Of Poppies, Philosophy and Mystical Woo: for Daniel S. Hummel II

In his 2-star Amazon review of The Power of the Poppy, Daniel S. Hummel II complained that "it's loaded with way too much mystical woo and pseudo-science for [his] tastes." He further advised that I should have done more research and "better acquainted [myself] with reality before writing a book." (I'm not sure how this would have helped, since he also believes "writing and thinking are probably not [my] best qualities.")

To be or not to be?

I can't blame Mr. Hummel for being disappointed. Looking at some of his other reviews, he appears to be a diehard atheist who finds mysticism useless. A book which treats plants as sentient beings with their own agendas is likely to leave him cold.  He gave me credit for including "a few morsels of good info" so his critique was fair if harsh.  (I'm glad he didn't find Power of the Poppy a complete waste of time and wish him luck in finding a book more suited to his needs).  And while he obviously missed my point, it's my job to make my ideas clear. Perhaps I can do so by reference to one of the 20th century's most opaque thinkers, Martin Heidegger.

Heidegger is often dismissed (or celebrated) as a Luddite. As Hubert Dreyfus points out, his views on technology and science are considerably more nuanced.  In his 1954 essay "The Question Concerning Technology" Heidegger described technology as a "mode of revealing," a way of understanding and interacting with our world. He illuminates this in a famous passage:

The hydroelectric plant is set into the current of the Rhine. It sets the Rhine to supplying its hydraulic pressure, which then sets the turbines turning. This turning sets those machines in motion whose thrust sets going the electric current for which the long-distance power station and its network of cables are set up to dispatch electricity. In the context of the interlocking processes pertaining to the orderly disposition of electrical energy, even the Rhine itself appears as something at our command. The hydroelectric plant is not built into the Rhine River as was the old wooden bridge that joined bank with bank for hundreds of years. Rather the river is dammed up into the power plant. What the river is now, namely, a water power supplier, derives from out of the essence of the power station. In order that we may even remotely consider the monstrousness that reigns here, let us ponder for a moment the contrast that speaks out of the two titles, “The Rhine” as dammed up into the power works, and “The Rhine” as uttered out of the art work, in Hölderlin’s hymn by that name. But, it will be replied, the Rhine is still a river in the landscape, is it not? Perhaps. But how? In no other way than as an object on call for inspection by a tour group ordered there by the vacation industry.  

I called Papaver somniferum an ally. I could instead have discussed its relationship with Homo sapiens in terms of symbiosis.  Because it generates morphine, a plant which originated on a small strip of the Mediterranean coast now grows on six of seven continents. And while contentious at times, the relationship has by and large been mutually beneficial: most contemporary analgesics are derived directly or indirectly from opium poppies.

There's nothing mystical or pseudoscientific about symbiosis. Many flowering plants depend on pollen-carrying insects for propagation.  Others use sweet fruits to attract animals who will later scatter seeds (no pun intended) in their dung.  P. somniferum appears to use morphine as a tool to attract human attention and cultivation. This claim does not require recourse to supernatural explanations.  Nobody points to durian seeds in civet shit as proof of Intelligent Design. Neither does anybody dispute that humans can cause rapid evolutionary changes.

"Symbiosis" would be a perfectly acceptable word, one which correctly described poppy/human interaction. But it would not tell the whole story. In Heidegger's words, it would "[set] nature up to exhibit itself as a coherence of forces calculable in advance [and order] its experiments precisely for the purpose of asking whether and how nature reports itself when set up in this way." It would leave intact what Galina Krasskova calls "the Monotheism filter:" it would reaffirm the comfortable notion that H. sapiens is set apart from every other living being on the planet, endowed by the Creator evolution with an immortal soul free will and the capacity for reason.

Throughout Power of the Poppy I suggest that poppy has agency and sentience.  You can take that as a metaphor if you like.  Read Michael Pollan's Botany of Desire: consider the ways in which we have improved the lives of rats and cockroaches.  From there you might reconsider humanity's place in the ecosystem.  Instead of reveling in our ability to manipulate our environment, you might realize how much our environment manipulates us.  Power of the Poppy could become not a teaching tool but a catalyst for "letting-learn," an experience which changes the way you relate to yourself and your surroundings.

