Jonathan B. Foster Copyright 1994 by the Jonathan B. Foster.

VOICE: That is such bullshit, and I will tell you why: because who the hell could ever fathom - in the first place, first and foremost - who could ever hope to fathom what reality is? And then if you could, you're sure as hell not going to accept it. With or without an analogy. Which is fucking ridiculous because, no, listen to what you're saying: that a drug induced analogous reality allows you to accept the real reality? "Real Reality??" There's supposed to be some reality that isn't real?? Wait, wait, wait, no, no, hear me out on this, and I know what you're going to start saying, you're going to start going off about these shamans living out in the Painted Desert somewhere that travel through various... Whatevers, because I am sick up to here with all these justifications about these "holy men," about how they've used hallucinogens throughout the centuries to go on spiritual journeys, and so why can't we? "To travel, to unravel the dravel, the gravel, mavel bavel blah blah blah," you know what I'm saying? It's bull shit. Because you are not some fucking holy man. I am not...! God I get so pissed off. I'm not a holy man. And I don't bullshit myself into believing that I am, so that I can take some fucking drug and experience some "analogy" that will help me accept "reality." And yes that rhymes. Yes, I know, analogy, reality, I am aware that that rhymes. But that doesn't mean anything. It doesn't mean anything. Sometimes rhymes just happen. Okay? Can we live with that? We allow life to give us only what we want from it. Listen to me. And the rest we deny. All we accept from life is what we want life to be. You see? You see where I'm going with this? Because I don't think you do. I don't think you really get what I'm saying. (Pause.) This is really good pot, yunno, this is some really, really good shit.