As the State Turns

You Know OPB, Sometimes I Worry About You
While digesting my daily state news, I came across this gem on Oregon Public Broadcasting’s website: Oregon Marijuana Dispensaries Anticipate Eclipse Sales Spike. Woah woah woah woah… woah… woah. So, you’re telling me that a massive increase in population… in relation to a major (and coincidentally trippy looking) cosmic event… might increase pot sales? In a legal weed state? When a large number of the aforementioned people are out of state and can’t get it at home?

Dudes, seriously. If you need to hire a consultant to come up there and sort your sh*t out, I’m available. Sure, I write about poop a lot, but keep an open mind.

Jeff Sessions Catches Reefer Madness
U.S. Attorney General Jeff Sessions has been taking a break from being smeared all over the place by his boss to question Oregon’s ability to keep its pot off the black market. 

In a July letter to Governor Kate Brown, Sessions wrote “Hey Babe, just wondering girl… pretty sure some of that reefer of yours is getting into Utah and driving the BYU students mad. Unprotected sex, alternative religions… even read report of a guy who laughed at an episode of SNL.”

Sessions provided Brown with a list of uh-ohs Oregon may have committed in reference to an Obama administration memo from 2013. The memo essentially promised not to prosecute states for related infractions as long as they had a big fat, greasy system in place for handling the regulation and control of the dope.

Sessions added, “So like… I think your regulatory stuff is bad and, even if it’s not, I can do prosecutions to you anyway. I checked.”

Whether or not Sessions will still have his job by the time he actually gets around to taking action is obviously quite up in the air.

Eclipse Alternatives for Creative Oregonians
Eclipse, eclipse? Eclipse eclipse eclipse, eclipse. Eclipse! Yes, that’s what it sounds like when you get within proximity of any other human being in this state. It’s driven me to absolute madness, and so in protest, I’ve decided to inspire you faithful readers to take a walk on the wild side, and maybe experience the eclipse a little bit differently. After all, you can’t escape something called “totality,” right?

While every other jerk in the state has been busy practicing staring and trying on dorky glasses, my think tank and I have formulated these methods for turning your average, boring, run of the mill eclipse experience into an extravaganza of obnoxiousness that your great grandchildren will be telling stories about on Mars colony.

Posture 1: What you’re going to need here is about five red candles, a dozen black candles, a vanilla tri-tip scented jobber from Bed, Bath & Beyond, a black cape with red velvet lining, a really old book about goats, and probably like, a robe or something. And some matches. And rocks. And a classic The Cure album – I’m thinking Disintegration. Step one, make a big ole’ pentagram (a modern classic) on the beach of the Willamette with the rocks. Arrange the candles according to whim, and light them. Stand in the center and wait for the wind to pick up so your hair looks all cool, then read some Ipsum Factom from a font website really loudly, just when totality occurs. Bang, zoom, and Bob’s your uncle: the devil should show up almost instantly and rend your flesh, etc. for bothering him. If not, you did it wrong, and you’re going to have to walk all the way home in that getup.

Big fiery demons a little much for you? Swap out The Cure for a little harpsichord and Bauhaus, dig a hole, and come up out of the dirt during totality shouting something like “The time of the day walker is upon us! AWAKEN MY CHILDREN!”. Classic vampire transformation, the kids will love it.

Posture 2: Best indoor options if you’d like to ironically miss the entire thing while doing something mundane? My highest recommendation goes to the brutal looking Walmart in Gresham (World of Walmartcraft as I call it), which coincidentally is where I saw my first real life pimp. He asked one of his ladies to get him some diet Pepsi using unflattering language, too. Other, lesser options include sticking your head in the freezer section at your local Winco, (where you’ll find some stimulating literature on the side of a corndog box), or hell, just ride it out taking a dump in your favorite I-5 rest stop stall. Don’t have a favorite? Just check out this handy list:

Posture 3: If all of this sounds like too much heavy lifting, why not tune in for my Corvallis-based “Not Looking at the Eclipse-athon?” Help me help you. Indeed, I’ll be crawling inside of a plastic bag and some other stuff after trapping myself in a windowless room – all to be sure I get the rare experience of not actually seeing the eclipse at all. It’ll be livestreamed on Instagram @johnnybeaverart. Check out the following link for details, and to marvel at the nihilistic stupidity of it all.

By Johnny Beaver