The Golden State Of Dreams

The end fast approaches, but oh what a ride! Any country that produces Walt Whitman, Nat King Cole and Groucho Marx must be doing something right. But for every I.F. Stone there is a United Fruit Company. For every amber wave of grain there is a Monsanto exec rewriting the Constitution. For every Emma Goldman there is a Hillary Clinton. For every Thomas Paine there is a Sacco and Vanzetti, a Bradley Manning, an Eric Holder prosecuting victims pulled from the smoking rubble because the wafting aroma of nano-thermite in the morning smells suspiciously like Albion Ridge sativa.

But speaking of Mendoland’s finest export since Jim Jones, who can bothered by the negative downer brigade when the Warriors are tied 2-2 against the San Antonio Spurs? Cynics may decry sport as the ultimate mass opiate, but as a friend puts it, “They should try smoking ten bowls of Chem-Dog x Jack Herer while watching Golden State in the fourth quarter.”