Books - You've heard of steampunk - welcome to... weedpunk

[lulz]

Hur

In the world of fantasy and sci-fi, there’s genres like steampunk, cyberpunk, alternate history fiction, gay dragon car-sex fanfiction and there’s weedpunk. Weedpunk is sort of like steampunk except instead of a retro future full of brass instruments and cogs and green glass goggles, there’s…. weed. Lots and lots of weed.

According to Weedpunk.org, which is what I assume is THE authority on the weedpunk genre, weedpunk is defined as:

Weedpunk is a subgenre of fantasy and speculative fiction which came into prominence in the 1960’s and early 1970’s. The term denotes works set in an era or world where weed power is still widely used and shows a type of “the path not taken,” wherein technologies are shown operating based on weed smoke and bong water. Weedpunk usually has themes of oppressive governments, rebellion, drug counterculture, dystopia, containing elements of hope such as laughing at topics most people would consider frightful, and having periods of deep introspection.

The weedpunk genre often contains similar themes, such as:

*Weed as a form of currency
*Weed powered vehicles
*Clothes made of weed
*A large central weed machine, blowing weed smoke into the air creating a permanent
“Cannabis Winter” effect
*Laughing at things that most people fear
*Themes of loss or forgetfulness
*Deep introspection
*World hunger
*A common array of heroes who were prominent during the drug culture such as Bob
Dylan and Jimi Hendrix.
*Weed bars - areas of relative safety for rebellious weed smokers, due to the fact that
the establishments are protected by contracts which must be signed by all entrants
which has a “no law enforcement” clause

It all sounds like a load of shit to me. Not that you couldn’t replace stuff in sci-fi with weed… hell, some writers make entire careers on doing stupid things like inventing a future where the letter J is replaced with the letter R or whatever, but it sounds like a load of shit because as anyone who’s tried to write anything stoned out of your mind, it always seems like you’re writing something so incredibly poignant and world-changing, but when you’re sober again, you realize what you wrote was just stupid hippie drivel.

Here’s a super short story called “DARE to Resist”:

Another day. Every day the same damn thing. If I have to wake up one
more day in this weed-forsaken world…
There was a knock at the door. I went to go answer it.
“Hey man, it’s me, Steven. I got the stuff you asked for man.” I let him in.
Right now he was our only hope. Imagine leaving the entire hope of the
resistance in the hands of a jittery stoner. But he had another quality that
was more useful: he was very nondescript. He could go anywhere or get
anything. And that’s why we needed him.
“Where are they?” I asked.
“Right here, I got ‘em both.” He handed me two discs which I put inside
my computer.
“Well?” I waited expectantly.
“Oh right, sorry.” He shoved a dimebag of weed into the computer’s central
thermal processor. I don’t know why I had to wait, he knows I never touch
the stuff. At least, not since…
“It’s loading… hey what’s with the fan man?” I explained to him that I
couldn’t deal with the marijuana fumes from the computer. Perhaps one
day I’ll be able to live normally again. I continued typing and exploring the
discs.
“Hmm… perfect. You did a great job Steven.” I handed him a wad of
cashish. “Now, I need you to go down to the subway, the maintenance
door in track 420. The code is Lean, Mean, and Green. Tell them we
have it.”
“Have what?” He looked stunned, but excited by the money-making
opportunities this now presented.
“The plans for every DARE robot, ATM, and scanner in the city of New
York. Go quick, we don’t have much time.” I grabbed my grass mask so I
could walk outdoors through the thick atmosphere laced with THC.
“Where are you going?”
“It’s time for me to get back at Uncle Sam for what he did to me.” I walked
off quickly without looking back.

...

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