Satirists From The United States

"We went out last and I got so drunk last night, I woke up this morning and somebody had shit my pants. [audience cheers] I don't know who it was...but I know he eats corn...and cake. Corn cakes, I think that's what he was eating."

"You ever smoke so much pot your wife starts to make sense? Me neither. (30:20)"

"I'm staying tonight, or this week, in the Hotel 1000, and I would like to talk for just a second about their toilets. They've got the best toilets ever, man. They're amazing, you won't believe this if you've never seen one of these. Number one, the seat is heated. Now, that doesn't sound like a lot, but if you're used to a cold toilet seat and then you sit on a warm toilet seat, it's nice. It, like, relaxes your bowel muscles and kinda just helps you crap, you know? It's really nice. And then, on the wall, there's some buttons and one of them says Rear Cleansing and one of them says Front Cleansing; there's a diagram of a guy sitting on a toilet with a stream of water shooting up his ass. So I push a button...and all of a sudden I'm that guy! I am. I'm sitting on the toilet with a stream of water shooting up my ass, and it's amazing...how accurate this thing is. I don't know if everybody's butthole is in the exact same place, but this thing has got me dead cen–ter! And then there's another button below that button that says Oscillate and I said, "Why NOT?" Now I have a rotating stream of water shooting up my ass, and it was at that moment that I realized that 50 million gay men can't be wrong! [audience cheers] I'm singing songs to this toilet, I'm in love! [singing] "I honestly love you..." My wife caught me spreading cake on my ass, just so I could go wash it off. "Is that cake?!" "No, I gotta go to the bathroom...don't wait up.""

"My last stop was in Anchorage, Alaska, which is real handy and a great place to visit in February if you...if you get the chance. After that, I went to Fairbanks, Alaska, and my manager's prediction that there wouldn't be a lot of snow in Fairbanks, Alaska in February was off by about seven and a half fucking FEET! THE most boring town I've ever been to in my life. Sorry if you're from there. It is a bore-hole. And I was stranded there for THREE DAYS. Count 'em, one...tick...[pauses and looks at his watch]...tock...tick...Stranded there with the Eskimo people. Not a great looking group of folks. And I mentioned that onstage and they got pissed off. And I didn't see why they got so mad. I didn't insinuate that they had no character, I mentioned that they weren't attractive...I thought they knew. Apparently, I let some big cat out of the bag. Have you seen their teeth? They can make keys. You don't have to be in Fairbanks very long before you learn what that nose rubbing deal's all about. I'm good. Anyway, I got this scathing letter from the head Eskimo, Frosty or whatever his name was, and halfway through the letter he said he would have me know that the Inuit tribe is one of the purest races on the planet and I'm like, "That's kinda what I'm talkin' about. Nobody will have sex with these people." And then later in the letter it said there are less Inuits every year, which I guess means it's getting to where where they won't even have sex with each other."

"On my way to Alaska, somebody suggested that I watch this movie, which I did. It's called Grizzly Man, and if you get a chance, watch it. It's very entertaining. It's about this guy, a never-do-well out-of-work-actor, who tries to reinvent himself as a filmmaker, and he goes to "grizzly land" and shoots this amazing footage, which was later compiled by Werner Herzog. And, about halfway through the movie, this guy snaps and thinks he's at one with the grizzly bears, and grizzly bears, he says, not only have the capacity for intellect, they have the capacity for sympathy...and then one of them eats him...FUNNIEST movie I've ever seen in my life. I laughed 'till I thought I was going to throw up! [Mimics laughing uproariously] "The bear ate him! That's rich!" And I wondered if this guy's dad, like my dad, ever said to him, "You're never gonna be shit!" [Audience laughs] "Well, you're wrong, poppa. Tomorrow morning, when this bear pushes me through his bowels, I'll be a steaming pile of bear-shit. I hope you're proud, daddy. You have no idea what I had to go through to make your dreams come true. I had to be digested. You know what that's like, daddy? I suppose you don't.""

"I was more fucked-up than Courtney Love at the Pamela Anderson roast!"

"My manager will send me anywhere he wants to, 'cause he doesn't have to fuckin' go."

"I'm sweating scotch out of every pore in my body."

