How the Ecstasy Generation Ruined LSD

I was just hoping to have an intimate relationship with our Earth for about eight hours, at a remote location in southwest Montana, on my last night where I once called home. It was meant to be a religious experience of sorts, with a congregation of close friends, plenty of holy water, and an agreeable meal of LSD.

We didn’t arrive at our campsite until nearly 8 p.m. Not the ideal hour to eat a bunch of acid, but it would have to do. You see, I was stuck at a barbecue drinking for most of the day, and then a friend and I found ourselves trapped in the glorious waters of Norris Hot Springs until 7 p.m. When we arrived, I immediately noticed the number of cars in the area, worried there would be too many people around for a good, old-fashioned acid trip. I was right. But it wasn’t the tourists that were the problem…it was the locals.

Generally, locals understand the reason you’re out there howling at the moon and avoiding contact with anything that walks on two legs, and these locals were very understanding, but there was something evil in their eyes.

We heard rumors of a mountain rave in the area, but dismissed them when we didn’t hear music in the immediate vicinity. We went for a short hike to survey the area and found more cars coming our way. Professor Heinous and I, already enthralled, were nervous about the commotion and returned to camp. Then the music began.

I didn’t really hear the music while I was peaking. I was too interested in the moon…the stars…the clouds…the glow lights. Ah, the glow lights. The rest of our party didn’t have the opportunity to trip balls on three hits of acid but were doing their best imagining they were. Soon our “sober” friends decided to lead the acid children on an adventure – climbing a mountain. Everyone wanted to see where the music was coming from, so I climbed a steep incline to the top of a cliff and found the largest collection of belligerent E-heads I had ever seen.

There was a crazy, sexy blonde dancing in a hula-hoop of fire and a faceless figure on a faraway cliff tossing balls of fire high into the night sky. I ran into a few friends and realized I was relatively sober. It’s incredible the immense effect massive alcoholism can have if you can stay awake for it. For a couple of acid-heads, Professor Heinous and I were handling our drugs very well, unlike our drunken E-heads, who were obviously allowing their drugs handle them. Soon, the drunken E-heads were getting on our nerves, so we started climbing down the mountain towards our campsite. The drunks were taking an interesting route down the mountain, and the sober leader of our acid parade took notice and stopped. “Let the people in costumes huck themselves down this way.” He picked a new route, and as he did, a girl in a costume fell on her ass and slid down the mountain. Soon, the entire crowd of E-heads was compelled to change their route and follow the acid children.

When we arrived back at camp we discovered our own personal drunk kicking the fire and being extensively belligerent. The Professor was getting aggravated, so he gave our friend a nice little rap on the noggin with a MagLite. The drunk settled down and soon passed out somewhere in or around his car.

The Professor and I were all that remained until another friend of ours returned to camp carrying his drunken girlfriend. The poor girl probably drank more tonight than she had over the course of her entire life. Our friend was not happy to be babysitting, but even a couple of acid freaks could see that shit coming. They went to bed, and the Professor and I still had a few hours to go before we could sleep. We bullshitted about the rave and how surprising it was to find we were some of the more sober individuals in attendance. We discussed what the tourists might think of all this.

A nice family plans a vacation to a remote spot in southwest Montana. “The guidebook says there’s plenty of campsites and the scenery is beautiful,” Dad says. The family arrives to find an orgy of alcoholics and E-heads, the only real wildlife they encounter on their trip. The children stumble upon the party and stay out all night drinking and dancing. Mom also goes missing, but is found naked and beaten – gang raped by belligerent drunks and E-heads. Dad, alone at camp, the driving bass of the electronic music closing in on him, holds a pistol to his head and pulls the trigger. That must have been the gunshots we all heard just before the sunrise.

As the sun started coming up, the Professor and I made our way to our tent and tried to get some shuteye, but that damn electronic music was still playing. We had realized that there were only two songs that we particularly enjoyed, and they were both remixes of Pink Floyd’s “Comfortably Numb,” so I took out my iPhone and turned Floyd on shuffle. When I awoke, that damn music was still playing.

The Ecstasy generation doesn’t seem to be searching for anything but a never-ending peak…an orgy. LSD is supposed to be a religious, life-altering experience. You’re not supposed to be the same person after an acid trip, and acid freaks really don’t want to be the same person…or they wouldn’t eat acid. The Ecstasy trip is strictly fun and relatively unenlightening. The problem with this Ecstasy generation is it has ignored the entire idea behind the acid culture. They’re forcing their trip on everyone – even themselves – instead of allowing their trip come to them. They’re not allowing the Earth do her thing, and her thing is pretty cool when you just sit back and let yourself appreciate it. I just wish there was enough LSD for these E-heads to see the folly of their ways.