"420 Blaze It," Says Burning Monk

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By Ariel Leal

April 20th is celebrated by many, taken as a day of excess, intoxication and a bullish commitment to tired social media memery. And not just by Nazi’s (it is Hitler’s Birthday, but don’t worry, we did not even THINK of baking him a cake. We spit on Hitler. Petoowee!). Unbeknownst to many, 4/20 is also the day that a clandestine group of “weedheads” come out of the woodwork to smoke too much weed—the one day they do the thing they do everyday, and feel good about it. We here at Nonsense Humor, find this offensive, and antithetical to the spiritual and socio-religious importance the consumption of cannabis holds for so many. So we interviewed a monk. Hofstra’s only monk. Typically reclusive, we had only briefly corresponded with him online, and set a date (4/20) and a time (4:20) to meet him. We were not told he would be setting himself on fire when we got there.

As we approach the 18 year-old caucasian male and also self-proclaimed Buddhist monk he enlightens us on the importance of self-immolation especially on a momentous occasion such as the celebration of weed inhalation. He had this to say on the matter, “WELL YOU SEE, I’M A PRACTICING BUDDHIST, WHICH MEANS THAT I’M A MONK. YOU HAD YOUR BURNING MONK DURING THE VIETNAM WAR AND I THINK THAT’S WHAT ALL OF US MONKS WANT TO ACHIEVE. A FRIEND OF MINE NOTED THE DATE AND HE TOLD ME TO BLAZE IT SO I DID SOME DEEP INTROSPECTION AND HERE I AM!”

Keeping in mind that his perpetual shouting was not due to pain, rather, an attempt to literally have his voice heard over the violent roaring of flames that consumed his entire body, we pressed him further, and more loudly. On the topic of his beliefs, John Jacob Weedman (that’s not his real name) had only this to say, “THERE SEEMS TO BE A LOT OF PUSH-BACK WHEN IT COMES TO WEED SMOKING BUT I THINK WE HAVE TO WAKE THE SHEEPLE OF AMERICA UP TO REALIZE THE TRUE BENEFITS OF MARIJUANA. DID YOU KNOW THIS SHIT ACTUALLY GIVES YOU BRAIN CELLS? EVERY GENIUS IN HUMAN HISTORY SMOKED WEED. MICHAEL PHELPS SMOKES WEED. YOU THINK GALILEO SAW STARS AND SHIT SOBER? FUCK THAT, BRO, IT TAKES A LITTLE GANJ TO GET TO THAT LEVEL OF ENLIGHTENMENT. NEWTON PROBABLY SMOKED...OUR OWN PRESIDENTS SMOKED WEED TOO, I MEAN “FOUR SCORE” COME ON BRO THAT MEANS 420!”

At this point we didn’t have much else to say so he asked us if we wanted to see “SOMETHING COOL” which involved smoking a joint from one of the newly melted holes in his face. We’re forced to objectively report that it wasn’t even a little bit cool. The boy then tried to educate us on the topic of the diverse biology of weed. “DID YOU KNOW THAT THERE’S MORE THAN ONE KIND OF WEED?” asked J.J. Weedman. “PEOPLE DON’T REALLY REALIZE IT BUT THERE’S ALL KINDS OUT THERE I MEAN YOU GOT YOUR ACHILLEA MILLEFOLIUM, BELLIS PERENNIS, CIRSIUM ARVENSE, PLANTAGO MAJOR, AND MY PERSONAL FAVORITE, TARAXACUM OFFICINALE.”

Weedman also possessed small, metal crates full of herbs and covered in Sublime decals. When asked what their contents were, he told us, “OH THAT’S JUST MY PERSONAL COLLECTION. I GOT MY HANDS ON A FINE LITTLE NUMBER CALLED TOXICODENDRON RADICANS!”

Despite many warnings on our part to prevent him from smoking what is literally just poison ivy, he said, “COME ON, BRO! IT’S GOT ‘RAD’ IN THE NAME! YOU KNOW I GOTTA SMOKE THAT SHIT.”

We understood how impressive it was, either way, that he was sacrificing himself for his beliefs, whether it be by self-immolation or suffocation by the inhalation of burnt poison ivy smoke. To be completely honest, there’s a lot of different ways a person can die in a situation as unique as this one. That being said, our monk friend said, and we quote, “HAHAH WHAT DO YOU MEAN, BRO? MONKS CAN’T DIE!” There was a pause before he continued. “WE LIKE RESURRECT AND SHIT, MAN! IT’S FUCKING DOPE!”

We can neither confirm nor deny the validity of this statement and made this known to him. There wasn’t a lot of time for him to fully be concerned with the possibility that there is not, in fact, life after death so he instead chose to accept his demise with a heartfelt message, mostly involving his excitement to experience Nirvana.

F-FOUR TWENTY BLAZE IT! HAHA...Y-YES! I’M COMIN, KURT! I’M GONNA GO SEE THE WHOLE GANG JUST LIKE THEY PROMISED! DAVE! KRIST! KURT! I’M GONNA...I’M...I LOVE..SMELLS LIKE TEEN SPIRIT….”

Well there you have it. We are legally obligated to report whether or not this small man actually died. He did. He definitely fucking died. You don’t light yourself on fire before smoking poison ivy and survive.

Anyway, happy weed number day, you filthy pringles. Only eight more days until Arbor Day!