Etiology of Marijuana's "Demotivational Syndrome"
What is the etiology of marijuana’s “demotivational syndrome?” Sufi and Indian cultures describe similar patterns of behavior observed among hashish smokers. What is the progression that leads to this common casualty seen throughout history?
I would venture to say that the profundity of one’s cannabis psychedelic experience may be in direct proportional relationship with the lack of priorities or goals which seem to follow. Earl in cannabis use, I wrote and described a feeling of seeing all of the goals and career trajectories I had set for myself up to that time in my life having been, all at once, revealed to be empty and theatric, manifestations of ego and the self I had built in society Where ego had stood, I saw a role I no longer cared to fill along a trajectory I no longer had the same naive blind passion for. I could see through myself…
Empty ego, and how far can I chase its tail down, so to speak, down the clichéd rabit hole that came to define sixties counterculture. Grace Slick was tapping into a set of signature lines of thinking common to the LSD trip. At once, an immense relief in no longer carrying the burdens and obligations of that stressful anxiousgoal chasing lifestyle, the emptiness that remained was a severe struggle in therapy during that period of Freshman and Sophomore year of college. The absence of a social self is described within this subculture of LSD exploration. Timothy Leary did not speak for several days after his first LSD session to the point that Richard Alpert and others close to Leary became worried for their friend, who no longer seemed present. This is the outward appearance of inward ego death. No doubt a baseline was formed with subsequent experiences so that a social personality could be reestablished. Leary was a resilient social being, much like fellow Irish American Terrence McKenna, classical bards in their own way, each. But that unique genetic signature which manifested from within them , charming and whimsical, playful and provocative, cannot be applied to other genetic phenotypes in the same way. For myself, much like my own ancestors, the words were gone with the personality and social self that had dissolved away in the brilliant attention of that first experience. Learning so much of the complex mesh of interrelationships that existed between myself and the world. The personality did not “bounce back” so easily and resiliently as Leary or McKenna. The loss was profound, loss of innocence in a way, seeing every opinion or category I had once held for another was groundless ego.
How strange, I come out of the bathroom and the laptop screen turns on, as if welcoming my presence. This occurs when the keyboard or mousepad is touched, typically. I wonder who touched it?
The relationship between states of electromagnetic arousal 1and electronics being disturbed goes back, with so many strange and, as witnesses said, unbelievable or literally incredible phenomena. The gradual understanding that forms over decades of such phenomena is an informed and evidenced position that I cannot simply expect critically minded and intelligent atheists to simply accept by declaration. Being scientific, as myself, they would wish to see the evidence themselves, as I had. And so a line is drawn between what is , as they can confirm, is fact and belief. If they cannot believe my account ofevents, they , they cannot accept the conclusions subsequently drawn from those experiences. Or the understanding of nature and reality that those experiences changed in myself cannot be shared. Or, even among those closest of friends who, when told the story, accepted it, as they said, they have nothing to say in response, as they have never experienced anything in their lives with which they could relate. I And perhaps I can join them, and ask “So what So this strange and incredible thing mhappenedto you, what of it? What does that have to do with my life, or an one’s? Big deal! You think you’re better than me? I don’t!”
So my sharing of the experience tends to end with resentment or fear. C Potential friends becoming guarded, as if threatened. What is the value in that? The ego they see has formed around the experience like a kind of inflexible scab in the shape of the experience, a false and empty image of who I was once, at that time and in that set of circumstances. , environments and relationships. Now that all of those places are sold and all of those friends are estranged, what value now does airing those tired stories have? I forget the nitty gritty details and lose the personality and humor and charm that could once reenact those stories with fire and enthusiasm. Where first it was so emotional, I could not begin to tell it without welling up with intensity and fear around the trauma, with time it became common and the conclusions of those stories assumed. It is so easy to forget how far from the mainstream those experiences were, to remember the personal leap I had to make, myself, just to rationalize and make sense of what we were seeing. Paranormal phenomena, and their subsequent study, will always be met with skepticism, as they should be. But there are ranges of skepticism which can be confirmed prejudicial, where the scientifically minded can be discerned from those more practicing scienceism, or the dogmatic categorization of what is acceptable and real from what is ignorant gullible, or weak-minded superstition. This is a system of belief as inflexible or virulent as any other. , with the dogmatic culture within the academic sciences in actuality veer far from ideals of the scientific method. , where we imagine no place for prejudice being able to hide. But lets not kid ourselves! People are petty and competitive, stealing and ass kissing, desperate and greedy. Academia is no more refined than dogs fighting over a carcass. The Alpha and the old Bull, patient vultures, scheming coyotes.
