Category Archives: Intoxicants

What Percentage of Homosexual People Is Acceptable To You in a Given Population?

Answered on Queera.

Believe it or not, all of the answers said that if a country’s population was 100% gay, that would be absolutely wonderful! I’m sure having all the population of your country gay would be the greatest thing since sliced bread! What the Hell’s the matter with people? It would be catastrophic for any country to be 100% gay, though we’re probably headed that way in the US at the rate we’re going here.

How could having 100% of the population of your country gay possibly be a good thing!? Color me mystified.

A given population as in for a country? 3%. That’s the percentage in the US, and it’s just fine by me.

Understand that homosexuality is bad for society in the sense that it causes a lot of costly problems for society. Furthermore, taxes paid by gays do not make up for the costs that society incurs from homosexuals.

  • Homosexuals live 20 years less than heterosexuals. This is horribly sad for gay people that they miss out on so many years of wonderful life, but it seems to me that reduced lifespan is costly to society.
  • Gays have higher rates of mood and anxiety disorders. While this causes a lot of suffering to gay people, and this is sad, at the same time, mental illness is costly to society.
  • Gays have much higher rates of drinking, smoking, and drug abuse than straights. The gay male party and play, scene revolving heavily around methamphetamine and club drugs is particularly alarming. Lesbians in particular smoke a lot. The costs of drinking, smoking, and drug abuse to gays themselves are no doubt significant in terms of disease, mortality, and the suffering that can come from excessive substance abuse, nevertheless, this incurs a lot of costs to society.
  • Gay men obviously have a very high STD rate. At 20% infection rate, the HIV rate is especially alarming. Most of these diseases remain confined to the gay community and have not broken out significantly to the straight community, with the exception of the Black community with all the down low men. But the great heterosexual HIV epidemic spreading from gays to straights never occurred mostly because HIV goes from men to women and then it stops, as spokesmen from the New York Department of Public Health said as early as the 1980’s. That’s not completely true, but it is very hard to get HIV from a woman. Hepatitis A, B, and C are or were very common in the gay community, vastly more common than among heterosexuals, most of whom only acquire B and C from IV drug use. Parasitical diseases such as shigella, ameobiasis and giardiasis are also extremely common among gay men, whereas they are quite rare among straights. In recent syphilis epidemics, up to 85% of cases are among gay men. Syphilis is quite uncommon among straights. Gay men have elevated rates of anal cancer, and the rate is rising. The rate is vastly higher than the rate among straights.I would like to point out that it is gay men themselves who suffer most from these diseases, and this suffering, although self-imposed, is often tragic, horrifying and heartbreaking in particularly in the heart-wrenching case of HIV. Lesbians have very low rates of STD’s but higher rates of breast cancer. I doubt if lesbians impose a disease burden on society. The very high gay male STD rate, in particular the HIV rate, obviously imposes considerable costs to society.
  • Tragically, gay men have a suicide rate 3X higher than straight men, even in San Francisco, the most gay-friendly place in the US. The attempted suicide rate is also very high. Gay male teenagers have a tragically very high attempted suicide rate at 8X the normal rate. Suicidal behavior causes unfathomable and heartbreaking suffering on gay men. However, attempted and completed suicides impose considerable cost on society.
  • Domestic violence rates are very high in gay and lesbian couples, especially the latter. A gay man is much more likely to beat his partner than a straight man is. A woman is much less likely to be beaten by a male partner than by a female partner. This causes immense suffering to the partners of gay and lesbian batterers. In addition, domestic violence is costly to society.
  • In gay areas, gay men typically take over all of the public restrooms and turn them into miniature sex clubs. This renders most public restrooms unusable by the rest of us. Most gay men typically vociferously support the use of public restrooms as sex dens for gays. I don’t have much sympathy here. Gay men are simply being very irresponsible with this depraved mindset. Further, this is a cost to society.

It is first of all most important to point out that gay men themselves suffer worst from most from these largely self-imposed conditions, a suffering so profound that it almost moves you to tears. Compassion is essential. Nevertheless, there is a cost to society. Some of these issues may be caused by discrimination (see the high teenage gay male attempted suicide rate), but there is a cost to society no matter what causes it. Some of these problems would lessen with increased acceptance of gays, but others would linger or possibly even worsen.

The question comes up whether gays pay for the costs they bring to society. Many gays seem to have above average intelligence for some reason, especially gay men. Gays seem more artistically talented than straights. More gays than straights seem to get college degrees, in particular gay men.

Gay men seem to earn higher than average wages and are disproportionately employed in high paying and prestigious professions. I am always hearing about a homosexual, often a gay man, who is contributing something noteworthy and exemplary to our society such that it mentions a media notice. Obviously, gay men contribute more to the tax base per capita than straights. So gays, especially gay men, offer considerable benefits to society, not flowing from their homosexuality but from other aspects of their lives.

I have not discussed lesbians here because I know little about them, but I doubt that they impose serious costs on society other than reduced lifespan.

