marcar72
Member
Here's a pretty funny anecdote from Captain Trips himself. Enjoy!!
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Verry garCIA
Verry garCIA
Amazing how many spooks hid in plain sight in those days. What better way to cover for LSD social engineering as per MK-Ultra and related psychological programs than to be the premier symbol of the so-called counter-culture through seemingly-innocuous jam-band music.
Up next, in this Grateful Dead marathon on Jerry Garcia's birthday!!...
Why not post Candyman to celebrate pedophilia and drugging young girls. In the spirit of Escapestein’s death!
Sounds like you all got it figured out, guy!! Have a cigar!!... hahahahaha!!
How psychedelic drugs are used as a tool of state violence You may enjoy this Salon article.
looks like the acid melted more than just your brain. Not sure in what world the Grateful Dead would be considered enlightening. Maybe to a hillbilly?You're fishing. Nice try, though!! You only wish some young schoolboy would come calling unto you!! hahahahaha!!!
“For a long time I dragged my feet over total commitment (to the Grateful Dead),” he told me in an interview I did with him in 1989. “For a while, I thought the Grateful Dead might be a CIA plot. For a long time I vacillated.” - Jerry Garcia
Thanks!
I had never heard that quote before, but certainly leave it to Jerry for giving us the proper insight that he well understood what the score was...certainly lyrics like "hauling items for the mob" from the song West LA Fadaway or as he pleads in a version of Big Boss Man from 81 "....you won't let Jerry stop...big boss man, can't you hear me when I call"
The context here of this forum might well be Monday night quarterbacking as regards his healing in the midst of what was a harrowing rapid decline into the mid eighties blob period where in my estimation the clip from 1981 was basically the time he needed a long rest, but rest for Jerry when not trucking was to play in his own eponymous band, which were in some ways the real treat...
Yes Dead shows became rolling DEA sting operations to which a very sordid concoction of hedonism was yearly getting more and more insane and deadly, seeing folks age as fast as Jerry on the Persian subway to hell....but hell where else could one find some LSD, and glimmers of a vision of reality outside of those forces turning fields to parking lots, the commodification that then became the very commodification that was the dead end trap around the dead, but there was something that went beyond, as some continuation of Whitman's poetry and of Blake, and of that which sought to unleash the very energy of lightning and thunder if in some dance indeed a plaintiff voice would ring as here in the middle of the 1980's, this sort of harsh reality of Morning Dew, the song about a post nuclear annihilation to which high volume music is in essence a certain annihilation of sorts and then there is that, in contrast, that a drop of dew in a field in the morning, the subtle colors, the heart wrenching connection to what is real amidst as the cavern of a hockey rink.... a full on monster rendition in the electric universe of Bonnie Dobson's classic from the raw perspective of the appreciative audience...
Or wait —-
even better!!!!
Good morning little schoolgirl, can I come home with you?
Tell your mama and your papa I'm a little schoolboy too
Come on now pretty baby I just can't help myself
You're so young and pretty I don't need nobody else
Nice pervert promoting tunes you got there