michael-dean-k/

On Monday 6/15, I'm hosting a workshop to kick off a reading group for classic essays: RSVP here.

Topic

weed

3 pieces

The many yous of yourself

· 501 words

In response to Alex's post here (it is neat that we can go back and forth with two independent sites) ... I also find myself using "you" a lot when I'm writing for myself.

My guess as to why this happens is that a person isn't really a static singular self. Of course we know on some level that we all evolve and change through life. But writing is something that accelerates the sharding, forking, splitting, becoming. When I write "you shouldn't check your email when you wake up" (which I did today), it's as if the person who realizes this (me, now) is different from the person from an hour ago who did not. How could that person lack the clarity and values that present me has?! And so the writer, "the I" of the moment, is something like a parental superego that emerges to steer/synchronize the past/future self. The writer is an insight implementation personality.

There's probably also something to "you" being more abstract and generalizable. Even though personal and relatable grounded writing is anchored in "I," the I also acts as a a blinder, only seeing from a limited, narrow vantage point. And so you can levitate above yourself to see the "yous" and "wes" and how this thing you need to internalize is actually a general principle that anyone could ingest. A "you" is more abstractable.

(...I can still recall this moment in my childhood home, maybe at 18 years old, slightly high, where I remembered, deep in the pantry, that I wasn't thinking, but watching myself think. And maybe that dissociative power of weed is what enables/unlocks abstract thinking...)

The irony here is that this inverts traditional advice. If you're writing personal essays with an audience in mind, the tip is "no second person sermons!" (as in, don't use "you" because it's preachy and it infers that you are lecturing and therefore above your audience). I get that. But when I write purely for myself, I find myself using "you" all the time.

If I really am I collection of selves, then shouldn't I write to myself in "we"? Was Smeagol/Gollum onto something? This is the logical extension of my whole theory above, and that makes me question it. It feels wrong. It also points to the Pessoa/Jung divide. Pessoa saw himself as a cabinet of 70 pseudonyms, each with their own personality and literary voice and fictional backstory. Jung's main concept was "individuation" that all the selves should strive to integrate into a single higher Self, a unified personality.

What if I framed it as, "I won't check email in the morning anymore"? Is this preferable? Does framing it in "I" mean that the current you is the same you that sinned not long ago? Does this framing require you to take responsibility? And so is that act of framing the past self as a "you" actually an act of avoiding responsibility? Was Pessoa just a shifty bastard, a brilliant coward to not be emulated?

Concert Edibles Then and Now

· 199 words

In the decade before pot was legalized in New York, if you wanted edibles, it came in the form of a homemade brownie, and it’s unbelievable to think the dosages of those might have been 100-300 mg per brownie. For context, the legal limit now is 5-10 mg per gummy. Here’s what GPT has to say on the level required for edibles to turn psychedelic:

“Edibles become distinctly psychedelic—with altered time perception, visual distortions, auditory hallucinations, ego dissolution, and intense introspection—typically around 50–100mg of THC, especially for those with low tolerance. For some sensitive users, 30–50mg can already induce quasi-psychedelic effects. Beyond 150–200mg, even experienced users can experience full-on tripping: melting visuals, looping thoughts, loss of body awareness, and encounters with archetypal or “divine” mental imagery.

There was zero issue in bringing edibles into the Sphere, and maybe that’s obvious, but I can only compare it to the paranoia of trying to bring brownies into MSG a decade ago (which really was more like eating the whole thing outside—50-100 mg?—before, for fear of getting caught, and then peaking right when the opener is done, to a 45 minutes experience of the chatter of 19,500 people turning into a terrifying white noise). Now it’s legal and destigmatized, and you can take small doses every 45 minutes to space out and control the high. They should probably have an edible stand directly inside the venue. Why not? Is an alcohol overdose not way more troublesome and messy than a weed overdose? Even though it’s all legal now, it will probably take another generation for it to be as casual as alcohol or coffee. Each has their function. Marijuana brings heightened introspection and perception, which is an obvious choice for any concert or aesthetic experience.

Green Coat Syndrome

On drugs, lore, and somatic anxiety.

· 261 words
  1. I might have green-coat syndrome: I get an anxiety around a low-dose placebo weed gummy (possibly stemming from weed prohibition?). This comes from old fear mongering (DARE/ “all drugs will kill you”), and also bad memories of weed overdoses (10-100x recommended dosage) that only occurred because weed was illegal and the only edible sources were from homemade unmeasured brownies. (Also, a remarkable argument for weed legalization is that a 100x overdose will not send you to the hospital, compared to alcohol, where 4x a reasonable dose could kill you).
  2. 1 mg at 8:05. Nerves and excitement. Suddenly I feel a +1 day post-workout burn. Every little thing is being interpreted: my chest, neck, and stomach. 8:10, my tongue feels funny and I research terpenes using ChatGPT. Maybe I’m just over sensitive because I’ve had a cereal day and now I’m suddenly attuned to my body.
  3. Did I finally fix my posture? I’m usually too focused to notice, but now I’m over-sensitive to slight discomfort.
  4. Fear is an emergent design property that can become transparent when you embody the transience of space-time relativity. I realized this in Tudor Town (there are some walking distance tudors). It reminded me of my architecture school building, and somehow the realization that I’m the same being from 15 years ago reduced my somatic anxiety; it’s like I realized that I’m not immersed in fear, but fear is an abstract output from misaligned inputs. It’s all I/O. I have the agency to redesign my system, starting in this very moment.