However the question rises whether gays pay for themselves. Despite their excellent contributions to society and their higher than normal tax contributions, I still do not think that homosexuals pay for themselves.

The question then arises about whether the rest of us should be willing to carry a small burden for our gay brothers.

Personally I feel that at 3%, I am willing to shoulder the costs of homosexuals to society, as the numbers are so small that it is something we can cope with. I would be willing to tolerate up to 6% gay men in society. I think we could deal at that rate.

However, if the rate of male homosexuality went higher than that, all of these problems above would increase in scope with attendant costs.

Honestly, even when you get to 10% gay men in any country, your problems are going to go up a lot. The % of gay men in New York and San Francisco is quite high, and they definitely impose considerable costs on these cities.

Once you start heading up to 15–20% of any country’s population being gay, I think it would be unsustainable for many reasons (see above).

Homosexuality in society seems to be one of those things, like many things in life, that is best in small doses.

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Filed under Alcohol, Anxiety Disorders, Civil Rights, Death, Depressants, Discrimination, Gender Studies, Health, Heterosexuality, Homosexuality, Illness, Intoxicants, Man World, Mental Illness, Mood Disorders, Psychology, Psychopathology, Public Health, Sex, Social Problems, Sociology, Speed, Stimulants

Where is LSD in the United States Made, and Who Makes It?

Answered on Quora.

After the arrest of Picard, there has been an LSD shortage in the US.
Nevertheless, it is still made in the US. Most LSD in the US at the moment is being made in small labs in Southern or South Central California. They make batches every 3–5 years. In Canada, most LSD is presently being made in Southern Ontario.

The available LSD has been of very poor quality since the 1990’s. However, with the advent of the Dark Web, LSD has undergone a renaissance. There is one site in particular on the Dark Web that sells a lot of LSD. In addition, there are people on the Dark Web who test and review various batches of LSD. The result has been a lot of competition, increasing demand, and slowly increasing quality.

The days when pure white crystalline LSD was available are long gone.

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Filed under California, Canada, Hallucinogens, Intoxicants, LSD, North America, Regional, USA, West

Why Doesn’t He Hurry Up And Die Already?

His name is Henry the K., but we leftwing children of the revolutions of the 1960’s always just referred to him as “Satan.”

People who truly know me know that I came out of the Vietnam War protest era, although I actually worked for Richard Nixon’s aptly named CREEP at age 15 in 1972, at my mother’s behest, for which I will always forgive her.

However, in 1968, I went door to door with my Cold War Liberal father campaigning for “Clean Gene” Eugene McCarthy, a forgotten Democratic politician who ran on a strict antiwar banner in the fateful Democratic primaries of 1968. I was only ten years old.

The well known riots at the Democratic Convention came later that year. I remember those also. Mayor Daley turned his police loose on protesters and many relatively peaceful protesters were badly beaten by police. A nearby park in Chicago was taken over by protesters and named “People’s Park.” Inside the convention, an equal amount of chaos ensued, with the party coalescing around establishment candidate Hubert Humphrey, who did not run on an antiwar ticket. I remember Humphrey well too. He seemed a decent enough man at the time.

The Chicago Seven were later placed on trial for conspiracy after the demonstrations. They included Abbie Hoffman, Jerry Rubin, and a number of others, mostly Jewish. They were represented famously by Jewish radical attorney William Kunstler, who has always been one of my favorite people. Although my father was against the Vietnam War, he really hated those hippies. He used to inveigh against “Ay-bie Hoffman.”

By 1974, I’d added long hair, rock music, LSD and marijuana to my high school studies. I hung out with hippies, potheads and acidheads. I remember once David A H, a bisexual hippie senior who nevertheless always left me alone. He used to take windowpane LSD by putting it right on his eyeball.

Nixon was one of our villains. You have to understand that in that era, if you identified with the hippie movement, still going gangbusters in 1975, Nixon was probably automatically your enemy. Hating him was almost a cultural requirement. He represented, all in one man, of everything we were against. The perfect human voodoo doll.

One day David said matter of factly, “Nixon always looks like he hasn’t shit in a month.” A good one-liner!

I always felt that that was one of the best summaries of Tricky Dicky I’d ever heard.

K. was Nixon’s right-hand man. Although he was not an attractive man, ponderous, overweight, nerdy, homely and bespectacled, he had an odd reputation as a playboy, often seen escorting various actresses in public. I remember one morning at the breakfast table my father was looking at the latest pic of him with some comely model draped on his arm.

“Boy,” my father remarked. “This administration’s really got problems if Kissinger’s their playboy.” A good zinger!

The more I read about this man, the more convinced I am that he is something approaching pure evil. He has to be a psychopath of some sort. He’s one cold-blooded bastard at least. He look in his face and you see a man with heart of ice. There are probably few people as hated among my anti-Vietnam War cohort as this man. I’m getting very impatient waiting for him to kick off so I can dance on his grave. He’s stuck around far too long already.

