I gave three years to the Drug Garden and five to the Clayton
Foundation. Jim Bowman, the glass artist who got his knee fixed by artemisia,
had the Clayton bottle job but broke his leg and needed a few months temporary replacement. When he recovered he said I should just keep the job. I had met him at a Hyde Park
community sale where I traded a beautiful ten gallon peppermint for one of his charcoal
drawings which turned out to be a portrait of himself. I said looked like Shakespeare. But the post docs in this Clayton lab complained I ruined their experiments of pyruvate
dehydrogenase phosphatase because their beakers weren't clean! These post docs had a refrigerator so toxic with
radioactivity nobody would open it. One of them kept a rabbit in the
basement for
experiments but turned the cage against the wall away from the light.
Another wanted to impress Dr. Reed by saving
pennies so conceived of recycling thousands of little bottles that held
irradiated xylene used in their work, a very strong solvent. They mandated Aikido Bill Lee (3-4) have me do it. He opened a window twenty feet away
and said, open that when you pour the xylene down the drain and wash the
little bottles. I wondered in the next
days why my nose was bleeding at night. You'd have
thought they would have known. I filed a
workman's comp case and got a free bili-rubin liver
test. The recycling stop[ed. Thanks to this I had a front row
seat in one prevention of the pollution of Barton Creek. They
however
got a machine that washed the dishes at high temp and pressure
that I could load and forget instead of doing it by hand with soap and
water. I I continued in the work even as an adjunct English faculty later. My two years labor at 14 and 15 in the J. H.
Matthews and Co. washing letters off of tombstones, a steel foundry, qualified me for this experience!
Dr. Lester J. Reed, head of that lab, held a Christmas party each year for his post docs and visiting scientists. Aikido Bill decided I should get an invite. Over the objections of the post docs I was went to two of these. Once, around the punch I fell into talk with a Hungarian quantum chemist and quoted a flurry of Shakespeare sonnets at him. He didn't know I was the dishwasher. He said what Ilya Prigione said, poetry and physics are the same. But when Dr. Reed's son killed himself the parties ended for a while. I took him the largest aloe I had in a clay pot; it almost needed a dolly. A student of mine did this some previous year. M.K. Hage likewise went afoul with the herbs of death! I was boss Bill's budo in Aikido which I took then for a while, the one he throws around the room to demonstrate the throws. We were born the same day and year, which can lead to a pretty crosswise affection. However all this partying ended when I was presented with the news that I was to be a father. The English department and I had parted ways back in '74 on bad terms, so to get back in their graces I visited every member of the executive committee that summer of 1979 I could find to get a job as an Adjunct, which they were hiring by the droves. I kept the bottle job until Christmas. The Drug Garden got bull dozed. I got married! The train left the station.The way the mind went then, if you got a cutting it would grow. I discovered the Experimental Drug and Herb Garden by accident one spring after growing herbs in itinerant greenhouses some seasons. My relation with herbs began from their scent from glass jars with their tops off in the sun of casement windows in Chicago while visiting. They radiated the room with fragrance. Later I learned it was in my Mennonite ancestors and in the green minds of my mother and grandmother just waking. After conversations with the student assistant at the Drug Garden I learned the boss was Henry Burlage, dean emeritus of the College of Pharmacy and after despising the MLA job market for new Ph.Ds, I had loads of time, I visited him in his third floor office to gossip.
Close by I was washing dishes for the Clayton Foundation for Biochemical Research and its Aikido master. Dr. Burlage was little cantankerous, but more serious than I realized when he jawboned Dean Doluisio into an invite for me to restore the Garden that had fallen into disrepair since he, Dr. Albers with Dr. Franke and others interested had passed from the scene. But the Garden was born late and died early, lasted maybe 30 years altogether, 1950-1980. It occupied prime central Austin land. Five acres! But Dean Doluisio threw a bone to the old dean who had just finished Pharmacy's Foundation in Texas: A History of the College of Pharmacy, 1893–1976, so a part-time appointment was made up. When he asked how I knew these abstruse things I told him I had studied herbs with the masters of Tibet.
