In November it will be 30 years since California voters passed Proposition 215, legalizing cannabis for medical use. Last Sunday at the state fair some of the activists involved in that campaign were given awards –heavy medals that said “Pebbles Trippet Lifetime Achievement.”
I made the drive to hot, flat Sac to see the trailer of a film about Pebbles and a documentary about the San Francisco Cannabis Buyers’ Club, original headquarters of the Prop 215 campaign. Fairgoers were checking out the vendors’ wares and showing almost zero interest in the OGs. Like the “Cannabis Cup” of yesteryear, the highlight of the event was an awards ceremony at which growers were honored with blue ribbons that will facilitate sales in the year ahead.
The show-runners hardly paid lip service to “medical use.” People were enjoying themselves. So this is our victory, I kept thinking: access to soma that’s safer than Prozac (or was, until Whiteman did to marijuana what he had done to coca and poppies).
In Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World, one of the slogans promoting soma is “a gramme in time saves nine.” By pure coincidence, probably, Eli Lilly promoted Prozac as”First in line for all nine symptoms of depression.” These were defined in ads as, “depressed mood (sic), loss of interest, fatigue, sleep disturbances, weight/appetite change, lack of concentration, slowness/restlessness, guilt/feelings of worthlessness, thoughts of death.” Five yesses and you qualify. Is there an adult in the US who doesn’t?
Huxley was swacked out on mescaline when he wrote his prophetic novel in the late 1930s. He foresaw planetary unity with the rich/poor system in place. Genetic engineering for the sake of “social predestination.” Earlier onset of puberty for the workers. Electroshock in the nursery to create a reflex aversion to books and flowers.
A character called “The Director” explains, “A love of nature keeps no factories busy… It was decided to abolish the love of nature… We condition the masses to hate the country, but simultaneously, we condition them to love all country sports. We see to it that all country sports shall entail the use of elaborate apparatus. So that they consume manufactured articles as well as transport.”
Subliminal messages are played for the sleeping children (who are clones, of course): “Alpha children wear grey. They work much harder than we do, because they’re so frightfully clever. I’m really awfully glad I’m a Beta, because I don’t work so hard. And then we are much better than the Gammas and Deltas. Gammas are stupid…” After the Elementary Class Consciousness lesson ends, the subliminal voices adapt demand to supply. “‘I do love flying,’ they whispered, ‘I do love flying, I do love having new clothes… old clothes are beastly,’ continued the untiring whisper. ‘We always throw away old clothes. Ending is better than mending, ending is better than mending, ending is better than mending. The more stitches, the less riches…’”
The universally worshipped figure is Henry Ford, the Elon Musk of his day. The sign of the T is sacred. Vibro-vacuum machines are available. The dissidents are called “Simple Lifers” and get mowed down. (How timely can you get?)
A wee sample: “Lennina and Henry were dancing in another world –the warm, the richly coloured, the infinitely friendly world of soma-holiday. How kind, how good-looking, how delightfully amusing everyone was! ‘A gramme in time saves nine,’ said Lenina, producing a bright treasure of sleep-taught wisdom. Bernard pushed away the proffered glass impatiently. ‘Now don’t lose your temper,’ she said. ‘Remember, one cubic centimetre cures ten gloomy sentiments.’
“‘Oh for Ford’s sake, be quiet!’ he shouted.
“Lenina shrugged her shoulders. ‘A gramme is always better than a damn,’ she concluded with dignity, and drank the sundae herself.”
