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Rating: From Wikipedia: "Charas is a type of hashish produced by extracting the resin of Cannabis, it contains the same psychoactive substance as Cannabis (THC) and is part of the so-called "soft drugs". The word is the ancient name in the Himalayan language for hashish."
From the personal experience of me and too many other people: Death from THC overdose does not exist, it’s good for the novice cannabinoid psychonaut to know this. Too much THC can still lead to two unpleasant things: the so-called "collapse" due to a drop in blood sugar (easily mitigated with a couple of tablespoons of honey or, in fact, sugar) and the even less pleasant panic attack or anxiety crisis. What's important to highlight about an anxiety crisis is that 90% of it is due to hyperventilation, meaning that if you avoid panicking and manage to control your diaphragm and breathe slowly and deeply, you can get rid of it pretty quickly. It's also important to note that the first time it happens you won't touch a joint for a year and a half, so to cut it short, it's a really really bad thing yet it’s manageable and even manageable well.
A panic attack due to psychological issues is the exact same thing, it goes without saying that if an external substance does not trigger it but the individual's already "weak" psyche does, managing it becomes decidedly more difficult. And I say this because I don't want anyone coming up to me saying "You're downplaying panic attacks." No, I'm not doing that, I'm talking about THC-induced panic attacks.
I was supposed to talk about a concert though...
Agatha+Morkobot+Ovo.
Boom!
I'll only talk about Morkobot though, because I'll already bore you enough with them.
As usual, I'm accompanied by the loyal Rez: we enter Leoncavallo, discover that on the eleventh of next month it will be evicted, we search for the place where someone should eventually start playing, we grab a beer, wait an eternity before someone actually gets on stage, we watch and listen to the Agatha while sipping, and then thank god, with an hour and a half delay on the last given appointment, Morkobot get on the stage.
All right, good, let's start.
Little premise: I’ve seen Morkobot two other times, both while smoking, and in both cases, I was a step away from a panic attack, which I now manage marvelously or almost, and all in all, if managed, I find it quite amusing (I deeply apologize to anyone who, due to his own problems, suffers from anxiety crises, seriously, again, I don't want to downplay anything of your affliction, I’m talking about my experiences and only mine, which I don't ask to be taken as an example, and I don't want to teach anyone anything, enough, okay, I've apologized enough, it's all clear, let's just continue).
After an hour and a half of waiting, I stick my hand in my pocket and pull out the joint laced with cream that I had saved since this afternoon.
Now, if you haven't smoked for a long time, the idea of taking a charas joint is not the smartest. The idea of taking it under the speaker at a heavy-psych concert makes it a rather stupid idea. The idea of taking it under the speaker of a heavy psych band that plays at slapping your synapses is pure bullshit. My avatar is a monkey, so I am justified, you are not.
Between puffs, Lin, Lan, and Lon settle in comfortably, push the pedals and the skins, and start massacring the canonical times of music (which I don't know what they are, but I still believe the phrase gives an idea. If you're high, I swear it does). Behind them, a psychedelic video achieved from footage of a 60s sci-fi movie projected kaleidoscopically is shown. If I were as cool as I pretend to be, I’d be able to tell you which movie was used for the video production, unfortunately, I recognize the costumes, I recognize the pre-blade runner sci-fi style, but I'm unable to clear the fog inside my brain that prevents me from saying what the hell that movie is. Maybe it's just a 60s sci-fi movie, they all look the same, goodnight, goodbye. But I should recognize it regardless given how much I boast.
It's the fourth puff, and I already start realizing that loading it as if I were still on the twelve-a-day round wasn't a good idea; the good thing is that for the first time, Morkobot aren’t hurting me.
Then Rez opens the dance.
