The Truth about Carlos Castaneda

I 'm doing a little internet search on Castaneda... again.

I do it once in a while. I used to be into his stuff a lot fifteen years ago, or maybe more. Well, of course at first I believed everything he wrote as a holy gospel, because I was only twelve when I first read his books and then, he was far, far out, man...! Back then, I was trying to find something on the out-of-body expriences I was having but all I could find was dumb stuff about how to charge your chackras or call your dead poodles' spirit, or hypnotise your mother in law to make her love you, whatever... I didn't want any of that stuff. All I wanted was to find out how to do the out-of-body when I wanted it, because it used to happen to me when I was a kid (as it happens to lots of people, as I 've come to know since then) but, like, uncontrollably and, besides, it stopped with puberty and I wanted it back.

But I have an imagination- I do, honest. I have a BIG imagination. No, bigger than that. It's really, really big. Sometimes it gets so big, it gets in the way of what's real or in any case acceptable as real, and what's not. I 'm not going to rant on reality now. What I mean to say is, imagine the scene. Here was I, bored to death with all the ancient, miserable, dull bullshit that passed for mysticism to the ahaha! inquiring minds hahahaha of the eighties and suddendly, pow! The world is made of filaments of conscious light...! There is a thing in the sky that looks like great outstretched wings and thunder and what it does is, it grows human beings to eat them...! And all that stuff about dreaming and seeing in any case... The guy blew my mind, no shit. Because, and that's the truth about Carlos Castaneda... he had an imagination too. I mean, the guy could clearly write about things nobody else did! And I was already begining to get bored with "unconventional" science-fiction and fantasy by that time too. Really, everything seemed fucking repetitive and my imagination was like, undernourished, you know?

So, now I see all those things people write about good old Carlitos, that he was a hoax, that he led a cult, that he made money out of his bullshit (oh, the horror... what, in America? Unheard of!) that he spun tales and shitted money and blah blah blah... And then, of course, there's the ones who still believe, poor them, who tell you stuff like "oh, but he was a Trickster, like, you know, Coyote" (who, Wiley. E?) and that all he did was in accordance with that old and powerful archetype and yadda yadda yadda, what a drag, really.

I mean, come on, let's get real. So you believe that if you eat a few dattura seeds you 'll become a powerful shaman and see the real face of the universe, right? And that, because you read it in a book. Well, hello. You 're a dumb ass. So what if Castaneda was one too, or if he was burnt out, or he wanted to make a buck and fuck a harem of chicks who followed and worshipped him? So did Jesus C. So did many other people and you can only accuse them of being smart buggers. And, wouldn't you want to know how the fuck he did it? 'Cause, man, one thing it isn't- easy! To do all the shit he did (and I do mean in the real world).

Yep, the real truth about C.C. was, he had a far out imagination. For me, as for most of the people who read his books, it didn't matter if what he wrote was true or not- and I don't mean that it didn't matter in our thoughts or our hearts or whatever you care about the things that matter with... I mean, it didn't make any difference in our lives, because what we got out of it (and since I, did, I know many others did too) was a good reading of crazy stuff that you could hardly find anyplace else. Not wisdom or secrets or power or anything, just, you know. Stories. Everything else is just sad bullshit from people who have no idea what the real world even looks like. And, sadly, not becaue their imagination is hiding it from them... but because their stupidity does...

There. You have your truth about Carlos Castaneda, by one of his greater students (hey, he taught me how to turn into a woman... honest...)