Marijuana Monologues

Social Forums Non-Philosophical Chat
1

This thread may only be written in when you’re toked on pot. Please, no exceptions.

Random thoughts on marijuana:

On Paranoia

Some people walk around in life with the fear of constantly being watched by somebody else. It is a feeling, but nevertheless, a fear. One must go
beyond this.

(incredible laughter, triggered by a song)–the song reminded me of my professor who I really like (not in the way you think) ← this fear was triggered by homophobia (<- this comment was triggered by insecurity) ← that comment was triggered by pretentiousness ← this comment was triggered by insecurity ← this comment was triggered by lonliness ← this was said because of sadness ← this was said in search of empathy ← this was caused by sadness (commentary has ended due to frustration), but in a friendly type way. He’s a really rad proffessor, and the song was about a prof with dark shades, and it was a cool song, hence, the mental association.

On words

Has anyone noticed the connection between: Awful and awe full? There’s something to that if you think about it. When some sense becomes so awe full, to the extreme, it becomes aweful. Ok, fine, if you don’t buy that, you don’t buy that–I’m just putting the things out there. Geez! Play nice now, will you – heh.

On ‘Internet Community’

Does anyone notice the incredible significance of the existence of a community like ours? We are all in different time zones, from different countries, with different nationalities, religions, beliefs, philosophies–and here we all are–a true community. Do you think this community differes much from a community in the real world? How so? You know what? It doesn’t. And we are so much better, in certain ways when one thinks about it. We are able to share such intimate things online, things that would be very difficult to say as an individual-in-the-real-world, yet as an anynonmous entity, within an internet forum, these things become easy for us to say; for, people, that is all that we are: anononmous entities.

Think, one cannot even know if I am, or am not, a 20 year old male from nyc. Perhaps, I’m really a 79 year old genius, with an incredible imagination, who has invented this “The Underground Man” protagonist, and covered this alias as a 20 year old guy playing the role of Tum-- and the truth is, that I’m 79 years old woman and have tricked you all. How can you know what is the truth? And no, you can’t meet me; now, how do you know? All this is merley to illustrate the true type of anonymous nature of an online forum. Hence, we are able to be more intimate here than in any real-life scenario (as strangers at least, though not excluded, to friends and family).

And notice the nature of this, live, organic, organism: the online forum. We, individuals, make this place up; we, individuals, give this place a sense of warmth, or coldness, and at times, harshness. This alternate world, this community, has a nature to it, do you see it? And we have created this organism, by bringing into this world, our-selves.

Notice the roles this forum helps some of us indulge in. Has no one noticed emracetrees and Bessy playing mother and daughter? I think, the longer this forum exists, the stronger these type of relationships will develop. And roles of friends are created in the same way, as well as multitudes of other roles. An online forum seems to fullfill needs and longings which are not being fullfilled in real life (just a hypotheses). (And, of course, that comment was just insecurity, but, I won’t bore you with that clever tease into myself again. ← A clever psychological reaction, me stoping your insult by stating it of myself myself – hah. It is a pity how much energy is wasted due to insecurity, no?)

So, after a while, what have we here? A family? I mean, a communal family, right? Mind fucking in the literal sense.

On Love

For anyone who thinks that they love the one inside, rather than the body, answer me this: Would you speak to someone online and not ask them how old they are? If you were interested in dating a person, could you decide if you’re interested or not, without knowing their age, without knowing how they look? Or is the sexual motivation prime? If the sexual motivation wasn’t prime, then wouldn’t you be able to look for a potential lover without even knowing if they were male or female (I don’t mean physical love here). Obviously, we wouldn’t, or, most of us wouldn’t (this can be applied to gays in the same way, just reversed). So sexual motivation must be prime. And yet, missing the intangible lover, the sexual experience is empty, and unfullfilling, even disgusting.

Some say this person is only a projection of one’s mind, one’s own imagination. It is nonsense. We see the person, because we are able to see an ego which is hurt, or moved, by our actions towards them. We can force ourselves not to look, but realize, what self-decpetion that is.

My high has begun to wear off, and in keeping with the self-imposed rules, I shall end this session – to be back another day.

2

Firstly, I smoke pretty much every day, but I feel it more like a tool for objectivity than anything else, sometimes I’ll just get blasted and put in a cool movie, but for the most part I’m high when I’m writing.

That being said… I think it only follows that we now need to talk about the nature of creativity. Can I be a more ‘creative’ writer because I am high? and possibily more objective? This is a tough question, words can be interpreted differently and thus ‘judging’ is a hard word to use in this instance. However, take the game of basketball for example, I’m a varsity athlete and I also play basketball pretty much every day. I love to play high, and it’s predicated on a few things. Because i am doing an activity which I can compare to sober, but which involved the workings of the body and mind, instead of just the mind as I sit there and type out words. When I play I feel like time is somewhat slower, this leads to a feeling of increased creativity while i’m playing… because it’s like a I have that extra .0000000001 of a second to think about what I want to do next at any given instance.

