A Psychedelic Solstice with Eno

Perhaps the most cherished holiday tradition in our household involves imbibing a dose of something psychedelic on the longest night of the year and staying up all night listening to some of our favorite music. This year we were blessed to have two strong doses of LSD to celebrate the solstice with. To begin our solstice, we usually spend the day cleaning our place up. Then we have dinner, relax a bit, and as the sun goes down we light a candle in a jar, safely ensconced in one of my tin can luminaries. Then we ingest our doses, turn on the power amp that drives a nice pair of JBL studio monitor speakers and put a CD in the player to start the session.

 

By the time the first CD plays all the way through, we can feel the doses coming on strong, and we’ve become entranced by the music. Listening to music in an altered state of consciousness usually reminds us of why we chose that particular artist to begin our session, and when the CD ends, we want to hear more by the same artist. That feeling only intensifies by the end of the 2nd CD, and so on. Last year on the solstice, we listened to eleven consecutive Tangerine Dream albums. The year before that, we listened to Peter Gabriel’s entire career in one night.

We’ve come to realize that we need to choose the album we play first on the solstice very carefully. We need to choose an artist who’s work I have in adequate depth in my collection. I don’t have a huge record collection, and I divested myself of all of my vinyl at the end of the last century. For the last 30 years or so, I’ve been so absorbed in my own music and media production that I don’t have much time to listen to other people’s music. I hardly ever buy records anymore, and lately, when I go to the record store, I don’t recognize any of the names on the record bins. Not only do I not recognize the artists, I don’t even understand the genres.

So I have a limited selection and there just aren’t that many artists whose albums I own at least ten of. If I do have ten or more records by an artist, there’s probably a reason for that, so we are not likely to be disappointed, but I think we chose particularly well this year.

This year we began our solstice trip with: Before and After Science by Brian Eno. I love Eno’s work, and I have most of his classics from the ‘70s, but Brian Eno remains one of the few names I recognize when I flip through the bins at a record store, and whenever I spot an Eno record I don’t have, I pick it up, because I know it will be good if I ever find time to listen to it. So I have the necessary depth in my Eno collection for a very long night of listening, and it includes a number of familiar old favorites, but also several albums that I’ve picked up in recent years but have hardly listened to. They all came alive for us that night, and it felt as though we were hearing them all for the first time, in complete rapture.

What can I say about Eno’s music? Listen to it! That would be the first thing. Then I’d say something about tender, wistful lyrics and playful songwriting, his style that blends genteel sophistication with wicked flamboyance, and of course his studio wizardry. I think that’s the only appropriate word for it. He took our breath away, and moved us to tears, all night, again and again. A lot of his later albums have a gentle low-key feel about them that makes them easy to listen to in the background, but they deserve your attention too. I highly recommend everything on this list.

Our 2018 Winter Solstice Playlist:

  • Before and After Science

  • Another Green World

  • Here Come the Warm Jets

  • Taking Tiger Mountain by Strategy

  • Wrong Way Up (with John Cale)

  • The Drop

  • Spinner (with Jah Wobble)

  • My Life in the Bush of Ghosts (with David Byrne)

  • Brain Candy

  • Making Space

  • Nerve Net

  • Another Day on Earth

  • 801 Live (with Phil Manzanera)

We finished up by listening to Phil Manzanera’s 801 Live because it is the only live album I know of that features Brian Eno as the lead singer of a rock band. We followed that with a final encore: a live version of one of our all time favorite Eno classic tunes, The Fat Lady of Limbourg, performed live by 801 from another Phil Manzanera release: The Manzanera Collection that I picked up at the KMUD Block Party record sale a few years back.

 

 

By that time, we had put the candle out, because the daylight had returned. The acid was waning and we started getting hungry again so we turned the stereo off and made a little breakfast. Whatever you like to do for the holidays. I hope you have as much fun doing it as we did.

