Late yesterday afternoon, just as I was about to listen to Bill Withers’ “Lovely Day” for the tenth time in a row because of terrifying, oppressive, militarized, tyrannical reasons, a coworker (who shall remain nameless because I practice serious journalism and because I don’t fuck with no snitches, so don’t tell me who telling) gchatted me a link to the Eyce Mold and Accessory Kit. No explanation, no context, just a listing for a contraption that makes pipes out of ice.
I think said coworker assumed my reaction would be that of Charlie first laying eyes upon the Chocolate Factory — wonder, delight, and desire followed by a suspicious inquiry regarding the shnozzberries. While I didn’t mean to disappoint, I was in a very vulnerable state and couldn’t reign in my emotions any longer — I’m fairly certain I rolled my eyes and made a staccato noise of disapproval, a reaction more align with what I imagine Charlie’s mom felt every time she looked at Grandpa Joe’s lazy, selfish, scumbag carcass snuggled in bed.
I remember a world where sneaking out into your best friend’s garage and turning a used Gatorade bottle, pilfered from the recycling, into a makeshift bong was as innovation and Inspector Gadget 2.0 as smoking weed got. Now pieces look like something out of The Sharper Image or SkyMall with more upgrades and customizable features than any of X to the Z Xzibit’s most pimped rides. The simple pleasure of rolling a spliff on your pant leg while in the passenger seat of your prom date’s mom’s Toyota Sienna has been superseded by amateur chemistry sets that turn smoking into a process involved enough to win a seventh-grade science fair. I’d never thought I would say this but I’d much rather hang out with the Ras Trent look-a-likes who populate college quads and talk about their “life-changing” in experiences in Amsterdam than the weed-tech geek who won’t shut up about how the “purest” high comes from shooting weed vapors through prisms and then Shrinky Dinking the resulting colors into THC icicles that you then melt into eye drops.
If the below products prove anything, it’s that weed gadgetry has gotten out of control.
The Eyce Pipe
Okay, sure, smoking out of ice sounds cool — I’d feel like I was in Narnia, hanging with Tilda Swinton, and I don’t hate that idea — but look at what the kit (the fact that something I’m going to smoke weed out of comes with a kit is ALREADY TROUBLING TO ME) includes:
— Silicone Mold
— Core Pin
— Down Stem
— Mouth Piece
— User Manual
A USER MANUAL?! Stoners don’t want to thumb through a user manual before their routine wake-and-bake; they can’t even be trusted to find their shoes! Just surviving the process of assembling the Eyce Pipe would require multiple hits of weed.
Getting high should never require a heating chamber, digital readout, and timer, unless you are making edibles and even then stick to the Easy Bake, kids. And a timer? I’m smoking weed to forget that time exists; the last thing I need is some blaring noise to disrupt all the 311 songs playing in my head. You don’t even want to know how much this guy costs. $670. SIX HUNDRED AND SEVENTY DOLLARS. Do you know how many pipes made out of Pringles cans you can buy in St. Marks with that kind of money?
So you are taking something that is supposed to protect you from inhaling airborne pollutants and toxic gases and just sticking the gas right inside? Yeah, that doesn’t sound dangerous at all… Also do you really want to go out and buy a gas mask in public? You’ll have the exact same thing in your basket as that weirdo doomsday prepper who warns everyone about electromagnetic pulses and no one will know that you’re just a chill millennial who is more afraid of the end of her burrito bowl than the end of the world.
I’m sorry, I’m not David Bowie and my weed isn’t Jennifer Connelly. I don’t want to send my desired smoke on a ten-hour journey through a technicolored glass labyrinth before it reaches my mouth. Who looked at Krazy Straws and thought Yeah, that, but FOR MARIJUANA... And if this is what we’re doing, why no silly Zong eyeglasses? If I’m inducing hyperventilation just in order to take a hit from a bong, I better have some smoke traveling around my goddamn eyes!
After visiting four different websites including HighTimes and Urban Dictionary (and hating myself and my search history for it), I still don’t fully understand what dabs are. I didn’t even know that dabs were a thing before today. From what I understand, dabs are a form of hash that was made in a process that somehow involves butane and concentrating and extracting and/or something. All that matters to me is that it looks like bird shit and I’m not putting that in my body.
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