What Happens If Four Other New York Times Columnists - And Malcolm Gladwell - Get Really High?

Thomas L Friedman eats weed brownies with his daughter's roommate at Yale and has a bad time

Reminds me of the last time I visited Thailand. What a country! What a place! Full of life, and moisture, like this brownie. Kids these days don't eat brownies like we used to in the old days. The brownies of our time were unicycles. These brownies are tricycles. But tricycles are obsolete. Or are they?

One thing I've learned from my many travels is that obsolete is the new cutting edge. Countries with McDonald's don't go to war with other countries with McDonald's! Until they did. I sure could use some McDonald's right now!

The world is flat. Everything is flat. The floor is flat. The walls are flat. I am flat. Please stop looking at me.

Silicon Valley is like an upside-down-reverse Venezuela and it won't stop watching me from the shadows.

I wish I could stop falling through this couch. It can't be helped. If there's a lesson we should all take away, it's this: China.

Paul Krugman snorts up crushed Adderall and re-reads Thomas Piketty's Capital in the Twenty-First Century

Inequality in America is at an all-time high. The golden age of Keynesianism has dissolved into darkness. But no cadre of plutocrats can keep me or Thomas Piketty in check and holy shit I feel like a fucking champion right now.

Some may allege errors in Piketty's work, but their assertions are inherently fallacious. You see, I can out-analyze you with one hand tied behind my back while pacing frantically back and forth trying to pronounce Piketty's name while dry-mouthed. Pik-etty. Piketty Piketty Piketty Piketty.

Irregular data? I'll show you irregular. Feel my fucking heartbeat.

I'd hardly go so far as to claim that a certain columnist at the Financial Times is a lapdog for the oligarchic elite. But his irresponsible claims have been trumpeted throughout the media, despite fundamental fucking flaws in his data analysis ... GOD I want to SHOUT at the TOP OF MY LUNGSRIGHT NOW.

Cui bono? The oligarchs. As I already told you, in 2008.

Hey, who wants to run down the street and jack Larry Summers's car?

Gail Collins takes ecstasy, belatedly realizes she has a column to write

Boy, do I love the summertime! The sun is shining, school's out, and Congress is in recess. Not that anyone's noticed! We're just hanging out, looking at pictures of Rihanna at the CFDA awards and watching John Travolta movies on Netflix. Which is a lot more than the Senate is doing!

We should turn on some music!

I think we all pine for the good old days when politicians actually wrote bills, and bills actually became laws and can I rub your arms a little? The other day I was watching Grease with my dogs and it made me think about the Tea Party in the primaries. I love Grease. My dogs are really soft. Here, see for yourself. Right?

If you think partisan politics are the problem: they're not. The problems run deeper. Just ask Harry Reid. Gosh, you know, I think I love Harry Reid.

And yes! I love you, too.

Ross Douthat is on psilocybin mushrooms when he first sees pictures of Rihanna at the CFDA Fashion Awards

Our permissive society – rather than inculcating virtue and responsibility – wallows in the mire of libidinousness. Are we to be a nation of shameless libertines? And can someone tell me what that noise is?

When a country loses its moral compass, an unbearable vertigo plagues our every step. Can you feel that? The newspapers and television stations remain fixated on the tawdry, glittering spectacle of this Rihanna – a songstress who has likely never even heard of St Augustine – even as the gravitational pull of the universe warps around me like a pulsating cocoon entirely absent of light.

I do not like Rihanna; I do not approve of the way her eyes glow purple-cyan-pink. Why is she looking at me like that?

What is "fashion" anyways, but a celebration of vanity and frivolousness? We should pursue higher truths: let us shed the falseness of apparel, together, and writhe naked on this carpet.

Malcolm Gladwell on ketamine

Consider the rollerblade. Once an icon of fast-paced, rebellious youth culture, it ... has ... faded ... i n t o ...


The rollerblade is an in-line skate. One day in 1987, a young man by ... the ... n a m ...

In a way, you could say that rollerblades are the precursor to the Internet. I need to lie down, I think.


I have a lot of thoughts right now.


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