Download PDF Revival of the Goddess (The Wise Book 2)

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I took many of the positions he presents in this book with a grain of salt, not due to weakness of argument but because of their speculative nature. I would recommend any of McKenna's books or audio lectures to psychonaut explorers, and to lovers of science fiction, or anyone looking to dissolve that pesky, semi-permeable ground of being that is all your pre-conceived convictions about the composition of reality. If you want a more rigorous and grounded read, I would recommend "Food of the Gods," by far his best work. In this one, however, McKenna is not playing with the other children inside the sandbox of sanctioned knowledge.

He absorbed those narrow boundaries long ago and has since moved outward to tickle the playground's weedy edges and take a peek past the chain link fence so that he may better understand what is there. Three stars because I just didn't enjoy it as much when compared to Food of the Gods, yet it wasn't as bad as some of his less-inspired books which were pretty bad.

Jun 11, Nick rated it really liked it Shelves: Im tempted to give this book 5 stars because it was just so entertaining. McKenna goes off the deep end in numerous parts, but he is also surprisingly lucid and rational when discussing seemingly bizarre subjects such as the "stoned ape" theory of evolution. The number of topics in this book is astounding, so anyone interested in scifi, fantasy, ethnobotany, travels in south america, aliens, Lovecraft, pantheism, , and a lot of others.

Even though McKenna was dead wrong about numerous things, Im tempted to give this book 5 stars because it was just so entertaining. Even though McKenna was dead wrong about numerous things, the way he writes is very precise and easy to understand. Unlike many "mystics" it is easy to see where he is wrong because he states his viewpoint clearly without a fog of mystical sounding "eastern" language.

This makes sense, as he is more of a Huxely psychonaut than a Tim Leary type. Anyway, hes right more often than he is wrong, and his approach is totally solid. After reading this book I actually have a decent amount of respect for the guy whereas before I kind of giggled at him. May 27, Preston Bryant rated it it was amazing. The only intellectual or noetic or spiritual path worth following is one that builds on personal experience. This man, in my view, is still the most important philosopher to have ever lived; he certainly changed my life.

I hope his motives for a new generation of seekers is met wit "What good is a theory of how the universe works if it's a series of tensor equations that, even when understood, come nowhere tangential to experience? I hope his motives for a new generation of seekers is met with an abundance of bravery. We need bravery and we need it now.

One of my other true mentors. Feb 24, Cameron rated it liked it. This collection of interviews, essays and articles contain the most entertaining expressions of the psychedelic audacity that originally inspired me to track down McKenna's writings. Whether or not his conjectures are meant to be taken literally misses the point of living inside his brain for a short time, which is a pleasure. Sep 10, Marjan rated it really liked it Shelves: I thought this would be more like his other books; a developed argument on the subject, but in fact it is a compilation of essays and interviews. Not just that, it is also a collection of his wildest ideas.

Although these things will not come as a surprise to anyone who is familiar with McKenna's work, it is good to have it on the shelf, since youtube videos don't fit there yet. Jul 28, Chris Feldman rated it it was ok. Another one from the crackpot shelf. Nov 17, Henrique Maia rated it liked it. This book is a compilation of interviews of Terence McKenna as he is being asked by different people about the plethora of ideas McKenna was known to joust for. As a transcription of said interviews, these lose quite bit by being rendered in text, since Mckenna was mostly a very good conversationalist — the spoken word was his most unique quality; the text presented here becomes much drier than any recording on the same topic.

Since this book is organized by interviews standing for chapters, even if the book lacks some overall coherence making it a bit harder to take it as a whole work, this also allows you to read it as what it is, a compilation, something to be read in many sits, not necessarily tying the whole reading together. Jan 09, Kenneth Moffitt rated it really liked it. The book was compulsively readable and activated my imagination with all kinds of theories about the nature of consciousness and psychedelics.

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Of course a lot of his own theories are probably way off, but his point which I agree with is that psilocybin mushrooms, DMT, etc have very interesting effects on the mind, many of which seem fantastical but all of which need additionally study. He thinks anything natural, plant or animal based, should not be illegal and that additional research could ill The book was compulsively readable and activated my imagination with all kinds of theories about the nature of consciousness and psychedelics.

