It may just be the time change and thinking about the thread we had going at the end of last week about having dinner and a pipe with someone famous, but I had the strangest dream about kicking back and smoking a bowl with Gregory Pease. No, it wasn’t as disturbing as a real life dinner I had with Bob Dylan, where he ruined my enjoyment of ever listening to his music again, by being an arrogant asshat. It was just a pleasant discussion (maybe a little on the darkside) on pipes with the GLPer that lives in my head from reading his posts and tins on tobacco and pipes. Maybe, it was even more enjoyable than having dinner with the real Pease, I don’t know. Heck, at least the real Pease didn’t have to endure me in return, lol.
I was smoking some Haddos Delight in the dream, and I remember the tanginess and the aroma of liquor and plums hanging in the air. In real life discussions in the lounge at The Briary with friends, we’ve often discussed Haddos and its intriguing name. Making puns, and in general coming to the conclusion that Haddo must have been the name of Mr. Pease’s cat. My cat tends to like perique quite a bit, and often rubs against my VaPer pipes on the rack sending them into the floor. But, my cat’s name is Hemingway, …but we all call him Papa.
I think in real life, my first question to Pease would be whether or not he really sold his soul at the crossroads to gain his ability to blend tobaccos like a magician. But, then my mind was reeling this morning. I did a search for Haddo using a couple of academic search engines, and right off the bat, I got my main lead as to who this Haddo is. The first character is from a novel called The Magician by William Somerset. Hmmm, magician…. Synapsis spinning, making connections… Aleister Crowley liked perique soaked in rum, or was it Rasputin? Weren’t they magicians or prophets or something? So a search for the author of the novel and those two crazy people returned a snippet about the novel by Somerset being about Aleister Crowley, in which Haddo was a characterization of Crowley. To make it even more succinct, Crowley had published a review of this book under the name Haddo.
Now, I confess to knowing very little about Aleister Crowley. Wasn’t he a crazy cult leader of sorts? Did he make people buy tennis shoes and wait for UFOs? Or, did he kill some Russian royal family or something? I confuse myself sometimes. But, I do know that every time someone mentions smoking straight perique, someone will spout that Aleister Crowley smoked straight perique, suggesting that it will make you crazy.
Now, I’ve smoked straight perique. It’s not as mind blowing as people say. To me, it’s like cinnamon or jalapenos. Just a little brings out natural taste of the other foods in the mix, a lot more it makes them both spicier, and by itself it just overloads the senses. Straight perique fills all of my taste receptors till it just doesn't taste good. Like a mouth full of cinnamon, but no hallucinations, prophetic revelations, nor feelings of special powers …just bleh. However, in a perique forward like Haddos Delight, it really tingles on the tongue but there is enough Cavendish and Virginias to make a dance floor for the perique to really swing. But, a far cry from straight perique soaked in rum, delivering prophetic visions while lying in the floor with a massive bleeding tongue bitten by the fermented Voodoo of leaf of St. James.
So, this brings up other questions that I might ask Mr. Pease. Was this the reference you intended for this blend? Did I hit the nail on the head? What about this aforementioned Crossroads? Do you know the whereabouts of the Grand Duchess of Russia? Have you ever met Ozzy Osborne or bitten the head off of a bat?
I was smoking some Haddos Delight in the dream, and I remember the tanginess and the aroma of liquor and plums hanging in the air. In real life discussions in the lounge at The Briary with friends, we’ve often discussed Haddos and its intriguing name. Making puns, and in general coming to the conclusion that Haddo must have been the name of Mr. Pease’s cat. My cat tends to like perique quite a bit, and often rubs against my VaPer pipes on the rack sending them into the floor. But, my cat’s name is Hemingway, …but we all call him Papa.
I think in real life, my first question to Pease would be whether or not he really sold his soul at the crossroads to gain his ability to blend tobaccos like a magician. But, then my mind was reeling this morning. I did a search for Haddo using a couple of academic search engines, and right off the bat, I got my main lead as to who this Haddo is. The first character is from a novel called The Magician by William Somerset. Hmmm, magician…. Synapsis spinning, making connections… Aleister Crowley liked perique soaked in rum, or was it Rasputin? Weren’t they magicians or prophets or something? So a search for the author of the novel and those two crazy people returned a snippet about the novel by Somerset being about Aleister Crowley, in which Haddo was a characterization of Crowley. To make it even more succinct, Crowley had published a review of this book under the name Haddo.
Now, I confess to knowing very little about Aleister Crowley. Wasn’t he a crazy cult leader of sorts? Did he make people buy tennis shoes and wait for UFOs? Or, did he kill some Russian royal family or something? I confuse myself sometimes. But, I do know that every time someone mentions smoking straight perique, someone will spout that Aleister Crowley smoked straight perique, suggesting that it will make you crazy.
Now, I’ve smoked straight perique. It’s not as mind blowing as people say. To me, it’s like cinnamon or jalapenos. Just a little brings out natural taste of the other foods in the mix, a lot more it makes them both spicier, and by itself it just overloads the senses. Straight perique fills all of my taste receptors till it just doesn't taste good. Like a mouth full of cinnamon, but no hallucinations, prophetic revelations, nor feelings of special powers …just bleh. However, in a perique forward like Haddos Delight, it really tingles on the tongue but there is enough Cavendish and Virginias to make a dance floor for the perique to really swing. But, a far cry from straight perique soaked in rum, delivering prophetic visions while lying in the floor with a massive bleeding tongue bitten by the fermented Voodoo of leaf of St. James.
So, this brings up other questions that I might ask Mr. Pease. Was this the reference you intended for this blend? Did I hit the nail on the head? What about this aforementioned Crossroads? Do you know the whereabouts of the Grand Duchess of Russia? Have you ever met Ozzy Osborne or bitten the head off of a bat?