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  • At Millbrook, I had managed to read both Old and New Testaments cover to cover (along with the Bhagavad-Gita,The Qu'ran, the I-Ching, and the Ten-Thousand Songs of Milarepa until I was disabused of my studies by my friend and mentor Dr. Timothy Leary. He stopped me on the road one day on horseback. I was barefoot and making the slow descent down from Brotherhood Mountain after one of our full moon peyote ceremonies. Tim asked how I was adjusting to our new life in Southern California. It had been about six months since Liddy banished us from our east coast Valhalla at Millbrook. Now that our more orthodox "League For Spiritual Discovery" had merged with the easy breezy tantric culture of the "Brotherhood of Eternal Love" there was a lot more lifestyle to adjust to. In Millbrook, we were groomed as high priests and presiding magi to a burgeoning generation of accelerated nervous systems. Here, at the 540 acre Brotherhood ranch there were more profane matters before us, namely: sex, the manufacture of "Orange Sunshine", and the impending visit of The Moody Blues.They had just immortalized Tim in the song "Timothy Leary is Dead", and had requested to meet with the great guru. Tim was apprehensive. He didn't particularly like the song, and was more than peeved by the implication "he'd sell anyone thrills along a pier". He thought it made him sound like a carny drug peddler rather than the High Priest of a dawning New Age.
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