Now they’re just messing with me

Harvard Study: Smoking Weed Improves Brain Functions

“After three months of medical marijuana treatment, patients actually performed better, in terms of their ability to perform certain cognitive tasks, specifically those mediated by the frontal cortex,” explained Gruber.

Study participants also reported improvements in their specific clinical conditions, sleep, and overall health as well as a decreased use of conventional medications, particularly opiates.

“We saw a 42 percent reduction in opioid use,” reported Gruber. “This is significant, particularly for those of us in Massachusetts and other areas of the country where the opioid epidemic is ravaging so many. This preliminary finding certainly warrants deeper and broader investigation.”

Satan’s games. Besides, who really wants to be smart anyway? It’d just make you into one of those latte-sipping west coast elitists who fails to understand the simple genius of our great leader.

11 thoughts on “Now they’re just messing with me”

  1. I can testify. When I took the GRE, I was so stoned I drove ten miles past a city I’d visited at least a dozen times in the past. I had to plead with the fingerprint-taker to let me in though I might have been a minute on the wrong side of the deadline. Yet I performed perfectly on the analytical section and solidly in the uppermost percentile on verbal and quantitative exercises.

    Weeks later I decided to play it low key for the LSAT. I was barely even baked when I sat for that exam. It showed — I finished smack in the middle of the second highest percentile. Clearly my decision to moderate for purposes of focus backfired horribly. Some say the LSAT pool is just a more rarified sample than the GRE pool, but I know the straight dope — too little weed cost me my place at Harvard Law!!!

    1. Hi DW – great to see you back. The blog took a bit hit from a hack. Got Putin’s fingerprints all over it.

      The reason for the title of this post is that I have chosen to refrain from being a product of the bakery for several months now. It roughly co-incided with a health scare involving a suspicious something on one of my lungs that turned out to be nothing. Not long before that I’d stopped Adderal for ADD and switched to Wellbutrin, and it seemed to take over for the self-medication I’d been using pot for, so I decided to walk away from it for a while, with mostly beneficial consequences. Your testimony is quite interesting – as is the research indicated in the post. I had similar experiences in college. Once I was woefully unprepared for an exam to the point that I baked up just to deal with the horror of the experience. It turned out that the test was multiple choice and I was able to decode the answers without any knowledge of how to actually solve the problems and I miraculously got a really good grade. Weed definitely helped in that case.

      My more typical experience, however, has been that I get a burst of fascination with the work I have to do but have a hard time sticking to just that. The internet is not helpful. I’m always only two or three degrees of separation from some incredibly fascinating topic entirely unrelated to my work task. I end up doing something like what I’m doing now. Generally the Wellbutrin helps keep me focused better – but at the moment I’m not exactly doing my job am I?

      OTOH – I’ve got Demonweed blogging on New Worlds! Gotta have priorities.

  2. Demonic! That’s an excellent story.

    I once advocated for all pot smokers to be put to death. I was fourteen, and thought potheads, hippies, bikers, and Nazis were kinda the same thing.

    Plus, when I came back from Saudi in ’73 all the Cool Kids were doing it. In Saudi the slightest whiff of the stuff meant instant deportation of you and your entire family. So, incidentally, did clothing made by any Jewish-owned company and of course alcohol. So emerging from that Islamic Paradise to the entirely-stoned USA was a shock I did not react well to.

    I certainly blame upbringing. And I have blond surfer dude Bill Klick to thank for my rescue. He was my co-grunt at a big nursery in Tempe — we spent all day unloading trucks and moving trees around, and he invited me to see Rocky Horror with him. I went over to his house and he broke out the bong. It was a little freaky at the time — I had never even been drunk, and did not like to ‘lose my faculties’ as I told him. But he insisted.

    Thank you, Bill. Saved my life later on, when I narrowly avoided committing suicide. Pot is what led me back to life. I’m grateful for it. My mother was always giving me Reader’s Digest articles with the faux studies all based on the Wolfe research that injected the equivalent of 1800 joints per day into a sealed baboon cage. A number of years later she asked me to buy some for her. Anti-pot ideology only encourages overdependency on it, sort of the way anti-gay legislation just brings out the flamboyant in any mildly bisexual human.

    I suppose I should take a break after I finish this new screenplay. Probably will. Doesn’t hurt.

    Max — both my proofreading brothers-in-law seem to love the new novel. ‘Brillant’, said one. ‘You’re a great writer’ said the other. From these guys — a little weird. So maybe it’s good.

    I’m publishing on 1/31/17, and I’ll send you a copy.

  3. Can’t wait. Good life stories too, BTW.

    Need to find time to come up for a jam. I’ve been playing and singing a lot. These Russkies can’t get enough of me 🙂

    Wondering if you can guess my next JS theft.

  4. ‘Mechanical Man’ — kind of a medieval Iron Man sort of story, starts in 1364 in Gillingham. Orphaned kid gets sold to John of Gaunt to become part of Prince Richard’s bodyguard, gets overly trained by a professional ring champion who hates them all, nearly dies, gets grabbed by slavers and sold to a baker in Barcelona, ends up in an accidental street fight and gets sold again to a ring-fight manager. Does too well, gets seized by a mad-scientist slaver noble who sews special armor to his skin with silver wire and calls him the Mechanical Man.

    He does well enough until the infection and blood poisoning sets in. After that —

    Well, you gotta read it.

    I’m halfway through a new screenplay (#10) called Weird Fresno. Very fun to write ’cause I’m not stuck in the shitty effing 1300’s, yo FUCK that century.

    Gotta say, though, this one might end up being a little worse, we’ll have to see.

    Mad Max and all. Nothing like the rage ‘o the Scot. Culloden! Culloden!

  5. Think VERY old country.

    Really tempting to pull out Take Me Back… though. Maybe a medley of that with FOD. Could substitute in a few Republican politicians.

    Fuck off Trump
    Yeah, Fuck off Trump
    Make me want to take a dump
    Fuck off Trump

  6. “Tough bass line to sing and play, though.”

    Tell me about it. Tough enough to sing those freakin’ high velocity syllables even without playing anything! We may not attain JS velocity, but will be fun for sure (and will surely miss the inimitable Sky Harbor). Will youtube it.

    “covered if he’s comin’ from the South instead” is particularly cruel and unusual punishment at the required tempo. Thanks.

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