Mark Borax

There are numerous ideas about what supposedly awaits the world in the year 2012. The most famous source of these transformational theories comes from the Mayans, whose Long Count calender completes its 12th baktun cycle on December 21 of that year. Many Mayan scholars - academics, not people who read books about the subject - believe, with good reason, that this is a misreading of the calendar. New Age devotees have latched onto José Argüelles' assertion that this date represents some sort of cataclysmic event, preceded, in 1987, by the so-called (by Argüelles) "Harmonic Convergence," the beginning of the countdown to a new cycle and an end to all manner of suffering and despair. The even more dubious "Bible Code" claims that in 2012 some sort of heavenly body will crash into the Earth. Author Daniel Pinchbeck proposes that there will be some sort of psychic revolution. None of this is explored in the book 2012: Crossing the Bridge to the Future. Instead, the unfortunate person who finds themself reading this book is treated to a smörgåsbord of complete horseshit.

You see, 2012: Crossing the Bridge to the Future has nothing to offer in the way of a possible theory about what will happen in 2012, which is hilarious considering the title. Instead, author Mark Borax offers a half-baked rehashing of the Mayan theory mixed with some really far-out nonsense about Atlantis and astrology and some obscure (and quite possibly made up) acid-casualty named William Lonsdale. But we're getting ahead of ourselves. Let's start from the beginning.

The first thing you will notice about Mark Borax is that his writing is terrible. For someone who professes writing to be his true love, this is truly tragic. But it's true: he sucks. He claims to have written (at the time of this book's completion, which appears to have been around 1994, despite the fact that it was released this year) to have written ten books, and yet, strangely publishers weren't breaking down his door to get their hands on another must-read Borax manuscript. We first meet Mark Borax in 1987 when he's working at some sort of comic book related job and living with his girlfriend Suzanne in Berkeley. They have problems, but you really don't care because of the frightening lack of character development in this book. He meets another woman with a similar interest in alternative spirituality (really, that's the best term I can find from it) and the three of them decide it would be a great idea to experience the Harmonic Convergence by dropping acid on Mt. Shasta. Sounds like a logical plan!

So they pile in Borax's Honda Civic and drive up the mountain. He's not even on acid yet and he decides it would be a great idea to offroad a front wheel drive Japanese subcompact. That pretty much sums up Borax's attitude toward everything. Anyway, they drop acid and Borax proceeds to have a really bad trip, the kind the ABC television network tried to warn you about in so many after-school specials. He literally refers to LSD as "an intergalactic laxative" to cure his "cosmic constipation." It's this sort of shit that makes me wish the 60s never happened.

If I took acid and had horrific vision and physical reaction I'd assume it was because of either bad LSD or just a bad reaction. But not Mark Borax! He believes that he had some sort of spiritual experience. So he seeks out a Marin County astrologer named William Lonsdale. Never heard of William Lonsdale? Neither has the Internet, except in small references. This is kind of surprising because THIS ENTIRE BOOK is based on Lonsdale's teachings. Lonsdale is pretty much what you'd expect from a Bay Area astrologer: obtuse, bearded, and long-winded. Naturally, Borax is immediately taken with him and decides to become an astrologer under his tutelage.

Despite the back cover's claim that Borax founded a mystery school with Lonsdale and the chapter title "The Sorcerer's Apprentice," Borax appears to have been some guy with a tape recorder who came to every lecture Lonsdale and his wife gave. I'm not exaggerating; there is nothing in the book to suggest he and Lonsdale have some sort of special relationship. And yet, this apprenticeship is the basis for the most of the 200-plus pages in this book.

There is sparse action in this book, because there really isn't anything like a "plot" or "direction" to be found. The majority of this book is Borax's transcriptions of lectures he taped. Again, I stress that this is no exaggeration. Borax describes these lectures as "Socratic dialogues." How true! Everyone knows that Plato's dialogues are structured like this one:

Alcibiades: Asks a question/challenges Socrates argument

Socrates: Spends two hours rambling on about nothing in particular, never bothering to answer the question/challenge, and making shit up about Atlantis

You could literally cut up Lonsdale's lectures, throw them in a hat, pick sentences out at random, and organize them into paragraphs - it wouldn't make a difference. These lectures will never make less sense than they do in their original form. The gist of Lonsdale's vision of 2012 is that we're the reincarnation of traumatized souls who perished when Atlantis was destroyed and we need to get out of the cycle of birth and rebirth and oh my God what did he say about Atlantis?

So, long, long, long lecture series short, Lonsdale and his wife are so convinced of the bullshit they made up that they choose to forgo treatments for her breast cancer. She's going to transcend death by dying. It makes perfect sense if you eat mushrooms you find in your yard. Anyway, we're eventually treated to the image of blood pouring out of Mrs. Lonsdale's nipples. Then the cancer spreads to her pancreas. Then she dies. Have we grown fond of Mrs. Lonsdale? Is her death painful to the reader? Does Mark Borax convey the loss of a great guide and teacher? Do I have to answer any of this?

What Mark Borax is really concerned with is boning. You see, as surprising as this is, all of his relationships seem to fail. The two relationships in the book he discusses in any detail have a sex component that we neither wanted nor needed to know about. The first woman, Carol, doesn't seem to crave intimacy, while Borax is a complete horndog. They take a trip to a hot spring to try to remedy this, and she gets turned on and they have what Borax describes as "intercourse." Sexy! But in the end she is apparently too repulsed by Borax (not surprising) and their relationship fizzles. Not to fear, though! Soon Borax is banging an artist named Sylvia and they have an awesome sex life. It was his description of his sexual experience with this woman that convinced me that he just threw this part in to wave his genitals in your face and say, "Yeah, that's right - I had SEX!" Mark Borax is a disgusting human being, but you already knew that.

Borax moves around more than a rail-riding hobo. He starts in Vermont and then moves to Berkeley and then various locations around the Bay Area and then Southern Oregon and then Port Townsend, Washington, followed by Whidbey Island and then finally back to the Bay Area. The back cover of the book says that Borax lives on Vashon Island, but his website clearly states that he works in Vermont. He apparently has mastered the art of teleportation as well.

In closing, I would like to say that Mark Borax's 2012: Crossing the Bridge to the Future is the worst book I have ever read. It is like a beer bong full of rancid clam juice - just when you think it couldn't get any worse, you look up and realized you're not even half-way finished. Please, do yourself a favor and read something halfway decent. Hell, read Pinchbeck's book - he's at least a good writer. But for the love of Atlantis DO NOT BUY OR READ THIS BOOK.… (mehr)