In what ways is the shaman not a schmoozy Vegas act or car sale sleaze, trying to drum up attention with the same old song and dance that worked before. Keep the animal spirits contented and thte ancestors entertained, “Sammy Davis Jr., personal friend of mine!”
“Stanley Krippner, PERSONAL friend of mine! Oh yea, call me, we’ll do lunch baby! Oh yea, me and Stan go way back, we edited journals together. Got that book project in the works, definitely. Definitely! “
Every moment is your peak receding , and it will never be younger or fresher than it is right in this moment. After that, we’re only repeating ourselves.
Good job with these, Wiz! And what kind of legend were you?
Banging and clanging in the kitchen, who is throwing things? It would be good, or would have been good, to have had each of those renters describe their experiences in the house, in detail, with the scrutiny and accuracy of a formal investigation. What did The girlfriend see, what did he remember seeing, so on, removing bias , ideally as much as possible in collecting the data.
Asking others, lassoing them into obsessing about my past. Imagining myself as Robert Stack, in my trench coat, living the external life of a tv personality standing upright in the world, applying my image, my side profile mug, awkwardly plastering it onto the side of my car. As a window decal. So very foreign, even unable to turn my head or breath through the laminate packaging. And can the camera pan as he jogs in his tracksuit to the gym, with the white towel around his neck, and then changing costume for the stressful stop to the post office, how flustered!
Reminder to self, spitefully post an image of the overhauled Dodge Neon up on blocks in the parking lot. No need to label it “Hillbilly Yokel Post Office”, the image really speaks for itself. That’ll show that fat bitch!
I would venture to say that the profundity of one’s cannabis psychedelic experience may be in direct proportional relationship with the lack of priorities or goals which seem to follow. Earl in cannabis use, I wrote and described a feeling of seeing all of the goals and career trajectories I had set for myself up to that time in my life having been, all at once, revealed to be empty and theatric, manifestations of ego and the self I had built in society Where ego had stood, I saw a role I no longer cared to fill along a trajectory I no longer had the same naive blind passion for. I could see through myself…
Empty ego, and how far can I chase its tail down, so to speak, down the clichéd rabit hole that came to define sixties counterculture. Grace Slick was tapping into a set of signature lines of thinking common to the LSD trip. At once, an immense relief in no longer carrying the burdens and obligations of that stressful anxiousgoal chasing lifestyle, the emptiness that remained was a severe struggle in therapy during that period of Freshman and Sophomore year of college. The absence of a social self is described within this subculture of LSD exploration. Timothy Leary did not speak for several days after his first LSD session to the point that Richard Alpert and others close to Leary became worried for their friend, who no longer seemed present. This is the outward appearance of inward ego death. No doubt a baseline was formed with subsequent experiences so that a social personality could be reestablished. Leary was a resilient social being, much like fellow Irish American Terrence McKenna, classical bards in their own way, each. But that unique genetic signature which manifested from within them , charming and whimsical, playful and provocative, cannot be applied to other genetic phenotypes in the same way. For myself, much like my own ancestors, the words were gone with the personality and social self that had dissolved away in the brilliant attention of that first experience. Learning so much of the complex mesh of interrelationships that existed between myself and the world. The personality did not “bounce back” so easily and resiliently as Leary or McKenna. The loss was profound, loss of innocence in a way, seeing every opinion or category I had once held for another was groundless ego.
How strange, I come out of the bathroom and the laptop screen turns on, as if welcoming my presence. This occurs when the keyboard or mousepad is touched, typically. I wonder who touched it?