"You know, one of the most-asked questions I get on my website, tatersalad.com, is "How come you aren't more involved in Blue Collar Television?" You know, that's the show Jeff, Larry and Bill do. I'll tell you why—it's because of my work ethic. My grandfather once said, "That boy's got a lot of quit in him," and that's true. Hell, the things I didn't quit, I got kicked out of. I got kicked off the high school debate team for saying "Yeah?! Well, fuck you!" I thought I'd won. The other kid was speechless. I thought that was what we were tryin' to do."

"I told him, "We're all gay. It's just to what extent are you gay." He says, "That's bullshit, man, I ain't gay at all!" I'm like, "Yeah, you are and I'll prove it." He goes, "Fine, prove it." I'm like, "All right, do you like porn?" He says, "Yeah, I love porn, you know that." I'm, "Oh, o you only watch two women together?" He goes, "No, I'll watch a man and a woman making love." I said, "Oh, do you like the guy to have a tiny, half-flaccid penis?" He said, "No, I like big, hard, throbbing co- (stunned pause, applause) ...I did not know that about myself.""

"If I could give advice to the planet, it would be; don't marry for looks alone, going either way, and I'll tell you why. In a few years, if Barbara's boobs start to sag too much, there's a place you can go where they can just lift 'em right back up to where they were. And they can point the nipple wherever they want 'em. You can actually go to a titty bar, pick out a set of titties and say, "I want those titties on that woman right there." If her belly gets too big and she don't wanna work it off, you can go get a tummy tuck- they'll give you a belly that looks like a cheerleader. You know, if your eyes start to go bad, you can have Lasik surgery and they can give you 20/20 vision at any age. If your hearing starts to fail, they can put a device in your ear that'll make you able to hear as good as you could the day you were born. But let me tell you something, folks...you can't fix stupid. There's not a pill you can take, there's not a class you can go to. Stupid is fo-evah."

"I promised Sears I would tell this story on stage every night till the lawsuit's settled. I had my van down at Savannah, Georgia, didn't like the way the tires were wearing on it. I took the van to Sears Automotive, "A trusted name in automotive service." Takes them 3-and-a-half hours to change four tires. Apparently, they had to whittle one of them out of a piece of wheat. I pay them $980 of MY hard-earned money, I take a right-hand turn out of the mall, the left-rear wheel falls off. It falls OFF. It FALLS THE FUCK OFF. Turning my van into a tripod, spinning me into a dimension of "pissed off" I've never been in before in my life!"

"I got thrown out of a bar in New York City. Now when I say I got thrown out of a bar, I don't mean someone asked me to leave, and we walked to the door together, and I said, "Bye, everybody, I gotta go." Six bouncers hurled my ass out of a nightclub like I was a Frisbee. Those big ol' New York bouncers who thinks bouncing's a cool job. They just talk about bouncing. They get together with other bouncers and talk about bouncing. They go home and watch Roadhouse and beat off. [mentally deficient voice] "Patrick Swayze's hittin' another guy! [laughs stupidly]" for wearing a hat. I walk in a bar with a hat on; this guy, real pissy, goes "Take off the hat!" [proceeds to mock-flex, looking much like a gorilla] I'm like, "What's the deal?" "I'll tell you what the deal is- faggots in this area wear hats and we're trying to keep 'em out of our club." I was like, "Oh really? The only way we can tell down in Texas is if they have a haircut like...yours." And he got all pissed. Anyway, I took off the hat, and he walked away. About an hour later, I was drinking and I forgot. You ever forget? It happened to me. I put the hat back on, now, I'm between 6'1" and 6'6", depending on which convenience store I'm leaving, and I weigh about 235 lbs, and this guy is pokin' me on the shoulder with two fingers. He said, "That's it, you're outta here!" I said, "I don't think so, Scooter." And I was wrong. They hurled me out of that night club, and then they decided to square off with me in the parking lot. But I backed down 'cause I didn't know how many of them it was going to take to whip my ass, but I knew how many they were going to use. That's a handy piece of information to have, right there; overkill."

"Let me tell you what I'm looking for in a fuckin' tree. I'm looking for a tree that you can tell is alive even if you don't know shit about trees."

