Please stop trying to expand my mind. Every where I turn, people are talking about psychedelics like I’m doing something wrong because I haven’t tripped balls with a Peruvian Guru.
Shaman, sorry, Peruvian fucking shaman.
And when the fuck did Denver become the city of unreality with it’s free pot and legal mushrooms? I say free pot, because the last time I was in there, I just stood at the bus stop for 5 minutes and had a contact high for 3 days.
Next time let’s see what kind of mushrooms fall off the table at the Denver farmer’s market…
Not that I oppose legalization. Do all the drugs you want. As long as you don’t steal my stuff or drool or puke on me, I don’t give a fuck. And I’m happy you will be paying taxes. And maybe we won’t lock up more people than China — just because they wanted an artifical escape from this vale of tears for 12 hours…
If the time and crowd are right, I might join you in the milder stuff (I’m not going to shoot heroin in the park for fuck’s sake).
But let’s stop with the guilt trips and propoganda that psycho shit makes you special. Michael Pollan came out with a book, (How to Change your Mind) Elon Musk said acid makes him smart and Silicon Valley “leaders” are all into micro-dosing.
Ok, Ok, I’ve been listenting a lot to the Joe Rogan Experience. I’ve got 4 hours a week to kill in the car, and it’s a pretty good way to get through the trip (so to speak).
Rogan calls himself a “Psychedelic Astronaut.” And frequently has fellow psyche-nauts relaying all the benefits of their travels.
Good for them. I get that they enjoy it, and it makes them feel “connected to the universe.”
But he always “sets up” his non-astro guests like this:
- First he asks their opinion about psycho-active subtances.
- If they give anything less than a full-throated endorsement, he asks them if they have ever done psychedelics?
- If they say, “No”, he always says how silly or ill-informed they sound. “How do you know if you have never done it — you are speaking from ignorance…” or some shit like that.
Well fuck, I’ve never eaten a rat, but that doesn’t make me stupid because I don’t want to eat rodents.
It’s the same argument the religious use: “Have you ever really accepted [fill in name of God here] in your heart? If you haven’t, you just don’t know.”
Well, fuck that noise. Just like I don’t want to hear stories about your favorite (of the 3,000) fictional character you think created the universe, I don’t really care if talking to the purple tiger in his pajamas made you understand the “true universe”.
You are welcome to your own delusions — I’ll stick to my tenious hold on what I think is reality without rewiring my brain so I can “smell colors.”
The Atheist’s Children
My friend Mike, the atheist, has two 30-something sons. They have lived in California too fucking long… so they went on a “cleanse” (shit themselves silly) and then to Peru for a little trip down Aywaska lane.
“They came back all ‘peaceful’ and conviced that we are all one and that people are really good at heart,” Mike said, with the kind of disdain nuns have for teenage boys who get caught masturbating in math class.
He said he had no idea how much it cost.
Hit the google, looks like about $5k. You can find them on “TripAdvisor” for fuck’s sake.
For $5k I can find a lot of ways to expand my own mind. Here’s my favorite:
I’m going to spend $5k on a beach vacation in San Diego this summer and read Michael Pollan’s book, while I drink a bucket full of triple Mai Tais in the shade.
If you hear I started doing acid in September, you’ll know the psychedelic astronauts got me.
You don’t know me… maybe 2020 will be the year I enroll in Aywaska U and trip balls in Peru?