Now for me, that is a fact, it always remains constant, I am simply doing things that I would not be thinking of were I sober. There are downsides to playing high though, (dehydration, awareness, social awkwardness etc). So perhaps time is tied to creativity, that is perhaps a leap, but time is relative. If I spend an hour staring at my hand after eating 5 grams of shrooms… to me, 5 hours have passed.

3

anybody can be creative when theyre high, but it takes a true artist to do amazing work without it.

person reading book: “how ever did he come up with that?! and what were his motives?!”
person 2:“he was stoned”
person: “oh.”

4

what if the true artist smokes pot?

get my drift?

5

but then it isnt pure. his creative mind has been tempered with, therefore part of his art is chemicals.

6

All the brain is chemicals… what if his ‘creative’ mind is the mind that exists while all these chemicals and neurotransmitters are in a certain way?

7

many artists dont do pot. does this mean their “chemicals and neurotransmitters” are a certain way?

beesides, pot isnt natural for people to smoke. it may be organic, but people arent meant to have overproduction of serotonin

8

It means they are artists who don’t do pot. You’re missing my point.

Although I agree with the serotonin thing… at least kind of, whose to tell us what was ‘meant’ to go in our bodies? Maybe we wern’t meant to eat olives?

9

“anybody can be creative when theyre high”?
“true artist”?
“amazing work”?
“it isn’t pure”?
“part of his art is chemicals”?
“…people aren’t meant to…”?

I’d like to know more of your philosophy. It seems that all you’ve shared here are platitudes and generalizations.

Your perspective seems to resemble mine a few years ago. In particular, I became disgusted (is there a stronger word? I remember feeling revulsion) with other musicians in a small-town scene. We had 2 or 3 clubs at any given time that welcomed our music and associated art. I reasoned that the art itself had a purity that required respect, and care, and attention. It followed somehow for me that some of the participants in the scene shouldn’t be getting high.

I was sold on this, completely enrolled. It’s not nearly as significant to observe that it affected my art, e.g., most people have already figured out that it got in the way of my expression. I’d noticed this, too, but I blamed the others I’d identified as wrong, bad and wrong they were to me, and if they would only modify their behavior, I could have what I wanted.

Let us take a moment and realize that I am describing a model of the world, of reality. I related to that model as though it was the world. Certainly I’m doing so right now, although I imagine that my current model is “better” (ha, ha), “more refined” (uh, oh), and not that old, non-working model. That is, I may very possible be describing a precursor to my current paradigm collection, my view of reality.

When I discarded the idea that other artists should/shouldn’t be a certain way, I had already left the scene. I’d literally moved away. It wasn’t simply because they were wrong and I was right. I remember more of a gradual erosion, a loss of my creativity; I had, indeed, blamed others for my own inability to produce art. No new songs in six months, fading interest in others’ new songs, plus zero activity with peripheral activities, where I had once enthusiastically volunteered (posters, radio station visits, roadie stuff, etc).

I had to see someone else doing it before I could see myself doing it. I watched good friends ditch their drummer because he’d given up pot. I learned later that it wasn’t simply his personal choice, but his preaching about how they should do the same that ended the relationship–and that they didn’t ditch him, he quit.

I could go on, but my anecdotal evidence seems thin. I’m saying that to identify any single factor (e.g., marijuana) as relevant to every human being’s creativity is a red herring at best, and possibly a deliberate canard.

Who cares what it takes to get the artist to the point where s/he can let go and be? Can we not appreciate the art itself, without requiring details about the artist’s lifestyle? Habits? Beliefs?

Consider that, in the Middle East, a doctor’s first question is, “What is your religion?”

Recall the question, “A woman without a man is like a fish without a bicycle.”

Is it possible for me, a conscious human being, to let go of how I think others should live their lives long enough to appreciate art?

I hope so. At least some of the time, anyway. Surely I have–and will continue to–have experiences where I regard art and am not moved because of one or more decisions I’ve made. That is, I prevent myself from experiencing in favor of thinking.

Further consideration of the artist who used, e.g., pot to create a particular work of art. What if this is the only time s/he ever used pot? How is this different from the work of an artist who is stoned all the time?

Finally, how does anyone know for certain what an artist’s mind has to do with art? It is known (okay, believed) that pot affects a human being’s perception of reality: colors seem brighter because the pupils are dilated (also, headlights seem brighter); time seems distorted because the hypothalamus’ basal ganglia literally process reality in a different way than usual. These two factors alone could be construed as simulating a purely artistic experience, i.e., time stands still, things look/sound/feel/taste/smell differently, etc.

So if “pure art” is only claimable by people who’ve only had “pure experiences”, then the artist is an elite of sorts. Art cannot be taught; you either get it or you don’t, and you have no way of knowing whether you ever will. Art is somehow predestined; like the old Catholic church once asserted, some have been granted grace, but must behave in a certain way lest they fall from grace. The rest of us are welcome to join the Church, but we’re wasting everyone’s time because we shall never know Glory.