Do I believe that poppies literally have sentience?  I'm not entirely convinced that humans are sentient.  The jury is still out on free will: evidence suggests reason is more often used to win arguments than to discover Truth.  Crows have complex societies. are capable of co-ordinated efforts, and pass knowledge down through generations.   Gerhard Roth and Ursula Dicke note that intelligence has appeared independently among different classes of vertebrates (birds and mammals) and among different orders of the same class (i.e. dolphins and chimpanzees).  Even cabbages may be able to remember and respond to information.   I think it exceedingly unlikely that poppies have developed anything which resembles human intelligence. The concerns of plants are not the concerns of toolmaking primates: their experience of space differs vastly from that of creatures endowed with mobility.  Hummel and I share a distaste for anthropomorphism. Where our thinking diverges is on anthrocentrism.

Hummel takes it as a given that humans can only interact with nonhumans in what Heidegger disciple Martin Buber would call an "I-it" relationship. Yet for much of human history we have felt it possible and even desirable to have an "I-thou" relationship with nonhumans, to treat them as beings rather than objects.  This does not, of course, mean that those beliefs are correct simply because of tradition (the argumetum ad antiquitatem fallacy).  But it suggests, to me at least, that the misunderstanding may be on our end rather than theirs. We view their experience through our own prejudices: we assume their conception of "gods," "spirits" and suchlike are identical to our own.  This conflation lets us dismiss traditional beliefs as superstitious nonsense. But it also leads us to think we are debunking delusions when we are merely burning straw men.

In re a Power of the Poppy Review: for Del Schlosser

The awesome and talented Del Schlosser (who, tragically, was recently diagnosed with a terminal illness) posted a review of The Power of the Poppy a few weeks ago. Since I wanted to take a break from the Pantheacon discussions (entertaining though they are), I thought this might be a good time to address one of his comments.

Where my disappointment came in, was that as a fellow spirit worker, I had really hoped there would have been more spiritual information about the spirit ally of Poppy. It gets a passing mention now and again, but there isn’t even a chapter dedicated to those who wish to work with Her in any sort of real sense. I know that Kenaz has worked with Her as a real Spirit Ally, and I would have loved to read a little bit about hir experiences in doing so. I’ll admit; I read the book looking for this part, and when it didn’t show up, I was let down a bit. I get that the book is likely more marketable without all that woo-woo shit, but this is Kenaz Filan, author of the Voodou Love Magic book. I don’t think hir fan base would have been disappointed with a little woo.

There were  a couple of reasons I avoided talking about working with Poppy as a spirit ally.  The first is that I didn't want to encourage the people looking for "Real Hardcore Shamanism" to try anything that might get them in serious trouble.  In my opinion, Poppy literally is "the most dangerous ally" (the working title for the manuscript). Datura will chew you up, spit you out and leave you swearing you will never go near an anticholinergic plant ever, ever, EVER again.  Given the opportunity, Poppy will send you down a decades-long path of degradation, despair and ultimate death.

Providing bored Harnerites with instructions on how to meet Poppy via smoking opium, snorting heroin or even drinking poppy tea like it was ayahuasca would be irresponsible, in my opinion.  (That's not to say I wasn't tempted. That's not to say that at all... ). I took the harm reduction approach instead, providing information to people who were already interested in the topic about how they could approach Poppy in the safest possible manner.  If they wanted to construct their own rituals to Poppy, build a Poppy shrine or otherwise honor her, that was up to them.  I haven't found that Poppy was particularly interested in building that sort of relationship with me, nor have I run into many others who deal with her in that manner.

The second was that I felt many of the movements I described - bebop jazz, Seattle grunge, the Romantic fascination with opium ala de Quincey and Coleridge - showed how Poppy was doing spiritual work with us, even when we weren't approaching her in a shamanic fashion. Just because we don't strike shamanic bargains with allies doesn't mean that bargains aren't being struck. Consider the way Corn has left its mark on us even though we don't regularly make offerings to Corn Maiden anymore. (And whaddya know, it turns out that High Fructose Corn Syrup works on some of the same receptor pathways as cocaine and opiates and may be just as addictive).

Power of the Poppy excerpt on Reality Sandwich and other Shameless Self-Promotions

An excerpt from The Power of the Poppy is now available on Reality Sandwich, the website founded by Daniel Pinchbeck. I'm thrilled to be on RS and hope to be posting more material there soon.  I am also available on Podcast, with recent interviews by Omo Yemaya (H²O Network), Frater Puck (Thelema Now!) and Karagan (Witchtalk).

Danger, Protection and Poppies

During my interview on the H2O Network, we discussed how the War on Drugs has led to all sorts of restrictions being implemented in the name of saving us from making bad choices. Omo Yemaya asked about what I had learned while writing and researching Power of the Poppy and what lessons I would like my readers to take away from the book.

