(My Communion with the Spore and) the Madness Called ComiCon


I made plans to venture on a relationship of a different sort for St. Valentines Day this year; a relationship with some magic mushrooms to dig into my psyche and knock me on my fucking thick noggin-remind me who I am. As each year (month?…day?..) brings me closer to the grave, I try to take the plunge at least once a year and ingest some of these marvelous little things. Call it my own personal little Communion. Kismet of the moment for me was, St. Valentines Day and my scoring some spores and Wizard ComiCon would all coincide this year; I recognized the moment of opportunity and grabbed it.
ComiCon is one of those events that everyone should experience at least once in their lifetime-like Vegas. I am an avid fan of these conventions because they open up a world of fantasy amid a backdrop of corporate prostitution which smacks of myriad emotions-a plethora of clarity about our society all wrapped up in a tiny little microcosm of costumes and cheap merchandise. I found out that my brother would be doing a photo assignment for Nuvo magazine of Indianapolis down at the convention center which added even more interest to the whole affair.
The time came to set everything in motion. I started off the ritual by steeping the mushrooms in a tea mixture. I always find this a preferred method because eating those nasty things can lead to a number of minor irritations; mouth sores or inflamed taste buds and you become more prone to throwing up. A nice tea is the best way to do mushrooms. I drank the tea and tried to gauge the amount of time before everything would kick in because my plans were to walk down to the convention center, which was a good 5 to 6 mile jaunt. I figured all that activity would certainly work the mushrooms into my system and give me a nice scenic tour along the way. I had about a half hour before I planned to leave on my junket and felt a bit tired. I thought if I just laid my head down for a bit and caught a quick cat nap I’d be in a better frame of mind to catch ComiCon. I had been out late drinking the night before so perhaps my body was telling me to give it a small breather. You have to be careful with mushrooms though. You can sleep right through the experience and just have vivid dreams if you’re not careful. I did not want to fall asleep and miss ComiCon, what a waste of drugs that would be. I set an alarm on my phone just to be safe and closed my eyes.
Two minutes later they kicked in.
I was caught off guard and did not expect them to take that fast. (Once I checked my clock) I saw that the allotted amount of time had passed for the active chemicals the mushrooms bring to take effect in my body had passed. Time to get up and start the dance. I packed my goods and dressed in layers because it was cold as the Bering Sea out there. The weather people could not have predicted a worse day for walking but I was convinced that the mushrooms would drive me through come hell or high water to make it safe and in one piece to ComiCon. The journey would be part of the experience, I told myself and with that, hit the fucking bricks.
About half a block from my house I was blasted with arctic winds that froze my nipples solid and the jitters brought on by the shrooms didn’t help. I am blessed to have such great friends in times like this and called upon one such friend to cart me over to the convention center. I’m convinced I could have made it but would probably have suffered some thermal issues or frostbite, something nasty I’m sure. I would have been oblivious to the damage until I came down off the mushrooms and then would have discovered a thumb that no longer worked properly or something. My friend had expressed a weak interest in coming down to the event with me but balked at the steep price to get inside the Con. Most times when I attend these events I will merely stick to the corridors outside the main event to gaze over all the cosplayers (costumed players-people who dress in attire depicting a super hero, comic character, game character, etc.) and avoid the high price. This time, however, part of the whole soulful experience had to include delving into the thing full Monty. I had to pay the price and take the ride.
My friend bowed out but was nice enough to drop me off at the steps of the convention center. The mushrooms were kicking in really heavy at this point and I prepared myself for the obscene delight of fantasy and bright lights they call Wizard ComiCon (contd.)


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