Friday, December 1, 1978 Morning, breakfast, I am about to leave and see Otto about to enter the dining hall. I try to avoid him but it does not work. He walks right to me. We say hello, almost pass, but then he turns to say that he hears I do not speak in the analysis. Then starts to grab, punch and slap me. I become somewhat hysterical and say "ok, ok, I will start talking". My heart attack is not so bad and I return to the guest house. I can't bring myself to the morning SD course. It is too much. Last night I had one or two dreams, but the most important part is that in the dream I found a baby. About the age of Otis, or Cheyenne, when I last saw her. It was on the sidewalk. I was also somewhat back in an old repeated dream of being a newspaper boy. So I took the baby around and tried to finds its home. The police were no help. I don't remember exactly what resulted but I seemed to have gotten stuck with the baby. The other dream was about violence, with guns and shooting. This is the first night from which I can clearly remember my dreams. The baby was found on the corner of Amory and Hampshire street, near the Shamrock bar. Stuck again with thinking about everything and not doing anything. Analysis with Brooke. Sitting in Pengo Cafe and feeling very paranoid, as though people are conscious of me but avoiding contact. And now a feeling that it is all crazy here. Now I start to worry about money. I will talk to Bernd Stein. Maybe I can get a part-time job working with Otmar on construction. That I am always trying to please came out today. Brooke said I do not realize the real distance between us. That coming close to her, moving my hands in a particular way will not really overcome this distance. It is much deeper. She spoke about how the Americans at FH tended to be very superficial, stupid, and imag- ined that after 2 weeks they would be better. I told her about my experience with Otto and how each time was a shot of adrena- line. She spoke about her first experiences here. How she only wanted to develop her art, go to the woods and commune with nature. How everyone was afraid to ask someone to fuck. How Claudia once ran into Otto's room, dumped a pail of garbage on the floor, ran out and slammed the door. Teresa would hit Otto. Lisl ran screaming from the house, into a cornfield, where she began rolling around and saying Otto did not love her. And some other things. We talked about homosexuality and how it was a giving up and trying to please and be polite. She had me sing a little song but I could only whisper and start it. Then she grabbed and played rough with me. We played a little homosexual game at the end. Being very polite and complimentary with every- one. Waving hands and making eyes at each other, then rubbing against her. She said at the end that the real analysis was just beginning. But it was a good start. It seems I am making a little progress but now I am getting very depressed. A Swedish woman who works in the cafe spoke to me. Saying that I always looked so paranoid while sitting there. This was very true today. Now I am thinking about Ralph, the new guest, who is very good. He was invited to join the first group by Otto. I envy him. He has been here before. Brooke said I wanted more contact with Otto. Its true. She said I could come to his 11 o'clock painting class in his room. I was negative again - and felt it and said maybe tomorrow. ----------------------------------------------------------------- | Working 4 hours per day, 6 days per week is 24 hours at $2.50 | | per hour is $60 per week times 4 weeks per month is $240 per | | month.| ----------------------------------------------------------------- Why did I do that? I could sense something was wrong to say no. There would be no resistance to my participating. It was another opportunity refused. There are a thousand chances a day here and I systematically reject them all. Now I think about Sandy and Judy, two women friends outside. The door handles here are real handles, not knobs. I am starting to fall asleep from my depres- sion. What to say about the evening. Otto spoke more about the Goetz/Astrid couple relationship after learning about the state of it. Then for a theme he suggested that we are researchers in consciousness and described the scientific method as he applies it. Also how he could get people to love him. Our bag meeting was less chaotic as we were only 10 people. Ralph suggested that everyone say who they want to sleep with. I wanted Sofia but she said no. The Kathryn said she wanted to be with me. When we were in bed she said how hypocritical she felt as she did not really want to fuck, but maybe some other time. We watched Winfred and Sofia a little, and could hear Annie and Giovanni. K said I should talk more and that she liked my sense of humor. No memory of my dreams. She likes to lie against someone while sleeping. It was very pleasant waking during the night and feeling her. [Let me try to describe the main guest room. Each person had a foam rubber mattress about 6 feet by 3 feet by 4 inches. About a dozen of these were laid side by side. There was a second tier, sort of like bunk beds, with another dozen immediately above the first dozen. There was about 4 feet between the bottom and top layer. The top bunks had a space of about 6 feet between them and the ceiling. There was a similar arrangement of bunks on the other side of the room. There was an open space between the two rows of double bunks. About twelve feet between the rows of beds. So you could be very close to a couple engaged in... very intimate behavior. A person would usually start out very self- conscious about this. But after a few days the anxiety about being watched, or even watching, would disappear completely. The amount of time varied from person to person, but it was rare for someone to not give up on the old behavior of privacy and keeping themselves covered. The showers were also communal. There were no male and female bathrooms--except in an area reserved for real outside people like local farmers, the electric company, etc.] December 2, 1978 The morning SD course was led by Teresa. Near the end she said that I should go in the middle. But it didn't happen. After- wards she asked me what was the problem, and said I seemed to have many important things to think about. She wanted me to look at her while she said this. I could not hold onto my position and started to laugh. Later she saw me walk by the door to Cafe Pengo and called me in. She said I was very paranoid, held me and said, "You know I am a member of the SS and we will brainwash you. We will send out funny vibrations that you will feel all the time." Across the room Sofia and Giovanni are fucking. A new American, Carl Soloman, has just stopped in to visit the guest group. He thinks the AAO is a utopian community, and he is here for the free sexuality. A long talk with Astrid about my analysis. How my feelings for women seem to be flat and squashed and how I have more for men. She tells me about how she learned of the AAO. I walk back from lunch with Beatta. We talk about why I don't go in the middle. She thinks maybe this afternoon. She has been in the Bremen group for 1 year and 4 months. This evening Otto spoke about money and consciousness. How changing to private property made people more responsible and competitive. But - this does not mean ignoring the consequences of our behavior and trodding on others. More consciousness also means economizing on a personal level - and for him it means giving all that he has back to the group - using only what he needs. He does not belong to himself, but to everyone. The same is true of his sexuality - he gives that to all. Claudia and Ava talked a lot about farting and shitting. Achim composed and sang a song about farting. Others tried to make something profound of Otto's earlier comments about farting and shitting. Bernd spoke about plans to buy more of the surrounding land for future buildings. Sofia wants to sleep alone tonite. I am slightly drunk from a glass of wine. Giovanni takes advantage of everyone and holds the middle disturbing all. We walk out on him. I will sleep next to Kathryn. Everyone is going downhill. Nobody fucks tonite. [The group started with common property. That is, everyone put all their things and assets into a common pot. For some it was money. For others it was things they owned. And combinations for others. That was just done. It wasn't discussed endlessly or some program set up to bring it about in the future. They just did it. For some years the group had been living off the money and material brought in by new members. The group could even come to see itself as a parasite on the regular society. They could not exist without the outside society. On the other hand they wanted to demonstrate their model as superior to the normal society. So they had to do something to make the group more self-sufficient. People had to be more responsible. They had to become more efficient. Some people told me stories about the early days and the moving, carpentry, remodeling, and other businesses. They would go to work and often goof off and smoke pot all day. Not exactly a good way to earn a living or leave a good impression with customers. Then came the accounting system. Everything had to be earned and paid for. You got money for your job, and paid for materials and services you needed. The "store" was a somewhat different situation, as I recollect. It was just a big storage space containing things like clothes. You went there for socks, underwear, pants, shirts, shoes, etc. They would often be repaired and recycled things once "owned" by somebody else. Someone usually worked in the store keeping it organized, open, and accepting new materials and repairing them.] Sunday, December 3, 1978 Got up late with a feeling that I want to stay hidden under the covers. Don't want to face another day. Breakfast. Last night I spoke to Otmar for awhile. We were in Pengo. There were two women there and said I should go beside the other. It was Seigrid so it made me afraid and I asked why. He said forget that and just go. Then we walked to the dining hall. He asked how things were going, and said my depression was normal. Then we bumped because of the ice and snow in the road and proceeded to push each other around for a while. This makes me very excit- ed and longing for more contact with him. I feel afraid to try then nothing happens. I asked about working on the construction with him. He would speak to Bernd Stein. Later he entered the dining hall and I waved. He made me feel very self-conscious with some funny remarks. So after breakfast Astrid, Goetz, and I went for a long walk near the woods and through the gravel pit area. I had a fun time playing with Tulla, Astrid's dog. We did not speak much, except about Winfred, who has group leader ambitions. He imagines himself able to handle Giovanni. He is very serious about being the leader. Astrid and I were in the Pengo reading Der Spiegel. [Some people, a couple who had lived on FH for several years before I got there, came to visit me in Boston last summer (1992). One of their "post-cult living experience" complaints was that the group didn't let them read anything from the outside world. That is, no newspapers, magazine, etc. This was com- pletely at odd with my memory and, going over the above writing, at odds with things written at the time. The Pengo was sort of a cafe. They served coffee, other drinks, and snacks. There were always reading materials, including the latest newspaper and magazines, on most of the tables. I can only describe their impression as some kind of separation reaction where they have to make the group into some sort of villain that has stolen some- thing