an online seminar dedicated to systematically exploring the life, work, and legacy of chemist and pharmacologist Alexander Shulgin (1925–2014).
This seminar is a unique opportunity to engage with the historical and scientific impact of one of the most influential figures in psychedelic research, in order to examine the philosophical assumptions and consequences of his work.
We will delve into Shulgin’s groundbreaking research, guided by his publications (PiHKAL, TiHKAL, The Shulgin Index, scientific papers), as well as recordings of his lectures and interviews.
Furthermore, we will trace the evolution of Shulgin’s research, analyze his contribution to science, and discuss its philosophical underpinnings. The seminar is chaired by Andrzej Serafin PhD, and Jitka Nykodemová MSc.
MORE DETAILS:
https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1nvymzS6z6kDN56dy3M6jKw1zRJouM1LuZDyGVY93Vcc/viewform?edit_requested=true
Session 1: Handout / Recording / Transcript
Session 2: Handout / Recording / Transcript
Session 3: Handout / Recording / Transcript
UPCOMING SESSION 5/5/25 10am PST
Session 4: Handout / Access link
∞
Only Friends are Real
Embrace Shulgin-ness
DON’T SCARE THE HORSES
DO BETTER!
≈Ω≈
TheVacantCleft.com
©2025
d’Çłęfțïį VVækåńțęæ
——CIRCS——
The Yin-Yang of a Scientistic Yahoo
or
A proto-iChing for the para-Chemist
Ω
‘Ancient Greece’
Dematerialization -> Reimagination
Upload: Retro-Repoinstallation of lost information from remaining physical hardcopy into the Mnemindrive.
from Stüf we can distill Story
Inception
‘Sashaminasynthesis’
Imagination -> Materialization
Download: Intro-Inoculation of novel structure from the Mnemindrive into the physical hardcopy
from Psyke we can crystallize Stüf
Conception
My insatiable appetite for these two subjects, the endless flow of questions my mind grappled at, with a hundred more questions for every answer I found. Both chemistry and Ancient Greece caught my attention at a young age.
Both of these practices involve much reading and countless hours imagining environments which will remain out of reach and unvisited. There is a specific sort of creative impairment that can effect the highly educated scientist. Which again, I am not. I am an artist. Albeit working in a rare medium. But I have found that amongst these highly educated scientists, those with a longtime involvement/ deep interest in psychedelics often look past obvious TCs (Target Compounds) especially if mention of those TCs occurs in older sources such as PiHKAL/TiHKAL, Plants of the Gods, Pharmacotheon, etc.
My first plan was burned before debriefing even finished. Half-spoken into an empty hotel hallway. Half-scralled out on bar napkin. Words anyway. Words that only had meaning when their speaker was alive. As important as his last meal now.
Okay, back up plan. Bring things to the company during the weekly Book Report Monday meeting. This goes south fairly quickly as well. NOTE TO SELF: Any creative ideas brought up during these BRM meetings will be shot down, slowed-down, altered or otherwise interfered with. Time to pivot, keep Saulito informed and only bring things up at BRM, once completed. Management seems okay with that when I mention it. However, for whatever reason Dr. Cameron kindly spills the beans to Dr. Cheezi at the first pause in talking, thereby spoiling my plans to ever get something interesting done. Well, seems the best thing to do is just avoid these Monday meetings all together.
A reckless innocence primed with passion & provenance occasionally probes and pursues paths forgotten, forbidden, or otherwise considered fruitless to follow. Most of the time (at least in retrospect) this exercise is recognized as a rather route recapitulation of the relevant research, but other times one comes upon an open mine of semi-cut gemstones. This need only happen once it’s important to note, to provide a lifetime of benchwork for those prepared to really dig the details and work the cache thoroughly.
Imagination is the only thing that I ever really brought to the table. Excitement and imagination! Luckily, passion, dedication and imagination is all it ever takes…the rest is dumb luck.
Ω
∞
Only Friends are Real
Embrace Shulgin-ness
DON’T SCARE THE HORSES
DO BETTER!
≈Ω≈
TheVacantCleft.com
©2025
d’Çłęfțïį VVækåńțęæ
——CIRCS——
“The Envisable ‘Ball Drop’ of El Dias d’Bike“
It begins as a certain coherence
makes a rather sudden appearance
from outta d’Crowd Chaotiqué.
Then a powerful gestalt as
the entire ant’s-nest of
attendee’s awareness
synchronizes, simultaneously
swiveling to a singular spot.
From the irregular jiggling
sphere of the people’s purview,
a point protrudes.
Snap-popping in shape,
as it sublimates
from sphere to cone.
