Sunday, July 13, 2014

Amazon Tightrope Walk To The Edge of Tomorrow

I came to South America in 2010 on a vision quest, or maybe I should say, to go even more deeply into the ongoing vision quest that characterizes my sojourn on this planet. It first began in the 1950s in Tidewater Virginia, in the fields, orchards, woods, creeks, swamps and salt marshes in the lower Chesapeake Bay region. My brothers and I spent a lot of time playing in the woods and wetlands that were all around our family home. We frolicked in the shallow waters of the Warwick River, across from Mulberry Island, wearing tennis shoes to keep from slicing our feet on the oysters that were plentiful in those years.

The skipjacks still came right in near the shore in those days, so their crews could tong the oysters in the coastal shallows.

That wasn't too far from Oyster Point. The men's voices rang out across the water, bantering and joking as they worked. But I don't think that happens anymore. The last time I was back I saw that the skipjacks, the oysters and the men who tonged them, the fields and pastures, peach and apple orchards, woods, creeks, and a good many of the little swamps and marshes are gone, all effaced by time and the relentless march of so-called "progress" - - in other words the relentless march of bulldozers, chain saws, parking lots, boat marinas, strip malls, fast food joints, multiplex cinemas, and endless miles of cracker box, residential suburbs of stapled together, look-alike, middle class and lower middle class breeding hutches rented out by the decade on easy to afford, completely non-payable mortgages guaranteed to bankrupt the randy suckers who eagerly signed their lives, fortunes and prosperity away on the guttering bottom line.

Enter The Bone Lady

Be all that as it may, on a fresh spring day in 1958 my mother had put me and my older brother out on the screened, sun porch to play. The day and the events of that day are indelibly stamped on my memory as if forcibly impressed upon my brain with the ineluctable clunkity-chunk of an akashic archivist's mechanical stamper.

I was a sickly child in those days and at the time it was not altogether clear if I would live or die. One of the few foods that my system could tolerate was Cheerios, which I ate with relish, but only with a crochet hook, and only one at a time, the preferred method being to skewer the Cheerios individually, by poking the crochet hook through the hole in the middle. The hook kept the Cheerios from getting away, so once they were hooked you could reliably raise them to your mouth and eat them. My mother had thoughtfully supplied me with a bowl of Cheerios and a crochet hook to keep me occupied. My brother was playing with some little toys and I was sitting on the porch floor directly in front of him.

I somehow managed to tip the bowl of Cheerios over and they went rolling all over the place.

Botheration!

The logical thing to do would have been to simply scoop them up with my hands, but that would have entirely defeated the purpose of the crochet hook, so I dutifully set to work hooking the AWOL Cheerios, one by one, and returning them to the bowl.

I was engrossed in that task when my attention was suddenly drawn upwards, to the eaves of the house, and one of the most compelling personages or entities that I have ever encountered anytime, anywhere.

There, peering over the eaves at me, was The Bone Lady. I will never forget her. Tall, gaunt, bone-like, with a hypnotic, penetrating gaze that struck me to the core of my soul. I was only three years old but I knew right away that I was witness to a rare and compelling encounter. I looked over at my brother and tried to get him to look up to the eaves at The Bone Lady, but he was riveted to the floor, rooted where he sat, immobile, as if in a trance. He would not move or say anything. He was totally unresponsive. He was oblivious.

The visit was evidently meant only for me, and, oh, what a visit it was. The Bone Lady gazed deeply into me and I gazed deeply back. Information, feelings, information and visions cascaded into and through me. It was over in a couple of minutes, but when she went away, she did not leave me with nothing, because she had given me to understand that in the coming decades everything would change, that terrible times of great confusion and darkness, of deep trouble and turmoil, of death and destruction were on the way.

If you look around the world, you can objectively see that that is the case. Chernobyl, Fukushima, GMO food, nanothechnology, rampant chemical contamination of the environment, global ecological unraveling, habitat destruction, chemtrails, deforestation, regional wars here and there, overfishing, biological warfare (AIDS, Ebola, etc.) the exploitive, poverty producing, fiat-currency-based, central-bank-warfare model of economics, the ever-present threat of nuclear war, ever expanding surveillance, monitoring and social control of the global population, and much more, have demonstrated to my complete satisfaction that everything that The Bone Lady downloaded to me in 1958 is either true, coming true, or is potentially about to come true, and in spades.