Dec 13, Tom Weismantel rated it it was amazing. It's a book to read with a healthy amount of skepticism, as I'm sure Terence would agree, and even he himself seems to go back on forth of what he believes and feels, but I highly recommend this book nonetheless if you're interested in the historical religious background of ethnobotanicals and well as modern applications and a look to future applications of vegetable intelligence. In a society struggling to understand its highest aspirations and its place in the world and the universe, McKenna's remarks left me feeling hopeful for the future.

Nov 05, Mark rated it really liked it. Better than Food of the Gods. This is actually a collection of essays previously published in various magazines. Although he's wrong about some stuff, this collection is a pretty good source of the more esoteric topics McKenna has talked about. His speculation of the Voynich manuscript might be bogus, but some of his ideas are still good.

I think the main point is that everything is real.

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Anything you can imagine, anything that was a cartoon or whatever - is actual real. But we can't see or inte Better than Food of the Gods. But we can't see or interact with them as is. You don't need to know or see any of it to be enlightened. But, it just exists. The human mind seems to contain inherent virtual reality and a superquantum computer.

But a lot of people don't know the mind can inherently do this. You can use them to model projects. You can use computers to model fractals but the human mind can generate them with the aid of plants, and meditations. It serves its own purpose. It shouldn't get past a certain point. That's all that I could understand what it could mean at present. It seems to say something like that. Terence said we should be able to program the visual hallucinations soon. It could just be an imitation or similar to the actual thing. The simulation is A.

If we put the consciousness in the supercomputer it could be different. It also could probably mean nothing. It's the psychedelic experience. It just is what it is. There's some speculation that technology plays a role, but no one really knows what it is. Apr 29, Pineapple rated it it was amazing Shelves: There is a lot to learn from the past, of course, and the archaic has a lot to offer. Terence McKenna, although sometimes very long winded, but also very likeable, demonstrates the liberating power of the imagination and the potential for change with psychedelics.

It is good to keep the doors open. Dec 18, Ant rated it liked it. As a book that, beautifully jacketed in silver and adorned with an amazing sketch for every enticingly named chapter written by one of the most thought provoking speculators of the future of culture, promised much, I expected more.

For a subject so filled with psychedelic adventure, it got boring. Another hang up I had with the book was that due to much of it being the spontaneous spoken word of radio interviews, the ideas were at times not conveyed with the usual air tight logic that Terence would normally, magically deliver on such bizarre topics. I found him 'messing up', if only in small ways on subjects which should really be treated with the strict discipline which he himself always attempts to apply.

While this can be forgiven, it was not what I was expecting to be reading. There was a strange radical diversion of a chapter regarding the Voynich Manuscript. I spent the entire chapter waiting for the tie in to 'machine elves' or 'Visual language' but there was little if any relevance to the rest of the book.

And on the subject of machine elves; another let down of the book being not a single detailed description of a DMT experience, machine elves, self transforming language objects, or any psychedelic experience for that matter, only vague promises of what to hope to expect on a decent Ayahuasca trip, which never happened either. Having read two other of his books, both missing any description of a DMT 'voyage', I was hoping this would be the one, but the book turned out to be a tease.

I would not liked to have missed reading this book as it did fill in some gaps, though it is not a central book of his. For that I would reach for his experiential "True Hallucinations" or his deeply theoretical speculations of "The Invisible landscape". In any case, he was utterly wrong about the singularity of , no matter how you look at it, but I think he would have been the first to say it. Jul 28, Pieter-Jan Beyul rated it really liked it Shelves: Today we're privileged to see hours of Terence McKenna lectures online with a single mouse click. So most of the ideas covered in this book, which is an anthology of articles, essays, travelogues and interviews, won't be unfamiliar to the regular McKenna fan.

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But this book is still worth having on the shelf because next to being the greatest bards of the 20th century, McKenna is also a fantastic writer. As one of the few who dared to converse with the mushroom Logos, knowing how to handle the lin Today we're privileged to see hours of Terence McKenna lectures online with a single mouse click.

As one of the few who dared to converse with the mushroom Logos, knowing how to handle the linguistic is McKenna's expertise, next to botany. The latter is what made McKenna famous as well as notorious. Being the most vocal psychonaut and on the forefront of the psychedelic movement, he perhaps involuntarily insulated himself to a confined circle of acolytes, maybe having preached to the choir as psychedelics still meet deaf ears outside of a group of daredevils who take their minds to the furthest reaches.