Life Herbs
I say all this to try to create some context for life plants, which are better apprehended than the more disputed death plants. You know, like hemlock? We go to the pharmacy of antibiotics instead of to the garden. The amazing, the wonderful, the new snake oil medicine has one flaw, just at the moment it saves you die. The package carries its antithesis. So while the inventions save they destroy. PR machines deny all knowledge of this counter indication. Medicine's moribund industry caused the entire world to be morbidly obese by food inside and environment outside. It thought so highly of itself, to live in the one last great super power and run a cell on the internet, s that the death herbs reigned.
Inebriate obesity licensed, they just could not locate funds to verify the folk wisdom of life such as the usual life herbs in the kitchen, or milfoil, the much preferred name of yarrow. How many drug gardens are left in the lower 48 in the sense of working gardens? At Texas they called it the University Drug Garden (Alcade, Feb 1965) and this article gives a good sense of it, but about 1980, there is no mention of it in the history because it was bulldozed for an archery range in trade for a new pharmacy building, proving herbs are still worth something with five acres. All the old faculty members interested were gone. Esther Wood Hall expressed an interest and of course Henry Burlage who had several of his own works on medicinal and native plants, but this was insufficient. They had had to hire a complete non pharmacy mate to run it, from the English Department! It fell in the crack between pharmacognosy, microbial transformation and new Bioprocessing Medicinal Gardens, themselves scratched for DNA hybrids, hatched of sudden plants, animals, oceans and forests just as they went under. At Rhode Island they call it Natural Products Research. [Compare Western Reserve University's Drug Garden.]
There are still botanical gardens, not quite the same thing, unless you count the Cannabis garden in the basement of the Cannabis College in Amsterdam. That have a following. Kim Keubel had a banisteropsis in our green house for a while. Renegade botanists had an S. divinorum in a botany greenhouse on campus.Texas land being so valuable it made perfect sense to change its use. Administrative guilt hid the fact, which Dean James T. Doluisio felt compelled in utero: "We have not been able to identify funds for next year or for your salary." This ground of the drug garden had seen 50 pickup loads of composted horse manure over two acres, countless hundreds of dump truck loads of leaves each fall of those years dumped by the university. These had been plowed in with a tractor so that the second a bean fell Jack went up. His stalk went high. Dill towered over Austin. Locals brought their own tractors and trucks and scraped the topsoil away for their churches and gardens. It was two feet deep in places.
The
ground may not seem important in an era that consumed all prairie and washed its topsoil to the Gulf. Some gardens yet exist as plant museums.
USDA has plots unheard of. Major chemical
companies have genetic gardens, especially in Hawaii, where they
splice the gene of a rabbit to a cucumber. It helps them hold still. My
neighbor's rabbits silfay
in the yard early morning, don't move when I walk the dogs past, their little rabbit statues. Food crops before Monsanto must be considered herbs of life, monocrops the foods of death, easily shown
by comparing this ear of corn from the supermarket product of the food
bubble, inflated with fake genes, injection of sugars and puffed out of
all recognition.
Shucked from the store, its kernels resembled the Indian
corn here, at first, but when the flesh dried if you ate the
Safeway corn your teeth would have had an operation, the kernels lost
half their size and what nutrition was left? The Indian corn dried as
full as it was when picked, like a grape, not a raisin, complete as when
it grew. We grind Indian corn for crepes. No Idaho Burbank potatoes or
hybrids, but blue corns and all rainbow corns and potatoes from First Mesa
and the Bolivia highlands.
Is
pumpkin an herb? Absolutely. It helps to see it however as the
Hokkaido, from the island of Japan. All foods are medicinal, or were
before altered, super starched and sugared.
Plotinus says that plants embody "the more rebellious and self-assertive part of the soul (Mackenna, Plotinus [Medici, 1917] 131). Death herbs, poppy, hemlock, datura, get all the press so why not say what life herbs are. Yarrow achillea, mugwort artemisia head the list with lippias, creosote, milkweed aesclepius and polymintha bushes. One is tempted to say these are salvias because they save, but they are from different families, a good sign for the peoples of the earth.