At the same time, while The Bone Lady imparted that heavy message to me, she also left another, important, enduring, soul-level imprint on my consciousness. To wit: though all of this was so to speak, pre-baked into the cake, presumably for powerful karmic interests and galactic political reasons, that there is also a powerfully divine reality of tremendous peace, harmony, wisdom, joy and unimaginable consciousness and knowledge, not to say Cosmic Love of the Creator for the creation and the innumerable, created, conscious beings that populate the immensity of All That Is.

Well, those were an awfully big, cosmically insightful few minutes for such a sickly, little boy. But it was just about then that I began to get better and my parents and the doctors realized that I was probably going to survive my infancy. My mother said that she could tell something unusual had happened to me because I kept wandering around in the front yard, looking and pointing at the roof of the house and talking about The Bone Lady.

So it was that ever since 1958 I have had a very basic understanding of how things work: that there is terrible, unimaginable evil at work in this world and it consciously plots, schemes, plans, conspires and seriously intends to cause mayhem, death, destruction, oppression and suffering. Look around and you readily see this diabolical force at work on our planet. In terms of geopolitical centers of power where this force resides, places like Israel, Manhattan, NYC, Washington, DC, the City of London and Vatican City are some of the primary hell holes where this demoniac force is headquartered, though it also projects from numerous other locales around the planet.

I also understood that it is within the realm of possibility to transcend all of that planet-destroying, human-race-destroying darkness. That is because the creation ultimately stems from the Creator and if the Creator's creation desires to throw in with the Creator, to go all in, as it were, to consciously synchronize with the universal, creative harmonic of All That Is, then nothing can stand against that.

The issue today is that the great masses of humanity have not done that. If anything, a large percentage have elected to move in a contrary direction.

The planet is reeling as a consequence.

The Nuclear Threat of Global Extinction

I well remember as a young child  the worried conversations of my parents over the Cuban Missile Crisis. I knew it was bad. I was just a small boy, but I understood that the fate of the world hung in the balance.

The "duck and cover" drills we did in elementary school in the 1960s also drove the point home. The idea was that if we students would go out into the central hallway of the school building, kneel on the floor in long rows and put our hands over our little heads, that that would protect us from city-busting, Commie H-bombs.

But the explosion of a USSA Air Force Titan II ICBM in its silo, not far from Damascus, Arkansas really got my attention. The year was 1980 and I was working as a miner in Morton Salt's Weeks Island mine, down on the Louisiana Gulf Coast. I was twenty-five years old.

Not long after the missile exploded in its silo, I ended up driving to north-central Arkansas and going over the security fence onto another, nearby Titan II missile silo in a nonviolent, peace demonstration. I was arrested and jailed in Jacksonville, Arkansas, just north of Little Rock. I lost my union job at the Morton Salt mine and got an FBI record that clings for life like the adhesive "stickum" substance that athletes use to improve their grip.

I went on to conduct other, nonviolent, peace demonstrations at Air Force nuclear missile silos and Navy bases where nuclear weapons are either stored or deployed. I have consequently been arrested and/or jailed multiple times in Arkansas, Missouri, Georgia, Texas and North Dakota, and have therefore spent a total of more than a year and a half of my life in a dozen different jails and prisons in those states.

Most recently I was jailed for 100 days in North Dakota in 2010 for staging a nonviolent, peace demonstration on Minuteman III nuclear missile silo Hero-8, a few miles southwest of Parshall, North Dakota. That is on the Fort Berthold - Three Affiliated Tribes Reservation. The silo is but a very short distance from the intersection of 33rd Street and 76th Avenue. Don't be fooled, these are long, featureless gravel roads way out in the boonies. That's just the way they name the roads in the middle of rural nowhere in North Dakota.

It was a chilly morning on 15 April. I issued my Minot Manifesto to the press the same day. It is one of my most important writings, ever, and so few people even trouble themselves to read it. I have written a little about my preparation for that demonstration in my earlier post, The Very Real Danger of Nuclear Armageddon. I ended up being jailed for most of the time in Rugby, North Dakota in the Heart of America jail, so-called because Rugby is located at the geographical center of the North American continent. Not to say that it was a pleasant place, or that the social environment was congenial, but at one level it was as if the continent itself had clasped me to its bosom.

Not only is there an ongoing threat of a general nuclear war, an all out nuclear exchange, but the continuing crisis at Fukushima, Japan, and also Chernobyl, Ukraine, remains unresolved. There are several hundreds of nuclear reactors on this planet. The ones at Chernobyl and Fukushima have already melted down and/or exploded and the issue with all of the others is that they potentially can, too. In fact, there is every possibility that one or more of the others, perhaps even many of the others, will also melt down and/or explode, for any of a variety of reasons, including poor maintenance, sabotage or terrorism, natural disasters, societal collapse, war, etc. There are unknown thousands of tons of highly toxic nuclear waste that no one knows how to safely dispose of or store over the long term, i.e., tens or hundreds of thousands of years. 