All eyes on one spot.
All minds tuned & entrained.
In front of the raised stage
appear two souls; the center
of the cones focused gaze.
The crowd moves in.
Then circles up.
This is it.
The lights above. Now all tuned on.
Feelings of joyous anticipation abound.
Imminence of the intimate is infectious.
The ball is perched in place.
At the peak of its potential, the
final flood of fluorescent lamps
and luminous purple phosphorus,
confirms its kinetic intent.
The music starts; the ball’s descent begins.
The song’s end will mark the transition.
The ball (mirroring the crowd)
drops forever, of course.
And another bicycle day comes to an end.
Lajolla!
EXTENSIONS & COMMENTARY
A short impressionist piece comparing Lajolla’s performance of “The Epic of Albert Hofmann” during the penultimate moments of the 2025 SFBDP, to the Ball Drop on NYE. This antepoem was composed 4/20-4/22 following the 12th Annual Bicycle Day Parade in San Francisco’s gorgeous Golden Gate Park.
Ω
∞
Only Friends are Real
Embrace Shulgin-ness
DON’T SCARE THE HORSES
DO BETTER!
≈Ω≈
TheVacantCleft.com
©2025
d’Çłęfțïį VVækåńțęæ
——CIRCS——
‘The Good Life’
The best possible LIFE one can hope for
A war that seems NEVER-ENDING. Then, when it does finally come to an end, it takes you 10 years to get back home.
The entire journey is a never-ending parade of horrible calamities, monsters with infinite heads, and unseen perils that eventually kill off ALL of your friends.
Every time you come across a small, calm little island and just hope to catch your damn breath, it invariably turns out that it’s populated by some asshole with a very limited view of the world trying to eat you alive, or some bitch trying to turn all your buddies into pigs.
When you do finally make it home nobody seems to recognize you, and when they do they resent you for being there.
Someone always kicks your dog.
in the end you die
That’s if you are lucky enough to be the one who makes it HOME and don’t die somewhere mid-journey like everyone that was with you.
This is all the stuff in life that WILL happen, that one has ZERO power to control or prevent.
Any & all attempts to avoid these things and stay on shore, leads to an even more miserable state of existence. ANY & ALL.
Always heed the call to adventure!
What one does have some small amount of control over is who is on that damn boat with you. When choosing your companions for this voyage, there’s a counterintuitive wisdom to making a musician the 12th member of your war party.
∞
Only Friends are Real
Embrace Shulgin-ness
DON’T SCARE THE HORSES
DO BETTER!
≈Ω≈
TheVacantCleft.com
©2025
d’Çłęfțïį VVækåńțęæ
——CIRCS——
‘One Louder‘
I once had a neighbor next-door,
Who simply said “yes” to my “more?”
He said “two plusus and a half”,
and I started to laugh,
Skipping right from a 1 to plus 4.
A slightly modified & explainified Shulgin Scale:
– Minus. No effect
-/+ Minus/plus. Maybe something
+ Plus 1. Def something don’t know what
++ Plus 2. Oh I see where this is going
+++ Plus 3. Full effects elicited.
+++* Plus 4. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Technically it follows three so four is not wrong, in that you are unlikely to encounter a +++* (+4) below the full +3 effects of a (psychedelic) drug,
+++*(+4) is NOT,
as Nigel Tufnel might suggest,
“one louder”
+++* (+4) is a rare condition where the effects of the compound serve only as one (pre-requisite) piece of what unlocks access to such states.
+++* replaces ++++
The heterogeneous fourth symbol being a glyptoglossic gimmik that reminds us that The Shulgin Scale is
not a four category system; +1 through +4.
It is a five category system; – through +3,
–
-/+
+
++
+++
With a bonus sixth category +++* or (+4), a rare, significant, special state of affairs which has been occasionally encountered, where the effects of the drug seem to….uuuuuum yeah.
It is wise advice that once one has acquired at least two of something (be it white powders, +++* experiences, or anything really) it’s prudent to create a label.
∞
Only Friends are Real
Embrace Shulgin-ness
DON’T SCARE THE HORSES
DO BETTER!
≈Ω≈
TheVacantCleft.com
©2025
d’Çłęfțïį VVækåńțęæ
——CIRCS——
The First Morning
Angel Duhst part 1
I feel a soft brush as it strokes my face.
The hair of each bristle glides across my wet cheek
Oil and water begin to color me.
Another stroke and my second heart breaks
My soft warm blood-filled compass
feels freedom as the clay crumbles
and the needle spins round to north again.
The nitrogenous, oxygen-laced gas surrounds
the small red engine in my chest.