from them--like years of their life. They tried to explain me as some kind of special case that was allowed to read things from the outside because I was only a guest. But again, my memory is quite at odds with that idea. At no time during my living in the group was there any lack of access to reading materials. The man in the couple often had problems with his back. He would spend some days in bed. He always had the latest books (he was reading a Nixon autobiography, I think, on one of my visits to his room), including the latest best sellers. Whenever stories came out about the group being a cult, said stories were copied and passed around to everybody. But there didn't seem to be any way to convince him that the reality, his experience, was any different from how he wanted to see it, these many years later.] Monday Morning, 12/4/78 I can't wake up. A massive depression. Breakfast and then back to bed. My throat is sore, chest/lungs ache, like a mild infec- tion. I am late for analysis with Brooke. I don't want to go. I miss the morning and afternoon SD. Sleep. Someone plays the piano. I don't feel it. It is as though I'm really somewhere else and only observing what happens here. Brooke says come at 2. I sleep through lunch. There is no hunger. Everything is overwhelmed by depression. I notice that my hunger seems to be gone. So far every meal here gets eaten but without the usual reason - hunger. Today is the first time I have that feeling. The first half of the SD evening was led by Cedric. Lou, who works in the Pengo Cafe was looking for a real man who could take her. After one or two failures Cedric decided I was the one to show her this real man. I was very nervous at first but eventu- ally grabbed her. it was very sudden and unplanned on my part - it was almost primitive but somehow humorous. So I had her - but what to do. We played and fondled but my memory is of a rising good feeling, excitement and pleasure. My depression disap- peared. My sore throat and congested lungs were not to be seen. Everyone says what we did and was very good and funny but it is a blur to me. A memory of grabbing her from behind, between the legs, and lifting her like a caveman who has just captured a woman. Analysis with Brooke, 2pm, Mon - she wants to know what happened to me earlier. I told her about my being sick, depressed, not wanting to see her. She asked me about my complaints, what I thought of the elitest first group. What I could say about her. I said it was obvious how she always seemed to look desparately to Otto for approval when in the middle. She admitted it was true. She talked about her working history in the group - laun- dry, carpentry, kitchen, garden, organizing tours, lecturing, group leader, analysis, a baby, and so on. That I would have to start at the bottom, like everyone, and demonstrate my ability. She managed to bite into me but I can only remember resenting it and wanting to do her in - and she saw this. Astrid and I went for a walk in the late afternoon. She spoke about how she wanted to really leave for the first time. And how I could go with her, but in a kidding way. There was a real edge to her voice however, and I believe she wants someone to go with her as she doesn't want to resume her last/old relationship. It seems I am a candidate. I told her about my own urges to leave but like her, they were only efforts to escape knowing more about myself. The evening turned into a discussion about the "sex orgy" in the guest group. Otto heard about it and wanted to know everything. He had all the culprits go in the middle together so everyone could look us over. He said how Giovanni's idea was the first thing he could speak about in a real way. Then he made some remarks about it. Next was the turn of each participant. And my turn. He asked how I like it - a little bit, it was ok. Then what part made me horniest - being tickled by Sofia. After the guests he offered more opinion. Saying that he and the group started that way but he was no longer interested. The most important was if everyone enjoyed themselves and that seemed obvious, so everything was ok. It was interesting to see the opinion of the leaders shift as Otto came out with his feelings on the subject. Astrid noted three changes of direction. Later in the bag meeting Giovanni was deposed as leader. The new hierarchy is: Sofia (leader), 2 - Goetz, 3 - Winfred, 4 - Annie, 5 - Astrid, 6 - Richard, 7 - Kathryn, 8 - Jan, 9 - Giovanni. Things got much better for me after going in the middle. My depression was wiped away. Annie asked me to sleep with her. We played awhile. I masturbated her and then myself to an orgasm. The end of this day except for a dream of being in some kind of warehouse. At the beginning were piles of deer hides and heads. There were two others with me. The items gradually became more consumer oriented - washing machines, etc, then we were near the back of a store. The other two were very reckless and got caught. I escaped and returned to an apartment where two women were living. I can't remember more. [Ah, that Lou in Pengo Cafe! Often I would go there just to watch her. From Sweden. Blonde hair, blue eyes, pale skin, and a member of the original Swedish Bikkini Team. And I got a chance to fool around with her in the middle. Everyone really did say it was very funny and interesting what went on between us. But many of my trips to the middle were a blank. It was often like having a giant bell rung beside an ear, or a roaring like standing beside a jet engine at full power. One could see but not see. It could seem to last forever or go by in a second. That particular trip to the middle went by like the snap of my fingers. FH was a very traumatic experience for many people who came to visit. Many tried to find someone to hold on to as they jumped out of the place. And it was often described as jumping into space, going back to the old world, to your past. A few days there would make you think you had returned to the womb, a womb that was rich, complex, warm, exciting, constantly overflow- ing with the things of life. And going home often felt like returning to a desert, a wasteland. So Astrid wanted somebody, anybody, to go with her. Well, probably not anybody, but some- body with whom she felt a kind of contact she knew would be missing once she returned home. Yes, I felt like going. I was pulled. Many times I was pulled by other women, but didn't go. This did work both ways. Men would also try to find someone. It was always a big event when two people really "found" each other at the same time, and fell in "love". There probably were some good matches made there. A lot of matches made before arriving, however, were broken by the experience. Marriages and otherwise.] {M: I've had a vision of a video based on FHC. It would be like an animated collage, involving (for feasibility) only the most elementary techniques of motion. It would use fragments of photos -- of people, objects landscapes -- and move these cutouts around as the text is narrated in voiceover. People would meet and part in an endless dance, forming ever new ephemeral configurations, both incomprehensible and charged with promise (a calleidoscope-like effect). Not simply photographs. What is needed is an atmosphere of grandeur, antiquity and monumentality. I envision a landscape of 19th century etchings of phantastic monumental architecture; the characters would be ancient statues; SD would take place in an ancient amphitheater, and so on. I guess what fascinates me about FHC is the contrast between the grandeur of purpose -- creating a new world -- and the tedious, petty loopings of the day-to-day proceedings. Also, the purpose is supremely rational, while the proceedings seem devoid of any rationality at all. Being of an age comparable to yours, I am also struck by an aura of antiquity emanating from the chronicle -- there is a peculiar archeological dignity to the text. This is the kind of psychological aura that expresses itself in glorification of "the old times". All this should be implicitly expressed by the video. RLG: Your remarks about an FH video brought back a 1977 memory. The Brattle Theater, Harvard Square. Dusan Makavejev, a Yugoslavian film director, was spending a year at Harvard as a visiting instructor/lecturer. Myself and a few who knew of FH, went to see "Sweet Movie" at the Brattle. It had scenes by some of the people from FH, including Otto, Teresa, Otmar, Bernd, Claudia, and so on. He was much cri- ticized in 1974 for his reference to the Katyn Forest mas- sacre of Polish Army officers. I saw the film again in 1989 at Harvard. He was not present but sent a statement that someone read before the film. At that point in time it became general knowledge that the Russians had been re- sponsible for the massacre and had been blaming in on the Germans all those years. Anyway, a very funny, very symbol filled, odd sequence of seemingly unrelated pieces, where one could see some of the very early FH "behavior". At the time of my first visit to FH all SD evenings were sound recorded. Transcripts would then be made from the tapes. The tapes and transcripts would then be copied and sent to all the various groups around Europe. One evening Otmar came in with a 16mm film camera and put an entire evening on film. Not long after the group got its first video camera and then every evening since was recorded on videotape. This would then be copied and sent to each of the groups. Your reference to "ancient statues" reminded me of one of my absolutely most favored SD evenings. I happened to be sort of the main character. The situation established was that the Vatican sculpture archives had just been opened to an American tv newsman who would be going around looking at the female nudes and commenting on each. So I was that American journalist! And all the women got to play the statues! And I should add that women, and men, on FH did not have the usual "body anxiety", guilt, shame, etc, of the average per- son. They had adult bodies but the reservations of your average under-three-years-old. So that night the world got to see and hear about sculpture that hadn't been seen, by anyone other than Catholic priests, for hundreds of years. Actually, there was some sculpture seen that night that not even the Vatican has seen! The room was warm for me that evening. I also remember it as one of the few evenings with myself in the middle, where I was relatively comfortable. Perhaps it had to do with others being so much more exposed than I was. I've got a small collection of videos of me in the middle at various times over the years. But they are all in European standard format. Well, there are pictures of me in the middle also. Your use of the words "grandeur", "antiquity", and "monumentality" strike me as so odd, somehow. It was such a small place (over the years new buildings did get bigger, however), always in the here and now, and the smallest of plans always came ahead of anything really big. Over the years there were frequent competitions for the design of new buildings. They would be talked and worked over for what seemed like forever. Then a plan would be made on the basis of the current social structure--then, inevitably, the final form would no longer be appropriate to the current social struc- ture. But they kept at it! The SD was seldom conducted outside. A room that could be comfortably filled was always used. There were times of lots of visitors when there was standing room only and you could feel the moisture in the breath of those around you. Your phrase "aura of antiquity" puzzles me. The writing from each day was actually done on the dated day. My comments in [ ] are made after typing in my notes written 15+ years ago. Are the bracketed notes what you