As it happens, the Fukushima disaster alone may prove to be an extinction level event for much of the life in the Pacific Ocean region, and perhaps for the planet as a whole. It is ongoing and may worsen in coming years, perhaps greatly.

Probably not coincidentally the Fukushima crisis occurred just a few months after my decision to depart the USSA and look inward, within the hyper-conscious, living biosphere of the planet for powerful, inner-life direction.

The Lure of South America and the Amazon

Not long after my release from jail in North Dakota I traveled to Ecuador to pursue a shamanic vision quest that I had keenly anticipated and nevertheless put off for most of my adult life. I decided that if ever I were to do it, that 2010 was the time. So I bought a plane ticket to Quito and semi-unknowingly embarked on another phase of life.

Within days I was in the Upper Amazon, in Napo province, drinking ayahuasca for the first time.  I didn't know what to expect. I had read a lot of accounts written by others who had drunk ayahuasca, but it ended up being very different for me. I saw no anacondas or jaguars or aliens or visions of other planets or ancient Atlantis -- none of that.

Instead, what ayahuasca showed me was that the Earth and humanity are under a withering assault by a sort of thing that I have decided to call The Machine. While it is immensely conscious, and is tremendously self-aware, it possesses a peculiar sort of soulless consciousness, without a living spirit connection to the Divine, that I could see. I perceived its intent as thoroughly demonic, as a total repudiation of the noble, edifying, loving, vital. life nourishing aspect of Creation. It is relentless; it is without remorse, compassion or pity. It will not stop coming. It will use anyone or anything to achieve its goal, which appears to be total domination, subjugation, conquest and even total destruction of the Earth and humanity, if it comes to that.

It operates in the physical, 3-D realm and also in the astral or near astral realm. I perceive it as an artificial construct that does not have its own life essence, as it is not a natural life form with a hyper-dimensional DNA connection to divine levels of Creation. Instead, it siphons off the vital life energy of human beings for its own use, as an energy source, in a doomed, never-ending attempt to fill up the unfillable void it feels within itself. It is thoroughly vampiric and profoundly entropic. If I had to pinpoint a physical location for this Machine, one of the places I would look would be in vast caverns beneath the Moon's surface, or maybe inside of Iapetus, orbiting around Saturn. Please understand that the technology involved is very exotic, very powerful and subtle, Machiavellian beyond belief, cold and calculating, and operates in multiple dimensions with great sophistication -- in the astral realm, in the physical realm, in the emotional realm, in the social realm, etc.

It's hard to wrap your mind around this entity. It is like an alien, demonic, global vampire that knows how to push humanity's buttons to get the results it wants.

Someone or something  created The Machine. It occurs to me that it may be a very sophisticated weapon of war, with an extremely high level A.I. operating system. For all I know it goes planet hopping through solar system after solar system, with a default setting to mayhem, slaughter, death and destruction. We live in a big galaxy, and an even larger universe. It is naive to believe that all the beings and technologies out there are benevolent.

In my view, it is intimately tied up with the dark force behind the endless warring of the Pentagon, the global narcotics trade, human trafficking, exploitive, central-bank-warfare models of economics,  GMO technology, chemtrails, rampant deforestation, corporations like Monsanto, DuPont, Dow Chemical, General Electric, etc., agencies like the CIA, NSA, MI-6, Mossad, etc., nanotechnology, the pharmaceutical industry, nuclear technology in all of its most insidious manifestations, and much more.

It is malevolent beyond the power of words to describe. I have discussed this Machine in other blog posts, e.g.,  Ayahuasca Dreaming: The Machine Grinds On. One of my friends asked me to let her view The Machine and this is what she had to say about it:


Today I woke in the small hours and realized that you had made the experience available to me.  I understood something that my inexperience with power plants and the word "visions" had previously kept from me: that what occurs in visions is a direct, real encounter with the thing itself.

And you have done this many times. Your courage is remarkable.

The construct was covered with a translucent white membrane, which I realized was my protections. They are automatic but can be repealed. I lifted up the membrane and directly observed the construct.

It was frankly demonic. It calls to human beings to give in to the worst of their motives; the ultimate result is not satiation but destruction.


