When Sagan toked up

Carl Sagan, in 1969, on marijuana and the paranoid rantings he scrawled while stoned:

If I find in the morning a message from myself the night before informing me that there is a world around us which we barely sense, or that we can become one with the universe, or even that certain politicians are desperately frightened men, I may tend to disbelieve; but when I’m high I know about this disbelief. And so I have a tape in which I exhort myself to take such remarks seriously. I say ‘Listen closely, you sonofabitch of the morning! This stuff is real!’

(Via Ed Page, who’s reading up and down the West Coast next week.)

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