refer to? My life there, in the begin- ning was definitely a lot loopy! I remember it as a kind of psychological coma that lasted for a couple of months. My head is still clearing from the experience. Every day I find myself waking up to something new from that time. Everything there was done on the basis of the "feeling" for it. It had to be talked to life or it didn't happen. You are also going to have to further explain "archeological dignity to the text". I was often very much caught up in my old times. But it was rare for the group or other individuals there to get so caught up in their, or the groups past. There were sometimes evenings where the theme might be about remem- bering the past, the early days of the group, and SD's about what led them to various social forms. But that wasn't often. The SD was very much an absolute here and now--created by people who all had a past and qualities brought to the moment. In my time there, and earlier days, the SD was the supreme part of every day. Everything was for that. There were subgroups that had there own SD times each day. Both guests and people who lived in the group. There was a tree-like structure of groups made up of 6 to 10 people who each had a leader. The leaders of each of these groups were in a group made up of other leaders, and so on up the structure hill. So you could end up in 2 to 5 or 6 SD events in a day. The group was always coming up with new explanations of what the SD did, what it accomplished and so forth. But, honestly, even to this day, who knows for sure? It was certainly energizing. It broke down a lot of the normal barriers the kept people apart. But on the other hand I know there were walls that did not get broken or even dented. And that goes for me and everyone there. A lot of irrational things got shown in the middle. People who showed them almost always got better from doing so. A burden lifted. A doubt made meaningless. On the other hand I sometimes think it was a specialized sort of giant social sieve. The people who could do well in that environment tended to stay. By the way, there were always more women than men in the group. More men came to visit and take a look. But more women stayed. One last thing for this endless rant: what is your opinion on my appending your commentary (devoid of identifying information), along with my responses, right after my bracketed remarks? M: OK, OK, I'll explain. What I see as "monumental", etc., is the ambition of the FH project, its philosophical/social/political program -- nothing less than to transform society, humanity. This is the overview embodied in your short and long summaries. This kind of striving, you must admit, is grand, and timeless, and monumental, and an essential feature of humanity. On the other hand, the text clearly conveys the feeling that the place was indeed small, that small plans were implemented before big ones -- exactly as you say. And although one can, emotionally, grasp the connection between the overall goal and the minutiae described in the text, yet on other levels the gulf between them is quite ridiculous. You give a foretaste of this in the "long" introduction: in building the new society, how does one deal with EVERYTHING? Every tedious routine detail of everyday life becomes problematic, and once that happens, the possibility of drowning looms large. The need to reorganize and rethink everyday existence unleashes its intolerable, malicious tedium, against which we are basically helpless. This is not just a "weakness" of FH. Even if one builds a new society "from above", it ultimately requires rethinking and re-implementing the everyday infrastructure, which then usually turns out to be inadequately supported by the big overall design. In every area of endeavor, there is a constant war to the death between the natural grandeur and effortlessness of thought and the dullness, sluggishness, unmanageability of the physical implementation. My perception of "antiquity" and "archeological dignity" is connected to the fact that the text is so much in the spirit of the 60s. It does not have to do with the text's own relationship to time, but with the fact that it is so unmistakenly a historical document. Like in an archeological dig, one discovers this object out of the past, which, to the discoverer, is laden with alienness, mystery, distance, but which, internally, is still vibrant with its own present, and oblivious of its own antiquity. This is even more striking in the case of objects where, as in the case of FHC, there is a purposeful, enhanced desire to live fully in the present. The archeological analogy attempts to articulate the impact of the FHC text upon a certain kind of outside reader, in 1993; this impact would naturally be very different both from what FHC means to you and from the spirit of the text itself. Yes, you are free to introduce chaos into FHC by including any remarks of mine you choose. I have seen "Sweet Movie" only once, many years ago -- so I remeber the spirit, but none of the details. I don't think my viewing took place in 1977, and I don't think it was at the Brattle. A few years later, I would say, and at the Modern Times Cafe.} Tuesday, December 5, 1978 I have written nothing since Sunday afternoon. It has been too much. So, a short group meeting, we elect Giovanni temporary group leader. I think, Aha!, this will fix his wagon, and he will learn how stupid he is. But the opposite results. He has an idea for the group - that we all come together naked and maybe fuck. Ok, later before Pengo maybe. I go back and forth. We have Sunday sauna. Then the evening. Otto talks about money again. Many who have given money talk about it and others say what they think of it. So after Pengo we are in the guest room. Somebody remembers our plan. I was reluctant to start and fol- lowed everyone else. Kathryn and Annie refused and went to bed. Seigrid left the room. So we have Sofia and Astrid and 5 men. We lie together in the middle just touching. I am still a little anxious but it is fading. Then Winfred and Sofia start to fuck. I go over behind them and spread their legs to see what's going on. Goetz comes to help. So we are spreading their asses apart to see and Winfred goes soft and can't do it. This makes me a little horny. Then back to a pile. Now Giovanni and Sofia are starting to fuck but it is not so interesting. Then Sofia comes to me but I am intimidated and can't get an erection. She rolls over on top of me sits on my tummy with my legs up as a back rest. I start to play with her cunt and she begins to tickle my crotch. We become hysterical. Then Giovanni comes to her and she sucks on his prick. There are the three of us in a classical pornographic pose. We win first prize for the night. That is the end of the activity and we talk about it for an hour. I notice my horny feelings coming out only sometimes. I still hold back. It is like hating someone you love or want to love - then holding back to hurt them - in any event, doing just the opposite of what you want or what would give me (and the other person) pleasure. This writing feels so hypocritical and elusive. I can't get a handle on what is happening. My writing does not say as much or as well as the beginning. Only simple nonsense occurs to me. Why can't profound, articulate, deep, meaningful phrases pour from this conduit to my soul? More romantic nonsense. For a moment I fancied myself a poet. I hear the sound of pianos. They go most of the time. People teach each other little melo- dies. And so Sunday night I felt not so bad. I slept beside Kathryn but she was away. [It was very funny for me to type the above orgy scene. I start- ed to laugh and had to stop typing for several moments, several times, as the scene returned to my mind. Orgies are not that rare an event. It is something that a lot of people have partic- ipated in, and certainly many more have thought about it. But such events are, most times, very heavy, meaning laden scenes. The above orgy, the first and only one I attended on FH, was actually quite funny and pleasant. I didn't get any of the "real stuff", but enjoyed myself anyway. This may have been the first time that happened since my arrival in late November. And that was the high point for Giovanni. He never got along any better. He never became a group leader again. He couldn't accept a lesser position.] Tuesday, December 5, 1978 I do not get up for breakfast, sleeping till just before the course. Astrid tries to get me up. Another time I am asleep and Sofia and Astrid, at different times, come and kiss me and talk to me very softly to wake me up. Astrid tries to pull me out of bed or take my covers. Finally I let her. Claudia leads this morning. Only the guests are there as tomorrow officials will visit to investigate and determine if we will get building per- mits, so everyone else is cleaning the grounds. Our theme seems to be the struggle between men and women but becomes the battle to get others to you. Kathryn breaks down and cries. When we all go in the middle to try different characters. Yelling and cursing, hugging and kissing. She can't stand it. She says she doesn't feel anything with us. It becomes obvious soon that she is resisting feeling something. Claudia says I should go to her, dance a little, talk to her. She accepts me more than Winfred. We all go in the middle and Claudia has the men take one woman and do what we want. I sleep most of the afternoon. Astrid trys to get me to the afternoon course but I sleep instead. She later says it was boring as Teresa made a hierarchy of the visitors group. Supper, more sleep. Astrid again tries to get me up for the evening SD. I go reluctantly. Pengo starts with Martine who says she is very afraid of Otto as he is the first man who has never wanted to do her bad. This starts her crying. Then Otto comes in and plays beating her up. All the time she makes no resistance. He holds her hands behind her back, pushes her head back, punches her in the stomach. He gives an incredible, accurate impression of violence with nothing happening. He also chokes her. Then Vera gets up but she is stuck, can't go anywhere, is stubborn and won't sit down. Otto has Goetz carry her out. She returns. He has teresa talk her out. She returns. Then the Otto suggests a glass of cold water. This turns into the evening. So maybe a glass of water will do it. He orders one, then another just to be sure. It is not yet clear that he will really do it. I find myself excited but wondering what this leads to. So Otto decides two big men will hold her. Then there is the problem of who will get splashed. Next he decides to do it on the count of ten. He starts twice but get interrupted. Then the water and shrieking. Half a glass is left. He has her go in the next room and pour it on herself. Otto spoke about her masochistic behaviour and how in a normal situation her stubbornness could have led to a catas- trophe. But here we could play with it. Many people here would not be able to tell when play ended and violence began. Vera had many chances to say no or let someone else go in the middle. She decided to play it out. The situation reminds me of the guru from California who carried play into violence. Who thought throwing an 8 year old child in the cold shower, against his will was good for him. Everyone but me was paralyzed or went along with it. I am fearful of being in a situation where I could not tell the difference or be unable to act against it - or act against nothing. Otto was very good at getting near the edge. I could feel myself growing panicky and then relaxing a number of times. Again Otto developed his opinion over a period of time and the first group seemed to roll with the punch. This brought up my fear of the California