….. Believe me, this is a very different morning from any other that I have experienced. The hard demonic quality underlies the bright morning like the taste of brass. 

Deeper Into The Heart of The Amazon

I continued my exploration of reality with a growing sense of the enormity of the challenge facing those who hope to save the Earth's biosphere and at least a remnant of humanity. Through a volunteer tourist program I was directed to an Amazonian shaman with whom I ended up living the entire year of 2012.

I drank a fair amount of ayahuasca during that year, and also malicagua, another entheogen that grows widely in the Amazon region. I would caution one and all that malicagua, also known as angel's trumpet or Brugmansia, must be used very carefully. There are hundreds of different varieties and subvarieties, out of which perhaps five can be used for conscious exploration of the natural spirit world, and only under the careful guidance of an experienced, ethical, trustworthy shaman or shamaness.

I learned a great deal about Amazonian shamanism during 2012, both the good and also the very bad, including things that I could never have anticipated in my wildest imaginings. 

First the good part: Nature is vastly, consciously alive.The forest is filled with all kinds of spirits. Insect spirits, plant and tree spirits, animal spirits, spirits of light, wind spirits, bird spirits, reptile spirits and human spirits of various ethnicities and races, both male and female.

In other words, speaking as a man of western European ancestry, my personal observation is that the stories we are taught are myths or fairy tales are in actuality true!

There really are pixies, faeries, elves, leprechauns,  sprites, trolls, kobolds, gnomes, pucks, etc. Especially in the forest, but not only there, we are surrounded by a wide variety of spirits. We pass our lives immersed in a spiritual landscape that most people remain perfectly oblivious to, most of the time, and at their peril, if for no other reason than that when they die, and the physical body falls away, they find themselves suddenly plunged headlong into a multi-dimensional spiritual reality that they willfully denied and consciously avoided their entire lives. 

Perhaps my favorite spirits are the Tree People who came around multiple times. They are very gentle and radiate an aura of good natured, benevolent intent. I repeat that Nature is hyper-consciously aware and full of spiritual beings. The forest is awake and aware. That was brought home to me with powerful immediacy in the year I spent with the shaman. 

During that year I specifically asked ayahuasca one evening to show me the near future, which it did with a sobering directness. It showed me a frankly totalitarian dictatorship, replete with detention camps, military vehicles,  guard towers and security fences, and shimmering overhead in the air was a sort of quasi-physical-ephemeral net or grid that I was given to know telepathically was a mechanism for complete control of every aspect of human behavior, activity, thought, emotion and spiritual impulse. And all around I saw the wild forest, the forest primeval. This hell vision pertained to the human realm.

It was a grim scenario. I saw it as if watching it on a flat-panel computer monitor or television screen. I thought that perhaps ayahuasca had misunderstood my question, so I inwardly posed it again. About a minute later, precisely the same vision materialized once more before my inner view. 

I thought, "God help us."

And then in mid-2013 came the Edward Snowden revelations about the global NSA spying,  coupled with story after story of the federal agencies in the USSA buying up billions of rounds of hollow point sniper ammunition (the kind that will blow a hole the size of a dinner plate right through you), and then there is the rapidly increasing militarization of community policing all over the USSA, more than 2 million people in jail, and so it goes. I was born and reared in the USSA, about 75% of the readers of this blog live in the USSA, and the USSA still (at least as of today) exercises strong influence throughout the world -- economically, militarily, diplomatically, culturally, socially, etc., so for me, the readers of this blog, and for much of the rest of the world, the vision I was shown has considerable import; the more so, as its essential aspects are being put into play right before our eyes. An authoritarian or totalitarian system is rapidly being set into place.

And overall most of the people are acquiescing. 

That's a big problem. The people are cooperating with tyranny. They are in "go along to get along" mode and it will be their complete undoing. 

As I said, there are numerous varieties of malicagua in tropical South America and a lot of them can hurt you very badly. One of the poisonous varieties was growing right in front of my hut. I knew that because the shaman pointed it out to me more than once and told me not to touch it. So I left it alone.

The Dark Side of Amazonian Shamanism

Then everything changed. The morning of 29 December 2012 I went with the shaman into the little woods beside his place to drink malicagua. Because of what subsequently transpired  I will not describe now, and maybe never, everything that happened that day. Suffice it to say that the actions of the shaman that day and the following night hurt me so badly that I very nearly died. He almost killed me. I ended up spending more than four months in the public hospitals in Ecuador. I cannot tell you the agonizing depths of the pain in the first several weeks. It was off the chart. The pain killers the doctors gave me didn't touch it.  My case flummoxed the medical experts and so finally they discharged me, after months of testing and probing me, inside and out, up, down and sideways. The day of my hospital discharge, I barely made it across the small hospital parking lot with the aid of a battered aluminum walker, and could go no farther. I hailed a cab to take me to a low priced boarding house.

