You're trudging through a seemingly endless desert, the Sun's scorching rays beating down upon your brow. Yet another appropriate time to posit the question "How did I end up here?" but before you can utter the apostrophe to your surroundings, you spot a dark figure on the the crest of a nearby dune. Mustering the strength your legs have left, you climb the slant of packed grains, reaching out for the figure. It appears to be a man on horseback, but he suddenly splits into three men. You don't need to ask who they are, because you already know somehow. The mounted steed begins to turn and the silhouetted trio unifies back into a singular visage, trotting slowly out of sight onto the other side of the sands. Just as you reach the crest's top, you lose your balance and roll to the bottom of the other side. Covered in specs of uncomfortable granularity, you lift your head to see the image of an oasis before you. A small pond with vegetation growing all around, and a single tree shading what appears to be a table with three men sitting at it. The same trio? Yes. It's Ryan, Dixon, and John. They beckon you to come into the shade of the tree with them. As you approach, Ryan begins to dig into the surface under his chair and produces a sand weathered copy of Alejandro Jodorowsky's El Topo (1970) and hands it to you with minimal dialogue.
You might not know how you ended up here, but now you know the why. Join us at the table for a discussion of the Metaphysical Acid Western that convinced John Lennon to help fund more of Jodorowsky's surreal cinematic contributions.