He leans into my ear and hollers, "HEY, BUT YOU CAN'T HEAR LAN'S BASS!!!" I look at Lan and believe that all in all Rez is right. "I believe" because all in all I think (indeed, I am certain) I’m already at the stage where I can't understand shit anymore so who knows if it’s true, but I convince myself that’s the case. And Christ no, this sucks, now the concert is going to look lame, I took candy and popcorn for this concert and then it turns out I'm coming out with semi-intact ears because there’s only one bass, and what’s the point of Morkobot without a bass? The only positive thing is that with just one bass maybe my ears will be less hammered, and maybe this time I won't get panic precursors, but I'm here for those and yet Christ, it’s starting to get hot in here and lacking air and.. Christ, the panic, it's coming. No damn come on, I'm already bummed out that I can’t hear a bass, and now I’m getting panicky, what do I do? Leave and get some air? Stay inside and try to manage it? And what is the film they're projecting after all? And the flash machine that Morkobot brought the other times, what happened to it? That really helped to build up anxiety, but my god thankfully they didn’t bring it because I've already got anxiety here and if I don’t manage it? And why are the beers here so small? How much do I have left to smoke? A third? Holy names, I’ll never finish it now, toss it on the ground NO WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU SAYING yes sorry you’re right, no but what the hell let me see the video that maybe I can focus on something and come back, let me breathe deeply. wow missing a bass but it's like other times: it’s not a concert, it's a torture. What a blast, and then there are people who go to get beaten up by Amon Amarth, but go shitting!!!
BANG! silence the guy on my left has a breath that will knock out even those who will put up with Amon Amarth at the general warehouses the day after tomorrow. Silence. Why do I always get stuck near those with perceivable personal hygiene problems? Silence. What the hell is happening? Silence.
What happened is that a piece ended, and I believe to understand that Lan is looking towards the mixer and saying that he's got some problems, and it seems to me that they even solve them for him because as soon as they start playing again, I finally hear two basses (what I heard in the last twenty minutes, I don't know and all in all, I barely remember what I thought).
Great, now I'm able to convince myself that Morkobot are in splendid form. From "Morto" they do just one, I think; From "Morbo" they do a bit more, I think they also do something new from the upcoming imminent split, or anyway they do pieces I don’t recognize. Under the speakers, it really has very little importance: I know the ears don't bleed because every five or six minutes I stick a finger in them in a futile attempt to unplug them from the silence plug typical of tired eardrums, the body sways back and forth trying to follow one of the sixty-five different rhythms that are marked every thirty seconds, panic resides under the epithelial layer, steady, still, it neither moves forward nor backward, it has found its cathartic state and enjoys it to the fullest. I enjoy it to the fullest. From the back of the room comes an unmistakable request: "Zorgongollac, coproido!". Zorgongollac is the only Morkobot song whose title I know; I join in with the requester, and I also pay my respects to the creator.
The concert continues, and a side to me is a mini ultra quadragenarian (not to make a bad impression), bless him: he will shield my right ear which by this point I no longer even know if it can hear an air raid siren. Ten minutes pass, and a mini ultra-thirty-niner arrives who says something to him and they go away, damn: my ear is crying, at this point it could in fact be crying blood. I place the whole palm on it hoping to stop a bit of the pounding noise that's been torturing us for almost an hour, and damn it, I recognize it! It’s her, it’s Zorgongollac!!! An explosion of euphoria, I couldn't give a damn about the ear, which I didn’t care about before either: I'm having a blast here like a madman, only occasionally I think that health can be important, maybe I shouldn’t even smoke, oh god: but the joint? Damn I finished it without even realizing it, and I’m not even high! Wait, never mind, I’d say that I’m pretty bent, I think my neurons are currently stuck, and what’s happening? what wait no nOOOOO it’s Terrore nello spazio. That fabulous video was made starting from Terrore nello spazio. Terrore nello spazio, I don’t know if you get it: "TERRORE NELLO SPAZIO".
The concert ends, and damn it: it’s Terrore nello spazio!!! I need to go immediately jerk off!
Having told you almost nothing about the concert, I inform you that: Lan is as nerdy as he is nice, a lot, to be exact, and we like him a lot like that. He made two records under the name Berlikete that embrace ambient, electronics, and deep basses, and other stuff, which are the end of the world (oh god, let's say they're superduperfreakinawesome, let's avoid exaggeration), and I bought one, the second, the only one available, but I bought it quickly because I had to go jerk off. Lon, the new drummer is perfect, I doubt that he was already there at the Om concert, I will go check. I had heard Agatha on bandcamp, I didn’t like it, live it entertained me a lot, and I almost want to ask the singer if she's available in the next days since she is very cute. The ovo I have reassessed a lot, live they are tribalfikissimi, the last time I saw them I didn’t like them because... I don’t know why; it’s my business. No, I didn’t want to review the concert, I wanted to tell you that I had fun and that I've got a big dick: it took me an hour and ten but in the end holy crap: it was “Terrore nello spazio”, kiss the hand. And now, if it doesn't bother you too much, I'm going to jerk off this blessed time.
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