sect that did suicide. How can I tell if this is any different? Otto says he want to help no one, only that people enjoy their life. Everything for that end is ok. Dogmatic positions are foolish if they make you miserable. Violence toward any end is counter productive and senseless. Otto says any situation where people enjoy themselves, and there is no harm to anyone else, is ok. It is important to look at each situation as it occurs, and ask, "is everyone involved ok?", is everyone enjoying themselves, is anyone doing anything to prevent another from enjoying themselves? But at the same time I have murderous feelings toward Otto, and Brooke yesterday. I imagine the village building project will fail, that people will stop coming to FH. I am going to fewer SD's. My participation is decreasing. Abbi, the head bookkeeper, asked how long I was staying. They are thinking of buying a computer and may want me to help. I immediately start thinking of the fantastic things I will do and how everyone will admire me for them. But then I realize how my enthusiasm (or hysteria) may cause me to bite off more than I can chew. But it also presents a possbility for me to do something concrete and practical for the group. So I will have to approach this from every side and try to notice when I get carried away or when I am so cautious that no progress is made. But it will also present me with many opportunities to make contact, communicate with people. Many I would normally be unable to reach. But maybe it will work out that we won't really need one at all. I asked Astrid to sleep with me. She played yes and no, but finally said we should sleep next to each other. So we ded and I fucked for the first time here. It was very good. [It was so good that it is like something good that happened just yesterday. Astrid was a model, going on 32, who had her best money making days behind her. But she also had a lot of experi- ence and put it to good use with me. It will take a long time for me to have an orgasm, she assured me. Mine didn't take long at all as she ministered to my need from above. I gasped some- thing like how it was not possible for me to hold back and, as people in another culture might say, went. She found herself unable to restrain herself and immediately followed. Afterwards I suggested we do something like that in the morning. She was all for it. But morning came and the right kind of feeling was no longer between us. She avoided looking at me and left later that day. Never saw her again.] {also not RLG: Your F...(sp?) Chronicles are fascinating. . Were you really there? or is this a fictional account or is your intro the only fictional part? I'm from the AIDS generation and can't imagin being that innocent and brave. RLG: FHC: yes, I was really there. It started in the late 60's. The fictional intro was just an experi- ment to see if I could make it plausible as a work of science fiction. What do you think? Did it work? There was no AIDS problem till 1981. And then it was considered a male homosexual problem. They stopped the guest groups in the summer of 1983. They were very practical and realistic about STD's. Because of very strenuous hygiene practices they reduced their rates for this kind of health problem to around 5% of what is normal for the educated middle-class! And the last case of Syphilis I know about was around 1983. And you know it didn't stop in the outside world. They had a policy of testing EVERYBODY once a month when I lived there. They were not the least bit innocent. And they were not brave--complete cowards, and since 1974 or 75 they tested new group members for EVERYTHING one could be tested for! Their demands on members in this area would be seen as Draconian by the average person. But then they never had the STD rates of the average person! It was a trade-off. What is still not apparent to the general public is that there is actually a cure for this disease today. Let me know if you want to here more about this. also not RLG: Wow....I guess I wouldn't want to live there as I hate blood tests (too many last year when I was ill...my arms still hurt). Well I finished UG in 1984...When I got married -- had a brief law requiring an AIDS test with the Syphilis test (1984 again).. So ------- and I knew we were fine...not that we ever wanted anyone else after that....well gosh I sure am getting personal here. I find the FHC fascinating...its a glimpse into a different reality. Actually, its more like I imagined college would be before I actually got there and realized it wasn't like it was in my parents day 8). I have two M.S. one in Library and Information Science and one impending in Computer Assisted Instruction. I am a reference librarian...and I do wear my hair in a bun a lot to keep it out of my way. RLG: The testing was not via blood every month. There are some things where you use a comb and look through body hair, or behind the ears. A whole other set of tests can be done with a simple swab of various body openings, etc. So blood tests were not frequent be- cause they were more complicated and costly. But by testing as many people as possible, for a wide range of things, you get a picture, not unlike what the CDC tries to do with diseases, except for AIDS, because of its political nature, in order to keep tabs on the population at large. To this day there is still no good cross-section of testing being done, continuously on a representative sample of the US population. As a consequence it continues to expand in a largely still unknown way. Golly, yes, you were getting personal there. FH was a big experiment in doing just that. No barriers to know- ing another person. No privacy in the conventional sense. But no hiding of the terrible things that people do to each other, either. No battered wives or abused children. Bad behavior got a lot of scrutiny. I once proposed a thought experiment to someone of FH. It was for each person to remember back to their first friend in first grade. Ask yourself about what is that person's condition/situation today. It was my hypothesis that the people who ended up on FH, in spite of being con- sidered members of a cult, did not produce the kind of sleazy newspaper headlines that came from some personal horror that their counterparts in the outside ended up living, or dying, through. I know of one suicide on FH, over my 15 years of association, and probably about 2,000 people. There was no cheating in the sense that people on the outside experience it. So no di- vorce, etc. But there were tradeoffs, and they are in the FHC. What part of college did you imagine FH to be like? That has me puzzled. And just what was it like in your parents day? That has me intrigued! also not RLG: My parents and my upbringing somehow led me to believe that when I got out of my tiny tiny little town the great world out there was going to be full of adventure and cool people and people that truly listened and who would be constantly after my body and well....I'm getting too shy even for e-mail. I went to the U of -- which was 1100 times bigger than the town I grew up in. I met a lot of cool people and found one person that truly listens to me and is after my body...and well I guess I'm not very brave. I tried to run with a group of people for whom drugs and sex was a way of life...on my 19th birthday I just decided to lose the whole bunch...I never met such a bunch of idiotic thoughtless...and that's what the world is full of. We should start an electronic FH. With real adults and a real philosophy? Boy you sure are easy to type to...I'll be quiet now.8) p.s. my parents marched in anti-war protests and I met many of those folks growing up...My parents gave me the impression or? I don't know that these folks were somehow superior critters and were...I guess I should write my memoirs 8). RLG: Your parents were right. Most of the adventure and cool people are not in the town you grew up in. Cody, Wyoming, for instance, for me. For its size, it was relatively interesting. United States Senator, one of the Hunt Oil company brothers, Henry Coe, Husky Oil company owner & president (where a servant brought me and Bill, and the other cub scouts milk and cookies, after going for a swim in this huge gorgeous pool up top a big hill), and scads of rich and famous summer tourists and artists (Jackson Pollack was a police officer, and lived in Cody, before moving to NYC). So I know small towns. But it was no Cambridge/Boston. My mother called me earlier this evening to tell me that my newphew Bruce and his girlfriend made me an uncle for the second time a few days ago. My brother Carl still lives there. I never did find myself in the drug and sex scene. But did manage to become a convicted felon for violating Selective Service laws (failure to appear for induction), became an unwed father, excommunicated from the Mormon Church, and... Well, my family was shocked to say the least. Even today they don't really know much about my FH experience. They certainly know the results of a chaotic society where no- body makes real attempts to answer the kinds of questions you, and millions of young people anxiously sought out answers to through drugs, sex, rebellion, religion, and all sorts of variations. FH struck me as the most genuine attempt. Never had people listened to me so intently, nor had anyone ever reflected my own voice back to me so strongly! And there were people there who also wanted my body. But for a long time I could not accept that. It always struck me as so ironic. So I find a place unlike what I never found, and then refused to believe it. It was a bit of time before that knot in my head began to unwind. Somehow I don't see it as brave to run with the drug and sex crowd. It would have been brave had you said how there is more to life than this and why don't we start making some of it? FH had a small number of children within two years of their start. There were lots of idotic thoughtless people on FH from the beginning and for many years. An Electronic FH? An idea, certainly. So where does one find those real adults? Do you consider me one? But what about my notorious past and all the people who think me a jerk, a devil, a waste of time (you will especially hear from these people in The Cambridge Chronicle--on FH someone might call you a jerk, but it was for something right then and now, and not the past, or what they thought you MIGHT do in the future). Some of the people on FH also didn't like me. But they were free to make whatever associations they wanted. It wasn't necessary to do anything with me. Everyone could find some number of people who had the right feeling for them. But it was very important to find more than one--people and their feelings change. They don't stay, and can't be held constant. Even over the net I find it no trouble at all to piss people off and have no more contact with me. Fortunately, it is a medium somewhat like FH, and it is possible to find soulmates. Philosophy? FH never started out with a philosphy. They were Action first, then think and talk about it. They didn't discuss common property. They threw everything into the pot and started out. They began very quickly with Free Sexuality also, but began with people engaging in a lot of subterfuge. There was a time when some number of people simply declared that they would fuck with whoever wanted them. The hierarchy developed after a number of years. But they just declared it--then worked out the problems. Hey, you think you yammer on and on? Look up. Nearly a mountain of text hanging over your head. One last thing: those memoirs, and some possible titles... Tiny Town Tart (Philadelphia Enquirer) Growing Up In Paducah (Old New Yorker Magazine) Runnin From Paducah (Current New Yorker Magazine) The - Chronicles (Atlantic Monthly) -- Trips Then & Now (Rolling Stone) . . . I don't see any reason why the first chapter shouldn't arrive in my mailbox by tomorrow, Saturday at the latest. Do you? also not RLG: I keep trying to start my memoirs...but I think I'd better do it in private first..I think the story needs to be reworked or its going to come out pretty negative. My early life (I won't even say childhood) is pretty negative. Your story starts as an adult and you've had lots of time to think of the narrative. Its too fresh and I don't feel comfortable just writing down and letting people see yet. I think it might be better as fiction and then they could make a move of the week or sitcom about it...depending on how I decide to emphasize. 