Duuuuuuuuuuude. Like that dudes totally ummmmmm, what was I saying? Did I say that or just think it… Whoa! Look at my hands!
I’m gonna quit my job and rent the Matrix, tomorrow.
I say old chap, be a good fellow and top up my snifter of fine aged scotch whiskey. We’ll have one more drink, solve the middle east crisis, and then retire, ehhh? Also, quantum physics.
I wonder what he might think of people who like scotch, weed, books and conversation? Because I think they would be a lot more fun to be around than this crusty old fart.
The death throes of the “anglo-saxon daddy” are without irony, self-awareness, or passion and so they depart same as they arrived. nice knowin’ ya, pilgrim.
Consider a suave scotch and soda. One does not sit down to a scotch and soda to get blitzed, unless one is a veritable drunk. One sits down and sips a scotch and soda while conversing with friends.
Now I’m starting to question his “rich old white dude” credentials. I’ve been at exclusive events where veritable titans of industry have gathered to get completely shitfaced on expensive scotch. Yes, they were conversing—but a lot of that conversation involved off-color jokes and bawdy songs.
He is either traveled here from some parallel universe version of the nineteenth century, or he never had friends. Scotch and soda is not, and never was the drink of choice for someone who intended on fending off the chill, it’s the drink of choice for people whose idea of a “couple” is enough to put most in a coma. I wonder if it’s a troll though? Really the idea that people don’t smoke weed and have conversations? Really?
And what’s the name of R. Emmet Drunky McKettleblack’s most famous book?
I sure as hell can’t. I’ll get halfway through a sentence and forget how it started. I think it’s called having no tolerance.
This is why I don’t call myself a conservative.
I’m much more likely to aspire to the “Republican Party Reptile” lifestyle, as espoused by P.J. O’Rourke:
Name me, if you can, a better feeling than the one you get when you’re half a bottle of Chivas in the bag with a gram of coke up your nose and a teenage lovely pulling off her tube top in the next seat over while you’re going a hundred miles an hour down a suburban side street. You’d have to watch the entire Mexican air force crash-land in a liquid petroleum gas storage facility to match this kind of thrill. If you ever have much more fun than that, you’ll die of pure sensory overload, I’m here to tell you.
But my bourbon is infused with umm hemp, is that ok?
What the actual fuck?
Possibly these findings might bear on Michael Brown’s erratic behavior in Ferguson, Missouri, before his tragic death. We know that the 6’4", 292-pound teenager was at least on marijuana. We know that ten minutes before he was shot he robbed a liquor store of cheap cigars. And, at least some of us know, that those Swisher Sweet cigars are used as a conduit for ingesting a mixture of PCP and marijuana. My guess is that Brown’s senseless death was brought on by what the psychiatrists mentioned in the above paragraph have referred to as psychosis and permanent brain injury.
Could be worse, though. One of our local TV stations did a report on the nightly news (remember what that was?) about a kid who suffers from several seizures a day, and has a prescription for strawberry-flavored marijuana oil. The oil comes from a variety that has very little THC, but high in cannabinoids. You’re not going to get high on the stuff. This didn’t stop the fundies from getting angry that the parents might be letting their small child smoke joints…which shows how much attention they’re paying.
I become the annoying professor. I start thinking in mathematics, then when I say that to someone and they don’t get it, I have to explain special relativity to them, and it feels really important that I get them to understand how profoundly awe inspiring the world is when you can see the mathematical model that describes it.
Then people get bored and walk away. And I sit there mumbling to myself about fractals and population dynamics and chaos theory and what free will actually means.
ETA: So yeah, I can’t say I have much tolerance for the devil’s weed. I end up being completely unable to communicate as my brain frame-shifts between mathematically subtitling what I’m seeing, and being implored to describe the experience to everyone.
Seriously, that sounds like a really interesting conversation! 
Bob Tyrell, founder and editor-in-chief of The American Spectator…
Never, ever, trust the word of a founder named Tyrell.
Pshaw, you’re just being nice. It’s only interesting to people who really love science and math, and the stoners I ever get to hang out with are a lot more interested in art, and having social lives. I’m sure anyone’d have enough when they realize I’ve been repeating the same point about relativistic and gravitational frame-dragging for half-an-hour
That or the six bullets. I guess we’ll never really know the truth.
Well, if it’s either/or, I like scotch a lot, so…
Balanced by the fact I’ve never had weed, and don’t see any reason for it to be either/or anyway.
I’m sure there’s a flaw in my logic (and his, or maybe just my understanding of it) but it seems that, according to his argument, coffee is more civilized than scotch. Therefore scotch must be made illegal.