This is why I consider McKenna to be one of the most underestimated philosophers of the 20th century. He has much more to offer than mere psychedelic movement activism. Being one of the few intellectuals out there who thoroughly experimented with altered states of consciousness, he gained access to the regions of mind and reality the rationalists of modern academia have completely missed. McKenna didn't merely extend and improve upon a certain intellectual tradition like f.

Marxists do and still do , but radically overturned all of that by listening to another agency. And even when he takes some points from McLuhan or Whitehead, what precedes all of McKenna's musings is the psychdelic experience. This makes him one of the most original philosophers and metaphysicians of the 20th and even preceding centuries.

And even if we haven't seen the unfolding of a techno-gnostic eschaton or an armada of time travellers from the future appear on that ominous date of december 21st , McKenna's other ideas are still relevant to this day. Jun 27, Anthony rated it really liked it. Very thought-provoking, fecund with wild ideas, some of which haven't aged that well like the world ending in It's impressive to read this book from the 80's and see how much freak-philosophy and fringe ideas are still basically just re-hashing quotes from Mckenna.

Of course half the ideas are total bananas and half are pure genius and the fun part is trying to sort out which is which. Some quotes I liked: The trick is to know that, so that one can contribute to it rather than being frozen by anxiety. Jun 09, Tristy rated it it was ok Shelves: As far as Terrence McKenna books go, this one is actually the easiest to read. His writing can be dense, but also filled with beautiful metaphors. I find it fascinating that someone who talked so much about "destroying the ego" through hallucinogens, also believed that all the "messages" he received while taking "heroic trips" were true for every single person on the planet.

Instead of paying attention to what he was bringing personally to his trips, he chose to remain OUTSIDE of himself to inte As far as Terrence McKenna books go, this one is actually the easiest to read. Ironically, he believed that if you closed your eyes while tripping, the message would be "pure" and "devoid of outside distractions" but he completely ignores his own inner psyche - including his own psychological baggage and YES, HIS EGO.

So in the end, it was difficult to wade through all his theories to get to the beauty. It's there - he has some real gems of thought and vision, but they are completely mired in fundamentalist demands that all people need to take hallucinations on a regular basis. I do wish that he had lived to see , since he was so obsessed with what the world would be like on that "fateful Mayan deadline. May 22, Stephen rated it liked it Shelves: McKenna was not even in my spectrum of existence until about a year ago when i happened to be suggested it when shopping on Half.

I read a blurb and boughta few books and immediately shelved them when they came in, because there is always too much to read. Now that said, I have sine found that McKenna has a fairly large underground following and that can get damn near religious. And it is all that and more. McKenna asserts that the world is ending and in truth I often believe this as well but I think it is more that everyone's personal lives are closing up, that this sesne is really just being his and my fear of death.

So I was lost and unfamiliar and uninterested in some of it, but he is a great thought provoker. May 10, Eric rated it really liked it. Terence McKenna was a genius of philosophy and science who had a knack for poetic realization. This is an early collection of essays, interviews and articles. I like the way it gives thought to a number of different issues and approaches some of the same thoughts from different angles. Admittedly, this creates a reprise of some analogies or trains of thought. Sometimes repetition is not a bad thing.

It also allows you to read and contemplate small servings of modern archaic philosophy, which I thi Terence McKenna was a genius of philosophy and science who had a knack for poetic realization. It also allows you to read and contemplate small servings of modern archaic philosophy, which I think is a good thing.

Anyone with an open mind will find themselves entertained on a challenging level or challenged on an entertaining level. My main complaint with the ideology of the book is actually, that it clings too much to the perceived authority of dogma in science.

I think this is due to the early nature of the writings. He would later claim that quantum mechanics are the only science that still looks respectable, with physics trying to maintain its dignity and sociology being shown the door. Terence McKenna was a poetic genius who had a knack for philosophic and scientific realization. I will seek out more of his written works but there is a vast sea of video documenting his insights on YouTube. Sep 04, William rated it did not like it. A member of America's Worst Generation tries to make a case for legalizing dangerous hallucinogens, and fails.

