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“A veggie restaurant in Raleigh? It’ll never work” was the reaction of most folks who consider Raleigh a meat and potatoes town. Early this spring, however, the Irregardless, located on Morgan Street in the shadow of Central Prison, opened its doors and now has a full house every lunch and most dinner-times.
By Ebba KraarSeptember 1975When I am awake I call myself a student of the occult. Though occult research is regarded as a profession less respectable than most, it is enough to provide me with an acceptable, if peripheral role in the social body.
By Rob BrezsnySeptember 1975To begin with, I don’t believe in alternate life styles. Having lived communally, having been married, having lived alone, it all comes down to the same thing: you live, ultimately, with yourself.
By Sy SafranskySeptember 1975I’ll start with feeling bad. It’s a bone with a little — you should pardon the expression — meat on it. Tears are tears. Nobody needs to tell you how to feel bad. It’s as natural as bleeding. As natural as concentration camps, impotence, or saying the wrong thing.
By Sy SafranskySeptember 1975Pin-ups make us feel good. Marilyn Monroe and Baba Ram Dass make me feel good. Why else did I spend the first half of my life jerking off into her picture, and the second half into his?
By Sy SafranskySeptember 1975The usual assumption about power is that there is only one kind — physical. Spiritual power exists too, though the two are not entirely unrelated, in my experience anyway.
By Norm MoserSeptember 1975In Jane Robert’s The Education of Oversoul Seven, Seven is undergoing a rather awesome examination that centers on the nature of reality, dreams, reincarnation and out-of-body travel.
By Debbi EwersSeptember 1975If his words evoke for you the same renewed wonder at the possibilities of creation, the same suggestion of undreamt-of expression, unacknowledged realities, and unlimited self-realization, I might escape a little of the karmic shitstorm that comes from saying: read this book.
By Sy SafranskySeptember 1975As you all know, we continuously contend with preachers who promote their productivity in Cosmic Shithouses all over the universe. And when they wipe their Cosmic Asses, there’s nothing there but the same old shit that you and I have been living with for years.
By David BonnisSeptember 1975Everywhere out of doors that I go — city streets, roadsides, country fields, dense forests, wherever there is water and soil and sunlight (and these can be in the smallest quantities or poorest qualities) — I see plant life of such great beauty and uniqueness that I am dazzled with appreciation and wonder.
By Leaf DiamantSeptember 1975Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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