Monday, February 15, 2016

The LSD Revolution

"I'm tired of this shit." Frank worked
as the superintendent of the water
works plant of greater Washington
D.C. His employees loved him 
because he was fair and listened to 
them. It didn't matter if some politician
tried to get a retarded or criminal
relative a job there. If they weren't 
going to work out, Frank made it 
uncomfortable for them, or, they had 
an accident. The latter possibility might
seem cruel, but, Frank knew the 
populace depended on water, so, he 
wasn't about to fuck around with his

His employees were aware of this, and
had a respect for him close to worship.
If it was a cult, it was a benevolent one.
George was an old college friend of Frank.
George was an artist and musician. They
had reconnected after many years of 
having lost touch, but, took up where they
had left off with their friendship. Frank and
George had been in college in the Sixties,
the same school. George jumped into the 
Sixties, head first, as it were. Frank was too
much into the sciences at the time, but was
an aficionado of Marx and Leary. He thought
"Howl" by Ginsberg was one of the greatest
poems, in English, of the second half of the
preceeding century. Long story short, they had 
many intense discussions about what was 
wrong with the USA, and what needed to be 
done. Frank would drink wine, occasionally
take a toke. There was no telling what George
was on at any given time.

They were at the last point of the productive
period of their lives. (In George's case, make
that semi-productive.) Frank was a couple of 
years short of retirement. George had taken
up his usual temporary residence in Frank's
basement. They jumped right back into their
serious discussions where they had left off,
but each with an acquired world wise life 

They had been on a marathon discussion
this weekend, because George had brought
up somehting that Frank could no longer, in
his life, ignore. 

"You're right," Frank continued. "I thought that
if I worked in the system to make things better...
or, at least, support the good things about it, that
there would inevitably be a positive change in 
society. It sure seemed like it for a while. I feel 
good about maintaining the water quality in D.C.,
but it sure falls short of my old ambitions."

"We are closer to each other's way of thinking
than we've ever been. I guess life experience
has a way of clarifying concept." said George.

"You're making a lot of good points. I always felt
art wasn't enough to actually effect change...I 
always felt put the right people in the right 
situations, and the right change would happen."

"You know that's what we've been talking about,"
said George, "and you know that's exactly what 
we have right now!"  

"Yeah," Frank shook his head, "but, isn't dosing
the entire water supply of D.C. with LSD an act of 
terrorism? Or, even, war?"

"We've been over this point already," George said.
"Let me characterize it a different way: it's an act
of enforced anarchy." 

"What about people's freedom of choice?" Frank
wasn't yet convinced. "What about their free will?"

George: "Look, you know as well as I that most people
have lost those things already...or, never knew they 
had them in the first place, or, given the system,
are in the process of loosing them even more."

"What about practical considerations? How will the
people handle a population of crazies on LSD?"

"Well, we'll need a ton of straight jackets...mostly
for the straight people...(sorry, bad joke) and, the
politicians. The medical profession will handle it
rather easily, I think. After all, most of them are 
already on something. And the military, who have 
their own water supplies can be brought in to help. 
Some cover story will have to be made up. I think 
media will be up for something like this, since, for
once, their lying can be for the good. And, it will
be a killer story."

"Wouldn't other nations see this as an opportunity 
to attack?"

"I doubt it," George put out a cigarette and opened 
a fresh pack. "They long so much for the USA to
be different than it has been since Vietnam that I
think they would be fascinated and want to see
what will happen."

"Well," Frank drained the last of his glass of 
chardonney, "when do we do this?"

"How's about Valentines Day next year? My 
supplies of the new LSD that won't break down in
water so quickly should be ample by then. It's
a perfect symbol for this revolution."

"OK, I'm in." Frank wasn't sure how much of
him and how much of the wine was talking. But,
the logic was pretty water proof. And, the times 
desperate for direct action. "Time for bed."


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