8). I think you orgy scene was much better than the fantasy movie stuff. I expect that's what really happens (okay so some of us tripped and tried it...but we kept getting lost and just ended up hugging each other and watching the trip go by 8). What is Sweet Movie? It is a little strange...having turned 30 this year I've felt very old..now you and the commenters are talking about things that happened when I was in grade school as part of your adult-hood..you've made me feel young.} Wednesday, December 6, 1978 Analysis with Brooke. She had me do a number of SD type exer- cises. Stand up and make a speech with just sounds, no words. Crawl around on the floor and make sounds like a chicken, owl, pig, a baby crying for its mama. I can't see my character or play with it. Only indirectly do I know something is wrong. I have an odd feeling, shame, guilt, hurt, but can't directly connect it with my behavior, not behavior but character that produces behavior patterns. She keeps asking me to say something about my character but I am too inside of it with no distance, except rarely. I have a feeling about it but can't quite come up with the right words. The closest I come is to realize that I resist making steps she suggests and thus avoid confronting any part of it. We had a spelling bee where she tried to get me to spell words descriptive of my character. A dream about shooting Otto by accident. Counting to 10 with several types of emotional emphasis. [Much of my memory of the early days on FH are of being in a sort of sensation coma. There was awareness of everything around me but a kind of numbness--other than a kind of constant emotional roar, like being under a waterfall or standing next to a jet engine running at full power. The first few weeks were spent, or so it seemed, sitting or lying very still and seeing everything swirl around me. Like growing up isolated from all human beings then plopped down in the middle of a 24-hour a day New York City Times Square. And always the sensation of being left behind. Nobody waited for me. Come along now, or be left behind. The chances to go along never stopped. Like being on a merry-go- round where a brass ring is constantly available. I had a terri- ble sinking feeling on first hearing about FH. This is what many of the people I've known over the years have been talking about and trying to start for themselves. The bad feeling was that as soon as they heard about it, they would all jump in, and I would, once again, be left behind! But that never happened. Nobody, not a single person I knew, ever participated more than once or twice. Most never came to a single lecture. Almost nobody read any of the literature. My fear was completely irrational and proved to have no basis in reality. The biggest problem always seemed to be the hierarchy. People always wanted to have a democracy, with power shared by all, equally. But it never worked out that way in reality. Years of association with many groups in the Boston area led me to the conclusion that the power struggles would go on in spite of the ideal of equality. Those who lost out would move on or form another group. Those that ended up in leadership positions ended up doing most of the work. But there was always a hierarchy--it was just hidden till you came to see it from experience with a particular group.] Friday, December 8, 1978 8th analysis with Brooke. She wants me to criticize her. We take turns. She calls me names. This creates a lot of anxiety in me, nervous agitation. I pace and wring my hands. There is a strong desire to flee the room. My ability to describe emotional states seems to be diminishing. Perhaps a defense against going further. And now I'm lost for saying more about it. I am begin- ning to feel my disgusting character, my self-made hopelessness, my self-made pity. The desire to be a little boy and have my mother care for me is very strong. I wait for someone to call me into the middle, for someone to tell me to get up, for someone to tell me to go to the SD course, for someone to tell me to go eat. I keep hoping someone will notice me and mother me. Many of the women, and some men, do that. But even they notice it after a day or two and will no longer play that game. Ans says she feels the same about her writing blocks - it means something she doesn't want to face is coming up. I tell Brooke how she looks at Otto a lot for approval of what she says. How she has a hurt look, how she always tries to defend herself from his criticism. How she tries to make nasty remarks about the SD's of others to Otto. I left out the worst criticism of her. I could almost not say what I did. I had a constant feeling that I was wrong, or that if not, she would step all over me. My sore throat and fever and headache and scratchy sinuses are a real cold now. Event though her criticisms of me are mostly humorous it still stirs me up. I notice the arising of a desire to fight it. I have not gone in the middle for a day or so - not even with others. My fear of the middle is turning more to feeling unable to do anything, stupid, not having anything to say, the sound of my voice even disturbs me. I seem to remember less and less. Or maybe she is closing in on my character, about to put her finger on me. Maybe I am resisting more and in some way preventing more from coming out. I can do a little more than when we began but it seems like a shallow "more". There is not as much silence as in the beginning. But it doesn't feel like much of an improve- ment to me. "Stand up and make a speech" still turns my thoughts to mush. Saturday, December 9, 1978 Otto gives a brief history of the rise and fall of various ideas in the AAO. Then he speaks about how our consciousness revolu- tion has failed in another way. Namely that FH now has a small elite that lives well and a large group of proletariat workers who have little opportunity to develop themselves. Now there will be a push to have many of these people leave to start groups or move to new smaller groups. They will then have more chances to develop themselves. On FH there is little to do but work. I am in Pengo and someone has just started a tape of old Rock & Roll music - Breaking Up Is Hard To Do, etc. Peter sits next to me and asks where I've been. Then he leaves. He turns back toward me and I imagine it is to talk more with me. But he only gets his coat. Lou is suggestively dancing and singing along with another song. Now some Italian music and Giovanni starts to sing along. Sunday, December 10, 1978 Seigrid has returned. She wants to move into the group with her husband and 4 children. Everyone gets up to speak about how stupid she is to drag her family here, after selling their busi- ness and home, without them knowing anything about FH. I work for the first time today - as a dishwasher in the kitchen. I sleep with Ans tonite. We play games for a long time then fuck some then go to sleep. The sauna helps my cold but I am coughing and sneezing a lot. RLG: What do you have to say about the writing so far? Still Not RLG: as for the writing, i have been reading what time will permit here at work as it comes in. i find it very fascinating. it makes me think about MY life more. i always have wondered what i would write if i took journal at certain points in my life (something i NEVER do). i dont regret NOT having taken journals, but reading your stuff has made me think about past times in my life. actually, i have taken down a few pages of notes in par- ticularily maddening times of my life. they mostly have to do with women or when life seems overwhelming to the point i dont know what to do. i bet *IF* i could find all my writings of this type, they would amount to about 5 pages. but surely would be some strange stuff. i enjoyed what little i did read and want to read more. now it will be easy for me to get hard copies of what you put in the dir, so this will allow me to take some home with me and really read it. until then... thanks, Also Not RLG: Richard, Whats up with the FH chronicles? I've missed them. Hope all is well with you. Monday, December 11, 1978 Otmar goes to Vienna today and me also. I think he will leave at 10am but we don't leave till after 2. It is too late, all the banks are closed, I walk around in the cold, coughing, miserable, feeling horny about many of the women I see. Perhaps its because its safe and there's no possibility of anything happening. Otmar will stay later so Catsou, Willy and I go to Neusiedl on the bus. We wait in a small cafe/bar for a ride from FH. An attractive women is sitting 2 booths away, she glances at me often, and I at her. I start to fantasize about going home with her and fucking. I won't go back to FH, don't want to, but I fight it. We have dinner. She and I look at one another for an hour and a half. Then we go. I have a frantic feeling about going back. Lao is sitting next to me in Pengo. I imagine saying something to him but think he will only criticize me for being withdrawn today. Then I fantasize about responding to his criticism - ad nauseum. I seem to be rejecting every positive approach made to me here. Someone wants to fuck and I go limp. Someone wants to talk and I curl into a little ball. You are a crazy little boy, don't you know that? Someone asks something and I freeze - everything in my head turns to mush or I just can't say anything. Pengo speeches are half over when we return, but the subject seems to have been Giovanni. He was told he must leave several days ago - after physically assaulting several people. He holds the middle for 3/4 hour. Then he is the topic for the rest of the evening. But he must still go. He is unable to overcome his aggressions in reality. Doing it in SD is not enough. The evening ends with everyone in the middle acting like Giovanni - yelling, screaming, pushing, threatening! [One of my fears became the thought that I was next. Giovanni was the worst guy in the group. I was the second worst. Once he was gone... It would then be my turn. That never happened, of course. It was just my feelings about myself.] {New Fan: Tuesday, June 8, 1993 You are Richard, is that right? I have been avidly reading your journal entries. I have been keeping a journal since the age of 13 (I am 31), and have recently wondered, like one of your other readers, whether I could "do anything" with them. My aunt and very good frind Lucile was writing her memoires when she died, and I am in charge of their completion (she entrusted them to me before she lost consciousness). I wqant to incorporate my own memoires and make it a generational thing. I love the voyeristic experience of peering into someone's most personal entries, and I think mine will make good reading, at points. My question for you: Are you selecting the "best," or simply transcribing the entire thing? I'm wondering whether there are pages and pages of boring, sophmoric drivel interpersed between the entries of yours which have seen. One more thing: Will you please send me your introduction again? I want to send it to a friend, and I delet- ed it because I was running out of space. I have since trans- ferred the rest to a hard disk so I can keep it. Ah, and yet another thing. Have you ever heard of RC? Co-coun- seling? Thank you so much for this; I have really enjoyed it and it's helping me to think about my own personal work. Richard- (are you French? Richard Charon sounds so very French to me.) It is so great to get a little bit of input/feedback about my writing and my project, Lucile's memoires. I am a neurobiolo- gist, and the people I spend my days with generally aren't think- ing about this sort of thing. Also, I have been in a post-mourn- ing (or maybe during-mourning, still) state of utter blocked procrastination since December, when she died. It's refreshing to start up again thinking about it in a positive way instead of in a jeeze-I-can't-stand-to-be-reminded way. Yes, you may include my comments in your project, and please if you happen to think of me any more, and have any more suggestions about my stuff, let me know. As to the FTP site, I haven't tried to follow your instructions, being a net neophyte, I didn't even try. In fact, Idunno what one is, even, this FTP thing.