These are the ones VICE did not run.
My lips were on fire. I wanna say that the lights here were going into these blues here. When I blinked my eyes they were on your shirt. It was too hot to see. I felt like I was on a pillow.
The spots on the pants were the big thing for me. It was so fast. The ripples on the floor, they were just all bright, and all moving, and like really beautiful. The colors came out of the floor. That blue ripple there was like a pond. Just looking at her made me feel ok.
Dimethyltryptamine is so hot right now. Ever since Enter the Void and DMT: The Spirit Molecule showed up on Netflix Instant, kids have been going gaga over this technology from another dimension.
An extremely effective, naturally occurring psychedelic compound that’s simultaneously spiritual and more fun than bumper boats, DMT is perhaps most famous for its instant and intense visuals. Within a few seconds of inhaling its thick, harsh smoke, one is taken to a place very different from what most contemporary Westerners refer to as reality. While there is a lot of debate regarding where that place exists (or if it exists, or if anything exists for that matter), it can be said with absolute certainty that DMT Town looks very cool. The passenger is immediately overwhelmed with exotic patterns, colors, textures, emotions, and other things that we don’t yet have words for. I recently came across some, shared it with my pals, and talked to them about their trips just as they floated back down to Earth.
I felt what God was like. It was something that was smaller than anything. It’s not made of anything—it is everything around the thing that it is and everything inside of it at the same time and it kind of moves about in a way that’s not on the grid.
It was like time traveling, but it wasn’t time before or after, it was just adjacent to us. Early on I saw that Earth was having a vibration. That it was like a constant breath, but we can’t see it. You can’t see it from photos. The edge of everything. It got so hot. It was like a wave that was like electricity. It was black and then red and then white, and it was rounded and arched as if it were in orbit somewhere.
Your bodies were, like, singing—everything you were doing was like a song. You were making a symphony. The scratching and the movements were all in a rhythm, and I felt very happy. I was also seeing all this fun, wacky clown stuff. All these crazy geometric patterns. It seemed like they were laughing at me. Then there were these little elf things. I couldn’t see them but they were letting me know that they were there. I felt very happy, like, “Yeah, this is where I’m supposed to be.”
That was the most intense thing ever. The whole room was dancing. To my left all I saw was fantasy. I was going through something very fucking serious. You’re beyond consciousness—but you are consciousness—and you want nothing to tie you down to this physical realm. I went through so many dreams and so many scenarios. It was basically a concentrated dream. I was awake but I couldn’t make the dream stop.
It hit really fast. After the second puff there were like Slinkys everywhere. Colorful Slinkys that were not necessarily attacking me, but coming towards my face. And all the colors that were in the room, that I imagined were in the room, were coming at me as well. It was beautiful.
I felt really physically heavy. I couldn’t even lift up the bottle to smoke or hold the lighter. And time slowed down. It felt like a good 15 minutes, but maybe it was only 30 seconds. The colors were really awesome—lots of greens, lots of neons. I felt like I was watching myself through a wall for part of it. The sound of the camera was really trippy.
At first it was like straight up kaleidoscopic. And then there were pyramids, and then symbols within the pyramids, and they were melting together, combining. It felt like I was in infinite bosoms. Straight up love and warmth and tits and honey. It was like having the sun shining right here. It wasn’t super hot, just like the warmest glow.
Everything looked like a painting. And her hair was going mental—it was like spaghetti. Every angle was tripled. Everything had angles. Looking around was like paint-by-numbers. It got really weird at some point. I felt like the room was closing in and everything was smaller, and that white space tripped me out. I was like, “Wow, there’s so much white there!”
The visual side of things was like doing acid or mushrooms. I felt tingly and I had a body high or whatever. When I lied down and was listening to Iggy Pop, you were taking a picture of me and I still felt self-conscious. I don’t think I lost sight of myself enough to think that wasn’t absurd and funny. So then I sat back up again, and it got hella intense when I sat back up. It was a lot like the more intense moments of acid.
Almost the strangest part is how quickly you come down. With acid it lingers for a day sometimes—the whole next day you feel weird. With this you pretty much feel normal almost immediately afterwards. I still feel kind of strange because I remember the experience of doing the drug. And I’m probably gonna think about it a few times for the rest of the day. It’s like a way less time- and energy-intensive acid trip.
It’s hard to talk about it. I could see patterns within the design patterns that were supposed to be there, and they all moved and looked ill as shit. The curtains looked like doilies. There was like this weird place where I felt like it had its own motion, and then there was a place where everything I was listening to and looking at and thinking about met, and that place was the drug… or something. It’s weird how it comes off, too. It’s just a little less intense and then a little less intense until you’re not high anymore. The visuals are so strong. Like everything looked beautiful. For something that extremely mind-bending it’s really easy.
When it first hit I could see the room start to breathe, and then I felt myself going limp. It was what I imagine being in the womb would be like. Everything was safe and warm. It was very fluid and what you imagine the sun would be like. I cried for some reason. I remember thinking there was a message for me there.
Originally posted here
The same force responsible for rigging the Global Economic Collapse and The Iraq War has now taken things a step further and tricked Hip America into enjoying a Monster Energy Drink-chugging Kid Rock collaborator.
Born Michael Wayne Atha, Yelawolf is a Heartland rapper of Caucasian descent who has produced zero notable or listenable tracks. This is a photograph taken of him a few years ago:
As you can see, he definitely does not look cool. A quick listen to his music will invoke reactions of a similar nature. That’s because Yelawolf’s flow, style and attitude are merely an updated version of the very non-cool Rap-Rock movement of the late 90’s pioneered by Limp Bizkit and The Kottonmouth Kings. On top of that he is B.F.F’s with Kid Rock, the republican activist and sick nihilist behind the smash hits “Cowboy” and “Batwitdaba,” who also happens to be known for performing a “God Bless the Troops” special during a professional wrestling match. Not very hip.
Why then, has someone who appears to embody the antithesis of contemporary hipsterdom gained such a significant cyberspace presence from hip media outlets? Why is a bad Fred Durst impersonator who dresses like Kriss Angel: Mind Freak selling out hipster showcases and venues? Why did The Fader put a man with a dubstep meme haircut on their cover?
The answer is simple: Yelawolf is being funded by the New World Order. Take a look at the new vid he just released with fellow country boy Kid Rock:
Did you, besides the most overly rambunctious dance move in contemporary history at the three minute mark, notice anything suspect? How about the subtle Monster Energy Drink cameos? Freeze frame on that and examine the logo.
Three Vav’s, the Hebrew character for six. 666. The number of the beast. The number most associated with the Apocalypse/New World Order/Illuminati. The answer to the Yelawolf paradox has been product-placed before our very eyes. He is the tool of a Satanic world government. A force that has time and time again outdone itself, this time penetrating anti-mainstream Hipster America. Like lemmings running off a cliff, the skinny-jeaned line up for their heartland rap-rock tickets and mp3s. Cattle lining up for the slaughter.
BLACK CRACKER IS GOD.