4/20, a CIA Plot Involving the Grateful Dead

steal_your_pot

It’s 4/20 again, Oh boy! I’m not big on celebrating 4/20 as a holiday. I mean, if somebody hands me a joint, any day of the year, I’ll happily smoke it, but as a holiday, 4/20 comes up a day late and a dollar short, if you ask me.

a day late

April 19th is the day to celebrate. Think about it. The psychedelic revolution was born on April 19 1943. April 19 is “Bicycle Day,” the day Albert Hoffman first discovered the psychoactive properties of LSD, and took his famous bike ride home from the Sandoz lab in Switzerland. Also, the Battle of Lexington and Concord took place on April 19, the first major battle in the American Revolution. April 19th is a day to remember that sometimes revolution is a good thing, and some things are worth fighting for. That’s something to celebrate.

bicycle-day

What happened on April 20th that has anything at all to do with marijuana? Nothing. Nothing at all.

nothing

What did happen on April 20th? What is the most significant thing to happen, in the whole history of civilization, on April 20? Adolf Hitler was born. Remember him? What a guy. He cast his shadow over the entire 20th Century, and remains an iconic symbol of pure evil to this day. That’s not something I want to celebrate.

hitlers birthday cake

Hitler’s birthday should be marked by a somber day to remember the horrible things the Nazis did, and to remember that people did those things. April 20 is a day to remember that at one time, Hitler was a baby, just like millions of other babies, and his mother loved him and took care of him and sent him to school, and he grew up to become Der Fuhrer of the Third Reich, and to instigate the most ghoulish bloodbath of a blood-soaked century. April 20th is a day to remember that any little baby can grow up to become another Hitler someday, and that’s something every perspective parent should think about.

hitlers birthday guidelines

Anyway, the fact that Adolf Hitler was born on on April 20th hangs like a pall over the entire day, making it unfit to celebrate. Unless, of course, you are a fascist. Fascists love to celebrate Hitler’s Birthday. If you ask me, fascists are behind the whole business of celebrating April 20th as some kind of pot holiday. I think the whole 420 phenomena is part of a CIA CoIntelPro disinformation campaign designed to derail the revolutionary elements of the cannabis counter-culture.

CIA cointelpro

The whole 420 back-story seems pretty dubious. Supposedly, some Bay Area high-school kids concocted 420 as a code word for getting high, because it took exactly 4:20 seconds for them to walk to their favorite place to smoke herb. That doesn’t make sense because: A, Some kids are faster than others. B, Who times their walks like that? And C, Kids would compete to see who could get there faster, so 420 would eventually become 418, 415, or even 412. Within a few years, some particularly fast stoners would have whittled it down to 3:58.

fast times

Also, consider this: All over the country, people constantly coin new code-words for marijuana, ranging from “bass strings” to “turf.” all of these terms must enjoy a certain amount of popularity to be effective, but all of them lose their “cool” once you hear them on TV. Code-words, after all, have to be changed once the enemy has broken the code. 420 on the other hand just seems to get more popular the more banal it becomes. Speaking of things that get more popular the more banal they sound…

bland calm

Look at where this story comes from. Apparently, some of these apocryphal 420 kids were friends of Phil Lesh, the bass player for the Grateful Dead. Supposedly, 420, as a code-word for marijuana, arose within the Grateful Dead subculture. That story doesn’t check-out either. If you saw the Dead back in the ’70s, you never heard the term 420, at least I don’t recall hearing it when I saw them back in ’78, when I saw them at Music Hall in Cleveland, a great venue that only seats 3,000 people, and the show didn’t sell out.

gd cleveland nov 20 78-horz

But a few years later, the Grateful Dead sure did. At the height of Reagan’s War on Drugs, suddenly, this washed-up Woodstock era band of drug-addled geezers had a smash hit on MTV. Next thing you know, the Grateful Dead were the biggest tour on the planet, selling-out stadiums and arenas all over the country, and all over the country, millions of drugged-up, hippied-out, middle-class white kids started calling marijuana, 420. Coincidence? I don’t think so.

coincidence-I-think-not

I’ve never trusted the Grateful Dead since then, and I assumed they were a front for the CIA. Here’s why: First, they were the least revolutionary of the psychedelic rock bands. The Grateful Dead didn’t drop LSD in Nixon’s coffee machine, like Grace Slick did,

grace slick

…and they didn’t set things on fire, like Jimi Hendrix did.

jimi hendrix

They just took drugs and played music. That made the Dead safe for consumption, in the eyes of the CIA. That’s why the CIA used the Grateful Dead to derail, demotivate and lobotomize the psychedelic revolution.

