Drugs have given us so much and for that, we ought to be eternally grateful. Where would we be as a culture without them to assist and inspire our finest artists? Not to mention our finest artistes. What would Sgt. Pepper, Easy Rider or The Cartoon Network’s Adult Swim be without them? What no one quite understood at the time is that the prohibition against illicit substances fueled creativity. Which means legalizing it complicates things. Transgressing society’s norms benefited everyone.
Not everything produced in a narco-frenzy worked out, of course. How else do you explain tie-dye? Something no sober person could possibly comprehend. Hippies are a reliable punching bag to some, a sturdy pinata to others. But we must allow for grace when appropriate and give credit when it’s due. They, with the help of many drugs, were a net positive.
Something’s different now. There’s nothing exciting or subversive anymore. Everywhere I go is full of marijuana dispensaries. A boon for the serially stoned and exuberantly high. I don’t mind the smell or the vibe. What deeply disturbs me is how nearly every single dispensary looks awful. There’s an utter lack of design sense. Horrible puns, bright lights, horrendous typography and that stupid green weed leaf adorning each and every awning. These are objectively hideous storefronts. How can the same drugs that helped produce some of the greatest works of art now do the opposite? Where are the aesthetes when we need them?
The only thing that’s different is that drugs were a gateway to the counterculture. Now they are the gateway to the counter. It used to be that cool weirdoes smoked grass or lit a doobie during a creative dead-end. Now it’s regular people. Your grandma, your uncle, your goddamn accountant. Too many folks want to open their own mom and pop weed shop. This is wrong, creating block after block of pointless eyesores. Imagine the lamest guy you knew in high school opening a record store. It can’t happen. It shouldn’t be allowed to happen. This is what laws are for. This is what prison is for.
I guess we can’t credit the drugs for all the great art in the 60s and 70s, after all. I mean, just look at this shit.
(The rule, not the exception of cannabis-related creativity)