Religion is a terrorism of the mind.
Fundamentalist or not, it inspires fear of the invisible and the impossible, it discourages critical thinking, and it banishes the sceptic to an eternity of torture.
Yet religion has become so interwoven into society and so—pardon the imagery here—“bulletproof” to criticism that we ignore its illogic and immorality (as Robert Heinlein once put it, albeit in a different context) “just as fish ignore water.”
Tonight, in a city where just two hours earlier, police ended a pair of stand-offs with Islamic terrorists who killed 17 police officers, cartoonists and Jewish shoppers, the most powerful weapon against this mental scourge could very well be … weed.
The attacks on French satirical newspaper Charlie Hebdo have been cast as a strike at the freedom of expression, a fundamental right in any civilized society. Among the art forms that are most unbridled in their expression—and appropriate “fuck you” antidotes to its suppression—is stoner rock.
Indeed, San Diego’s Harsh Toke embodies, above all else, freedom … specifically, the freedom to light up a doobie and fucking jam.
Released last year, the group’s debut album is a bracing sprint through psychedelia and metal, with just a soupçon of Southern rock. Less riff-reliant than Earthless, less doom-heavy than Sleep, the Tokers give free rein to their inner pothead. Like all hard-rock stoner bands, it owes an enormous debt of gratitude to Black Sabbath, but Harsh Toke focuses on the life-affirming ecstasy of the high rather than the snarling malice of the dark.
It is fitting that, on this night, in this town, the vicious guitar leads don’t express anger or despair or doom … but rather joy and exhilaration, the white-water thrill ride that life can be at its most wonderful, most invigorating moments. On several occasions throughout the show, guitarists Justin Figueroa and Gabe Messner look at each other, mid-jam, and smile. The munchies have clearly not made them grumpy.
The quartet ends its set with the album’s title track, “Light Up And Live.” The song builds from a slow, deliberate groove into an exuberant gangbang of notes awash in wah. Tonight, the band reminds us of the taste of freedom in one’s lungs. Sure, sometimes when you take a big gulp, it burns going down. A harsh toke, indeed. But you’re still the better for it.
No mention of the terrorist attacks is made from the stage or the crowd. The audience is grateful for the respite, relieved simply to ride the good vibes.
The death cult of religion devalues this life and tries to sell you on the unknown and unknowable prize “behind door number two.” So yeah, Light up and live. But most importantly: live.
#JeSuisCharlie
—Eric Bensel