CIA Psychedelic_Intelligence

By combining pitifully low doses of LSD with excessive amounts of stoned-out bluegrass Americana music, the Grateful Dead turned America’s disaffected youth into mindless party animals incapable of original thought, let alone revolutionary action. The Grateful Dead offer nothing remotely revolutionary, original, or even interesting in their music. Instead, with the CIA’s help, they threw a huge wet blanket of blandness over the imagination of a whole generation.

cia lsd

The whole point of the Grateful Dead was to stop people from experimenting with music and drugs, and instead, make sure that whenever people found drugs, the CIA could drown them in a murky sea of rehashed country-western, bluegrass, folk-rock pap. The Grateful Dead Disneyfied the psychedelic experience, and Jerry Garcia was a stooge who, wittingly or unwittingly, helped the CIA control the minds of America’s youth.

garcia devil

Today, people all over America are celebrating Adolf Hitler’s Birthday by smoking a joint while they listen to dumb redneck music. That’s how effectively the CIA used the Grateful Dead to subdue and incapacitate the psychedelic revolution. You may think this theory sounds like delusional paranoia, but do you have a better explanation?

gd white community

I didn’t think so.

i didnt think so

The Night I Tripped With Jack Herer

JackHerer_joint

Flipping through the latest issue of Skunk Magazine,

skunkmag

…I noticed a very nice article and photo-spread about the 25th anniversary of the Boston Freedom Rally, held each August on the Boston Commons. For many years, the Boston Freedom Rally was the largest cannabis legalization event in the country. Perhaps it retains that distinction to this day. I don’t know, but the piece brought back a lot of memories, most fondly, the night the author of the Emperor Wears No Clothes, Jack Herer, dosed me with LSD, and we spent the night in a hotel together reading Gideon’s Bible.

GIDEONS BIBLE

I remember the very first Boston Freedom Rally very distinctly. I had been working on it all summer. I designed the flier for it.

1990flier BOSton freedom raLLY

I provided the sound system and helped paint the backdrop for the stage. I even performed a few original prohibition protest songs at it,

DSC_0524

…but my most significant contribution to getting the first Boston Freedom Rally off-the-ground, was the newsletter I started: Mass Grass.

DSC_0517

Mass Grass remains in publication as the official newsletter of the Massachusetts Cannabis Reform Coalition AKA Mass Cann, but in those days, the Spring of 1990, there was no Mass. Cann. There was a lawyer in Marblehead, MA named Steve Epstein who had a list of about 250 names from a defunct MA NORML, and there was Ron and Linda Noel, who had bought a bunch of Jack Herer’s books, T-shirts and bumper stickers which they sold (or more accurately, gave away as premiums for donations) at something they called the “Hemp Table,” they had collected about 200 names from people who had signed-up to a mailing-list at the table. We sent them all the very first issue of Mass. Grass, and suddenly, we had a roomful of volunteers and a pile of checks. Mass Cann was born.

MAsS caNN MEAdow

We didn’t hold the first Boston Freedom Rally at the Boston Commons, however. We decided to hold the first Boston Freedom Rally adjacent to the dock where the USS Constitution, the famous warship known as Old Ironsides, from the Revolutionary War, was docked, as a tourist attraction, in Charlestown, on the Freedom Trail.

uss-constitution (2)

We booked Jack Herer as our key note speaker, who revealed in his, then new, book The Emperor Wears No Clothes, that it took 60 tons of cannabis sativa hemp to outfit the ship in its heyday, detailing all of the different ways hemp was used. By our choice of venue, we hoped to provide Jack Herer with a convenient visual aide, and we booked him as our key note speaker.

jack_HERER SUIT

As hard as it is to believe today, in 1990, almost nobody knew about hemp. The only hemp clothes you could buy in the US were shapeless blue work-shirts and cream colored drawstring shorts made in China with big yellow labels warning you not to smoke them. There were no hulled hemp seeds at the health food store, in fact I had to help bail Ron Noel out of jail when an overzealous Boston cop arrested him for giving away free samples of, completely legal, sterilized hemp seed. Americans knew nothing about hemp in 1990. Jack Herer changed that, almost singlehandedly with The Emperor Wears No Clothes.

The_Emperor_Wears_No_Clothes

Jack arrived in Boston two days before the rally. On the day before the rally, I chauffeured him up north to the Statehouse in New Hampshire, where he spoke at another event. We took a banner I had made for Ann Arbor’s Hash Bash earlier that year that depicted a lit joint, upended, and wrapped in barbed wire, like the Amnesty International logo, except with a joint instead of a candle, with the words Free Prisoners of Consciousness written around it. I held the banner while Jack spoke.

thats me next month

We didn’t get back to Boston until late in the day, and we returned to a very busy night of packing up, last minute phone calls and trips to the copy shop. We did not get to sleep until very late, and the alarm clock went off just a few hours later.

