On April 20, Londoners of all persuasions hit Marble Arch near Buckingham Palace to partake in the ultimate smoke sesh. I was joined by my very good friend and talented artist, Matthew the Stoat, for the afternoon, and together we floated through the sea of tranquility. We were pleasantly surprised to see all manner of folk—from police to road-men to festival thots and Chelsea cool kids–all sitting together to smoke a bowl and grin stupidly at each other. 

There was a drum and bass army marching through the crowd, a live boxing match, and Camberwell carrots galore. As we sat there watching, smoking, and taking snaps, we got to talking. Most of the fine people I’ve met in this “business” have fallen into the same familiar bouts of political lethargy: what’s the point, movements are shit, these people suck, it’s all over. It’s in these sad blackpill moments when you think—maybe the adults were right, maybe none of it does matter, maybe you can only worry about your own front lawn, maybe it is all a simulation. 

But then, looking around, we thought; none of these people like the government. They might dislike it for different reasons—far-left, far-right, too gay, not gay enough, but if someone called it I think we’d all join in the purge.

Yes, the “movements” might be dead. But maybe we don’t need them any more. Sitting among the fog of smoke, I watched the human art exhibit with a geriatric sense of peace. Do we need to fix this? Look at them. Young, old, whatever. You’d forget that everyone was high. Then you’d catch the giggle, the “woo!” from the girls buying nitrous oxide balloons, the high fives, the fist bumps with strangers, and the silent embraces of friends and lovers enjoying the silence.

There’s some good in this world, and it’s worth smoking for.

YouTubers spent so much time decrying the libs and the SJWs from 2016 onwards that they became the fun police. How can you be pro-counterculture but then decry things like getting stoned, dancing, and listening to music with a bunch of strangers on a sunny day? If we can’t have that, then what’s the point? 

4/20 in London was a glorious day. Controlled degeneracy, in small doses, is life-affirming and quite moving to behold. Whatever the globalists throw at us, don’t let them take away your ability to kick back and enjoy the sun with each other (if we can’t do that, we really are fucked). It may sound trite, but I truly believe that being happy is the best form of protest we’ve got.

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