Just hurry up and die already, Henry!

 

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Filed under Cannabis, Cold War, Culture, Democrats, Hallucinogens, History, Intoxicants, Jews, Left, LSD, Politics, Pop Culture, Regional, Republicans, US Politics, USA, Vietnam War, War

Psychosis Is Bad for Your Brain

The problem of psychosis is not only the devastating social and societal effects it has on individuals and their effects on society. New research suggests that going psychotic is bad for your body itself.

These active psychotic processes seem to cause actual damage to the brain – consequently the negative symptoms seen later which may be a manifestation of that. In acute psychosis, you often get excess dopamine flooding out of dopamine neurons – in fact, L-Dopa, a dopamine drug given to Parkinson’s Disease characterized by dying dopamine neurons has the side effect of acute psychosis. It is thought that the excess dopamine flooding out of these neurons may damage these neurons or the connections.

Damaged dopamine neurons could cause the flattened affect, boredom and “staring at  your shoe for 10 hours” negative symptoms that occur later in the illness as some of these same symptoms are characteristic of Parkinson’s. Any major flooding you get out of neurons might damage the neuron. MDMA causes massive outflows of serotonin and it definitely damages serotonin neurons or more precisely the connections between them. The connections are damaged and become shorter and frayed. They do grow back but they typically don’t grow back to their full length and breadth. You get massive outflows of dopamine with methamphetamine also, and increasing evidence shows that this drug can also damage the brain, once again more the connections (dendrites) rather than the cells themselves.

You hear over and over how drugs kill brain cells but they don’t usually do that. It is more common that they damage the connections or they make it so a certain receptor on a particular type of cell does not work quite as well. Your brain cells are dying off all the time anyway, as they peak at age 23 and then drop off every year until death (this is why musical and mathematics prodigies peak very early in life – music and math benefit by high fluid intelligence or sheer brain speed.

Bottom line is being psychotic is bad for your brain. That’s as good a reason as any to get a handle on any active psychotic process.

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Filed under Amphetamine Psychedelics, Hallucinogens, Health, Illness, Intelligence, Intoxicants, MDMA, Mental Illness, Neuroscience, Psychology, Psychopathology, Psychotic Disorders, Science, Social Problems, Sociology, Speed, Stimulants

Germs, The Other Newest One

I feel your body’s close to mine
I hear your breath and mine in time
I know I’m nothing but it’s you that I need
I touch your skin and it starts to feed

You’re not the first you’re not the last
Another day another crash

My eyes meet yours in secret glance
Our bodies locked in ancient stance
You whisper something and I know it’s good
You’re acting crazy just like I knew you would

You’re not the first you’re not the last
Another day another crash

Embracing my life between your thighs
We will perform in the deadly skies
Reducing my mind to endless nights
You send my dreams to their demise
Realized by your last breath …

I take your hair in to my hands
I pull it tight to fit your demands
Feel my body into yours
I Know it’s right cause that’s my soul you stir

You’re not the first you’re not the last
Another day another crash
You’re not the first you’re not the last
Another day another crash
You’re not the first you’re not the last
Another day another crash
You’re not the first you’re not the last
Another day another CATCH

In case you are wondering, this is about a homosexual love affair Darby had with another boy at the Hollywood Arts Free School he went to. But no matter. Naked Lunch is a great book, and Death in Venice will never be matched. Art does not abide our petty preferences. This higher calling is meant to transcend your petty prejudices. Art’s not about right and wrong. It’s about beauty, even when it’s ugly as sin.

God, I love this music. Very, very hardcore punk rock from the bowels of Los Angeles late 70’s to 1980. It’s so vicious it’s almost evil, but that’s why it’s great. Anyway I’m a bit of a Germ myself, infecting the bowels of this decaying nation.

I’m certainly contagious, good and bad. Just ask some of my exes.

No wait.

I saw these Germs maniacs in concert once at the Hong Kong Cafe. We got there and there were these angry punkers throwing bottles against the outside of the building. They glared at us, and we looked at them like, Hey not us, guys. We got inside, and we knew some of the local maniacs in there.

Diane Chin of the Alleycats was there. She really liked me one night, but she gave me 10 seconds to make a move. I didn’t do it, so she treated me like dog crap under her shoe for the rest of the night. I looked up at her wailing away on the stage. She seemed to be glaring at me. Apparently I just failed Shit Test 1, and there wasn’t going to be another.

Some of these psychobitches give you one damn chance. You need to move on them very aggressively in 10 seconds or so. You need to walk right up to her, put your arm around her, and drag her  off with that look in your eyes that says you know you’re going to do this baby, no one can turn me down. Of course that violates #metoo 101. You just committed sexual assault, sexual harassment, and sexual misconduct, and if you play your cards very carefully, you commit rape later on that night if she’s willing.

