Jason's Stuff - Dream Machine

Ever since I first read about the Dream Machine back in my early beatnik period (directly after my equally cringeworthy Jim Morrison/teen-poet douche-fag stage), I’ve desperately wanted to try one out. According to its advocates, the Dream Machine can and will reveal the inner workings of the mind, lay bare the mysteries of the subconscious, and shine light where none had shone before. Insight! Revelation! Weird shit!

Now, nearly 20 years later, I find that I’m still curious about the machine, so I hit up Dream Machine maker Gareth Ewers at dreamstateuk.com and he sent one over to me.

The Dream Machine is a tall cylinder with a sequence of holes cut out of it, resting on a turntable running at 78rpm with a 100-watt light bulb dangling down the center. The “viewer” sits close to the spinning cylinder with his/her eyes closed and the light flashing through the holes pulses on the eyelids, travels up the optic nerve, and alters the electrical oscillations in the brain, causing one to “see” a kaleidoscope of patterns, shapes, colors, and—hopefully—a parade of hypnagogic images. It can also make you piss your pants and have a fit.

Engineer Ian Sommerville and artist Brion Gyson invented the Dream Machine in Paris in the early 60s, but William Boroughs is perhaps its most famous proponent, dedicating much of his life to its use and exploration. Other notable Dream Machiners include David Bowie, Laurie Anderson, Groucho Marx, Dr. Teeth, Alan Thicke and even Kurt Cobain, who, according to the people who concoct and perpetuate conspiracy theories, stared into his for a record three days before committing suicide.

The Dream Machine that Gareth sent me is designed to the exact specifications of Sommerville and Gyson’s original. I quickly set it up, closed the blinds, turned it on, and got comfortable. Nothing. I saw plenty of odd colours and shapes, but nothing I couldn’t create by merely rubbing my eyes. Dismayed, I emailed Gareth and he recommended I give it at least 30 minutes to take effect. So, the following Sunday when everyone was out of the office I did just that. After about 25 minutes I found that, while the shapes and patterns had certainly deepened and become more complex, no portal to the other side had revealed itself.

I was about to pack it up and go get a burrito when I noticed a black hand waving at me in the distance. I got the feeling it had been there for a while, but as soon as I noticed it, it disappeared. I sat and waited a little longer, and then along came the shadow of a snake. The snake, like the hand before, vanished once I’d detected it, and so I waited for something else to happen. Suddenly, an old woman’s craggy face emerged and then just as quickly sunk from view. “Jesus,” I said, startling myself. Then, to my amazement, a triangle materialized and a greyish skeleton climbed out of it.

I really saw these things and they really seemed to appear without my prompting. It was like watching a movie that was being projected both in and outside of my skull. Fucking weird. Anyway, after the skeleton nothing else popped up, and so I slowly drifted off into a kind of trance—not looking, not seeing, and not really thinking about anything at all. It was very pleasant. My brain felt like it had stopped. And it was while I was in this state that I realized there were several hazy figures next to me (not in the room as such, but definitely next to me). There were perhaps three of them, and they were shaped like people. And although they seemed harmless, having them lurk there was unsettling enough to make me open my eyes and turn the machine off.

Admittedly, I had read in the New York Times about a similar experience involving human figures loitering in the peripheral, but I’m certain I didn’t invent these people myself. Or maybe I did? I don’t know. I do know that the whole thing was one of the most mystifying experiences of my life.

Just as baffling was the amount of time that had elapsed since I first sat down: two hours. It was like I’d been asleep. It felt like 45 minutes. The best thing about the Dream Machine experience was that for the rest of day I was super-dooper chill and everything was nice. I felt like I’d spent a week sitting on the beach. It was great. Dream Machines: thumbs up. I’ll definitely be doing it again, despite the death-trip imagery and the spooky figures twiddling their thumbs at me in the corner.

Previously: Jason's Stuff - Morphsuits