One of the big ones was this: if we give our legislators the ability to regulate heroin, we also give them the ability to regulate aloe vera and other natural supplements. If we trust them to protect us from the terrorists who want to fly planes into our buildings, we shouldn't be surprised when they try to protect us from the "terrorists" who expose unsafe, inhumane and unsanitary factory farming practices.  Like any ally (spiritual or otherwise) our leaders need to be watched closely and treated with caution.  We all know that oxycodone or morphine use can quickly spin out of control. We need to remember that the same is true of government.

Another is this: all the laws in the world cannot triumph over the law of supply and demand, or over the Darwinian laws of natural selection. There will always be people who use mind-altering substances, and there will always be people who abuse them. Our efforts to discourage them through punitive means are doomed. From 1914's Harrison Narcotics Act to the present day, we have tried to criminalize drug abuse out of existence. We have succeeded only in creating powerful organized crime cartels, persecuting doctors, and feeding a prison/law enforcement complex that seeks ever-greater power in the name of "protecting our children."

Perhaps someday we will see a politician honest enough to say "Some day, somewhere, some lone zealot will succeed in blowing himself up on a crowded subway or on an airplane.  Our present trend of virtual strip-searches and toddler pat-downs cannot take away that risk: it can only take away our dignity. We are not even sacrificing our liberty for safety: we are giving it up for the illusion of safety. We cannot protect ourselves from Black Swans and anyone who says otherwise is trying to sell you something." The folks who are leading the war on drugs are also leading the war on terror. Ask yourself what they gain from your acquiescence in their schemes and what their "protection" is costing you.  Because that is another lesson which Poppy teaches: everything has a price and every action has a consequence.  No ally works for free and any ally will promote its interests over yours.

Power of the Poppy is now available

My fifth book, Power of the Poppy: Harnessing Nature's Most Dangerous Plant Ally, is now available on Amazon and elsewhere.  It's a departure from my usual Vodou-oriented writing, but not so large as one might think.  Because there was little available material on Haitian Vodou by and for serious practitioners, I wrote The Haitian Vodou Handbook.  And when I started doing research on plant shamanism and plant allies, I found that one of our most important plant allies had been almost completely ignored. I also found that nobody was talking about the quid pro quo which is such a part of a shaman's work with allies. They aren't just benevolent green spirits waiting to teach you wisdom - like the lwa, they demand payment for their services.

I really enjoyed writing and researching this book, and hope that my readers will enjoy it as well.

From *Power of the Poppy* - Neolithic Papaver somniferum

Here is an excerpt from my upcoming Power of the Poppy - a look at some of the earliest evidence of opiate usage among our distant ancestors. Hope you enjoy! - k

****

Approximately 7,500 years ago agricultural communities began to develop along the basin of the Danube River. Within less than two hundred years they had spread to what would become Belgium and northern France in the west and Ukraine in the east. Where their ancestors had foraged and hunted for a living, these people (called linearbandkeramik, or LBK, for their distinctive pottery) worked the land for their food. They took cues—and seeds—from the Near East, where farming had been taking place for millennia. Among the charred remains of their fires, archaeologists have found traces of emmer and einkorn wheat, linseed (flax), lentils, and peas, crops that originated in modern-day Turkey, Syria, Israel, and Iran.¹ But amid all those eastern seeds was one other nonnative plant that came not from the east but from the southwest—Papaver somniferum, otherwise known as the opium poppy.

Today most botanists believe P. somniferum descends from Papaver setigerum, a wild poppy growing in the western Mediterranean. P. setigerum is found in Italy, northern Africa, eastern Spain, the Mediterranean coast of France, and the Canary Islands. P. setigerum is slightly smaller than P. somniferum; its leaves are thinner, with long, jagged teeth tipped with a bristle that is not found on P. somniferum leaves. They also lack P. somniferum’s waxy coating. Like its domesticated cousin, P. setigerum contains morphine alkaloids; indeed, the two poppies are so similar that some botanists believe them to be the same species.²

It has been suggested that poppies were introduced to LBK agriculture through trade with the La Hoguette culture, a group known primarily by its distinctive bone-tempered pottery. The La Hoguette culture is believed to have originated in southern and southwestern France. They descended from an earlier impressed ware culture that resided on the shores of the Mediterranean. La Hoguette and LBK pottery has been found together at many sites east and west of the Rhine, suggesting that contact and trade took place between the two cultures.

