How Weed Legalization in California is Changing Cannabis Culture
It's always lovely when a civilization, after a long period of peace having accumulated a certain fat, begins simultaneously to decay and to flourish. It fills one at once with regret and admiration: la Douceur de vivre. What magical times. One of the signs that we are having an extra-ordinarily Sweet Moment, historically speaking, is that everybody looks well--you gotta admit, I think, that our lovely young millennials are extra-ordinarily fit, healthy and well groomed. They have personal trainers, for god's sakes. They pay people to help them look as good as they possibly can--And when they are 22 years old, with regular features and no disqualifying defects, they can look very good indeed.
I burn hot. I tend to exhaust people in conversation, like Margaret Fuller did Carlyle. Which leaves me (but apparently not Margaret) always wishing I'd shut up sooner. I have quite a few friends and not many enemies, but I'm very proud of the few I do have. There is consensus among my friends about me, which is how I know to write about myself. What my enemies think of me I have no idea. That, of course, could be dangerous.
The list of interests and favorites is absurdly partial and half-assed, particularly as to music and books. It's the stupid format of the blog itself, as given, that, of course, I color outside the lines and burst the seams of.
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