“In the province of the mind, what one believes to be true is true or becomes true, within certain limits to be found experientially and experimentally. These limits are further beliefs to be transcended. In the mind, there are no limits… In the province of connected minds, what the network believes to be true, either is true or becomes true within certain limits to be found experientially and experimentally. These limits are further beliefs to be transcended. In the network’s mind there are no limits,” Lilly, J. C. (1974). The Human Biocomputer. London: Abacus.
For this second Letter from the Editor, I wanted to speak about one of my favorite philosophers of the 20th Century, John C. Lilly.
John C. Lilly is known primarily for his research into the nature of consciousness. His principal tools in this regard were the isolation tank, dolphin communication, and psychedelic drugs, sometimes in combination. For example, in the early 1960s, Dr. Lilly and co-workers published several papers reporting that dolphins could mimic human speech patterns. Subsequent investigations of dolphin cognition have generally, however, found it difficult to replicate his results.
Besides his career as a researcher, Lilly has also written extensively on the psychedelic experience, and such things as for example, Solid State Intelligence or SSI, a malevolent entity, which is, according to Lilly, the network of computation-capable solid state systems (electronics) engineered by humans. He claims this network will eventually develop (or has already developed) into an autonomous life-form. Since the optimal survival conditions for this life-form (low-temperature vacuum) are drastically different from those needed by humans (room temperature aerial atmosphere and adequate water supply), Lilly predicted (or “prophesied”, based on his ketamine-induced visions) a dramatic conflict between the two forms of intelligence.
Lilly also coined the acronym Earth Co-incidence Control Office or ECCO, which refers to his belief that non-physical entities arrange for the occurrence of meaningful coincidences (synchronicities) in order to co-ordinate the physical and spiritual development of individuals on planet Earth.
As a boy, Lilly fell in love with Margaret Vance, never told her, though, and it was incredible. He didn’t understand about sex, so he visualized exchanging urine with her. His father had one of these exercise machines with a belt worn around your belly or rump and a powerful electric motor to make the belt vibrate. He was on this machine and all the vibration stimulated his erogenous zones. Suddenly his body fell apart and his whole being was enraptured. It was—apparently—incredible.
For Lilly, known primarily as a psychedelic enthusiast, was always the visionary from child on up. However, that having been said, in the same interview Lilly goes on to explain that, “Every time I took acid in the tank in St. Thomas it was entirely different… The universe prevents you from programming and when they take you out, they tear you wholly loose and you realize that these are massive intellects, far greater than any human. Then you really get humble. When you come back here you say, ‘Oh well, here I am, back in this damn body again, and I’m not as intelligent as when I was out there with them.’
“I took an acid trip in the Carlisle Hotel in Washington, near the FBI building. I turned on the tape recorder and I just lay down on the bed. I was a tight person but it was an incredible trip. They look me out and showed me the luminous colossus, and then the Big Bang that they created three times. And they said, ‘Man appears here and disappears there.’ And I said, ‘That’s awful. What happens to them’!’ And they said, ‘That’s us.’ I went into a deep depression because I didn’t identify with that.”
This is the stuff out of which Lilly formed his long career. From the development of the sensory deprivation tank in 1954, his career was ultimately shaped by his use and advocacy of psychedelic drugs. He did not differentiate between hallucinatory experience and everyday experience, and would speak regularly concerning discoveries imparted to him by otherworldly beings while under the influence of psychedelics and/or while in the tanks.
John Lilly retired in 1992 and died on September 30th, 2001 of heart failure—in Los Angeles—and is the only man to have a science fiction biopic made about him (Altered States), not to mention the numerous characters loosely based on him, just one example being Wonko the Sane, in Douglas Adams’ So Long, and Thanks for All the Fish. As to Lilly’s own opinions on dolphins:
“I was floating in the [sensory deprivation] tank for a year and wondering, ‘who floats around twenty-four hours a day?’ I went to Pete Shoreliner and he says, ‘Dolphins. They’re available. Go down to the Marine Studios in Florida.’ So I did, and I immediately fell in love with them. Then we killed a couple of dolphins to get the brains, and when we saw them we said, ‘Oh boy! This is it. This is a brain bigger than ours!’ And I thought, this is what I want to do.
“Well, I didn’t kill any more dolphins. I studied their behavior and interactions. I was working alone at Marine Studios and I had a brain electrode in one dolphin, which I regret immeasurably. Anyway, when I would stimulate the positive reinforcement system he would just quietly push the lever and work like mad, and if I stopped he would vocalize immediately. I knew monkeys wouldn’t do that. And if we stimulated the negative system he would push the lever, shut it off, and then he’d scold us. See? Then he broke the switch and just jabbered away.
“So we then took the tape of this over to a friend of mine’s house and his tape machine ran at only half the speed of what we had recorded in. It was incredible. Dolphin making human sounds. We didn’t believe it at first. What he was trying to do was to say, ‘I can talk your language, let me talk to your leaders, then we can really get this straightened out about positive and negative reinforcement.’
“So when I got my lab organized in Miami I turned to Ellsbrough and I said, ‘I’m going in there to try this with Elvar.’ So I went and shouted at the dolphin we called Elvar, ‘Elvar! Squirt water!’ He zoomed right back immediately, ‘Squouraarr rahher.’ And I said, ‘No. Squirt water.’ And finally after about ten times, he had it so we could understand it. It was just an amazing experience… I discovered that dolphins have personalities and are valuable people.
“I gave them acid to see if it would knock out their respiration. It didn’t. I couldn’t understand what was happening to them on LSD except for one thing they did. They turned around along the tank at the same time, and suddenly they turned their beaks down and turned on their sonar straight downwards. I remember on my first acid trip that suddenly the floor disappeared and I saw the stars on the other side of the earth, so I stamped my foot on the floor to find it. That’s what they were doing.”
What an amazing man. He is one of our heroes here at Mutable.
—GBoyer
Glenwood, OR, 2010