From there, poppies continued on their journey northward. A dig at Raunds, a site in rural Northamptonshire, England, uncovered eight opium poppy seeds dated from the early Neolithic period (5,800–5,600 years ago). While opium poppies can grow as weeds, the lack of other weeds in the ditch and the absence of cereal remains suggest this plant may have been a crop in its own right.³ While Neolithic civilization has traditionally been envisioned as scattered collections of hunter-gatherers who supplemented their foraging with primitive agriculture, the Raunds poppy seeds reveal trade routes between Britain and the Continent. They also suggest that the people of Raunds held poppies in high regard—high enough, at least, to carry seeds across the English Channel, then haul them into the East Midlands and plant them.

Excavations at Egolzwil, an archaeological site located in Switzerland’s Lucerne canton, have revealed signs of poppy cultivation dating back over six thousand years, including poppy seed cakes and poppy heads. These may have been used to feed their cattle in emergencies (cattle generally dislike foraging on bitter-tasting poppies and will eat them only if no better food is available), but these farmers would certainly have known that poppies can produce intoxication and even death in cattle if too many are given. Yet evidence suggests that poppies were the most common crop at Egolzwil, more common than club wheat, barley, or flax.⁴

Even earlier evidence of opium poppy use comes from recent underwater archaeological work at La Marmotta, a site in Lake Bracciano, Italy (northwest of Rome). La Marmotta was occupied by a Neolithic farming community for about five hundred years before it was abandoned, then submerged by water some 7,700 years ago. Based on the sophisticated artifacts found at the La Marmotta site—and the paucity of evidence for any other contemporaneous cities or villages in the area—archaeologists believe this was a colony from another civilization in Greece or the Near East. And given the model boats (along with a well-preserved longboat found buried in the mud), it seems likely that there was considerable water traffic between the La Marmotta colony and traders from other civilizations.

“This was not an ordinary village,” says Maria Antonietta Fugazzola Delpino, director of the La Marmotta expedition. “The people were in touch with other communities in the Mediterranean. We picture it as a kind of highway—there were many ships coming and going.”⁵ Organic remains preserved beneath three meters of limestone included poppy seeds, presumably cultivated for food, oil, medicine, and possibly for religious use. It may be here that poppies and their seeds were first brought eastward from Europe. Two thousand years later, they would be seen again in the kingdom of Sumeria.

NOTES

¹Leendert P. Louwe Kooijmans, “The Mesolithic/Neolithic Transformation in the Lower Rhine Basin,” in Case Studies in European Prehistory, ed. Peter I. Bogucki (Boca Raton, La.: CRC Press, 1993), 130.

²C. C. Bakels, “Abstract: Papaver somniferum Culture in Prehistory and Early History” (Symposium: Plants in Health and Culture, Leiden, February 16–17, 2004), www.plantsinhealthandculture.nl/plantsinhealthandculture/Abstracts/AbstractBakels.html (accessed January 13, 2009).

³Gill Campbell and Mark Robinson (with Polydora Baker, Simon Davis, and Sebastian Payne), “Environment and Land Use in the Valley Bottom,” English Heritage, www.english-heritage.org.uk/upload/pdf/018-036_Chapter2_FINAL.pdf (accessed January 14, 2009).

⁴Graeme Baker, Prehistoric Farming in Europe (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1985), 123.

⁵ Robert Kunzig, “La Marmotta,” Discover, November 1, 2002, http://discovermagazine.com/2002/nov/cover (accessed January 13, 2009).

Poppies and Neolithic Shamanism

This is from my forthcoming manuscript, Papaver sominiferum: the Most Dangerous Ally. It's an exploration of the earliest usages of opium poppies - which, if the evidence is to be believed, was very early indeed. Hope you enjoy!

- k

****

Approximately 7,500 years ago agricultural communities began to develop along the basin of the Danube River. Within less than 200 years they had spread to Belgium and northern France in the west and Ukraine in the east. Where their ancestors had foraged and hunted for a living, these people (called linearbandkeramik or LBK culture for their distinctive pottery) worked the land for their food. They took cues – and seeds – from the Near East, where farming had been taking place for millennia. Among the charred remains of their fires archaeologists have found traces of emmer and einkorn wheat, linseed (flax), lentils and peas, crops which originated in modern-day Turkey, Syria, Israel and Iran.[1]  But amidst all those eastern seeds there was one other non-native plant that came not from the east but from the southwest – Papaver somniferum, otherwise known as the opium poppy.