The relationship between states of electromagnetic arousal 1and electronics being disturbed goes back, with so many strange and, as witnesses said, unbelievable or literally incredible phenomena. The gradual understanding that forms over decades of such phenomena is an informed and evidenced position that I cannot simply expect critically minded and intelligent atheists to simply accept by declaration. Being scientific, as myself, they would wish to see the evidence themselves, as I had. And so a line is drawn between what is , as they can confirm, is fact and belief. If they cannot believe my account ofevents, they , they cannot accept the conclusions subsequently drawn from those experiences. Or the understanding of nature and reality that those experiences changed in myself cannot be shared. Or, even among those closest of friends who, when told the story, accepted it, as they said, they have nothing to say in response, as they have never experienced anything in their lives with which they could relate. I And perhaps I can join them, and ask “So what So this strange and incredible thing mhappenedto you, what of it? What does that have to do with my life, or an one’s? Big deal! You think you’re better than me? I don’t!”
So my sharing of the experience tends to end with resentment or fear. C Potential friends becoming guarded, as if threatened. What is the value in that? The ego they see has formed around the experience like a kind of inflexible scab in the shape of the experience, a false and empty image of who I was once, at that time and in that set of circumstances. , environments and relationships. Now that all of those places are sold and all of those friends are estranged, what value now does airing those tired stories have? I forget the nitty gritty details and lose the personality and humor and charm that could once reenact those stories with fire and enthusiasm. Where first it was so emotional, I could not begin to tell it without welling up with intensity and fear around the trauma, with time it became common and the conclusions of those stories assumed. It is so easy to forget how far from the mainstream those experiences were, to remember the personal leap I had to make, myself, just to rationalize and make sense of what we were seeing. Paranormal phenomena, and their subsequent study, will always be met with skepticism, as they should be. But there are ranges of skepticism which can be confirmed prejudicial, where the scientifically minded can be discerned from those more practicing scienceism, or the dogmatic categorization of what is acceptable and real from what is ignorant gullible, or weak-minded superstition. This is a system of belief as inflexible or virulent as any other. , with the dogmatic culture within the academic sciences in actuality veer far from ideals of the scientific method. , where we imagine no place for prejudice being able to hide. But lets not kid ourselves! People are petty and competitive, stealing and ass kissing, desperate and greedy. Academia is no more refined than dogs fighting over a carcass. The Alpha and the old Bull, patient vultures, scheming coyotes.
In what ways is the shaman not a schmoozy Vegas act or car sale sleaze, trying to drum up attention with the same old song and dance that worked before. Keep the animal spirits contented and thte ancestors entertained, “Sammy Davis Jr., personal friend of mine!”
“Stanley Krippner, PERSONAL friend of mine! Oh yea, call me, we’ll do lunch baby! Oh yea, me and Stan go way back, we edited journals together. Got that book project in the works, definitely. Definitely! “
Every moment is your peak receding , and it will never be younger or fresher than it is right in this moment. After that, we’re only repeating ourselves.
Good job with these, Wiz! And what kind of legend were you?
Banging and clanging in the kitchen, who is throwing things? It would be good, or would have been good, to have had each of those renters describe their experiences in the house, in detail, with the scrutiny and accuracy of a formal investigation. What did The girlfriend see, what did he remember seeing, so on, removing bias , ideally as much as possible in collecting the data.
Asking others, lassoing them into obsessing about my past. Imagining myself as Robert Stack, in my trench coat, living the external life of a tv personality standing upright in the world, applying my image, my side profile mug, awkwardly plastering it onto the side of my car. As a window decal. So very foreign, even unable to turn my head or breath through the laminate packaging. And can the camera pan as he jogs in his tracksuit to the gym, with the white towel around his neck, and then changing costume for the stressful stop to the post office, how flustered!
Reminder to self, spitefully post an image of the overhauled Dodge Neon up on blocks in the parking lot. No need to label it “Hillbilly Yokel Post Office”, the image really speaks for itself. That’ll show that fat bitch!