Death Herbs
Call the death plants poison plants. There is a long list. At the Drug Garden classic black hellebore, hen bane, digitalis, mandrake, belladonna, ricinus, datura. I have to get out the lists. They were grown practically in gravel in Austin, Texas. There was no hemlock because it loves the wet and can grow over your head with white disc blooms. It just looks edible. Tell that to Socrates as you tap his insensate groin. Feel anything here? That's how you know when you're getting somewhere with the death plants. You can't feel anything. Inebriates are in this class. Marijuana of course has led to thousands of innovative ad campaigns for casinos. Imaginative, fantastic, the big trouble with marijuana writing is no feeling. One is tempted to put the cow patty mushroom into the life class for the beautiful glow it puts on its devoted faces, like they had been making love, or worshiping God instead, or caught up in some other worldly event. The difference between the counterfeit and the true makes bi-polar experience common. What used to be the province of birth, life and death you can get in a jar. Is vegetable Viagra a life drug? You know the answer.
next, see Spiritual Herbs, Yarrow, Artmemsia, Aloe.
Dr. Lester J. Reed, head of that lab, held a Christmas party each year for his post docs and visiting scientists. Aikido Bill decided I should get an invite. Over the objections of the post docs I was went to two of these. Once, around the punch I fell into talk with a Hungarian quantum chemist and quoted a flurry of Shakespeare sonnets at him. He didn't know I was the dishwasher. He said what Ilya Prigione said, poetry and physics are the same. But when Dr. Reed's son killed himself the parties ended for a while. I took him the largest aloe I had in a clay pot; it almost needed a dolly. A student of mine did this some previous year. M.K. Hage likewise went afoul with the herbs of death! I was boss Bill's budo in Aikido which I took then for a while, the one he throws around the room to demonstrate the throws. We were born the same day and year, which can lead to a pretty crosswise affection. However all this partying ended when I was presented with the news that I was to be a father. The English department and I had parted ways back in '74 on bad terms, so to get back in their graces I visited every member of the executive committee that summer of 1979 I could find to get a job as an Adjunct, which they were hiring by the droves. I kept the bottle job until Christmas. The Drug Garden got bull dozed. I got married! The train left the station.The way the mind went then, if you got a cutting it would grow. I discovered the Experimental Drug and Herb Garden by accident one spring after growing herbs in itinerant greenhouses some seasons. My relation with herbs began from their scent from glass jars with their tops off in the sun of casement windows in Chicago while visiting. They radiated the room with fragrance. Later I learned it was in my Mennonite ancestors and in the green minds of my mother and grandmother just waking. After conversations with the student assistant at the Drug Garden I learned the boss was Henry Burlage, dean emeritus of the College of Pharmacy and after despising the MLA job market for new Ph.Ds, I had loads of time, I visited him in his third floor office to gossip.
Close by I was washing dishes for the Clayton Foundation for Biochemical Research and its Aikido master. Dr. Burlage was little cantankerous, but more serious than I realized when he jawboned Dean Doluisio into an invite for me to restore the Garden that had fallen into disrepair since he, Dr. Albers with Dr. Franke and others interested had passed from the scene. But the Garden was born late and died early, lasted maybe 30 years altogether, 1950-1980. It occupied prime central Austin land. Five acres! But Dean Doluisio threw a bone to the old dean who had just finished Pharmacy's Foundation in Texas: A History of the College of Pharmacy, 1893–1976, so a part-time appointment was made up. When he asked how I knew these abstruse things I told him I had studied herbs with the masters of Tibet.
Life Herbs
I say all this to try to create some context for life plants, which are better apprehended than the more disputed death plants. You know, like hemlock? We go to the pharmacy of antibiotics instead of to the garden. The amazing, the wonderful, the new snake oil medicine has one flaw, just at the moment it saves you die. The package carries its antithesis. So while the inventions save they destroy. PR machines deny all knowledge of this counter indication. Medicine's moribund industry caused the entire world to be morbidly obese by food inside and environment outside. It thought so highly of itself, to live in the one last great super power and run a cell on the internet, s that the death herbs reigned.