Alarm-Clocks

In the morning, the pace became even more frantic. One of our new members, John Migliorini had built a stage that we needed to assemble on site. I had to set up the sound system, we had booths to set up, banners to hang and signs to post, and before long, we were surrounded by a huge crowd of people. I sang my protest songs, Steve Epstein spoke, Linda Noel spoke, Elvy Musica, one of the first federally recognized medical marijuana patients, spoke, Don Fiedler, then the National Director of NORML spoke, and Jack Herer whipped the crown into a frenzy to conclude the event. The event went off without a hitch, we had a big crowd, and no one got arrested.

jaCK HERER MIC

By the time we broke down the stage, cleaned up the mess and packed all of the vehicles, we were elated, exhausted, and hungry. We took Jack out to dinner at Boston Chicken, a cafeteria style fried chicken eatery. While we stood in line in front of our trays waiting for gloved hands to fill our plates from the other side of the steam-tables, Jack took something out of his pocket and tore it into tiny pieces. He then dropped a hit of blotter acid on each of our trays. Naturally, I immediately put the quarter-inch square of paper in my mouth. Other members of our party quickly followed suit.

eat me blotter acid

We had booked Jack as a guest on a radio show, which meant he needed to be at the studios of WBCN at 8:00am the next morning. We reserved a couple of rooms at the Holiday Inn downtown, both for an after-event-party, and because it was close to the radio station. We ate dinner, and got to the hotel just as the acid started to kick-in. At first, we had a dozen or more people in that hotel room, and the atmosphere was quite celebratory.

hotel room party

John Migliorini broke-out a bottle of vodka, into which he had stuffed a huge cola of fresh cannabis, at the peak of fluorescence. I don’t know how he got that huge bud through the neck of the bottle, but the bud looked as perfect as the day it was harvested. He poured everyone a glass, and Jack proposed a toast. I’ve never tasted anything quite like it before or since, pure essence of cannabis. Joints were lit and passed and we partied for a few hours.

smoking joint

As the evening progressed, the room cleared-out a bit, as guests excused themselves. By about 1:00AM, only the people that Jack had dosed, remained, and the topic turned to psychedelics. As a hard-core dead-head, Jack learned to use LSD the way most people use coffee. He talked about meeting Timothy Leary, and how he used Timothy Leary’s method to quit smoking cigarettes.

tim leary gif

Timothy Leary’s method of beating nicotine addiction went something like this: You smoke your last cigarette, and then set the pack of cigarettes on the table in front of you. Then, you take 10 hits of LSD. Wait an hour, then take one more hit of LSD every hour, for 10 hours. Then wait 10 hours, after which you take 10 more hits of LSD. By the time you come down from that, apparently, you’ve broken the acute physical addiction, and you’ve reprogrammed your mind. Jack said it worked, and he hasn’t had a cigarette since.

LSD BUTTS

I’ve never had to deal with nicotine addiction, but I’ve had enough experience with LSD that I don’t doubt his story. We talked about how powerful psychedelics were, and how they had the potential change people, both individually, and as a culture. Eventually, Jack brought up The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross by John Allegro, and asked if anyone had read it. I had not yet read it at the time, but I had heard of it, and even looked it up in the library, but instead, only found books by other authors either dismissing Allegro’s work, or struggling to put their religious beliefs back together after Allegro had so convincingly shattered them.

Sacred-Mushroom-and-the-Cross

I knew that John Allegro was a leading ancient-language scholar who spent many years studying the Dead Sea Scrolls. In The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross, Allegro explains that the story of Jesus, in the New Testament, is actually a coded message, describing the beliefs and practices of a secret cult of mushroom worshiping Jews, who used amanita muscaria mushrooms as their sacrament. According to Allegro, the stories were strictly an oral tradition, and it was forbidden to write them down, but between 66 and 74AD, this cult was all but wiped-out in a Jewish rebellion that the Roman authority crushed, brutally, and mercilessly.

JeWisH REbeLlion

These dire circumstances led to the cult write down the stories that explained where to find, how to identify and how to safely use the strongly psychoactive, but also deadly poisonous mushroom. Told as a story of Jesus, the Son of God incarnate on Earth, any child could understand it, but only an initiate, who was given special instruction, would understand the hidden messages about the mushroom cult. If you’re not familiar with The Sacred Mushroom and the Cross, I encourage you to read it. That’s what the John Allegro says, and if you believe his credentials, he’s the guy who should know.

