A NEW CHEMICAL PHILOSOPHY
                       (for the Space Age)

                          INTRODUCTION
                         (and yet more)
                          INTROVERSION

The following story, in two different forms, were a Thesis in the
General Studies in the Humanities Program at the University of
Chicago.  The file labeled CHEMICAL contains the short, BA Thesis
version, which was read by Veeder and Wimsatt.  And for which I
graduated with Special Honors.  Veeder went so far as to compare
one of the initial fragments to Shakespeare.  This is the scene
where Day and Night are gambling for the fate of the Universe.

The short story form was written entirely under the influence of
marijuana, which I was using for medical purposes, ie, I had a bad
case of the dread mutant killer glaucoma, so-called because my
great-grandfather's eyes hemorrhaged and he bled to death.

Yeah, and all you snot-nosed DARE kids out there learning that "if
you smoke marijuana, you're a dope," nothing could be further from
the truth.  Besides, marijuana has been shown to protect brain
cells in Alzheimer's and stroke victims.  Certainly, what I was
doing should prove that dem God-made herb could have worked
symbiotically between medication and inspiration.

Although at this point I no longer smoke dope or use illegal drugs
of any kind, I certainly was never impeded by it or "a dope" by any
standard.  I earned the first A+ Wimsatt ever gave, for an essay
for his Seminar in Evolutionary Epistemology.  Actually, it was
only an A/A+ paper; most of it was my standard A work, but he noted
that it would've been a solid A+ if the whole thing was like the
two pages I wrote while sailing the darkened sea in a great big
submarine.  ("U-boat" is the new slang term for marijuana.  I think
it originated with Timothy Leary.  Who was the President of my Fan
Club while he was still alive.)

My explanation for why, as a paranoid manic-depressive, I could do
this well on marijuana in spite of being in a difficult school, is
that U-boat is mental medication.  It was used in mental hospitals
in the 19th Century, and must've made some difference, if they
continued to use it.

I feel that, as studies have proved that manic-depression is cross-
linked to glaucoma, the medical effect on the eye may affect
homologous systems in the brains of those with both problems. 
Specifically, there could be two complexes of pleiotropic (multi-
functioned) genes which would allow those homologies to arise. 
Besides, marijuana has an effect on norepinephrine, and its
agonist, epinephrine, is used in treating glaucoma.

My feeling is that if U-boat has any kind of effect on bipolar
disorder, it's that of an antidepressant.  I did better when I
started smoking it was because it brought me out of a chronic mild
depression.  Unfortunately, any antidepressant can in theory cause
paranoid mania, which was the effect of my pot pancakes.  This is
covered better in REALITY, which is hidden behind all the poems.

Legalize it, and I will advertise it!

The other CHEM files contain the extended MA Thesis version done
mainly for John Cawelti, who taught the science fiction course at
the University of Chicago.  He gave the extended version a lot more
of a "formula" approach.  After all, as a critic of popular
culture, he was concerned with how certain "archetypes," or
recurring symbols common to all cultures, are continually being
cast up in genre fiction.  This is basically an evolutionary
process, a process in its heuristics no different than any
evolutionary process, be it on the level of genes, mind, or
culture.

His conclusion was, "you've got enough deep symbolism to keep the
scholars busy for the next 100 years; now, work on polishing up the
surface."  However, he left on Sabbatical and never came back,
leaving me with the two original critics, Wimsatt and Veeder.  I
attempted to keep on doing the thing on dope, but was hospitalized
for paranoid mania, and had to finish the story there.

At this point, I have no idea how the story would've fared had I
finished it on dope as I originally intended.  On the con side, I
certainly know that I first started showing literary talent as a
student at the Invisible High (all my highs are invisible).  And
had written several brilliant papers without being torpedoed.

The stories stand as a tribute to the legend of a mind.

A mind raped by napalm fire, a sabotaged acid trip.  (More on this
in REALITY.)  With Vadisadism, the denizens of the coed Drug
Fraternity, Alfalfa High, dosed me up with vodka and LSD to get
revenge on me for writing suicide notes to girls who lived there. 
Had this never happened, I might have continued to write brilliant-
ly on dope; to write brilliantly, period.

And had I continued to smoke weed only in moderation, and not
thrown a quarter of an ounce in my breakfast pancakes while living
next door to Muhammad Ali, matters may have taken a highly
different turn.  Or even if I would've made it to the Kool and the
Gang show I'd been invited to with the guy, instead of checking
into the Hotel Gonzo, what followed might have been vastly
different.

The only thing I have left to say is, now that I'm under the
influence of some of the new antipsychotics, my writing is
improving to the point where I may be the next PKD, Farmer,
Zelazny, or Ellison, as was predicted for me.