Today most modern-day botanists believe P. somniferum descends from Papaver setigerum, a wild poppy growing in the western Mediterranean. P. setigerum is found in Italy, northern Africa, eastern Spain, the Mediterranean coast of France, and the Canary Islands. P. setigerum is slightly smaller than P. somniferum: its leaves are thinner, with long jagged teeth tipped with a bristle that is not found on P. somniferum leaves: they also lack P. somniferum's waxy coating. Like its domesticated cousin, P. setigerum contains morphine alkaloids: indeed, the two poppies are so similar that the wild poppy is commonly called Papaver somniferum ssp. Setigerum or even Papaver somniferum var. setigerum.[2]

It has been suggested that poppies were introduced to LBK agriculture via trade with the La Hoguette culture, a group known primarily by its distinctive bone-tempered pottery. The La Hoguette culture is believed to have originated in southern and southwestern France: they descended from an earlier "Impressed Ware" culture which resided on the shores of the Mediterranean. La Hoguette and LBK pottery has been found together at many sites east and west of the Rhine, suggesting there was contact and trade between the two cultures.

From there, poppies continued on their journey northward. A dig at Raunds, a site in rural Northamptonshire, England, discovered eight opium poppy seeds dated from the early Neolithic period (5,800 – 5,600 years BP). While opium poppies can grow as weeds, the lack of other weeds in the ditch, as well as the absence of cereal remains, suggest this plant may have been a crop in its own right.[3] While Neolithic civilization has traditionally been envisioned as scattered collections of hunter-gatherers who supplemented their foraging with primitive agriculture, the Raunds poppy seeds reveal trade routes between Britain and the Continent. They also suggest that the people of Raunds held poppies in high regard – high enough, at least, to carry seeds across the English Channel, then haul them into the East Midlands and plant them.

At Cuevo de los Murciélagos ("Cave of the Bats," a Neolithic burial site located in Albuñol, Granada in southern Spain), we find still more evidence of poppy usage. Thanks to the cave's arid conditions, the round woven grass bags which were buried with the dead have been preserved, along with their contents – large numbers of poppy capsules which have been shown by carbon dating to be over 6,000 years old. Given the somnolence caused by ingestion of poppies, it seems clear that even at this early date they were associated with death and, presumably, with shamanic journeying.

Excavations at Egolzwil, an archaeological site located in Switzerland's Lucerne canton, have revealed signs of poppy cultivation dating back over 6,000 years, including poppy seed cakes and poppy heads. These may have been used to feed their cattle in emergencies (cattle generally dislike foraging on bitter-tasting poppies and will only eat them if no better food is available) but these farmers would certainly have known that poppies can produce intoxication and even death in cattle if too many are given. Yet evidence suggests that poppies were the most common crop at Egolzwil, more common than club wheat, barley or flax.[4]

Even earlier evidence of opium poppy use comes from recent underwater archaeological work at La Marmotta, a site in Lake Bracciano, Italy (northwest of Rome). La Marmotta was occupied by a Neolithic farming community for about 500 years before it was abandoned, then submerged by water some 7,700 years ago. Based on the sophisticated artifacts found at the La Marmotta site – and the paucity of evidence for any other contemporaneous cities or villages in the area – archaeologists believe this was a colony from another civilization in Greece or the Near East. And given the model boats (along with a well-preserved longboat found buried in the mud), it seems likely that there was considerable water traffic between the La Marmotta colony and traders from other civilizations.
 

 "This was not an ordinary village," says Maria Antonietta Fugazzola Delpino, director of the La Marmotta expedition. "The people were in touch with other communities in the Mediterranean. We picture it as a kind of highway—there were many ships coming and going."[5] Organic remains preserved beneath three meters of limestone included poppy seeds, presumably cultivated for food, oil, medicine, and possibly for religious use.

---

[1]             Leendert P. Louwe Kooijmans.  "The Mesolithic/Neolithic Transformation in the Lower Rhine Basin" in Case Studies in European Prehistory, (Peter I. Bogucki, Editor). Boca Raton, CRC Press, 1993. 130.

[2]             C.C. Bakels. "Abstract: Papaver somniferum culture in prehistory and early history" (2004) at Program Symposium: Plants in Health and Culture. www.plantsinhealthandculture.nl/plantsinhealthandculture/Abstracts/AbstractBakels.html. Accessed January 13, 2009.

[3]             Gill Campbell and Mark Robinson (with Polydora Baker, Simon Davis and Sebastian Payne). "Environment and Land Use in the Valley Bottom" at English Heritage. www.english-heritage.org.uk/upload/pdf/018-036_Chapter2_FINAL.pdf. Accessed January 14, 2009.

[4]             Graeme Baker. Prehistoric Farming in Europe.  Cambridge University Press, 1985. 123.

[5]             Robert Kunzig. "La Marmotta." Discover, November 1, 2002. http://discovermagazine.com/2002/nov/cover. Accessed January 13, 2009.