Why we should all be dropping acid

Many years ago a man on the end of my cigarette stole my soul. Mr Migarette (for such was his name) wore a tall hat like the one in the Arnolfini Marriage portrait, he smoked a pipe and no matter how often I tried to flick away the glowing fag ash, his evil grinning features remained intact. I have never taken LSD since.

But having watched How to Change Your Mind, I think I may have done the drug a disservice. After four or more decades in the wilderness, lysergic acid is now being rehabilitated as a miracle cure for all manner of conditions from cluster headaches to alcoholism and depression.

LSD was isolated by the Swiss chemist Albert Hofmann while investigating the properties of ergot (the rye fungus which in the Middle Ages caused outbreaks of a madness known as St Anthony’s Fire). One day in his laboratory, he began hallucinating and realised that he must have absorbed the substance through his fingertips. Intrigued, he followed up by taking a stronger dose, which led to a mind-blowing bicycle journey in which he glimpsed the secrets of the universe.

Hofmann lived to 102, long enough to see the magical discovery that had been vilified and proscribed by the Nixon administration rehabilitated by respectable researchers who recognised its beneficial properties. Perhaps those who’ve been freaked out by a really bad trip will remain unpersuaded. But it seems that LSD’s bad rap is partly the result of government propaganda (ersatz scientific studies insisting it causes foetal damage, etc.) and partly because people misuse it.

This makes sense to me. When I did LSD in the early 1990s – it generally came in strips of blotters with pictures of Batman and the Joker, red dragons or a purple om symbol – I tended to drop it before a party.