These psychobitches actually want to be more or less raped by a brutish man. They want you to walk up to them, grab them, and start kissing them like they can’t say no. They want to be dragged off by their hair like the cavemen did. They want to be told what to do and ordered around. They want the confidence of Superman and the brooding danger of Marlon Brando. If you can’t measure up, you’re a pussy, and she wants to kill you.

She wore all leather, but that doesn’t mean much. Most punker chicks were submissives deep down inside, like all normal women.

Anyway there she was.

My friend points to her and says, “See that chick there? Diane Chai of the Alleycats?”

“Yeah?”

“She’s nuts!”

I look over at her.

“Yes, I can see that.”

“When she does her slamdancing thing…”

“Yeah?”

“That chick! She…actually…breaks…tables!” His eyes are falling out of his head.

Well I knew she was a psychobitch, and now that was confirmed. I made a mental note not to impersonate any tables that night.

My friend’s sister was there along with her best friend, a perpetually scowling punker chick with leather and frizzy hair. You would think she was a dyke looking at her, but no way. She softened up and went submissive if I tried to talk to her. That means, “I like cock.” Dykes don’t to that. Dykes send in reinforcements when you try to talk to them, unless you’re gay, in which case they might like you and treat you like their little boy pet.

I went to the bathroom. There was the great Darby Crash, lead singer of the Germs! Famous! Sort of. A complete maniac! No really, read a biography. He’s all dressed in leather like a street tough. He’s got this sneering snarl that’s rather appealing if you’re a mountain lion. I’m washing up. He sees me and smiles/sneers whatever. It’s not exactly unfriendly. He’s just saying Fuck the World, and he hopes you agree. He looks like he’s  going to bust out laughing. His life was a bad joke, so he probably should have.

“Got any Tuuuuuuuuuinalssss?” He asks me with the not unfriendly James Dean sneer, a smiling laugh waiting to bust out and blow up the room.

His voice is is faggier than the Castro. He’s making limp wrist gestures. This dangerous maniac is actually a flaming faggot! What the Hell, man? The leather, the homicidal look, the deranged masculinity of a caged animal, and wrap it up with a mincing queen. It’s not even a product. It’s an April Fools Joke. Nothing about it even makes sense.

He’s asking me for Tuinols. Those are downers, barbiturates. Also called Blues. Popular back then.

Take one, and it’s like drinking a six pack.

Drink on them and you might die. Get behind a wheel, and all bets are off.

Give one to a chick, and she’ll turn into a half-conscious slavering nympho who won’t remember a thing in the morning. These pills do have their uses, you know? Girls liked to take them so they could have slutty irresponsible sex with the excuse that they were too wasted to be responsible, with the added benefit of being amnestic the next morning. Who knows what the truth is?

The thing is probably just a confession booth in a capsule. “I now absolve you of all responsiblity!” A blue excuse.

Well, I dealt drugs of course. I did for many years. And never got caught. Neener neener cops. I never sold pills though. Those are dirty and ugly. Sell them to some idiot, and he crashes into a bicyclist at night. You’re on the hook for felony murder and a guilty conscience til death no bottle can wash away.

“Nope, sorry,” I said. “Tuinal cigarettes. All I have are Tuinol cigarettes.” Well there’s no such thing. That’s an assholey thing to say, but then, Darby was an asshole, so it was probably appropriate.

“Tuinol cigarettes!?” he scoffs, realizing it’s a stupid joke. Part of him wants to hit me, and the other part wants to bust out laughing.

He starts sneering, and bursting out laughing in outrage, snarling out the door holding back the laughter.

I decided that I sort of like the guy, and now I just met a famous and very dangerous punk rock musician.

We go back to the club and buy Heinekens. My friend’s sister goes submissive, crumbles when I say hi. All the evil in her wrings out like a sponge. Now she’s a ragdoll, waiting to be taken. I get it. She wants to be raped too. All these scary punker bitches do. They’re all little girls at the end of the day.

Rape!? Well. Consensual rape. Let’s put it that way. You know, the way most mammals do it?

All you have to go is grab her like a maniac. And no, you don’t ask permission, you #metoo boneheads. Asking permission is pussy. It’s fail. A man doesn’t ask permission for anything. He takes what he wants, caveman-style.

I’m too chicken, so it’s a fail. Been listening to too many feminists. The only way to seduce her would be very roughly anyway, and that violates sexual misconduct, sexual harassment, and assault right there, with (consensual) rape later on if you get lucky. I’ve turned pussy. It’s all the fault of feminists and paying too much attention to my mother. About certain things, a man should never really listen to his mother. Listen to his father? Maybe.

The first show is Joanna Went. Apparently she’s actively psychotic or something. Her act is some sort of a schizophrenic breakdown on stage. I’m wondering if she’s really crazy or just a maniac like all the rest of these animals.

“Catatooooonic!…………Schizophreeeeenic!……..” She wails at no one and nothing. Her eyes look crazed. She’s got football player shoulder pads on like a circus freak. On a chick with pink hair. Well. That’s weird. Partway in, she starts ripping at the pads. The pads come open. They’re filled with shredded cheddar cheese! That makes perfect sense!