} Tuesday, December 12, 1978 Last night I slept with Annie. She reminds me of my sister, and just now I realize they have the same name! I've just called the US. Bill Zwicker answered. He believes his house is sold. He has divided the land into smaller pieces for sale later. He may leave for California tomorrow. He wants me to say hello to Ava, his analyst. Also Bernd Stein. We spoke about new trends and some of the people here. He took my messages and will pass them on. I lie here in my depression and hope that someone will do something about. Often someone tries but it is never enough so I wait some more. I stubbornly resist every positive attempt by others to do something for myself. I wait some more and resent their not feeling bad like me. I imagine this phase will end soon and I will go on to make great progress. And always the NEXT time we do SD. Annie says I am a little boy and don't want to admit I am a little boy. Just now I notice that my writing is getting smaller or do I imagine this too. Earlier today I mas- turbated while fantasizing about the woman in the Neusiedl cafe. Why don't I take advantage of what's here? None of the women here would reject an open advance from me, but that woman would most likely do so. I have written 42 pages so far. Four aver- age/day at the beginning and now only 1 or so and some days none. I stayed in bed most of the day. 6 or 7 people tried to dig me out, but to no avail. They tried all kinds of tricks. Some of them I could not even look at. I kept my eyes closed or covered. Upstairs is the sound of music, clapping, singing, now Bernd Stein. I am afraid to walk in. My paranoid feelings spring up. I imagine that everyone will look at me or that Otto will ask me to go in the middle - a common fantasy. Where can I find the handle to myself? But I know. It is only to come out of myself, not to hide, to express my feelings, to trust the others, to not be afraid of dying on going in the middle. And, like Giovanni and Seigrid when they go in the middle, I want everyone's com- plete attention. Maybe I can get this by being the most stubborn and resisting person here. A few more days and everyone will know I am the most stubborn. I did not go to work today. I noticed the time too late. I do not feel guilty now but did earlier. Now the others are coming back from the evening. First Kathryn, then two of the newest men guests. K goes to bed, one of the men plays piano. I've been eating less bread and farting less. Annie comes in and says shit about something in French. Now more are here but I can't bring myself to change my position and look at them. Now I get paranoid that they all slyly look at me. So I make a quick glance around. Nothing. Perhaps they were prepared. Wednesday, December 13, 1978 Today I pay for my stubbornness. My shit has turned to soup. Four times by noon. I vomit twice, headaches, cough, an ache in every cell. Pills for this, for that, but nothing helps. I am delirious much of the time and can hardly move. In the evening, after Pengo, I get up in the group, wearing my bathrobe. Kathryn comes to me and wants to dance. She removes my robe at the same time. We dance some more. I push my prick back between my legs and it makes me look like a woman. I'm not able to do more. A sense of panic, and what can I say, holds me back. But I feel much better. There is a pulsing pleasurable sensation in my body. More of my illness goes away, with my tension. I will sleep with Ushi but we can't fuck as she is in quarantine with the Heidelberg group. Two big dreams. One is a murder mystery and myself and two other try to solve it. Now I forget the first. In Pengo Otto creates an image of FH as a lifeboat after the titanic (world) sinks. {A Reader: We went to Florida for a wedding this last week..we saw people we knew from association with a group that all lived in a coop house. We traded memories of meeting and interactions between us and other people that we knew. It was a very...I don't know exactly...mind opening experience for me. The recol- lection of my friends of meeting me and who they thought I was back then was *so* different from what I remember and who I thought I was within the group...I felt like an outsider..just there because my husband is the kind of person who make friends easily and well. But they remember me as an integral member of our group...and much to my surprise were very happy to meet again and talk. One even came to a presentation I gave at the U of ---...because he was interested in what I do now in my life. The meeting of my friends made me think of you and your feeling that you were outside in the FH... Richard: One of the things that happened on FH on a daily basis for many years was the kind of reflection that you describe as having happened only many years after the initial experience. On the other hand, it was not sustained. It has not been a practice for some years. Maybe it is not something that people can stand. Suppose you had learned those things, how others saw you, when the coop was going? Do you think you would have stayed in the group longer or left sooner? A Reader: Probably would have left sooner...because some of their feelings were distinctly sexual and I couldn't have dealt well with that at 19. Now is much easier.} Thursday, December 14, 1978 I am in the middle again for another SD. I am an elegant crip- ple. My whole body gracefully distorted. It excites me a lot. A dream about Adele. We (me, her, C) live in a big house. A hippy visits; the dog gets lost; more people visit. There is a police raid for drugs. I know everyone there but the hippy. Somehow I avoid getting caught and try to solve the crime and rescue the others. In Pengo Otto has the theme of blackmail. How people get others to love them - indirectly. I feel he is talking to me. Others say the same. He has an uncanny ability to speak so that you believe he is talking about and to you. I feel guilty and ashamed as he describes what I do to get love. During the afternoon SD Claudia spoke about how her father con- trolled his family. This reminded me of my stepfather and how he would tell stories about his day at work or past hunting trips. Great detail and with him as the good guy. He would go on for hours and seemed to know what things he could do to prevent others from getting a word in or having anything intelligent to say. I feel myself carrying this same state here. I don't know when or what to say and am apprehensive about any possibility of my interrupting. But here, in reality, I have many chances, but project this past onto the current situation and act as though I were in a situation that's 20 years gone. Friday, December 15, 1978 I spend a lot of time in the middle but only to help others act out their sexual fantasies. I'm in a motorcycle gang, a reli- gious group, a bunch of masochists who get beaten, etc. I get to fuck several women and fondle some others. Today I work 2 hours in the kitchen. Otmar helps me find a bank where I can use my credit card. I think of California and being on the beach with some girls. I don't want to be doing the dishes. But two people say I'm doing a good job. Otto's theme for the evening is fanta- sies. Two people he has in analysis tell theirs. Yo wants to be carried by four men, on a throne, dressed in white, with some cheering and throwing flowers. She will pay for everything. John has been to a peep show in Vienna and wants one here. Otto says why not. Then he won't have to go to Vienna. 10 women will dance naked in a room where he looks in through a small window. Others will play music and serve refreshments. This seems to be a new trend in the analysis and Otto suggests we try it. Who knows what will happen. He says it is something like his days as an action artist. He was able to live out his fantasies. Sofia wants me to sleep with her. We have fun playing but I can't get an erection. I tell her about how many things about my feelings get turned upside down here. How I can't accept the openness and love that people have here. How I turn off these things in myself. I dream about being in the 4th bag (Bewustsein Arbeits Grouppe--Consciousness Working Group). {A Reader: hello. just saw your email/upload of another entry from your ever increasingly (to me) convoluted life. if nothing else, all this reading... what i do read anyway ... helps me appreciate the weirder moments in life even more. maybe "weird" is not such a good word -- better to say "seemingly everyday, but just a bit off somehow". not the bla- tant weird. i have always prided myself with the fact that i dont take a lot for granted, so to squeeze even another drop out of the great thrill of the thing called "life" is a wonderous thing indeed. maybe you will help open the eyes of others who just go thru the motions and dont notice anything. altho, i suspect those types would even have made it this far (i.e. to your texts) .. but who knows? urp ooook. keep it up!