"She got convinced in her crazy head that I had sex with this girl in Columbus, Ohio...and I did, and I'll tell you why. When you enter into a monogamous relationship with somebody, you usually do it at a point in the relationship when you're having a lot of sex. So you're willing to sign the papers. "I'll only have sex with you, ever-ever-ever...ever." Well, if that person stops having sex altogether... why, you find yourself in quite a pickle. I'm a pretty good dog, but if you don't pet me every once in awhile, it's hard to keep me under the porch. I'm not as flexible as real dog. And I'll tell you what happened, too. I was in Columbus, Ohio, and I haven't been laid in three months. Three months! You can't go three months without having sex with me. I'll go have sex with somebody else. I know, I've seen me do it. I did a show one night. I came offstage, there's gorgeous woman, maybe 35, 40 years old, long black dress, slit up to her waist, GORGEOUS. Gimme a second. Just...And I walk off stage, she goes, "I thought you were hilarious. I wanna buy you a drink." I'm like, "I can't do that, I'm married." And she says, "I didn't ask if you wanna have sex, big boy. I asked if you wanna have a drink at my place."...Alright. Now, you know of that little guy that sits on your shoulder and reminds you of your prior commitments and your moral fortitude? I didn't hear a peep out of that guy. He hadn't been laid in 3 months either. He was speechless for like 20 minutes then he was like, "Suck her titty!"..."I was gonna!" I was having a 3-way with my conscience. Soon as the whole thing's over, he's back at his post, saying, "That was wrong, mister!" "Hey! 15 minutes ago, you were beating off on my shoulder, monkey boy!" I hate him. He smokes pot. He burned a hole in my other jacket."

"I found out yesterday there really is a place called Bumfuck, Egypt. And the only way to get there is to go up Shit Creek."

"There was this one crime I read about that was so heinous, I didn't have any words for it. This guy had killed a girl, her mother, and her grandmother without provocation. I mean, I am so pissed off reading this, steam's coming out of my ears. This guy was put on trial and was found guilty and sentenced to death by a jury of his peers. Then, about a week before the execution, a group of people stood up on his behalf, ON HIS BEHALF, to say, "We can't kill him. He's too crazy to know we're killing him!"...So what are we arguing about? If he doesn't know the difference and it makes me sleep better at night..."

"So we're trying to breed Sluggo and get pick of the litter, so we put him with the female dog for a week. And to make sure it takes, we take him to the vet and they do the artificial insemination, and now it don't take shit to get Sluggo to go to the vet! So the last time we go there, the lady says, "Mr. White, if you'll just come with me, I'll show you how to do this, so next time you don't have to bring the dog, you can just bring the sperm." And I'm like [laughing] "No, you go ahead and jack off the dog, he follows me around too much as it is." He'll be following me around like, "Jack me off! Jack me off! You did it once!" Do it yourself. "I don't have any thumbs. [sobbing] I don't have any goddamn thumbs! Now jack me off, you piece of shit!" [feigned shock] Do we talk to Daddy like that? "Please? Please, jack me off, you piece of shit, I don't have any goddamn thumbs."...I've lost my mind."

"The next time you have a thought...let it go."

"She and I got into another argument about the temperature of the dwelling and she took a butcher knife and slashed the tires on my truck. So I dug up an old Polaroid of her and entered it in Hustlers "Beaver Hunt" contest and she won. And I used the money to buy me some new tires, and she super-glues my dick to my stomach, so you see how things get out of hand? [scratches himself in the middle of the chest] Still itches."

"[imitating his cousin Ray on hunting deer] "Well, it was 4 in the mornin'. 22 degrees outside. 'Course, you weren't there...pussy. I'm in a camouflage deer blind, with grease paint on my face. I've got had deer urine on my boots—I'm not sure why. [as himself] I made that part up. [returns to imitating Ray] I've got a .30-06 rifle with a 12 power-scope and a bullet that'll travel at 2,500 feet per second. When that deer looked up to lick the salt sucker I'd hung from the danged ol' tree...caught him right above the eye." "Yeah? Well, I hit one with a van, goin' 55 miles an hour, with the headlights on and the horn blowin'!" Woo, that's an elusive little creature! If you ever miss one, it's because the bullet's moving too fast. Slow the bullet down to 55 miles an hour, put some headlights and a little horn on it, the deer will actually jump in front of the bullet!"