More than  a year later I am still recuperating, slowly getting a little better, month by month. It has been a long, slow, painful process.

Looking back on what happened that day, I noticed when I finally made it back to my little hut, literally half-dead, that the fatally poisonous variety of malicagua in front of my hut that the shaman had warned me about was conspicuously gone. It wasn't there anymore. In light of the near-fatal abuse I suffered that day and night, I have since wondered if he perhaps gave me that normally fatal variety of malicagua to drink that morning. I can't say for sure. All I know is that I came close to death that day and night. It was a near thing, a real close call.

Which brings me around to the main point of this section of the post: there are some real dark characters involved in Amazonian shamanism and it is not always easy to identify them. In my case, I came to that shaman through an Ecuadorian volunteer and tourism web site. Many people came and went during the year I stayed with the shaman. The shaman was a  bit unconventional, but I never saw him do to anyone what he did to me. 

On the contrary. 

And then things took a very dark turn, with me as the direct target.

In the interim, I have learned by a variety of means that the problem of rogue shamans, brujos, sorcerers and indigenous criminal predators, jungle riffraff, call them what you will, is a very real issue in the Amazon region. Governments recognize it, the indigenous communities recognize it and still it goes on.

I thought I was avoiding all of that by going to a shaman who was recommended by a tourism and volunteer business, and who had a regular stream of tourists and spiritual seekers coming to him and his place.

People get killed by so-called "shamans" every year in Ecuador, Colombia, Peru, Brazil. A real shaman or shamaness, who has your best interests at heart, who is skilled with the plants of the jungle, who knows the human body and spirit, who is able to guide you physically, emotionally and spiritually as you delve into ayahuasca or the other plants of the region such as San Pedro or malicagua, is a real rare breed. They exist, but they are rare. 

How do you find them? Luck, good karma, knowing the right people, which could mean  living in the region for years and really getting to know the culture and the people at a deeper level.

And then there is the idea that "98% of people shouldn't even drink ayahasca" as one of my South American oracles has advised me. "They can't handle it. They can't handle what it shows them. They flip out." 

I've seen people fly in on their South American vacation. For them, South America is like a tropical theme park with mountains, jungle, sea shore. It's on their bucket list. They fly to the Galapagos. They photograph the tortoises. They go to Cali to dance in the salsa clubs. They visit Machu Picchu to photograph the Inca ruins. Then they travel into the Amazon to drink ayahuasca. There is no particular depth to what they are doing. It's all on a par with taking photos at Mach Picchu or dancing in a nightclub in Cali. Then they fly back to Soho or Madison or Chicago or Boston. 

Been there, done that, they say. It's so superficial. And the "shamans" are there to accommodate them, or maybe kill them. And every year some do get killed; others get badly injured or nearly killed, as I was.

And this from a shaman with whom I lived an entire year, and with whom I had drunk the shamanic plants many times. 

The Criminal Case

There are many things I can and do shrug off, ignore, let go, forget about or even forgive. Being almost killed is a different matter altogether. There was never an apology from the shaman to me for causing my near death; moreover, both during and after the events of that day and night there was never any hint of remorse. And there were other factors surrounding those events that made plain to me that the man needs to be stopped and that I am the one to do it.

So I filed a criminal complaint against him. Everything that I have learned since has ratified my decision to do that. The case has made its way through the system and there will probably be a trial soon. He has been indicted, and the court will soon make a decision as to whether and when to take the case to trial. If he is tried and convicted he could potentially serve many years in jail. Causing great bodily harm is a serious matter.

The process has drug out for more than a year and a half, and has cost me thousands of dollars to pay attorneys, and also medical and rehabilitation fees. It has been a devastating experience, not at all what I anticipated.

However, I regard it as important to stand up and struggle for justice under very difficult circumstances.

The reality is that this is how it is going to be, if we are to get our planet back. There are violent rogues at every level of the world system, from Washington, DC to the Middle East to the Amazon and every point in between. We do not get our planet back unless we deal with them. That's just the way it is.

If you think you can do that by just browsing your favorite Internet sites or sitting in your living room drinking beer and watching news clips from Gaza or Ukraine on TV, think again.

We are in a down and dirty, life and death struggle for the destiny of humankind and the planet itself. 