MUSHROOM CRUCIFIX

I’m not particularly religious, or interested in learning Hebrew, Aramaic or Greek, but psychedelic drugs fascinate me to no end. Jack was raised Jewish. He didn’t care that much about Jesus, but, like every good Jewish boy, he learned Hebrew for his Bar Mitsvah, and in his passion to learn as much as he could about the history of cannabis sativa, he also taught himself some Aramaic and Latin, and spent a lot of time studying religious texts.

OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA

According to Jack, Allegro was right. The Gospel is a work of fiction, and Jesus probably never existed as a human being, but instead, was an anthropomorphization of the amanita muscaria mushroom. However, Jack also discovered a whole different level of deception and subterfuge concealed within the Old Testament of the Christian Bible.

warning-looking-at-religious-texts-may-permanently-damage-the-mind-

Jack noticed that the Old Testament, as it has been translated in the Christian Bible, reads a lot differently than the Jewish Torah, which contains the same stories, but in their original Hebrew. Jack also noticed something very strange about the way the Christian Bible uses Arabic numerals. We could tell that Jack was really passionate about this, and if he had lived long enough to see the complete legalization of cannabis, to which he was completely dedicated, I bet he would have written a book about it. He gave us a preview of it that night:

sneaky preview

According to Jack, in the 3rd Century, when Constantine had his life-changing, and politically convenient “vision” and converted to Christianity, founding the Roman Catholic Church, he had actually become an initiate of this mushroom cult. Constantine then constructed the new official church of Rome, using the same kind of secret code, using stories that had an overt message, that anyone could understand, and a covert message, that only an initiate with special training would comprehend.

Pope_Constantine

Jack postulates that Constantine had two goals he hoped to achieve by establishing the Roman Catholic Church and declaring himself the first Pope. Constantine hoped to use the church to pacify the unruly masses who increasingly threatened the stability of the Roman Empire, but also to protect himself, close associates, and other members of the cult from the one thing they feared more than anything else, Gonorrhea.

gonorrhea

According to Jack, the Catholic Church was founded by a secret cult of homosexual pedophiles, who used the cover of a celibate priesthood to conceal their activities from scrutiny, and the knowledge gained through the confessional, to target only the most chaste virgins for their sexual gratification, and recruitment. The Catholic clergy was constructed in such a way as to create layers of disease prevention through a strict protocol of who gets to fuck who, insuring that the Pope himself had multiple layers of protection from the disease carrying public.

Cardinal RECRUITS

I am not kidding. I’m pretty sure I did not hallucinate that. I was high that night, but not that high. Personally, I don’t put a whole lot of stock in anything the Bible says, but when Jack Herer, the guy who uncovered the hidden truth about marijuana, tells me that he’s discovered evidence that the Catholic Church was founded by a secret cult of psychedelic mushroom worshiping gay pedophiles, I was intrigued.

SAINT NICHOLAS WAS A ROMAN CATHOLIC PRIEST PEDOPHILE

Enough of his story seemed to check out. I knew that the Sacred Mushroom and the Cross was a real book, and I knew that it made some big waves in Theological circles. I also knew, as I’m sure you do, that Catholic priests are notorious for molesting children, but I went to bible school for 12 years. I’ve read enough of the Bible to know that it’s boring as hell, and if there were any wild sex-scenes in it, I would remember them. Naturally, we asked Jack to explain.

JACK HERER YOUTUBE

This is where it gets complicated and hard to remember after 25 years, but I’ll do my best. Anyone who takes the Bible seriously should do their own research. I’m just conveying my experience. According to Jack, when they talk about “damnation” in the Bible, they really mean, gonorrhea. The word “damn” is apparently derived from the same word as “dam” meaning to obstruct the natural flow of water.

damnation

The “n” on the end of “damn” modifies the meaning to mean an obstruction to the natural flow of “living waters.” “Living waters” according to Jack meant “semen.” So,, damnation means: an obstruction to the natural flow of semen.

LIVING WATERS

Gonorrhea definitely obstructs the natural flow of fluids through the genitalia. In severe cases puss drips from the end of the penis. This dripping puss looked more like semen than urine, so they assumed that the extreme pain they felt during urination resulted from the the dam blocking the natural flow of semen. In those days, long before the discovery of penicillin, gonorrhea was untreatable, and almost worse than a death sentence. You could think of gonorrhea as the AIDS of their time, and it especially worried the more sexually promiscuous among them, Roman Emperors being more promiscuous than most. That’s how jack explained “damnation.”