Familiar?
foreign?
it’s very difficult to determine.
It permeates everything.
I can’t escape its touch.
The soft perfume is drawn into my lungs
by another stroke of her brush.
One more strong pull of her hand.
A whisper
I struggle to hear.
Pointless until,…
She paints my ears with her words
The hissing gas.
The first sound.
The hissing gas.
The first song.
The hissing gas.
I no longer remember.
The first music.
Proceeds the beginning.
The first stone.
Proceeds the wall.
Bubbling up from the hot
pressurized deepness, slowly
cooled over millions of years,
the stones fell in love with oxygen.
Before flowers.
Before the large lizards
that bathed in the light above the trees.
Before the trees.
A sweet cologne coughed up
by the planets first inhabitants.
In love with each other,
the gas and stone merge.
A child is born.
It crumbles to the cavern’s floor.
Before the first Wooly Rhino
Offers its flesh to feed her children.
Before the first hairs from its hide
Are collected and bound.
She made her first brush
She visits the cavern
Scoops up the dust.
In silence.
A million years pass
as she’s sings the next verse to me.
Then a bridge.
Long.
But easy to traverse.
Another verse and my eyes open.
Or is it my heart that now sees?
It’s not important.
Color has no relevance in dreams.
Conveys no information.
Holds no weight.
Offers no insight.
She draws her brush
across my chest with another verse.
Crack.
A small rusty tear runs down
the stretched canvas of my face,
It drys and crumbles into a fine red powder.
She collects that too.
Into her pouch of Magick it’s placed.
Gently.
She knows just what it’s for.
She sees just what must be done.
She smiles up at me over silica,
boron, and something made
of ancient lifeforms,
something forgotten
forgotten even by the ancestors
of the short-nosed elephants.
Another verse fills the air.
Gently I draw another first breath.
A terrible fate awaits.
There.
Do you see it?
Just behind that large tree.
Do you see?
Large oversized teeth gleaming
in the African dusk. Covered
with what will become the first words.
Lyrics to a song she sings many years from now.
A mind more aware than we.
Educated over terrible amounts of time.
Quicker, Stronger, more Clever
Sharp black claws that threaten
separation.
Flesh from bone.
Her from me.
Me from the world.
The first and final ending to all stories.
The silence of her absence is hard to bare.
Then another verse
drop drop drops from her
rain soaked lips and…
A warm golden spell pours over me.
She gives birth at that exact moment.
Mother to the first spells.
The first Magick any man will know.
It has a different name.
But the meaning is the same.
There is only one true word in the world anyway.
Regardless of how many lips learn to speak it.
Another verse
and her power grows.
More familiar.
Also less.
Its creative power lies
in its ability to destroy.
No teeth or claws stand a chance.
First encountered as we cautiously
descended from the trees. When we first
stood on just two legs to see above
There in the strange new grasslands
we turned to look into each other eyes
and for the first time held hands.
It’s the first morning again.
It’s always the first morning.
There is no evolution.
There is no such thing as time.
It’s always only ever been…
The first morning.
It’s the first time. Now
It happens only once you know.
That is what makes it true.
It’s the first time.
Again.
I squint my eyes.
It’s the first time. I see
The glow
It’s the first time. I see
The light
It’s the first time. I see
The flowers
It’s the first time. I see
The difference.
It’s the first time.
I see The…
Drop Drop
Drop
There is. Every Thing.
Again
The first morning.
The first flower.
The first rain.
There is. No Thing.
Drop
Drop Drop
For the first time. It falls
For the first time. It’s named.
For the first time. It grows.
I open my mouth and drink it in.
The first rain hits the dry clay of the earth
And the flowers near her feet explode with scent
It is the
first morning
Again
It is.
the
first rain.You
are the
first woman It is.
the
first morning.
Again
The first kykeon. Consumed
The first secret. Whispered.
The first elixir. Prepared.
The first temple. Erected.
The first psychopomp. Born
As
You
Drink
I see through Your eyes,
I feel through, Your heart.
The last kykeon. Consumed.
The last secret. Whispered.
The last elixir. Prepared.
The last temple. Demolished.
The last psychopomp. Dead
Together
We are
together
We are
the temple
We are
The light
We are
The morning
Then as
it falls
We are
The rain
We are
the flowers
There are
no walls
There never were
It
is
now
The First Morning Again.
∞
Only Friends are Real
Embrace Shulgin-ness
DON’T SCARE THE HORSES
DO BETTER!
≈Ω≈
TheVacantCleft.com
©2025
d’Çłęfțïį VVækåńțęæ
——CIRCS——