There’s nothing wrong with this perspective. I assert that this could very possibly be the optimum position from which to create the highest volume of art of the highest quality.

I just happen to prefer a different lifestyle. I like to get stoned. I like to experience art when I’m high–and when I’m not. I don’t create like I used to–except at work, and with my mate. That is, I still experience the divined detachment, the sensation of being, the absence of thought which can only be recognized after it has ended. I cannot know this state except in retrospect, for no knowledge is accessible through logic when I am simply being.

For some, it comes while playing tennis. Others know it from riding horses. I have known it while reading, while appreciating art, while speaking, while performing, while writing, while doing most anything which does not require conscious thought.

Is that not what we are thinking so hard about? Not having to think? Experiencing the profound privilege of being?

10

Alright this would be funny. Material for Mad TV or SNL if I sent it to them, although I’m hoping you see what I see when I explain it. I see it as if it is already written and recorded.

I don’t know if people outside of the US know of this fad, but there was a brief period a year or two ago when the sexually explicit concept of the “MILF” was made into a public competition where mothers around the area would enter to win. I heard about the competition several times on the radio and a few times mentioned by various people in person.

So we have this pornographic concept symbolising “mothers who I’d like to f**k” made into a form of entertainment and good clean family fun. It is here where I see the irony…

The setting is a dinner table. The year is in the early fifties. The family is likened to the “Beaver’s” family. (I forget the last name.) Anyway, you get the idea. A respectable and conservative middle class family of christian morals.

Over dinner, they discuss the chances of the mother winning, who has entered the competition. The dialect is that generic happy-cheerful everything-is-great, and everytime one of them says “mother I’d like to f**k,” its bleeped out and the subtext “MILF” appears at the bottom of the screen.

It is crucial that it is said many times over and the scripts must be written around the use of that phrase, so that it is overwhelmingly inappropriate. I’m sure you can imagine many ways which it can be taken. For example, the son, who is, say…seven, at some point says "gee mom, I’d vote for you because you sure are a [cue bleep and subtext]. Then the mother responds "well thank you, son, I would love to be your favorite [cue bleep and subtext].

And you would also want to dub in several laugh tracks which would cue at each punchline.

11

Old_Gobbo

And this is precisely why the advertising industry has a symbiotic relationship with us all.
That’s the tag-line, now isn’t it?
What the storm has wrought?

I think sometimes if we grow up responding naturally to the threads in Culture & Art that have come about by previous spells of society enhancing symbioses… then we will have a ready-made predilection for narcotic vice instilled.
Curiousity. You know? Seeing the grown-ups getting the jokes. Why are they laughing? What is there yet to understand. To perceive?
Why it’s gathering perspectives is what it is.
If you are to sculpt from the blank possibility that is the rejoinder ~ then how better equipped are you if you’ve just smoked a fatty?
Peace

12

What do you get when you mix a Muscular Philosopher who ponders the possibility of God commiting a sexual violation and a Mucius Scevola who in his pious nature would consider it outrageous and unthinkable?

A Muscular Scevola or a Mucius Philosopher?

Oh my god that was the stupidest joke I have ever told. I apologize to both Mucius Scevola and Muscular Philosopher for involving their names in my pathetic attempt to say something funny. Its only that when I saw the Muscular Philosopher name I was, of course, prompted to think of Scevola momentarily because of the similarity of spelling and appearance of “Mucius” and “Muscular,” and it was here that the joke had its origins.

Please forgive me.

13

I must make a public confession so that I can rest easy tonight in repentance.

I was sitting at a stop-light today, which is at the corner where a mortuary sits. Some event had just happened and several people were standing at the entrance outside and around the sidewalk, close to the intersection.

Right before the light turned green I said loudly out of my truck window: “you know, people are just dying to get in there.”

I was with somebody so obviously I was trying to be funny, but I made other people the victim of my joke and I feel terrible right now.

…

SIKE!

Muwahahahahaaaaaaa… :evilfun:

14

I would deconstruct everything.

Sanity is personal.

When you’re down and out, you’ve still got your own, personal grasp on reality. This is an individual’s sanity. Like a single sinusoidal wave amidst a roiling river of infinite others, brothers and sisters.

It was Orwell’s Winston spake: Just because you’re a minority of one does not make you insane.

Ey? I must deconstruct this. It’s back. What’s the point of an individual’s sanity then? But to merely contribute. To throw one’s lot in. Why not burst the banks of this thread then? Why not become so turbulent but to overflow any particular rut and change course? Why not put on some Casino Soul?

Or well we might all better get in step. To the tune of a beat or some millitant ideal. Either tributary is a dispenser of excess natural energy borne of evolutionary advantage necessarily.

Whammie.
Peace!