TL;DR:
- Ex–corporate guy turns shroom vision into a counter-culture congregation.
- Church offers free psychedelics, DMT deep dives, and snacks (because munchies).
- “Orange Hitler” and his “apartheid lapdog” are public enemy #1.
- 550 members, zero cult vibes (allegedly).
When Ancestors Slide Into Your DMs
Dez’s origin story starts with a “chemically induced vision” (read: heroic dose of psychedelics) where he claims he went full Avatar and met his ancestors in a mystical Mexican forest. The catch? It freaked him the hell out. “I had the answer—when I was freaking out about the question,” in an interview he did with the Daily Star, describing the panic attack that followed. But instead of swearing off shrooms forever, he doubled down. Now, he’s the self-appointed shaman of a 550-member psychedelic church operating out of his own home, where “communal offerings” mean free mushrooms, zero dogma, and a middle finger to American fascism.
Church Activities: Sermons, Shrooms, and Socialist Vibes
Forget pews and hymns—Dez’s congregation gets sermons every Tuesday (actual sermons, not just people staring at the ceiling) and “social sessions” like movie nights where the real trip is the plot twists. There’s even a support group for people who’ve seen too much during their cosmic joyrides. Oh, and they feed people. Because nothing says “holy experience” like shroom snacks and solidarity.
The kicker? Everything’s free. Dez funds it all himself, insisting the church isn’t a drug den or a cult—just a “creative divinity” experiment where the only thing they’re selling is liberation (and maybe some fire memes).
Fighting Fascism with Fungi
Dez isn’t shy about his politics. He blames America’s chaos on “Orange Hitler and his apartheid lapdog,” arguing that when the U.S. “sneezes fascism, the world catches a cold.” His solution? Build a community that’s “not about power, control, or manipulation”—just people tripping balls and plotting revolution. “This is not mine,” he insists. “This is ours.”
DMT: The Universe’s “Last Little Gift” (Besides Nachos)
Dez’s theology hinges on DMT, the psychedelic compound he calls “the universe’s last little gift to us.” According to him, it lets you “step outside your meat suit” and see existence as a “who inside a what.” Translation: Your soul’s just vibing in a temporary flesh vessel. Heavy? Sure. But when the walls are breathing, it kinda makes sense.
“Cultish”? Try ‘Church, But Chill’
Critics call Dez’s operation “cultish.” His response? “Church is not a place.” For him, it’s about spiritually horny millennials and Gen Zers gathering to fight bigotry between group trips. “When people gather spiritually, that’s a church,” he argues. Think less Jonestown, more Burning Man with a side of activism.