While I agree with many of his observations about history, I disagree with almost all of his views on the path we should take moving forward. He dismisses those who can achieve shamanistic results without the use of hallucinogens, revealing his own prejudice that drugs are the only way. And who knows, Let this be good, whether our angry Foe Can give it, or will ever?

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How he can Is doubtful; that he never will is sure. This Hell then seemed A refuge from those wounds. Or when we lay Chained on the burning lake? That sure was worse. What if all Her stores were opened, and this firmament Of Hell should spout her cataracts of fire, Impendent horrors, threatening hideous fall One day upon our heads; while we perhaps, Designing or exhorting glorious war, Caught in a fiery tempest, shall be hurled, Each on his rock transfixed, the sport and prey Or racking whirlwinds, or for ever sunk Under yon boiling ocean, wrapt in chains, There to converse with everlasting groans, Unrespited, unpitied, unreprieved, Ages of hopeless end?

This would be worse. War, therefore, open or concealed, alike My voice dissuades; for what can force or guile With him, or who deceive his mind, whose eye Views all things at one view? He from Heaven's height All these our motions vain sees and derides, Not more almighty to resist our might Than wise to frustrate all our plots and wiles. Shall we, then, live thus vile—the race of Heaven Thus trampled, thus expelled, to suffer here Chains and these torments? Better these than worse, By my advice; since fate inevitable Subdues us, and omnipotent decree, The Victor's will.

To suffer, as to do, Our strength is equal; nor the law unjust That so ordains. This was at first resolved, If we were wise, against so great a foe Contending, and so doubtful what might fall. I laugh when those who at the spear are bold And venturous, if that fail them, shrink, and fear What yet they know must follow—to endure Exile, or ignominy, or bonds, or pain, The sentence of their Conqueror.

This is now Our doom; which if we can sustain and bear, Our Supreme Foe in time may much remit His anger, and perhaps, thus far removed, Not mind us not offending, satisfied With what is punished; whence these raging fires Will slacken, if his breath stir not their flames.

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Him to unthrone we then May hope, when everlasting Fate shall yield To fickle Chance, and Chaos judge the strife. The former, vain to hope, argues as vain The latter; for what place can be for us Within Heaven's bound, unless Heaven's Lord supreme We overpower? Suppose he should relent And publish grace to all, on promise made Of new subjection; with what eyes could we Stand in his presence humble, and receive Strict laws imposed, to celebrate his throne With warbled hymns, and to his Godhead sing Forced hallelujahs, while he lordly sits Our envied sovereign, and his altar breathes Ambrosial odours and ambrosial flowers, Our servile offerings?

This must be our task In Heaven, this our delight. How wearisome Eternity so spent in worship paid To whom we hate! Let us not then pursue, By force impossible, by leave obtained Unacceptable, though in Heaven, our state Of splendid vassalage; but rather seek Our own good from ourselves, and from our own Live to ourselves, though in this vast recess, Free and to none accountable, preferring Hard liberty before the easy yoke Of servile pomp.

Our greatness will appear Then most conspicuous when great things of small, Useful of hurtful, prosperous of adverse, We can create, and in what place soe'er Thrive under evil, and work ease out of pain Through labour and endurance. This deep world Of darkness do we dread? How oft amidst Thick clouds and dark doth Heaven's all-ruling Sire Choose to reside, his glory unobscured, And with the majesty of darkness round Covers his throne, from whence deep thunders roar. Mustering their rage, and Heaven resembles Hell! As he our darkness, cannot we his light Imitate when we please?

This desert soil Wants not her hidden lustre, gems and gold; Nor want we skill or art from whence to raise Magnificence; and what can Heaven show more? Our torments also may, in length of time, Become our elements, these piercing fires As soft as now severe, our temper changed Into their temper; which must needs remove The sensible of pain. All things invite To peaceful counsels, and the settled state Of order, how in safety best we may Compose our present evils, with regard Of what we are and where, dismissing quite All thoughts of war. Ye have what I advise. Such applause was heard As Mammon ended, and his sentence pleased, Advising peace: Which when Beelzebub perceived—than whom, Satan except, none higher sat—with grave Aspect he rose, and in his rising seemed A pillar of state.