} [Richard: well, it is true that my adventures have been a bit more than the average persons. On the other hand, as you get older (you are about 21 now, aren't you?), you will be hearing more stories about the internal life of people you have known quite a while, and they will get VERY convoluted. Perhaps you may begin to feel that about your own as you try to find a way through life, and to have something useful to do, be loved, and what ever else there is... Can you think of what else there is? Anyway, the task of getting/finding those things is enormous. There are some truly strange and unbelievable compromises that one ends up making. My experience on FH showed me a lot about my difficulties in life. My problem finding those two very impor- tant things. And on these pages the whole gnarled, twisted, decomposed, rotten, hair-ball-from hell thing gets hung out to dry so you and my other readers can get a real good, a real close look at it. And like some literature, some pictures, some smells, it can be unpleasant from time to time. But from still another point of view, bringing them out like this, with words, facing them directly, as I had to do in writing them originally, or now, some 15 years later, reading and writing/typing them again, they become more and more just a story. The weight of those times, those feelings, lifts from my shoulders and mind each time I read and write them.] Saturday, December 16, 1978 I work 3.25 hours in the kitchen today. Two people say I'm the best dishwasher because I get everything, and don't miss anything. Goetz just now says he's leaving for 3 weeks. I say I will miss him. I was about to write about the evening after Pengo where we were sitting around talking (everyone but me), and I felt a sense of closeness and security with the other (Goetz, Ushi, Winfred, Kathryn, Sofia). It was very comfortable. Now I notice a tenseness in my stomach and sadness. After Pengo I was looking out the window at emergency construction on the water system when Lou came up to me, pressed her back against my front, took my arm and pulled it around her and against her breast. I was a little shocked, a little ashamed, a little surprised. Only enjoying it for a moment. Then stopping it, jumping back. Lou apologizes, but not really, says something like "it won't happen again". Otto spoke about the little boy in everyone. Not the naive, infantile, curious, truth speaking, adventurous, pleasure seeking little boy. But the sullen, withdrawn, terrorist, sadistic, negative little boy. All the while I especially felt he was talking about me. More so than any other time. Herbert Stumpfl arrived today and he showed the positive little boy with Seigrid and some others. A dream where I can fly. Anxiety trying to avoid telephone wires, buildings. Sometimes I almost don't get into the air. There is no apparent reason. I try to show others how to do it. Sunday December 17, 1978 We paint a still life scene of fruits and a vase. My first time with water colors. I work in the kitchen 3.25 hours. My timing is not good and I barely get things done on time. 4 dreams. One is of 17th century, sailing ships. An American ship is trying to catch a British warship sinking American freight ships. They escape. Two is where I'm on a train going to L------- something in Texas. They are soldiers who have been wounded in a war. Three is me in a new, strange apartment. Three young boys keep trying to break in. I finally catch them. The bedroom has a glass floor over the owners bedroom. Four is me in a house through which trains must travel. I am panicked about getting a toy train fixed before the next real train comes along. FH feels very deserted today. We look forward to lots of guests. Otmar says 70 will be here. The guest group is now 6, not counting Klaus who often sleeps in a private room and Seigrid who always sleeps in a private room. She is at our club meeting and tries to tell us how good she is. But the opposite becomes obvious when she leaves. She is able to force herself in the middle and speak and move in an easily predictable way. My first mail today. The sauna makes me sleepy. I rest, masturbate, fall asleep and miss the evening. We elect Sofia the group leader. Monday December 18, 1978 Otto spoke about tragedy and how he used it to make amusement. What does it have to do with me? It is always about something that's done with. Nothing to do with right now. He prefers to be superficial and deal with things on the surface - now. Tragedy is to make fun of. Giovanni took nearly an hour of time with his tragedy. Everyone could see how he's holding onto it and making it the way he wants to be seen - a tragic figure. I dwell on tragic events in my own past in an attempt to gain attention and sympathy - oh you poor thing. How could he/she/it do such a thing to you. And I feel I have their attention. But then they want mine - and I get to hear their tragic stories. I am aware in a simple way that this is so but don't have more awareness of it. Not the kind of awareness that allows me to play it out. Tuesday December 19, 1978 Another dream about Adele. I go to visit her with Sam & Gladys (Adele's parents). She is living in an apartment like Hampshire Place. We go in. She is overweight. We talk about and joke about our sexual relationships. The SD evening is taken over by Segrid. She is drunk. She worked outside today for a family that has a wine factory. She apparently made passes at the owner, upsetting his wife. Tonite she wants to explain everything and run the evening. She won't let anyone else go in. Otto has two people carry her off. She return. Otto says we should talk to each other and ignore her. She continues. So Otto suggests we end the evening early. Everyone leaves. Earlier today I managed to get all my things in one locker, unpacked, etc. 10 seconds later Elka says all guests must move to the old Ulauber room. So, off again. I remember having a feeling of contentment and satisfaction - and then I get confronted with a completely new situation. Wednesday December 20, 1978 Today I go to Vienna again to try and get money. I've found a bank that will handle my Master Charge card. But - it's a failure the bank in Camb refuses credit. Meanwhile I see little girls on the street and fantasize about vio- lating them. Big girls I want to take me home with them - and then violate them. Or I imagine fucking in public but very carefully so nobody notices. I feel guilty about going to Vienna as Patricia was expecting me to wash dishes. I have forgotten to tell her about it. Abi and I visit two computer places to evaluate their systems. We stay too late and have to hurry back. We rush to the street looking for a taxi. We run here, then there. Finally we get one. At the station a bus is leaving the taxi driver chases it and stops in front to stop it - its our bus to Neusiedl. I jump out and in to the bus. The driver starts to pull away and leave Abi in the street. He finally stops. 10 minutes later the taxi driver stops the bus again. He has Abi's hat! We return late with two new guests. Thursday & Friday December 21 & 22, 1978 Another dream about Adele. We are talking about a new relationship but she wants to finish the old one first. I don't know how it works out. Wednesday December 27, 1978 Two analysis with Hansi Friday and Tuesday. In the middle Friday night. Work from 10am to 9pm on Christmas Sunday. Thursday December 28, 1978 I finally manage some order in my financial affairs. Pay Hansi 840 OS for two of 3 analysis. 3rd today. I talked about Otto and how he observes something and acts on it. A big thing was one evening it was raining. During the SD evening it stops, I notice it. It is warm. Otto turns and asks someone to open all the windows. At just the moment it stops. About how I notice obvious problems but say nothing. One was the entrance to the kitchen. It often turns to slippery mud. It seemed obvious that someone should alter the situation. Someone did a few days later - but I said nothing. Another was garbage for the pigs. Today Otto said that garbage was not being separated. I noticed this from my first day. Having grown up on a farm where we separated things. But Otto saw it and did something. I see these things often but say nothing. Last night I had an attack of stupidity. It swamped me like a wave. I felt panicked. It went away. I think about the hierarchy as a line of definite length from top to bottom. Then I imagine bending the line so that both ends meet. Presto - I am as close to Otto as anyone. Now I think of ways to get his attention. How I can do something for him. Several times I've had opportunities to do things for people. They are things that jump at me, like an electric shock. I see the chance to do something but often become panicky. Today I noticed that Achim, who has milk with his breakfast, had an empty cup. I was about to return it to the freezer but decided to ask if he wanted some before I did this. He did, and thanked me very much. A week or so ago Claudia left her coffee by the serving area while she did something else. Bam! I saw the chance and took it to her. She was very surprised and pleased. Last analysis I told her about a perverted idea that came into my head. I notice that these things come up differently now. Before they always seemed a product of my conscious thoughts. But now they pop up independently of the stream of thought. Like an out of focus image that suddenly becomes two images when focused. This happened to me in Vienna with some young girls. I would be aware of them. But suddenly alongside this awareness was the idea of fucking them. Then there was the evening last Thursday when Ami got up to speak about her perversions. She is 8+ months pregnant. I was watching and listening when the idea that she was not really pregnant but was only big from the pricks of the men she had fucked - having hypnotized them into believing their pricks were still there. Her intellectual explanation was that she was my mother who had stolen my prick but also that of my father. It took me half an hour to get this out as I was hysterical, sweating, very nervous, but excited. After I was calm but overcome by a feeling of helplessness as she now knew something important about me. I also talked about my father and stepfather. This brought me to Otto which caused me to cry. It began when I said how wonderful he was. How he seemed to be missing something that everyone else had. But missing this quality was positive. It was that he never seemed to be disturbed by my inability. Other people react with disgust, they are irritated, look away, ignore me completely, say something cutting, or something else. It depends on how much they identify with my problem. When Dave G was here it always made me feel ashamed when he was in the middle. He was very stiff, could barely move and always had intellectual reactions to what was going on - trying to explain things. His behavior was exactly how I imagine mine appears to others. Thus the sense of shame. I imagine myself to be a fool and idiot. An old idea comes back to me. I say - even though I'm the worst here, it doesn't matter. The others are only temporarily better - they will soon be gone, some of them longer, but I will last, be better in the end. For Christmas I thought of going to the house where Otto has his room, getting his attention, and, with candles in hand, singing. William, the only black here, has suggested that I speak to Harti about a job with the electrical work group. Dishwashing is not much fun. I'm getting sick again - also more stubborn - which causes me to be tense. Yesterday I had my first experience with Aikido. It is a defense oriented form of martial art. It was like learning to move in a different dimension - shifting to a new gear - magic. Reinhardt teaches it regularly. It was very exciting for me. I yelled a lot and was almost screaming hysterically. I learned the first movements very quickly. It was to escape when someone holds your arm at the wrist with both hands. I was eventually able to escape from him and managed to hold him. He said I was very good and probably stronger than him. I was not able to relax as much. He escaped twice at the beginning by relaxing completely by fooling or diverting my attention. But I was finally able to hold him and go with him. I could see that he was significantly changing the center of gravity of my hold so that all his force was at my weakest point. A second exercise was impossible for me. This was sitting on the lower half of our legs, facing each other then trying to push the other over backwards. He could push me over every time, but not the reverse. I rubbed all the skin from the top arch of my feet doing this. I was shaking with excitement afterwards. He said that I had finally found something here at FH and that I would make him my new master. I said that Otto was still number 1 but he could be number 2. Maybe he hopes to be a guru himself. I am sitting here just before Pengo wondering how to win some points by doing something for someone. Friday December 29, 1978 Achim leaves today. So another idea of mine fails. I told Achim about people in New York and Boston who might be interested in his music. My idea was to trade piano lessons for doing this. But that won't be. And I also learn that Aikido is leaving. He will go to Munich for 10 days, return here for 3 weeks, then go back "forever". Aikido seemed to be something I could be very