"One time, my wife said to me, [imitating his wife] "Honey, the dryer is broken." [as himself] Did you check the lint trap? [imitating his wife with a clueless face] Sit down, honey, I'll check it. [as his wife] "Was there anything in there?" [as himself] There's a quilt in there. Look! You made a sofa cushion."

"I like to keep the inside of the house between 70 and 75 degrees. My ex-wife liked to keep the inside of the house between 75 and a hundred and fuckin' ten. And you can't keep Tater Salad at that temperature."

"I got happily married to a rich woman. If you ever have a choice, go ahead. Actually, she's not rich at all. Her parents are loooooaaaddddeeeed. And they hate my guuuuuuuuuuutttttsss. And I am waitng for them to diiiiiiiieeeeeeee. And you will know when they die, 'cause you will never see my fat ass again."

"I never had much of a vocabulary. In fact, my friend Bob Schneider would still be alive today if I'd known the difference between "antidote" and "anecdote". He got bitten by a copperhead, and I'm telling him funny stories out of Reader's Digest. His head started to swell, I said "This ain't working". He goes, "READ FASTER!!""

"I bought this big two-story custom van back when I was married. I forgot to tell you this, it was getting kinda cool, it had the James Bond couch in the back, when you push a button, the couch automatically turns into a bed, and I was like, "Well, that's cool." I finally got something over those Mercedes-Benz-driving in-laws of mine, you know what I mean? When I first bought the van, I was real proud of it. I took it straight over to my brother-in-law's house to show it off, 'cause he's such a prick. He takes one look at my new van and he goes [in snobbish accent] "I can't believe you didn't buy a Mercedes-Benz." They don't make a van. "Ron, I don't think you fully understand the intricacies of Mercedes-Benz engineering. Why, I got the three-inch windshield wiper that keeps my headlight clean in a rainstorm." I got a place to fuck your sister. I don't know why they didn't like me."

"I'm a dog lover. Actually, I love my dog, I don't give a shit about your dog. I don't know your dog. Your dog could be an asshole, I don't know."

"In Texas, we have the death penalty and we use it! That's right. You come to Texas and kill somebody, we will kill you back! That's our policy. They're trying to pass a bill right now through the Texas legislature that will speed up the process of execution in heinous crimes where there's more than 3 credible eyewitnesses. That means that if three or more people saw you do what you did, you don't sit on Death Row for 15 years, Jack! You go straight to the front of the line. Other states are trying to abolish the death penalty. My state's putting in the express lane!"

"The Ayatollah of Iran died today and they're desperately trying to find the next Ayatollah. I suggested they pick that guy they just kicked out of the Oak Ridge Boys. Ayatollah Oom Papa Mow Mow!"

"I got 2 Scottish terriers, because if you drink enough Johnny Walker products, eventually they'll just send you the dogs. And we got another 200 head of Scotties on a little ranch in Wyoming. We got little monkey cowboys in hats and vests, riding Shetland ponies, with little toy guns...one of them's the sheriff. Cutest thing you ever saw. No, but I do have 2 little Scottish terriers and their names are Birdy and Bogey, and someone said to me, "Oh, that's cute, they're named after your golf game." I said, "No, if they were named after MY golf game, they'd be called Double Bogey and Where The Fuck Is That Ball Going?, which is kind of a long name for a pet."

"One day, I was picking up dog turds on my front yard, and I realized something: there are 6 people who work for me full-time, so I'm slowly reevaluating everybody's position at Ron White Inc., so that next time, I won't have to be the dog-turd-picker-upper. It's a tie between my pool boy and my tax attorney...and I'm leaning towards the tax attorney. But as I'm picking up these turds, I see one that's massive, even by Sluggo's standards, which are legendary, and I know it's his, because he outshits the Scotties 2-to-1. I'm looking at this turd – I'm admiring it, really – and I begin to think there's lettering on the side of it. I go in the house and get my glasses, because I can't read shit without my glasses. [Audience laughs] And it does. It says "Midland Park Golf Course". Sluggo had eaten and shat whole a golf glove, velcro and all...I rinsed it off and been using it for three weeks."

"I’m an outsider. I will always be an outsider."

"The giant female bodybuilder proves unthinking people wrong who believe feminine beauty can never be harmonious with well developed musculature."

