Bringing the Text to Life
Had it been the late Dr. Timothy Leary, the acid-dropping, tune-in/tune-out, one-time stuck-in-the-sixties Harvard prof of everything psychedelic, and not Isaiah, who had a vision of God and angel wings, a smoked-filled temple which shook at the sound of the divine voice, it is not certain that Leary would've responded differently than Isaiah himself. In the smoke and shaking, the voice asks: "Whom shall I send?"
Leary not only would've said, like Isaiah, "Send me, send me," he would've made a mental note about the great weed he was smoking. Being sent, or tripping, was Leary's speciality. His ashes, along with trekkie Gene Roddenberry's, are now in outer space, thanks to a Houston-based company, Celestis, Inc., which, for $4,800 will fill a lipstick-sized tube with your cremains and fire it from a rocket toward Alpha Centari.
Today, drugs are uncool, but tripping is still cool. No one understands this better than Robert Bigelow, 55, whom astronaut Buzz Aldrin calls a space pioneer....