Drugs and alcohol
Posted Apr 1, 2003
I must confess that I am a little late in the game when it comes to drugs and alcohol. (I am 24) I have only within the past month begun drinking, mostly "MGD" beer and "Tullamore Dew" Irish Whiskey. However, the whiskey it turns out I am allergic to for it caused my tongue to break out in white splotches and begin a numb/burnt feeling. So I stopped drinking the whiskey, which let me walk a half step behind myself as all good whiskey should, and am sticking with the beer for now. This previous Friday, today being Monday, I tried pot for the first time. (GASP! and all that) Well, maybe not so much gasp for most ppl, but definitely Gasp for me, I'm such a good boy. Snort. Anyway, as for pot. No allergic reaction, but a reaction nonetheless. I'm pretty sure that I'm not the only one that has an inner monologue of myself, or what I think I sound like, in my own head. For others I would hope it would be their own self they heard. Anyway, my own monologue began ranting incesently, then began interupting and having a conversation with itself. My monologue, which only every now and then would take on double levels, seemed to take on about four, with me presiding on some level, though I'm not sure which. It's very disconcerting to say the least. Of course at the same time I'm aware that I'm grinning like the Cheshire cat, feeling in general like I'm inside my own skin. Way inside. And feeling airconditioning in an all new way. Yet all normal actions still take care of themselves. For a while I thought about subconscious and conscious levels of thoughts, if they had filp-flopped, but after about ten seconds or so I crawled into bed and went to sleep, hoping that I could sleep it off. Eventually I did. I didn't like it. I don't like being disconcerted. I definitely won't be doing that again. I think I'll stick to beer and whiskey, if I can find some I can drink.
A Shot (of Whiskey) in the Dark
Posted Mar 30, 2003
The Millennium passed a few years ago. I doubt seriously that there will ever be one that has quite as much impact as that one did, excepting of course the final one, if there really ever is one. But I don’t think there will be. As to the former, well, in the past there just wasn’t enough people in the world to create the particular mob-psychology which, as most experts would agree, oft times possesses crowds, carrying all within them under its instinct, much like a flock of birds turning and migrating as one. And it takes a very large obstacle indeed to get in their attention, something that they can’t just flow around. But the digital realms, as opposed to the heavenly and celestial realms, brought humanity, if one is so inclined to call it that, together in ways that the latter two could not. Mob-humanity was allowed for a brief time to ride that wave of global instinct brought forth through global communication. Tension was there, as the crest of that wave. Tension at what might happen, for all felt, even if they did not realize, that this moment had been the first moment that humanity had ever been somewhat united for an event. And with all the doomsayers and fanatics and mathematicians declaring to the world whatever each one was declaring, I don’t actually remember, no one knew what to expect. Even those who only expected a really good party were slightly worried, mostly about the idiots around them, but worried none the less. As for the centuries and millenniums to follow, I doubt any will ever have an uppercase to them anymore, humanity will have learned from experience that the end of the world doesn’t happen from date changes. For Man made the calendar (I speak here of humanity in general, not men, even though I think it probably was a man that designed the first “modern” calendars) and he changes it to suit his will, adding holidays and taking them away, making the dates signify whatever he wants.
Such as March 17th.
Just a couple days past the Ides of March, which is the 15th, and this year, a day before the full moon and three days before the vernal equinox, which will fall on March 20th, this special day falls. But what is March 17th? If thrown this date from nowhere during some other time of year, and asked what is was, most people probably couldn’t tell you, I certainly couldn’t, I rarely remember what month its in. Well, now I could because I’ve got it stuck in my head. March 17th is St. Patrick’s Day. “Oh,” you think, “I should have known that.” Well, there’re so many holidays now that it’s rather difficult to keep track of them. Besides, St. Patrick’s Day didn’t become a holiday to be celebrated until late in the 18th century, unlike Easter, which has been celebrated since, well, in one form of another, since before Christianity even existed. But that’s a different matter all together.
But what is St. Patrick’s Day? Well, its day to wear green so you don’t get pinched, or, if your into that kind of thing, not wearing green for just that purpose. It’s a day to say, “Go Irish,” but in this day and time, which Irish should we be rooting for, they are at war with themselves you know. Ok, aside from revolution and civil war and all that seeming nonsense of fighting for what you believe in (I should think every American sympathizes with the trials of formerly being under British rule), it’s about…Leprechauns? Little green men? Sure, capture one and you can have them lead you to their pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, or grant you a wish. Or, if you’re like me and are in perpetual need of shoe repair, or indeed, a new pair of shoes all together, well, they’re quite adapt at cobbling you know, and I’m not referring to old streets or sounding like a turkey. Cobbling is, in a quite generalized sense, shoe work. You could do research on how to capture these little people, but it’d be much easier to go to the local store and buy a cheap pair of sneakers, less adventurous, but probably far more profitable, or at least, far less costly. I have also heard tell that you can leave them a saucer of milk outside the kitchen door for them, then again I’ve heard of leaving them a bottle whiskey there too, just to keep them on the friendly side.
No, St. Patrick’s day isn’t about the wee folk, or the fair folk. It’s about their banishment. Or rather, it’s in celebration of the man who did the banishing, the Christian missionary, and former slave, Succat. Well, Succat was his British name. The Roman name that he adopted for himself was Patrick, and he was sold into slavery to Pagan kings In Ireland when he was 16, around A.D. 400. This isn’t a history lesson, and so without going into details, he pretty much began the Christianization of Ireland. It could be said that he drove all the snakes out of Ireland. Well, that is said of him, and whether its true or not, it has quite an allusion to devils and anything non-Christian, as snakes often represent. When we think of Ireland, however, we don’t think of how Christian they are (well, maybe those stereotyped, fiery tempered Irish Catholic redheads), we think of the Fair Folk, pixies and fairies, the land of Faerie, rolling green hills and all that. Ironic that the one holiday originating out of a Christian event turns into a day to think about Leprechauns, while most, if not all, the other celebrated Christian holidays are stolen from “pagan” rituals and foreign gods. Again, that’s beside the point (right beside it.)
You think of good whiskey too, though I’ve never tried the Irish beer. Last night, was the first that I ever tried the whiskey though, some “Tellamor Dew.” Good, dry stuff that hits you a second later and lets you walk half a step behind yourself for about half an hour. My first shot was a double shot-glass, filled to the brim and toasted the Old Folk, “May you live happy in this world, and may this country be as a home away from home for you.” Well, it was something along those lines anyway. Yeah, I know, be careful watch you wish for, but you gotta' be willin’ to have a little adventure in this world, or what’s it all for.
Well, I ate dinner, had a “few” more shots of that good stuff, and then I did something odd, even odd for me. I set out a double shot glass full on the back porch for them; up on the table so none of the neighborhood animals would get to it. I’d hate for the Fair folk to go getting angry at the poor animals for drinking the gifts. Then I went to bed. I woke early Wednesday morning the 18th, showered and got ready for work. I checked the back porch and I could barely steel myself to bring the glass back inside and set on the shelf.