She’s grabbing handfuls of the cheese and throwing it out into the audience, wailing like a crazy woman the whole time. The maniacs in the audience are picking up handfuls of cheese and throwing it everywhere. Pretty soon the whole audience is caught in an actual blizzard of cheese. Like zero visibility. We are all covered with cheese. We’re pissed off, so we reach down and grab handfuls of cheese and start throwing them at Joanna. Hard. As hard as possible. That bitch. She threw cheese at us! For some reason, she likes this and smiles. She wants you to hate her. She’s trying to piss you off. It’s Duchamp and Man Ray, half a century too late. Dada, get it?

This nonsense is called Performance Art. I am not sure what the artistic statement is. Apparently that she’s crazy, we’re all crazy, and the rest of the world is nuts too. I think she could have said that without creating cheese blizzard, but it’s ok. Now I have another cool story to brag about.

The Germs come out.

There’s an air of menace in the club. It’s scary, you might get hurt. But that’s exhilarating too. Like war. The rush of impending potential violence. You’re on edge, but you’ve never been so excited.

The drummer is Don Bolles. He looks like a maniac.

The guitarist is Pat Smear. He looks like he’s criminally insane.

The bass player is this hot blond reform school runaway chick. She looks dangerous too.

Hell, they’re all dangerous. So’s the audience. That’s the general idea here. After a while, the dangerousness infects you, and you start getting antisocial yourself. I’m starting to feel pissed off. I guess that was the plan.

The band careens off into their set. This is some of the most terrifying music I’ve heard. Pure savage wailing raw animal menace. Perfect for a predatory animals like us. Apex predators. We forget that too often. We can kill everything else.

I’ve got nothing to be mad about, but I hate the world anyway. I’m not sure what the problem is, or if it’s even a problem. I want to hate the world, so maybe it’s adaptive. But why? I’m probably just not getting laid enough. But even if I was getting laid, I’d still be pissed off. I was 23 years old.

And now I’m gonna be 22!
I said a…Hey hey!
And a boo hoo!

– Iggy Pop and the Stooges, 1970

Or…

Speed jive

Don’t want to stay alive
When you’re 25

– Mott the Hoople, All the Young Dudes, 1972

You get the picture. Young men don’t need a reason to be angry.

Look back in anger.

What are you rebelling against?…What do you got?

Who knows what causes this aimless and meaningless anger of young men? It’s probably all down to testosterone poisoning.

The set’s halfway over.

Darby Crash has that same wild sneer and the 5150 look. He looks like he needs to be Baker Acted, and soon. He’s crouched down on the stage like a wild animal. Like a tiger. Or lion. Same man-eating look.

Everybody is starting to hate him. That’s the idea. Why? He’s an asshole! Just look at him! He wants you to hate him, get it? It’s not even serious. It’s a band of provocateurs.

People are throwing stuff at the stage, mostly at Darby because he deserves it most. The more people throw stuff, the more he smiles, crouches lower and screams like a man-eating feline. I’m starting to hate him. He’s really pissing me off.

We have cokes full of ice. There’s only ice left. I am grabbing handfuls of crushed ice and throwing it this freak on stage. Hard! Try to him! Hit him!

But why?

Because he’s an asshole! Just look at him.

The more ice that gets thrown at him, the more he smiles. It’s all a bit sado-masochistic. But as long as I’m dom, it’s all good.

The show crashes on until it ends, a freeway pileup in the fog on a sound stage.

We stumble out of the building.

It’s New Years Eve, 1979. Tomorrow will be a whole new decade.

The 70’s are over. Bye bye Hotel California. Bye bye paradise. Call someplace paradise, kiss it goodbye.

Hello Germs. Hello Hell. Hello Other Newest One.

It’s the end, the end of the 70’s! It’s the end, the end of the century!

We lurch out of the building and into an alleyway. A crazed, drunken man stumbles into our path. He can’t even walk. He careens nearly into us and crashes to the ground. He picks himself up and looks back at us wildly. We stop. He has granny glasses. He fell on his face, and one lens is smashed. There’s blood all over his eye. It’s Clockwork Orange and Night of the Living Dead combined. Pure horrorshow, droogies.

Maybe he’s gone blind. Who knows?

It’s horrible. There’s blood pouring out of his eye socket. He puts one hand up to his bleeding eye and lurches off ahead of, fertilizing the dawn of the new decade crimson red in his path.

It’s a whole new decade. Things are getting scary. Reagan just won. Nothing makes sense. Everyone’s pissed off and, no one knows why. A new decade looms ahead, glowing ominously with pregnant danger.

We shake our heads at the horror and the spectacle.

A whole new decade has come crashing in filth and fury. We drive home in near silence on the freeway. After all we saw, there’s no words to add. The words are sucked out of us for a good hour. We still don’t quite believe it happened, and we are trying to take it all in.