Damnation1

Then he explained the sexual symbolism behind the Holy Trinity. According to Jack, whenever they use the word “God” or “God the Father,” we should read it as “the erect penis.” Jack said these people worshiped a “Sun God,” and that the sun was the head of a giant penis that thrust itself into the womb of the Earth every morning, and pulled-out every evening.

sun god penis

Whenever you see a reference to the “Son of God” or “Jesus Christ” we should translate that as “sacred mushroom,” amanita muscaria. Jack told us that the “virgin birth’ referred to the fact that they could find no seeds for mushrooms, and they were thought to spring directly from the rain, which these ancients believed to be the semen of the great “Sun God.”.

amanita muscaria

The mushroom was therefore sacred, because it sprang up entirely from the semen of the Sun God, without an earthly mother, and because the mushroom looked so much like a penis, they assumed it was the perfect embodiment of masculine energy. It’s psychedelic, so it must have blown their mind, and it could also kill them, so they must have been very careful with it, but that’s what Jack Herer, and John Allegro, for that matter, tell us we should think of, when we think about Jesus Christ.

christ w mushroom

Finally, the “Holy Ghost” according to Jack, “Holy Ghost” means “semen.” Got that? Whenever you read the Bible and you read something about the “Holy Trinity,” they really mean, the dick, the toadstool, and the jizz. You can see how this kind of interpretation would render the Bible a much more sexually explicit book.

holy trinity

Now we get to the Arabic numerals. If you look at the Bible, you’ll see that the names of the books of the Bible use Roman numerals, as in Samuel I and Samuel II or Kings I and Kings II, but chapter and verse are always denoted with Arabic numerals, John 3:16 for example. According to Jack, there is sexual symbolism to these numbers.

Know-What-Numbers-in-Numerology-Mean-Step-4

For instance: 1 symbolizes the erect penis. It doesn’t take much imagination to see that, but Jack also said that 1 symbolizes half of the amanita muscaria mushroom, the mushroom being so sacred that no symbol could represent it in its entirety. The number 2 symbolizes the other half of the mushroom. I can almost see it, I guess. The number 3, he explained, symbolized “the tush.” Sure, the number 3 looks like a naked butt on its side. I’ve even seen that image used to represent the number. That’s about all I can remember about the sexual symbolism of Arabic numerals.

all I remember

Do you follow me so far? I mean, by the time we got this far into the conversation, it was really late, pushing 3:00AM. The acid was still there, holding back sleep, but I could feel the cumulative fatigue of two long, exciting days with very little rest. Still, I found this whole discussion pretty mind-blowing, and even in my altered state of consciousness, I tried to grasp what I was hearing.

mindblown

To review: When you read your Bible, remember that “damnation” means “gonorrhea,” “God” means “boner,” “Jesus” means “magic mushroom,” and “Holy Ghost” means “special sauce.” Then the verses of the Bible all have numbers, which all have sexual significance, and provide clues as to what kind of sex acts are covered in the text. As you can imagine, we were skeptical. We had all read The Emperor Wears No Clothes. We knew that Jack knew how to do research and present evidence, but this seemed pretty over-the-top. The only thing left to do was check it out.

CHSCK IT OUT DUDE

I pulled the Gideon’s Bible out of the hotel dresser-drawer. Jack suggested we look in a particular book, saying something like, “look in Leviticus, that book is full of smut.” So, I opened the Bible, turned to the book of Leviticus (I think) and read from Chapter 1, verse 3 and the text read something like: “And God came to him in the place of darkness and said, ‘Behold. I come quickly’ and he was filled with the Holy Spirit, and the Holy Spirit was in him.”

BEHOLD I COME QUICKLY

I kid you not. We looked up one verse after another and they were all equally full of homosexual innuendo. It was like discovering the economic symbolism behind Gilligan’s Island, once you see it, you really can’t ignore it. There we were, zonked on acid at four o’clock in the morning, reading Gideon’s bible, and cracking-up like we were listening to Redd Foxx or some equally smutty comic.

REDD FOXX

Eventually we stopped laughing, Jack went into the adjoining room to rest his eyes for an hour or two before we got up, checked-out, grabbed a coffee and scone and got on the T. Two stops later we emerged on the street just a block or two from the radio station. I don’t own a Bible anymore, and I haven’t researched this theory any further, but that was a memorable night.

a MEMORABLE NIGHT

Boomer Karma

boomer-karma-horz

This vein is just too rich to ignore, so today I’m mining the irony of the whole sad situation in Garberville yet again. I realize that this situation has upset many people, and I think people should be upset. In fact, people should be outraged, just not at the poor, the young and the homeless. Instead, I think we should blame it on the Baby Boomers.

