The David Brooks column about
maybe notsomuch don’t make a habit of it ok maybe once a week IF you’re an upper-middle-class white guy pot-smoking is a treasure that makes me want to frolic uninhibitedly. But the Gary Greenberg response to his column makes me want to huff some Krylon Posh Pink Glitter Blast and run around in a circle like a coked-up monkey ’til I puke beautiful pink sparklevom. I mean this as a compliment. (Thanks for the link, Incontinentia Buttocks!!)
Here’s a highlight. Or should I say highlight?
I was so impressed with the way Dave pulled himself together then. He didn’t beg for mercy or fight with the cop. Somehow he knew exactly how to go all bar mitzvah boy, how to talk to authority, how to flatter and impress and toady, even stoned to the gills, like his inner Eddie Haskell was deeper down than the pot could get.
Most of the entry is that good. Read it.
I have stuff to say about Brooks’ prissy little admonition. Stuff I already wrote in Loomis’ thread, but will write again here, because it’s JUST. THAT. GOOD.
thrills from the enlargements of the heart
All I ever got from my enlarged heart was lots of surgery. Which I guess is thrilling in its own way.
So, like the vast majority of people who try drugs, we aged out. We left marijuana behind. I don’t have any problem with somebody who gets high from time to time, but I guess, on the whole, I think being stoned is not a particularly uplifting form of pleasure and should be discouraged more than encouraged.
Translation: I no longer get pleasure from smoking pot, therefore no one should.
UPDATE: Turns out the Gary Greenberg post is satire. Awesome. To say “that I believed it says something about David Brooks” is basically just the liberal mirror image of “which is central to my point.” So, THANKS, Gary Greenberg for making me look like an asshole! Great satire!
Um, I guess it’s still… amusing? I’m less likely to sparkleovomit in appreciation, however.