And that was the night I saw the Germs.

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Filed under Art, Barbiturates, Depressants, Feminism, Gender Studies, Heterosexuality, Homosexuality, Intoxicants, Man World, Music, Punk, Rock, Sex, Women

How Well Can Very High IQ People Do High Level Work of any Kind after Say One, Two, Three Drinks or under the Influence of Other Drugs?

This is a question I asked on Quora, so obviously I cannot answer it. I got some answers that were quite interesting though.

There are 11 different answers here, and you are welcome to look them over.

If you enjoy the hard work that goes into this website, please consider a contribution to support the continuation of the site. Donations are the only thing that keep the site operating.

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Filed under Alcohol, Cannabis, Depressants, Dope, Hallucinogens, Heroin, Intelligence, Intoxicants, LSD, Narcotics, Psychology

Mexicans Are Ok; Mexican Culture Is Crap

Trash: HONEST GUY

I agree, but I would say that white rural rednecks are high in the running as well as Mexican Indians.

The whole problem with Mexicans comes from mestizos, most of whom are 50-70%+ White. It’s not really a race thing with Mexicans so much. More like a culture that is pure crap, like Black culture. It’s not nearly as bad as Black culture (Black ghetto culture is 2-3X worse statistically but probably much worse on the ground), but I don’t like Mexican or Chicano (Mexican-American) culture, sorry. It’s not my culture. I grew up with White middle class culture, and that’s the culture I prefer. All of my relatives live in that culture more or less. I prefer my own culture. Is that some sort of a crime now? I am a bigot if I prefer my own culture to other cultures?

Mexican culture is just not for me. I have grown up around it my whole life, and I don’t like it. Some of my best friends growing up were Mexican or half-Mexican. I even had Mexican girlfriends and dated half-Mexican teenage girls. They were both 15 years old. I later had a 1/4 Mexican girlfriend. But all of those people pretty much just acted like White people. They had fully assimilated into ordinary California American culture.

One 15 year old girl was into Chicano culture, but it was not that bad back then. She was a gang girl, and she used to fight other girls! Haha! She sure was devoted though. Too bad I only knew her for a weekend, which I basically spent with her.

Chicano culture in the 1970’s was far less toxic than it is today.

I was even friends with the local Chicanos at the school, especially the girls. This was strange as almost no White guys made friends with these Chicano dudes. However, one of my friends somewhat befriended some of the girls. Their culture basically blew, as it was gang culture centered around being lowriders, driving souped up vehicles, and listening to “oldies” pop music from the 1950’s and 1960’s.

None of them did well in school, and they were very apathetic. The girls often had teardrop tattoos on their eyes. The men wore white t-shirts and were apathetic but friendly at least in a passive sense. For some reason they seemed sad most of the time, and it was as if they wanted to live this tragic, resigned to fate, somewhat doomed yet not dangerous “life of sadness” with little agency for some romantic or psychological reason. The sadness was almost the essence of their rebellion and ethnic subculture.

Some of those girls used to tease me in a friendly way. I forget why. Basically they did not associate with Whites. They lived in a rundown part of town called Motown or Dogtown. The gang activity was very low level and they were mostly just neighborhood social clubs. There was some gang violence, but it was mostly just fistfights like in West Side Story. There were no homicides whatsoever.

In contrast, most people I knew with some Mexican heritage simply assimilated more or less completely to ordinary American culture. They were only different in being somewhat more traditional, patriarchal, more rigid sex roles to some extent, and having strong family values. For instance, my half-Mexican friends were outraged that I would flip off my father and yell, “Fuck you!” at him. They called that “disrespecting your parents” and shook their heads at it.

The sex roles were not completely rigid. One of my best friends, CA, later came out gay, moved to LA soon after age 18 was quickly dead of HIV in the 1980’s. We had no clue at all that the guy was gay, although now that I think back, he never dated, had no interest in women whatsoever, and did have a lisp that we never thought much of. He displayed absolutely zero sexual interest in us, but gay boys and young men around age 15-21 are often in denial about their homosexuality, so they aren’t giving off vibes of attraction to men like most gay men do. You can become friends with them, even quite close if not best friends. They are completely normal and some of these seriously closeted young gay boys and men can be a lot of fun. They usually like to take drugs a lot for some reason.

His father ran a barber shop and was a typical macho Mexican man. The barber shop was covered with these soft porn girlie magazines. Nevertheless he was this sly, nearly juvenile delinquent (like all of us) stoner guy, 15 years old, and we would go over to his house and smoke weed and listen to albums like Jimi Hendrix “Are You Experienced” and have this total space voyages on weed.

My early pot trips were extremely weird for a long time – almost as bizarre and otherworldly and even terrifying but exciting as LSD trips, with the exception of being utterly hilarious in some weird, scary extraterrestrial way. For all intents and purposes, I was on another planet or even another universe on  those early trips. Nevertheless, I kept having those weed trips, in part because I like to live dangerously. Over a couple of years, they mellowed out and became a lot more normal as I also became a much more regular user and even a serious street level dealer for a while. I lived as a criminal for 14 years, running a regular drug dealing business on the side for mostly pot and psychedelics. And I never got caught!

