It all begins here with an utterance, a scrambled item of speech requiring brain time to reconstruct: “Two metres.” Grumbled and garbled, the words issue from a mask. A figure cocks its head autistically sideways. The manner resembles that of a bird, the way it jerks its little skull to look at you with just one eye. Picture that gull eyeing you as you take your lunch on a park bench, the way it indirectly sidles in your direction while you eat. Picture Norman Bates.
My tortured relationship with weed leads me down a sceptical blind alley regarding legalization. On the one hand, like psilocybin and LSD, its psychedelic effects can occasion experiences of euphoria and enlightenment. . .