To flourish on this planet we have to get to a much deeper level of understanding. We're skating on the surface now, just splashing in the shallows.

Shamanism, a mature, spiritually deep shamanism, is one of the greatest tools we have to reestablish a hyper-conscious, harmonious, cooperative, collaborative, working and living relationship with the Earth, and with all of the myriad biological, geological, crystalline, electrical, etheric, plasmoid and spiritual life forms on the Earth.

But if the shamanistic conduit is all clogged up with all manner of sorcerers, brujos and criminal predators laying in wait to bushwhack seekers after deeper communion with Nature, then that is a serious issue that needs to be resolved.  Someone has to clear the way. We absolutely must reestablish a clear channel of hyper-conscious communication with Nature.

So at great personal expense of time, effort, money, and pain I am doing my best to put a dangerous shaman behind bars. He's not the only one, but you start where you can, and you go from there. 

The Political Refuge Issue

At the same time, I am seeking political refuge in Ecuador. 

Beyond the fact that I do not know if there was possibly a hidden (maybe CIA or USSA military?)  hand in the ugly events that befell me, the USSA has changed greatly in the time I have been in Ecuador. The month after I was discharged from the hospital, Edward Snowden's NSA revelations came to light. Now we know that everyone is under surveillance. 

You are. I certainly am.

Also within the last couple of years, the NDAA has been implemented, which allows for secret arrest and imprisonment by the USSA military of anyone, anywhere, without charge or trial. The NDAA even permits the outright killing of those whom the executive branch of the USSA government determines to be a threat, whatever the secret criteria are. There is no way to know if you are on the list, right up until the time you are grabbed off the street by guys with guns who put a hood over your head and take you away to some secret, USSA military dungeon. Or maybe a Pentagon hit man just walks up to you on the street and calmly pumps a few bullets into you, turns the corner, hails a cab and rides away, while you bleed out on the sidewalk. It's made to seem like random street crime.

That's the way that the NDAA works. It is now the law. I therefore presume that it is in operation.

Those factors, given my history of anti-nuclear activism and multiple arrests and stints in many different jails and prisons; along with my writing and research about black budget operations pertaining especially to clandestine underground and undersea bases and tunnels; as well as this blog, in which I take all kinds of unconventional positions on a wide variety of issues; have all brought me to the point where I feel it wiser to remain in South America, and specifically in Ecuador. No doubt my penetrating foray into shamanism and the hyper-dimensionally vibrant world of the Amazon have also brought me to the notice of those who would prefer the resident human population to be deaf, dumb, blind and thoroughly docile.

My political refuge petition is accordingly into its second year. Slowly, a number of supporters have  elected to provide written backing, and even institutional support, for my political refuge in Ecuador.

They include: 




I am seeking more quality supporters. If you are able to help me please contact me.

Can You Please Help Me?


As I mentioned above, after more than a year and a half of intense struggle, the shaman who assaulted me has been indicted and has now been arraigned. There will be a trial hearing in a few weeks.

I have been pushed to the wall by this ordeal, to my financial limits and beyond. The case is actually bigger than me, in that there certainly are many other victims of shamanic abuse in the Amazon region. I absolutely am not the only victim. Indeed, I have already heard from another victim of the same shaman who has nevertheless declined to pursue justice or even to support me in my case in any way. But unlike him and many others, I have elected to stand up and fight back, no matter the odds. And against all expectations, my assailant has been indicted and is going to trial. But the battle is not over.

I have no illusions about what I am up against. I was almost killed.

What happens in the Amazon is vitally important to what happens on this planet, for crucial reasons of oxygen production alone. The shamans of the region theoretically have an essential role to play in healing the Amazon and showing the way for humanity to deeply bond with the natural world -- but not if they themselves are abusive to the very people who come to the region to consult the sacred power plants in search of hyper-conscious communion with Mother Nature. 

I urgently need your assistance to help pay my legal counsel. I need to prevail in this case to continue my work on this vital, southern continent and to put an end to at least some of the harm that is occurring in South American shamanism. It matters. I know that some of you are more than able to assist me. 

For USA dollar contributions please e-mail me at:  dr.samizdat1618@gmail.com  and I will tell you how to send a donation. 

I also gratefully accept donations of the following crypto-currencies at these addresses:

Bitcoin 
1Dht92qEzCmvuLRKQD2MSJ1JdQ7rFRMVdA 

Litecoin 
LdE6rp3EpUurK5rdHaKbM3UGumchHZP97u