Deep on his front engraven Deliberation sat, and public care; And princely counsel in his face yet shone, Majestic, though in ruin. Sage he stood With Atlantean shoulders, fit to bear The weight of mightiest monarchies; his look Drew audience and attention still as night Or summer's noontide air, while thus he spake: For he, to be sure, In height or depth, still first and last will reign Sole king, and of his kingdom lose no part By our revolt, but over Hell extend His empire, and with iron sceptre rule Us here, as with his golden those in Heaven.

What sit we then projecting peace and war? Nor will occasion want, nor shall we need With dangerous expedition to invade Heaven, whose high walls fear no assault or siege, Or ambush from the Deep. What if we find Some easier enterprise? There is a place If ancient and prophetic fame in Heaven Err not —another World, the happy seat Of some new race, called Man, about this time To be created like to us, though less In power and excellence, but favoured more Of him who rules above; so was his will Pronounced among the Gods, and by an oath That shook Heaven's whole circumference confirmed.

Thither let us bend all our thoughts, to learn What creatures there inhabit, of what mould Or substance, how endued, and what their power And where their weakness: Though Heaven be shut, And Heaven's high Arbitrator sit secure In his own strength, this place may lie exposed, The utmost border of his kingdom, left To their defence who hold it: This would surpass Common revenge, and interrupt his joy In our confusion, and our joy upraise In his disturbance; when his darling sons, Hurled headlong to partake with us, shall curse Their frail original, and faded bliss— Faded so soon!

Advise if this be worth Attempting, or to sit in darkness here Hatching vain empires. But their spite still serves His glory to augment. The bold design Pleased highly those infernal States, and joy Sparkled in all their eyes: But, first, whom shall we send In search of this new World? What strength, what art, can then Suffice, or what evasion bear him safe, Through the strict senteries and stations thick Of Angels watching round?

Here he had need All circumspection: But all sat mute, Pondering the danger with deep thoughts; and each In other's countenance read his own dismay, Astonished. None among the choice and prime Of those Heaven-warring champions could be found So hardy as to proffer or accept, Alone, the dreadful voyage; till, at last, Satan, whom now transcendent glory raised Above his fellows, with monarchal pride Conscious of highest worth, unmoved thus spake: With reason hath deep silence and demur Seized us, though undismayed.

Long is the way And hard, that out of Hell leads up to light. Our prison strong, this huge convex of fire, Outrageous to devour, immures us round Ninefold; and gates of burning adamant, Barred over us, prohibit all egress. These passed, if any pass, the void profound Of unessential Night receives him next, Wide-gaping, and with utter loss of being Threatens him, plunged in that abortive gulf. If thence he scape, into whatever world, Or unknown region, what remains him less Than unknown dangers, and as hard escape? Wherefore do I assume These royalties, and not refuse to reign, Refusing to accept as great a share Of hazard as of honour, due alike To him who reigns, and so much to him due Of hazard more as he above the rest High honoured sits?

Go, therefore, mighty Powers, Terror of Heaven, though fallen; intend at home, While here shall be our home, what best may ease The present misery, and render Hell More tolerable; if there be cure or charm To respite, or deceive, or slack the pain Of this ill mansion: This enterprise None shall partake with me. But they Dreaded not more th' adventure than his voice Forbidding; and at once with him they rose.

Their rising all at once was as the sound Of thunder heard remote. Towards him they bend With awful reverence prone, and as a God Extol him equal to the Highest in Heaven. Thus they their doubtful consultations dark Ended, rejoicing in their matchless Chief: As, when from mountain-tops the dusky clouds Ascending, while the north wind sleeps, o'erspread Heaven's cheerful face, the louring element Scowls o'er the darkened landscape snow or shower, If chance the radiant sun, with farewell sweet, Extend his evening beam, the fields revive, The birds their notes renew, and bleating herds Attest their joy, that hill and valley rings.

O shame to men! Devil with devil damned Firm concord holds; men only disagree Of creatures rational, though under hope Of heavenly grace, and, God proclaiming peace, Yet live in hatred, enmity, and strife Among themselves, and levy cruel wars Wasting the earth, each other to destroy: As if which might induce us to accord Man had not hellish foes enow besides, That day and night for his destruction wait! The Stygian council thus dissolved; and forth In order came the grand infernal Peers: Midst came their mighty Paramount, and seemed Alone th' antagonist of Heaven, nor less Than Hell's dread Emperor, with pomp supreme, And god-like imitated state: Then of their session ended they bid cry With trumpet's regal sound the great result: Toward the four winds four speedy Cherubim Put to their mouths the sounding alchemy, By herald's voice explained; the hollow Abyss Heard far and wide, and all the host of Hell With deafening shout returned them loud acclaim.