boomers Jake Dimare quote

Never before have so many taken so much, and yet demanded so much more as the Baby Boomer generation, and it couldn’t be truer here in SoHum. Here in SoHum, a small community of Baby Boomers bought land here dirt cheap, and took advantage of the Drug War to turn enormous profits growing black-market marijuana. Today a small community of Baby Boomers still control most of the real estate in SoHum, and they make damn sure that no one ever gets a deal like they got. They supply half of the nation with marijuana, which turns people into hippies, but the money they got for it, turned them into yuppies. Now that they have become crotchety old geezers, what do we hear them complain about?

boomers cynical

Hippies! The Baby Boomers in Garberville are complaining about hippies!

hippies on sidewalk

You know what folks, what goes around, comes around, and sometimes the karma runs over the dogma. You might not be old enough to remember this, but there was a time when there were even more scuzzy, smelly, obnoxious hippies around than there are today.

boomers-grow-old-horsey

Back in the late 60’s and early 70’s, you wouldn’t believe how many filthy, dirty fucked-up hippies there were. They were everywhere. They took every imaginable drug, meth, heroin, cocaine, LSD, PCP, Quaaludes and anything else they could get their hands on.

hippies turn on collage

They freaked-out spectacularly. They fucked-up catastrophically, and they passed-out in their own vomit. Not only were they totally “in your face” everywhere you went, they had to have their loud music blaring all the time as accompaniment.

hippie BW-tile

And talk about attitude. They treated the whole world as if it belonged to them, exclusively, right from the start. They rioted, for God’s sake, big raucous riots where they turned over police cars and set fire to buildings. They’d never shut-up and sit down at music concerts, and they’d never turn their music down anywhere else. They wore faded, ripped, shabby clothing and they never took a bath. They were disgusting, repulsive, and obnoxious, and they took over every park, square and sidewalk in the whole country.

hippies take over park

They didn’t like how anyone else did anything. They wanted a revolution so they could do everything their way, and “their way” meant “at a party and on drugs,” and they thought that that made them cultural revolutionaries. To this day, SoHum Boomers still believe they can solve all of their problems at a party and on drugs.

hippies_and_hipsters-tile

To be fair, the boomers did change our culture. They changed us from a culture of stilted, stiff, sexually repressed, uptight consumerism into a culture of dumbed-down, hyper-sexualized, casual, convenient consumerism. Spirituality replaced religion. Positivity replaced compassion, and self-serving non-profit organizations replaced charities.

self inc

The War on Poverty became the War on Drugs because suddenly Americans hated hippies more than they feared black people. With cocaine, they turned a rich man’s drug into a poor mans drug and annihilated a generation of inner-city youth. With marijuana, they turned a poor man’s drug into a luxury only the rich could afford, and they made income discrimination more socially acceptable than racial discrimination.

colorblindideology

Go ahead and ask any of our local Baby boomers about the 60’s and ’70s and they’ll tell you how long their hair used to be. They’ll tell you about all of the drugs they used to take and all of the crazy shit they used to do, and they’ll tell you it was the best time of their life. My how times change.

hipies love free earth

One thing hasn’t changed however, Baby Boomers thought they owned the whole world then, and they still think the whole fucking world belongs to them. Now that they’re all shriveled-up, they don’t think anyone else deserves the opportunity to be young and irresponsible, and no one else has the right to come here and make a home in the woods without giving them a quarter-of-a-million dollars first. I guess they’ve still got some lessons to learn because it’s their bad karma that keeps bringing more hippies to Garberville, and I don’t think anyone deserves them more.

hippy chick beer

Whippit Good

Whippit Good!

 

This morning I saw another pile of spent nitrous oxide cartridges alongside the roadway. Personally, I love whippits as much as anyone. Some of my most memorable drug experiences involve NO2. I saw God once when I inhaled a deep breath of NO2 while peaking on a strong acid trip.

 

If you read this blog regularly, you know that I make no secret of my enthusiasm for recreational drugs. I feel that drug use has been in the closet for far too long. It is time that this society learned to accept, tolerate, and celebrate, its drug abusers, and to make that happen, we need to come out of the closet.

 

Americans need to know that the people who prepare their food, fix their automobiles, and drive their kids to and from school, all take recreational drugs. The doctor who did your bypass surgery, the air traffic controllers who guided your flight, and the President of the United States… all stoned out of their minds. It’s time you knew, and its time we all stopped trying to hide it from you.

