Come, chill out… in a smoky solar yurt. Sit yourself down on the Moroccan floor rug with out-sized palm trees. Don’t you just dig those camels?
What’s THAT? i can see you thinking.
We call it the Crucible of Dreams. Once used in the preparation of opium pipes in China. An ancient artefact of vice! The crucible has other (more prosaic) duties; serving as a stand for the boiling of water to make sweet mint tea.
The receptacle is a goat’s horn – shorn accidentally by a neighbour’s tractor.
Shall we first light an incense stick. Citrus? i love it when the burning stick goes pale red at its tip. Incense, blood orange like that of the moon, coiling up into still air. i find the atmosphere’s slightly cloying. Do you mind its sweetness?
Strayleaf i want to impress upon you that this place is SAFE. The yurt secure from surveillance of every imaginable kind. (As imagined by Wally and Calculus.)
This is a Kommune rite that Josef A has outlawed. (Classed an arch vice, which only adds to our enjoyment! Prior to heating the bombs we kindle charcoal in the crucible. Now i am quarter filling the goat’s horn quarter with powder. Place in boiling water and the result is a delectable vapour and an explosion of unadulterated sensual pleasure.
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