Thence more at ease their minds, and somewhat raised By false presumptuous hope, the ranged Powers Disband; and, wandering, each his several way Pursues, as inclination or sad choice Leads him perplexed, where he may likeliest find Truce to his restless thoughts, and entertain The irksome hours, till his great Chief return.

Part on the plain, or in the air sublime, Upon the wing or in swift race contend, As at th' Olympian games or Pythian fields; Part curb their fiery steeds, or shun the goal With rapid wheels, or fronted brigades form: As when, to warn proud cities, war appears Waged in the troubled sky, and armies rush To battle in the clouds; before each van Prick forth the airy knights, and couch their spears, Till thickest legions close; with feats of arms From either end of heaven the welkin burns. Others, with vast Typhoean rage, more fell, Rend up both rocks and hills, and ride the air In whirlwind; Hell scarce holds the wild uproar: Others, more mild, Retreated in a silent valley, sing With notes angelical to many a harp Their own heroic deeds, and hapless fall By doom of battle, and complain that Fate Free Virtue should enthrall to Force or Chance.

Their song was partial; but the harmony What could it less when Spirits immortal sing? Suspended Hell, and took with ravishment The thronging audience. In discourse more sweet For Eloquence the Soul, Song charms the Sense Others apart sat on a hill retired, In thoughts more elevate, and reasoned high Of Providence, Foreknowledge, Will, and Fate— Fixed fate, free will, foreknowledge absolute, And found no end, in wandering mazes lost. Of good and evil much they argued then, Of happiness and final misery, Passion and apathy, and glory and shame: Far off from these, a slow and silent stream, Lethe, the river of oblivion, rolls Her watery labyrinth, whereof who drinks Forthwith his former state and being forgets— Forgets both joy and grief, pleasure and pain.

Beyond this flood a frozen continent Lies dark and wild, beat with perpetual storms Of whirlwind and dire hail, which on firm land Thaws not, but gathers heap, and ruin seems Of ancient pile; all else deep snow and ice, A gulf profound as that Serbonian bog Betwixt Damiata and Mount Casius old, Where armies whole have sunk: Thither, by harpy-footed Furies haled, At certain revolutions all the damned Are brought; and feel by turns the bitter change Of fierce extremes, extremes by change more fierce, From beds of raging fire to starve in ice Their soft ethereal warmth, and there to pine Immovable, infixed, and frozen round Periods of time,—thence hurried back to fire.

They ferry over this Lethean sound Both to and fro, their sorrow to augment, And wish and struggle, as they pass, to reach The tempting stream, with one small drop to lose In sweet forgetfulness all pain and woe, All in one moment, and so near the brink; But Fate withstands, and, to oppose th' attempt, Medusa with Gorgonian terror guards The ford, and of itself the water flies All taste of living wight, as once it fled The lip of Tantalus.

Thus roving on In confused march forlorn, th' adventurous bands, With shuddering horror pale, and eyes aghast, Viewed first their lamentable lot, and found No rest. Through many a dark and dreary vale They passed, and many a region dolorous, O'er many a frozen, many a fiery alp, Rocks, caves, lakes, fens, bogs, dens, and shades of death— A universe of death, which God by curse Created evil, for evil only good; Where all life dies, death lives, and Nature breeds, Perverse, all monstrous, all prodigious things, Abominable, inutterable, and worse Than fables yet have feigned or fear conceived, Gorgons, and Hydras, and Chimeras dire.

Meanwhile the Adversary of God and Man, Satan, with thoughts inflamed of highest design, Puts on swift wings, and toward the gates of Hell Explores his solitary flight: As when far off at sea a fleet descried Hangs in the clouds, by equinoctial winds Close sailing from Bengala, or the isles Of Ternate and Tidore, whence merchants bring Their spicy drugs; they on the trading flood, Through the wide Ethiopian to the Cape, Ply stemming nightly toward the pole:

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