 

If major cities can subsidize massive sports arenas to encourage drunken hooliganism among sports fans, just imagine what they could do for drug users if we had social acceptance, big bucks and a few good lobbyists. Every American city could have a black light district where throbbing techno music and screaming electric guitars wail 24-7-365, beneath UV street lights. Someplace where even the poorest, dirtiest, hippie can pick up a sack of free, government subsidized, ganja buds, grown in prisons by former bankers, politicians, and real estate bloodsuckers trying to rehabilitate themselves.

 

Cities could take as much pride in their chemists, dealers and growers as they do in their sports teams, local delicacies or festivals. Yes, drug users deserve at least as much respect as sports fans, fat people, or festival fools, and we deserve to have businesspeople bribing government agencies to make our wildest chemical fantasies, real.

 

After all, drug users have money. Otherwise, they couldn’t afford to buy drugs. We all know that in this country, if you have money, people have to kiss your ass, no matter how evil you are. If I have to live in a country where we systematically reward greed and subsidize evil, I want drugs, lots of them, and plenty of time to enjoy them, and make it snappy!

 

I firmly believe in this dream, and have worked my whole life to make this dream a reality, mainly by getting high, and being stoned in public whenever possible. Whether I’m at work, in church, or behind the wheel, you can bet that I’m good and stoned, and when I’m stoned, I recognize that I am an ambassador for stoned people everywhere.

 

I realize that some of the people around me might not take drugs. They might not have spent much time around stoned people, or at least don’t realize how stoned the people around them really are. I want to make a good impression on these people. I try to set a good example for stoned people. I want them to see stoned people as responsible, caring, self-motivated people. I can only keep up the charade for a while, but I do my best.

 

As stoned people, we have a lot of propaganda to overcome. For generations, the media has portrayed drug users as either lazy, stupid, irresponsible slackers, or crazed psychopathic killers. Drug users suffer tremendously from the prejudice these stereotypes create and reinforce. Worse even than the stereotypes themselves, is the pervasive attitude that drug use, and drug users should not be tolerated in society.

 

Look at how the media portrays sports fans. The media generally portray sports fans as affable morons. We expect them to drink at least a six-pack a day. We expect them to be stupid, and easily enraged. We expect them to beat their wives when their team loses the Superbowl, and we expect them to riot in the streets when their team wins the Superbowl, but by and large, they are nice, likable people. That’s how the media portrays sports fans.

 

As a result, we tolerate sports fans, we celebrate them, and we make substantial allowances for their eccentricities. If this country can embrace, celebrate, and subsidize people who admire adults who play with balls, this country can embrace, celebrate and subsidize its recreational drug users, but first we have to overcome this learned prejudice.

 

Because of all of the media conditioning, when people see a pile of empty beer bottles alongside the roadway, they think: “Oh, those affable sports fans, they’re just too stupid to know any better. That’s why we have volunteers who remove roadside litter.”

 

…but when they see big pile of spent NO2 cartridges laying on the road, they think: “Those goddamn drug abusers. They have no respect, no sense of decency, and all they care about is their next fix. That’s why we have prisons.”

 

So look, you kids who leave your spent whippit cartridges all over the roadside, I know whippets aren’t illegal, and you are still a kid, even if not an actual juvenile. I also know that whippets are hella fun, if you are careful.

I want you to have fun, and I want you to be careful, because I want all of your drug experiences to be injury, fatality, and arrest free, but mainly, I WANT YOU TO STOP DITCHING YOUR FUCKING NO2 CARTRIDGES ALL OVER THE FUCKING ROADS.

 

Those piles of cartridges make all drug abusers look bad. They set stoned/straight relations back at least a decade. I know its just good clean fun, but they look as bad as used needles.

Recycle them. Put them in the receptacle for “cans”, or barring that, the trash. If you are really into NO2, get one of those big 84 cu ft refillable tanks, put down the $150 or so deposit, and just buy the gas.

 

Those tanks hold a lot of NO2, enough to give you and all of your friends a few splitting headaches, with plenty to spare. So, share! That way, fewer people will have to buy those wasteful one shot cartridges, and you get your money back when you return the tank.

 

Please work with me on this. Let’s stop trashing the countryside with our spent whippit cartridges. Join the campaign to:

 

Just Say NO 2 NO2 Litter.

 

…And once in your life, preferably while you are still young, and your arteries are still flexible, sit down, take a great big deep breath of NO2, and hold it, while you are peaking on a strong LSD trip. It’s kinda like bungie jumping in reverse. Don’t forget to sit down first. Have fun kids.