The gangs committed no victimizing crime at all. The toxicity has come in that these gangs have become far more antisocial and criminal and their fights have become murderous as they became flooded with handguns and developed their own sort of sick gun culture.

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Mexican Indians Are Not a Problem in the US or in Mexico

Trash: Mexican Indians of certain tribes would be a close second (to US ghetto Blacks).

Mexican Indians do not really act bad at all. We have lots of them around here and they cause almost no problems whatsoever. They are these short, dark, rather squat, very reserved,  and stoic ancient  people with ancient village traditions that go back forever. The men are, very masculine in a sense of being tough as nails and stoical but almost androgynous in another sense of being almost painfully quiet and passive to an extent that is nearly feminine.

They are very relaxed, and you often see two Mexican Indian men walking down the street with their arms around each other. That’s not considered gay at all. Gender roles are quite a bit more relaxed than with mestizos. I hear some of those Indian cultures down there even accept their local version of transvestites and some of those Indian cultures are nearly matriarchies. Women are everywhere running everything. They run outdoor markets for instance.

Of course, they have a terrible problem with alcohol. You can see them late at night sometimes stumbling around drunk. In fact, some of the local gang punks I knew around here had made a habit out of “rolling paisas.” The “paisas” are the Mexicans who barely speak English, often Indian. “Paisa” basically means an illegal immigrant. They work heavily in the fields so much so that they have monopolized them and are hostile to others who try to work there.

One of my White friends worked in the fields for a bit, but he said the work was very hard and there was no way to keep up with the paisas, who had it down somehow. Also the paisas had monopolized the fields, and they let Whites know they were unwanted.  They would try to drive you off the job. There was quite good money to be made on piecework if you worked extremely fast. Some of the paisas are now using meth out in the fields to work faster.

The gangsters would go out at 3 AM after bars closed and look for “paisas to roll.” They would see one stumbling down an alleyway drunk (they are mostly on foot and many have no cars) at 3 AM after the bars let out. They would roll him by hitting him and knocking  him over and  then rifling his pockets for money. Paisas typically do not have bank accounts because they are illegals, so they keep all of their earnings in their pockets all of the time (they get paid in cash). They paisas are typically not badly injured in these attacks, but they might lose $300. Also they will not go to the police because they were drunk and illegals are scared of going to the police.

For the most part, they simply will not talk to you even if you try to talk to them. Some of them still speak their Indian languages, which sound completely insane and nothing like Spanish. I was walking by a store one night and I saw several Indian men in a circle speaking what sounded very much like Chinese! I asked them in Spanish, what language they were speaking, and although they did not want to talk to me, they said Trique. Trique sounds Chinese because it has tones like Chinese and other East Asian languages. I even asked them in Spanish how well the different Trique languages could understand each other. They answered, but their basic attitude was, “Get lost.”

There is not much crime in their villages either. They deal pretty harshly with criminals there. A lot of the women are not pretty, particularly as they age as they age very poorly. But some of the young women are strikingly beautiful, although there is a tendency to be fat. Those hot young Mexican Indian women will not have anything to do with a White man. They won’t talk at me or look at me or anything. They seem to only date Indian men.

The whole problem with Mexicans comes from mestizos, many of whom are 50-70% White. It’s not really a race thing with Mexicans so much. More like a culture that is pure crap, like Black culture. It’s not nearly as bad as Black culture, but I don’t like Mexican or Chicano (Mexican-American) culture, sorry. It’s just not for me. I have grown up around it my whole life, and I don’t like it. Some of my best friends growing up were Mexican or half-Mexican.

I even had Mexican girlfriends are dated half-Mexican teenage girls. They were both 15 years old. I later had a 1/4 Mexican girlfriend. But all of those people pretty much just acted like White people. They had fully assimilated into ordinary California American culture. One 15 year old girl was into Chicano culture, but it was not that bad back then. She was a gang girl, and she used to fight other girls! Haha! She sure was devoted though. Too bad I only knew her for a weekend.

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David Bowie, “Ziggy Stardust”

Want to see God? Well, here you go. Ziggy Stardust from the album in 1973. People do not realize that this guy was actually not popular at the time. To be into Bowie in 1973 was to be a freak, a weirdo. No one was into him except for some freaks and weirdos. A lot of them were stoners. This was basically very hardcore super-underground drug music for drug culture types.

Most of these types were seriously outside of society. All the men had very long hair and lived lives that revolved around sex, drugs and rock and roll.

There is so much more I could say about Bowie, but will be all for now. Maybe later.

 

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Drug Culture in the 1970’s

The drugs back then were mostly just pot/hash/hash oil, some cocaine (not much), and psychedelics, especially LSD. PCP was also quite popular but it was also very much maligned. It was usually not called PCP but instead it was called “crystal” or “cannabinol”. Crystal would be sprinkled on marijuana leaves and passed off as pot. Cannabinol looked like a very small amount of silly putty. It was smoked.

