It’s about cannabis, that green monster that appears variably as savior or demon, depending upon the frame through which one views it.
Remember when you were little, and after lights-out, that pile of stuffed animals or clothes in the corner magically transformed itself into an ominous monster?
When that would happen to me, I’d hold my breath for a while, willing the monster to go away. And when the anxiety got too much to bear and an adult hadn’t arrived to calm my whimpering, I’d sprint to Mom and Dad’s room. One of them would come back and flip the lights on, revealing The Monster in the Corner for what it truly was.
The overhead lights showed shadow and depth. The monster in the corner was exposed, not as a slavering, glossy 2D cartoon, but as the complex, dimensional lump of substance and plush that it always was.
As a society, we’ve kept cannabis in the dark for far too long. We’ve obsessed over its shadowy form in the corner, endowing it with all sorts of powerful attributes: It hates children and just might devour yours. It seduces adults into dalliances with much more powerful monsters like booze and cocaine and heroin.
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