/tag/herbology

6 quotes tagged 'herbology'

Publisher: Penguin Essentials (2012)

Publisher: Paperjacks (1971)

188-189

The demand made by Islam upon its adherents for 'self-surrender' and submission to the will of Allah, was carried to its greatest extremes in the fanatical sect known as the Assassins. Theologically they were of the Shi'ite branch of Islam, but their external policies were marked, like the Jewish Zealots, by utter ruthlessness in removing from their path any person who disagreed with their ideas. This they achieved by raising within their group a band of young fanatics called the Fida'is, the 'devoted ones.' They were known generally as 'Assassins' because their complete subservience to the will of their religious masters, without regard for personal danger, was the result of their taking a drug known as khasish, our 'Hashish.' \r\n\r\nThe sect was formed as a secret society around 1090 when they won control, by stratagem, of the mountain fortress of Alamut in Persia. In the eleventh and twelfth centuries they and their successors spread terror throughout Persia and Syria, and were finally only put down after some 12,000 of them had been massacred. For some time small bodies of Assassins lingered on in the mountains of Syria, and some think the cult is not entirely dead even now. \r\n\r\nThe herb which gave them their name, khashish, 'Hashish', means in Arabic no more than 'dried herbage.' If used of a particular drug, it properly requires some qualification, like 'Red Hashish', meaning Belladonna, Deadly Nightshade. The word Hashish alone has become attached to one particular form Cannabis sativa, or Hemp, and the enervating drug made from its resin. But it is difficult to believe that the 'pot'-smokers of today, the weary dotards who wander listlessly round our cities and universities, are the spiritual successors of those drug-crazed enthusiasts who, regardless of their safety, stormed castles and stole as assassins into the strongholds of their enemies. If their 'Hashish' correctly interprets Cannabis then the latter must represent some more potent drug. \r\n\r\nThe Greek word Kannabis may now be traced to the Sumerian element GAN, 'mushroom top', followed by the word which we saw earlier was part of the name of the New Testament Barnabas, and mean 'red, speckled with white', denoting, in other words, the colour of the Amanita muscaria. As well as the transfer of its name to the less powerful 'Hashish', it underwent a jumbling of its form to produce the Greek Panakes, a mysterious plant also called Asclepion (elsewhere used of the mushroom), which required atonement to the earth of various cereals when pulled up. It seems therefore probable that the original Cannabis was the sacred fungus, and that the drug which stimulated the medieval Assassins to self-immolation was the same that brought the Zealots to their awful end on Masada a millennium earlier. Indeed, we may now seriously consider the possibility that the Assassin movement was but a resurgence of a cultic practice that was part of Islam from the beginning, and had its real origin thousands of years before that. It seems to be a pattern of religious movements based on the sacred fungus that long periods of relative calm and stagnation are interspersed with flashes of violent extremism which die away again after persecution, only to re-emerge in much later generations. In this, history is reflecting the action of the drug itself on its partakers. After hectic bouts of uncontrolled activity, the fungus-eater will collapse in a stupor from which only a resurgence of the stimulatory poison in his brain will arouse him.

54-55

To Pliny the fungus had to be reckoned as one of the 'greatest of the marvels of nature', since it 'belonged to a class of things that spring up spontaneously and cannot be grown from seed.' It was surely 'among the most wonderful of all things' in that it could 'spring up and live without a root.' Until the invention of the microscope the function of the spore, produced by each fungus in its millions, could not be appreciated. The mushroom has, indeed, no seed in the accepted sense, germinating and giving out a root and later a stem apex with or without seed leaves. The walls of each minute spore extrude to form thread-like tubes which branch further until all mass together to form the spongy flesh of the fungus. The result is neither animal nor vegetable, and the mystery of its proper classification persisted until relatively modern times. Thus a sixteenth-century naturalist wrote: 'They are a sort of intermediate existence between plants and inanimate nature. In this respect fungi resemble zoophytes, which are intermediate between plants and animals.' \r\n\r\nOne explanation for the creation of the mushroom without apparent seed was that the 'womb' had been fertilized by thunder, since it was commonly observed that the fungi appeared after thunderstorms. Thus one name given them was Ceraunion, from the Greek keraunios, 'thunderbolt.' Another was the Greek hudnon, probably derived from Sumerian UD-NUN, 'storm-seeded.' \r\n\r\nIt was thus uniquely-begotten. The normal process of fructifacation had been by-passed. The seed had not fallen from some previous plant, to be nurtured by the earth until in turn it produced a root and stalk. The god had 'spoken' and his creative 'word' had been carried to earth by the storm-wind, angelic messenger of heaven, and been implanted directly into the volva. The baby that resulted from this divine union was thus the 'Son of God', more truly representative of its heavenly father than any other form of plant or animal life. Here, in the tiny mushroom, was God manifest, the 'Jesus' born of the Virgin 'the image of the invisible God, the first-born of all creation...in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell...' (Col 1:15).