Many to most users saw themselves as “hippies.” Hippie culture was still going very strong in the early to mid 1970’s. In fact, hair never got that long in the 1960’s. It was in the 1970’s when men really started wearing  their hair long and hippie culture definitely went mainstream in a huge way. In the  1960’s, I think it was always somewhat sidelined as a freak phenomenon. Most high school and college students in the 1960’s were probably not hippies. I would wager that many more were in the 1970’s.

LSD was usually “windowpane” – some of the craziest, strongest LSD I have ever taken. It was just a tiny sliver that looked like a piece of very thin glass. Some people would  put it in their eyeball! It gets into your bloodstream just fine that way.

I remember one day, two of my best friends showed up at high school with a cassette tape box. They opened it up and showed it to me. Inside were 300 hits of Brown Windowpane LSD. It was very early in the morning. The school day was not yet through before they had sold out the whole box – all 300 hits in a school with 3,500 students enrollment. That shows you the extent of drug use at a White middle to upper middle class high school in the suburbs in those days. Drug use was off the charts. Could you sell 300 hits of strong LSD at a suburban high school nowadays before the day was out without getting caught?

This was another thing. No one would tell on you back then. Narcs were seriously hated and if you turned in a drug user or dealer, your name was mud for eternity. There were probably straight-o’s that might turn you in, but  I think even they were afraid of being “narcs.” If an undercover officer tried to make a drug arrest in the middle of the school day, I am afraid that he might actually start a riot – that’s how anti-police high school students were back then. Anyone who wanted to be a cop when he grew up would be completely eliminated from everyone’s social circle as a “straight-o”, a “geek” an “idiot” a “loser” and especially a “pig.” If he tried to attend a party, someone might hit him. “Police officer” was simply not an acceptable career choice.

Neither was going in the military. This was during the Vietnam War Era with Watergate going on, and all high school kids hated Nixon. Only a complete idiot would volunteer for the military. Remember that during this era, ROTC offices on college campuses were actually being bombed and burned to the ground! I do not know one person who went in the military after high school.

Why would anyone do that? Such a person would be known as an “idiot” and really, you would not even want someone like that in your social circle. At the very least, you would be a “square” and that was very bad. Squares got ostracized in the worst way, thrown out of most social circles and no one would talk to them. They might join up with some other squares and form some square clique, but everyone else avoided them. Also to be a square was to be a “geek” and a nerd, and the idea was no chick would look twice at you.

That’s how popular acid was back then. Most people didn’t take it many times – just a few times here and there. But others were acidheads – I had friends who took it every single weekend for years on end and eventually racked up ~300 trips. I never met a single LSD casualty in my life. I don’t think they exist. One of my best friends is held up as a classic LSD casualty,  but there is nothing wrong with him at all  other than the fact that he seems very weird in that he has all sorts odd mannerisms, etc.

The problem with the LSD casualty account for this guy is that he is 100% normal and logical in his mind – if anything, he is an inhibited introvert. Supposedly the acid caused all these weird, basically neurotic or eccentric mannerisms, but the thing is, I knew this guy when he was only in 7th Grade before he had taken even one drug and he was far weirder than than he was after the dope. If you want to play cause and effect, go for it, but in his case, you are forced to conclude that the drugs actually made him more normal. Truth is this guy was weird as Hell from day one and he was way weirder before drugs than afterwards, so  you were not  seeing drug effects, you were just seeing some naturally eccentric person.

Interestingly, I saw his IQ score when my counselor showed me mine b because his name was right next to mine. He had the exact same IQ that I have – 147. So this was probably a case of  as IQ rises higher and higher, you start to reach a point of diminishing or even negative returns where with each rising IQ point, the person seems to get weirder and weirder and this actually gets seriously in the way of making a living and even functioning well in society.

That’s why you see all those 160+ IQ men who are not married, never date, are celibate, live alone in small apartments, are painfully shy and introverted, are unemployed or have very low paying jobs and live on the edge of poverty. These people have the problem that they are so damn smart that they are basically too smart to even function in our society, so they end up being social and occupational failures in many ways.

I have seen some very bad trips – a friend of mine was hospitalized for 48 hours on a bad LSD trip that was more funny than anything else. I never had a bad trip on LSD, but I have only taken it nine times.

There were also pills called “whites”. That was illegally manufactured amphetamine made by motorcycle gangs. I believe I have heard that the stuff was never anything but ephedrine. They were quite popular. Downers were also popular, especially Seconal. Those were called “reds.” I took one once and it was like drinking a six pack – a similar seriously drunken feeling.

Meth was for all intents and purposes nonexistent.

Cocaine was very expensive and hardly used outside of very wealthy circles. However, it was heavily glamorized as a harmless recreational drug, which it is certainly not.

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