The fix. Neil Young, in a Rolling Stone interview with Howard Stern, offers this treatment for weed-induced paranoia: chew some ‘black pepper balls.’ I’m thinking he must mean peppercorns.
On the off chance that peppercorns are the latest panacea, I tried chewing just two of them. Not because I’d been smoking dope, and not because I was feeling especially paranoid. Just because like, whatever, eh? And they were good. Not as good as finding one by accident in a nice salad or pasta dish, but good. And, I imagined, I became suffused with a sense of well-being. A kind of oneness with a generally benign world.
The panacea. Next thing I was routinely chewing peppercorns as a hedge against insomnia, sleepiness, melancholia, bad breath, hunger, Angst and simple boredom. I’ve hesitated to try smoking myself into a proper state of paranoia but, given all the pepper I’m ingesting more or less for the hell of it, I’d probably find I was immune.
Mind you, I now resist the notion of ever again dipping into a Reader’s Digest (only in dentists’ waiting rooms, okay?) for fear I’ll learn that peppercorn addiction notoriously induces apathy and general emotional disconnectedness. For the same reason, I no longer read the health pages in newspapers.
Living forever. The other morning I inadvertantly entered into an insomnia-induced trance akin to that typically experienced by shamans. It was in this altered state of consciousness that it occurred to me that I should steep cracked black peppercorns together with a bunch of parsley and drink the tea. And damned if it didn’t taste pretty good. Not only that, but I listened to my body as I drank this stuff, and my body said “Dude!”, which I took to mean something like good shit. Not only that, it was much cheaper than sencha tea, my usual swill.
My suspicion is that if I went online to look — which I’m not going to do because I don’t care — I’d discover that once again I’ve reinvented the bicycle. Generations of New Agers and their ilk have probably already been there and done that.
Bonus lore. Magic drink #1 and magic drink #2.
Be careful you don’t become a peppercorn addict. As I recall, you used to be at your best when you were drinking alcohol. I recommend reverting to that noble habit.
It would be a genuine face-loser if you were asked to list your addictions on a medical form and couldn’t put down anything more exciting than “I’m addicted to peppercorns.”
On the other hand, it would enhance your public image immensely if we could start calling you Peppercorn Piprell.