36-37

An added difficulty in botany', wrote Pliny some nineteen hundred years ago, 'is the variety of names given to the same plant in different districts.' The more 'strange' the herb, the more noteworthy its characteristics, the greater the number of folk-names. Dioscorides, for instance, gives some two-score names to the Mandrake, that famous aphrodisiac with which Leah purchased a night of connubial bliss with Jacob (Gen 30:14ff), and whose narcotic properties could not suffice to give poor Othello 'that sweet sleep which thou owedst yesterday'. \r\nUntil comparatively recently, botanists lacked adequate methods of classification, so that plants tended to be grouped together on the basis of what we nowadays would consider secondary characteristics. Thus speaking of the Ground-pine, Pliny records that 'a third variety has the same smell and therefore the same name.' Even now, the inexactitude of local plant names is the despair of field botanists. Pliny felt as sorely frustrated: 'The reason why more herbs are not familiar,' he writes, 'is because experience of them is confined to illiterate country-folk, who form the only class of people living among them. Moreover, when crowds of medical men are to be met everywhere, nobody wants to look for them. Many simples, also, lack names, though their properties are known...The most disgraceful reason for this scanty knowledge is that even those who possess it refuse to teach it, just as though they would themselves lose what they have imparted to others.

Identifying the drug-producing plants, then, was not the only factor in early pharmaceutical and medical practice. It was one thing to be able to recognize a drug plant, even to know it's popular name; it was another to know how to extract and purify the active ingredient, and, above all, to know the right dosage. There were other complications. Some drugs were so powerful that they could only be safely administered on certain days, or after lengthy preparation of the body and mind. It was also well known that over-powerful drugs had to be countered with another having the opposite effect, as in the case of the purge Hellebore, and with some narcotics which had to be offset with stimulants. To know the correct dosages in these cases required an appreciation of the susceptibility of the patient to the drug's effects, perhaps the most difficult calculation of all. Much depended on the recipient's 'fate' allotted him at his birth, the factor that determined his individuality, his physical stature, the colour of his eyes, and so on. Only the astrologer could tell this, so that the art of medicine was itself dependent for success on astrology and the considerable astronomical knowledge this presupposed.

Food of the Gods

Author: Terence McKenna

Publisher: Bantam Books (1993)

128

THE MYTH OF GLAUKOS \r\n\r\nWhile Glaukos, the son of Minos and Pasiphae, was still a small child, he died from falling into a jar, a pithos, filled with honey, while he was pursuing a rat, or a fly; the manuscripts are uncertain. Upon his disappearance his father Minos made many attempts to find him, and finally went to diviners for advice on how he should go about his search. The Kouretes answered that Minos had among his herds a cow of three different colors and that the man who could offer the best simile for this phenomenon would also be the one to know how to restore the boy to life. The diviners gathered together for this task, and finally Polyidos, son of Koiranos, compared the cow's colors to the fruit of the bramble. Compelled thereupon to search for the boy, he eventually found him by means of his powers of divination, but Minos next insisted that Polyidos must restore the boy to life. He was therefore shut up in a tomb with the dead body. While in this great perplexity, he saw a snake approach the corpse. Fearing for his own life should any harm befall the boy's body, Polyidos threw a stone at the serpent and killed it. Then a second snake crept forth, and when it saw its mate lying dead it disappeared, only to return with an herb which it placed on the dead snake, immediately restoring it to life. After Polyidos has seen this with great surprise, he took the same herb and applied it to the body of Glaukos, thereby raising him from the dead. Now although Minos had his son restored to life again, he would not allow Polyidos to depart home to Argos until he had taught Glaukos the art of divination. Under this compulsion Polyidos instructed the youth in the art. But when Polyidos was about to sail away, he bade Glaukos spit into his mouth. This Glaukos did, and thereby unwittingly lost the power of divination.