This is from a part called "Exordium":
By June 1992 I was full of dreams and I was about to leave for the USA for the first time, and I had decided that the introduction to the Big Eco Book I was planning (it took twelve more years to turn it into Ecology Without Nature) was going to be called “Lines Written a Few Miles Above Lines Written a Few Miles Above Tintern Abbey,” a joke about a Wordsworth poem, the location of a rave called Perception I was at on my birthday (Juneteenth 1992) and my highly altered state at that location, a state brought on by a cocktail then charmingly called The Specialist, where one took a capsule of E and a few hours later when nicely remixed into a saner and wilder version of oneself, a hit of acid. The mealymouthed not-quite-fascism-lite of ecocriticism was bound to have zero psychoactive effect on me by comparison.
😂
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