Inebriate obesity licensed, they just could not locate funds to verify the folk wisdom of life such as the usual life herbs in the kitchen, or milfoil, the much preferred name of yarrow. How many drug gardens are left in the lower 48 in the sense of working gardens? At Texas they called it the University Drug Garden (Alcade, Feb 1965) and this article gives a good sense of it, but about 1980, there is no mention of it in the history because it was bulldozed for an archery range in trade for a new pharmacy building, proving herbs are still worth something with five acres. All the old faculty members interested were gone. Esther Wood Hall expressed an interest and of course Henry Burlage who had several of his own works on medicinal and native plants, but this was insufficient. They had had to hire a complete non pharmacy mate to run it, from the English Department! It fell in the crack between pharmacognosy, microbial transformation and new Bioprocessing Medicinal Gardens, themselves scratched for DNA hybrids, hatched of sudden plants, animals, oceans and forests just as they went under. At Rhode Island they call it Natural Products Research. [Compare Western Reserve University's Drug Garden.]
There are still botanical gardens, not quite the same thing, unless you count the Cannabis garden in the basement of the Cannabis College in Amsterdam. That have a following. Kim Keubel had a banisteropsis in our green house for a while. Renegade botanists had an S. divinorum in a botany greenhouse on campus.Texas land being so valuable it made perfect sense to change its use. Administrative guilt hid the fact, which Dean James T. Doluisio felt compelled in utero: "We have not been able to identify funds for next year or for your salary." This ground of the drug garden had seen 50 pickup loads of composted horse manure over two acres, countless hundreds of dump truck loads of leaves each fall of those years dumped by the university. These had been plowed in with a tractor so that the second a bean fell Jack went up. His stalk went high. Dill towered over Austin. Locals brought their own tractors and trucks and scraped the topsoil away for their churches and gardens. It was two feet deep in places.
The
ground may not seem important in an era that consumed all prairie and washed its topsoil to the Gulf. Some gardens yet exist as plant museums.
USDA has plots unheard of. Major chemical
companies have genetic gardens, especially in Hawaii, where they
splice the gene of a rabbit to a cucumber. It helps them hold still. My
neighbor's rabbits silfay
in the yard early morning, don't move when I walk the dogs past, their little rabbit statues. Food crops before Monsanto must be considered herbs of life, monocrops the foods of death, easily shown
by comparing this ear of corn from the supermarket product of the food
bubble, inflated with fake genes, injection of sugars and puffed out of
all recognition.
Shucked from the store, its kernels resembled the Indian
corn here, at first, but when the flesh dried if you ate the
Safeway corn your teeth would have had an operation, the kernels lost
half their size and what nutrition was left? The Indian corn dried as
full as it was when picked, like a grape, not a raisin, complete as when
it grew. We grind Indian corn for crepes. No Idaho Burbank potatoes or
hybrids, but blue corns and all rainbow corns and potatoes from First Mesa
and the Bolivia highlands. |
| Hokkaidoes |
Death Herbs
Call the death plants poison plants. There is a long list. At the Drug Garden classic black hellebore, hen bane, digitalis, mandrake, belladonna, ricinus, datura. I have to get out the lists. They were grown practically in gravel in Austin, Texas. There was no hemlock because it loves the wet and can grow over your head with white disc blooms. It just looks edible. Tell that to Socrates as you tap his insensate groin. Feel anything here? That's how you know when you're getting somewhere with the death plants. You can't feel anything. Inebriates are in this class. Marijuana of course has led to thousands of innovative ad campaigns for casinos. Imaginative, fantastic, the big trouble with marijuana writing is no feeling. One is tempted to put the cow patty mushroom into the life class for the beautiful glow it puts on its devoted faces, like they had been making love, or worshiping God instead, or caught up in some other worldly event. The difference between the counterfeit and the true makes bi-polar experience common. What used to be the province of birth, life and death you can get in a jar. Is vegetable Viagra a life drug? You know the answer.next, see Spiritual Herbs, Yarrow, Artmemsia, Aloe.
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