good at. I find some places where I might do well and then the opportunity vanishes. Most of the day I feel on the verge of crying. I am constantly occupied with how stupid I am not to take a step to make things better for myself. I am having less and less contact with the women. I have the impression that some of them try to approach me but I respond with an unconscious reaction that pushes them away. They still keep trying. There is one person below me in the 3rd guest club. This cuases me to think about ways to make myself worse. But on the other hand I often have a fantasy about great SD's I might do. They appear for a few moments; I feel a stirring inside, then it is gone. I walk from guest house to the dining hall and hope nobody passes me. Then if there is someone, how to, or whether or not to, say hello or something more. I imagine walking, seeing someine, then walking off into the field. Otto has come into the Pengo Cafe and is talking with two workers from Neusiedl. I feel myself about to cry again. I find myself withdrawing from every opportunity. It seems that no matter what positive approach, or how it is disguised, I will be able to parry it, and divert it. Like the perfect martial arts master, I am able to defend against any blow. I wonder what Otto writes about. Hansi says he has a buzzer on his door so he can open it without getting up. Andreas, who knows Paul Trapp from the Geneva group, talks with me for a few minutes. He wants to know about Paul's inability to lead the group in Boston. He says how he too would be unable at his present state of development. Too chimney cleaners come in. Otto buys them beer and has them sit with him. Then Claudia and Otmar. I see Brooke in the parking lot while eating lunch. It seems a mystery to me what Otto could be writing. But he manages to speak in an intriguing, interesting way all the time. Now I just remember! Otto made a mistake last night. A long ash from his cigarette fell onto his pants. He had no ashtray handy. It was the second night that power was the theme. Not how to defeat an enemy but the power thta comes from knowing and then moving to fulfill ones human desires/needs. Otto spoke about his 15-20 years as an artist and how he now felt shame at having lived that way. It was in response to Achim and his song about leaving. Achim wants to be famous and rich from his art. Otto wished him luck but said the satisfied person would also have to fill his sexual needs, have social contact, be able to express his ideas and other things; then about how he was a loser in society so he started this group. During the evening I have these crazy impulses to jump up and do something. But I imagine that whatever I do will be crazy like Segrid, or Dora the night before. So I don't do it. It would only be stupid and aggressive. Claudia is here with Lilly and I think about my idea to tell her about the place in Philadelphia that helps brain damaged children overcome the damage. Then how I missed an opportunity to get her a chair a few moments ago. Somehow I am afraid to do this for her. I imagine she knows about it and will ignore me or tell me how stupid the idea is. I will tell Hansi and maybe she will pass it on. Last night after Pengo Bernd lost his hat and I was frantically searching for it. I had an idea to hide something belonging to someone and then returning it to get their attention and gratitude. People talked about how they got power. One person said she tried to remember everything and was then able to respond that way. This is one of the things I do. Other said he always said he would be hard with those below him and do positive little things for those above him. Bernd said he would listen with a lot of emotional sensitivity. Otto talked about having power by trying to meet the needs of people around you. Someone about how he bought a special lighter so he could light people's cigarettes. He showed how he did this and was very humorous. I bought some cigarettes and found a lighter which I use whenever anyone asks for a smoke or light. I spoke to Heidi, Jan's mother, about an idea about them. She should ask the guest group to help her care for Jan. This would help him get over being fixated on her and give her time to do more for herself. Group members would have a chance to experience more of what it means to live in a group. Namely, to learn about caring for children, and more of what a real group involves. I also have the idea that maybe the guest group could be involved in some other aspects of developing the FH community. The first stupid idea of this sort that occurs to me is that maybe there is a pile of 1 million rocks on FH that need to be moved to another place. Or something like that. Also, guests might have a special session where a FH person tells them about how things are being developed, then getting new ideas and information from them. New guests have more contact with the latest outside developments. Last Sunday night I fucked with Odil. Again on Tuesday or Wednesday night. I am feeling horny again but can't hold the feeling for long. It was strange the last time. Using a rubber doesn't seem too difficult now. Before it was hard for me to stay erect. Very strange. She wants a couple relationship, outside, with me. Three children and to live in the US. No thanks right now, I must say. She says to do whatever I want with her so I start to fuck her from behind but it doesn't work. Then she wants only love and for me to say "I love you". Why not! It is easy. Saturday December 30, 1978 I notice today that this is my 61st page of writing. I think about Otto and all the writing he does and wonder if I will ever be able to say so much as clearly. Last night I saw another mistake by Otto! He took the wrong hat when leaving Pengo. Today I saw another small opportunity. Herbert was in the dining hall, needed a fork but couldn't get through the crowd of people. So I grabbed the last one and gave it to him. Two people have told me about my aggressive behavior towards them. Pierre with my almost pouring wine on him and Duncan with my almost stuffing a cigarette in his mouth. I noticed a problem today and did something about it myself. Dirt was building up at the entrance to the dining hall. It was impossible to close the door and it was being twisted at the hinges. So I got a shovel and removed it, and felt quite pleased with myself. I have decided to do something about the dishwasher hose, and pig food problem also. Achim said goodbye again last night. It was very amusing. He did not want to go and the slightest provocation by Otto brought him back for another round of applause. As to my two errors, they both cut me like a knife when they criticized me. And now William comes in the room and says I should go to the afternoon SD instead of writing. A little baby says I am very silly not to go to the SD. In the kitchen I found myself swimming away with fnatasy and making mistakes. They are praying or chanting together outside, with drums sometimes. Part of me wants to go out and be with them but I don't do it. And imagine a time in the future when I will be past this fear of going or getting out of myself. Someone said that just talking about/saying your bad feelings was a way of curing part of one's sickness. Letting all one's bad feelings out makes them go away. A lot of tension is released when you stop holding onto them. But I don't know how to explain it more. William says more cutting things about my not joining the others, but staying here alone. And its true. It wouldn't hurt so much if it weren't. Brooke says a group of 20 in California was the best they've seen. 2 of them will come here and later they want a group leader to go there. The two couples in Santa Cruz were nothing. Bill Zwicker didn't see what was going on. And now I start to have negative ideas about how the two people will change their minds and the group will eventually stop doing SD and not ask for a leader. They will slowly fall apart from seeing themselves more clearly. The negative people will start to leave and eventually there will be nobody there! And I will be the winner again because I'm not the loser. Lately I have had a feeling about jumping in the middle It comes upon me very sudeenly and is a very primitive feeling. It causes me to feel panic. It scares me, feels very aggressive. It is just to jump up and growl, scream, or yell - like Madalane often does. At some time when there is a lot of tension she will shriek, very short and loud. My horny feelings are starting to come back after an absence of two weeks or so. I feel it several tiems a day and usually masturbate at night. It isn't enough. An old feeling of tension in my arms and especially legs, that leads in involuntary spasms and in ability to fall asleep. Murderous feelings are coming up by themselves. Like today in the kitchen, wanting to hit someone on the head with a pot. I start to think about someone. Then a situation where we are together and I have the superior position. I eventually win the argument or fight because of my being actually better than the other person. I then get a short feeling of satisfaction from having won. Often I totally lose contact with what's really going on around me. Then I will make a mistake or someone will want my attention and the whole fantasy goes up in smoke. I return to reality and discover the water is about to run over in the sink, or someone says I took their plate of food away. Now the others are returning from the afternoon SD. It must just be over. I have been half or more asleep the last hour. To dinner. I ask a sick guest if he wants something and I will bring it to him. And Lou in the Pengo Cafe. I check to see if she needs anything and return with milk and soap. When do I get credit for all these things? Who do I tell? Theo is leading a singing lesson. He was apparently a short-lived pop star. He has people come to the middle now and sing "Love" in different ways. Before it was "Sex Machine". He is one of the best people at moving his body wildly and rapidly. Karl Ihro has just talked about the history of the AAO. The earliest days in 1972 and with 3 groups in Vienna, and the FH farm. How they came together at 32 Praterstrasse, moved to FH. Started verbal analysis, regressed, walked around Vienna with pacifiers, gremaced whenever they were in public, started wearing short hair, adopted common property, free sexuality, started their economy on the international level, tried to reach the alternative press and culture and were rejected, started doing everything themselves, discovered it wasn't economical, gave up common property, became social, and all thewhile, changing and developing the group and single SD. Many people came and went also, depending on their state of development. It was almost as though they were reliving a microhistory of the human race. New developments have come about in the month I've been here and more are sure to follow. Earlier today Tina Muller, one of my favorites, grabbed me while we passed in the kitchen. I was swamped by a wave of good feeling and almost panicked. She kissed and held me in a very nice way. I almost became stiff and panicked. More resistance to a positive opportunity. Just now Odil comes in. I tell her to have some apple juice. She does and then asks me to go to the SD with her. I resist more. If I can manage to turn this incredible resisting ability around then I imagine myself able to be as good as Otto. How do I change the sign of myself? Sunday December 31, 1978 Last day of the year. Last night I went outside and looked at the clear sky thinking about my past dreams of being a scientist and traveling to other solar systems. Found the big dipper, north star, and realized what a shoddy scientist I would have been.