What’s wrong with swigging a bottle of Old No. 7 Black Label and singing along to “Sweet Leaf” by Sabbath at maximum volume at the top of my lungs as I’m cruising down the highway? It’s not like I can’t handle it. I once drove from Dallas to Austin with a head full of high powered acid. The trick is to keep your eye on the yellow centerline, even if the road itself ceases to exist.
According to quantum physics, matter is an illusion anyway. If nothing exists but the luminiferous aether doesn’t it make sense to ‘open the doors of perception’ at least a little while traveling by car? What could be more irresponsible than operating heavy machinery while blinded by sober delusion?
Just try explaining this to a California Highway Patrol officer. I did, and it just seemed to make matters worse. The cop mind is not made to wrap around the subtle truths of quantum mechanics, and such intellectual challenges just seem to make that taser trigger finger itch like crazy.
In any case, I find myself with a little extra time on my hands in a small cold room with a stainless steel toilet.
Good thing matter is an illusion.