This book is not a load of horseshit, but it frustrated me just as though it was a load of horseshit.
There are brilliant insights in here. I especially like his inversion of immanence and transcendence, his idea of the Nth person in trip report writing, the term “chaosmosis,” his critique of the Huxleyian “reducing valve” metaphor, and all the random conceptual leaps he makes here and there in undeveloped but nonetheless brilliant asides.
But this book is not well written. It’s not kind to the reader, it’s not organized, it repeats itself and sometimes does so word for word within the same paragraph, and it’s opaque and obfuscatory in the worst academic way.
More frustratingly: Richard Doyle is a highly entertaining man when he speaks. Just look him up on Youtube.
I have this impression that Doyle intended it to be like this, maybe thinking that the reading itself could become a kind of “ecodelic” experience.
I’d rather just take mushrooms.