"As a woman with a big ass, I’ve always liked Robert Crumb. Those who are familiar with Crumb’s art only in passing will know him for the big, sturdy, sexualized women he drools over in his comics. “Nice big legs!” one drawing reads, next to an arrow pointing to some nice, big legs. Crumb draws himself as a paltry little nerd, sometimes clinging to the legs of an enormous woman, his eyes hidden completely behind bottle-bottom glasses. Flecks of saliva tend to fly across the paradigmatic Crumb page."

"I was never as cocksure again after that first LSD inspiration. Especially with fame and reputation. You become very uncertain, you have to follow your own act. I never did get that kind of spontaneous cocksureness back again. It’s like going from being the observer to the observed. I had been used to being invisible when I was young. After I became well-known, it was very hard to be anonymous in the world. Of course, at first I liked all the attention. Suddenly, good-looking girls were interested in me! Wow! I couldn’t believe it."

"For a while I was most well known for that [the Janis Joplin album cover], and for “Keep on Truckin’.” That was a drawing that came out of LSD trips, and the words came from a Blind Boy Fuller song from 1935. I drew it in my sketchbook and then for Zap. It sort of caught the popular imagination. It became a horrible popular thing."

"Crumb’s comics are, to be frank, kind of sexist. He has also at times used racist imagery in his comics, to satirical but nonetheless unpleasant effect. The goddesses he manufactures are powerful but they’re not human. They’re iron buttocks, straining shirts. But Kominsky-Crumb is a person, and she draws through the experience of being desired by and desiring Robert Crumb. In this sense, the show is engaging and delightful but also, in a mutual kind of way, redemptive."

"My work has a strong negative element. I have my own inner demons to deal with. Drawing is a way for me to articulate things inside myself that I can't otherwise grasp. What I don't want to do, what I dread more than anything, is to leave a legacy of crap. I don't want my work to be tossed in the dustbin of history, and become more of the second rate, mediocre junk that future connoisseurs will have to move out of the way so they can get at the good stuff."

"Killing yourself is a major commitment, it takes a kind of courage. Most people just lead lives of cowardly desperation. It's kinda half suicide where you just dull yourself with substances."

"When I come up against the real world, I just vacillate."

"As a matter of survival I've created this anti-hero alter-ego, a guy in an ill-fitting suit—part humunculus and part clown. Yep, that's me alright … I could never relate to heroes. I have no interest in drawing heroic characters. It's not my thing, man. I'm more inclined toward the sordid underbelly of life. I find it more interesting to draw grotesque, lurid, or absurd pictures, and I especially enjoy depicting my fevered sexual obsessions."

"What the hell is this?? Who can tell me?? Does anybody know?? How can I find out more about it?? One thing's sure: the human mind can't "know" it...why does one want to "know"?? Is it a quest for "freedom"? One no longer wishes to be a puppet dancing on the strings of...of what? Animal instincts?? Learned reflexes? Programmed behavior?? Ingrained habits of perception?? How limited are we by the experience of our senses, by our physical nature?? To be fully alive is a stupendous struggle! We want the rewards without the struggle--- ---a fatal error! ...No such thing as an easy life! Everybody has a hard time...struggle or die! To find out what's really going on it's necessary to get around the ego..an art requiring persistent and determined effort...Me, me, me...myself & I...oh no!!! Trapped in my stupid self!"

"I never had a strategy in my dealing with other humans! I've always been very passive socially. I went along with their agenda. I had none of my own! Left to my own devices I stayed in my room or wandered aimlessly in the streets, fantasizing about bizarre things I yearned to do to big ladies, or filled with self-pity and resentment. I was helpless in the presence of other people! My main concern was to make them like me by being as agreeable as possible, and secondly to impress them with my brilliance, my sharp wit, my originality, and my fundamental saintliness. Over time, and after years—decades—of diligent practice, I became very good at this cute little performance of mine. But this performance was improvised in the moment, catered to suit whoever I happened to be with. There was no strategy. It was always an effort. Only in solitude was I completely relaxed. Funny thing..."

"I knew I was weird by the time I was four. I knew I wasn't like other boys. I knew I was more fearful. I didn't like the rough and tumble most boys were into. I knew I was a sissy."

"I'm such a negative person, and always have been. Was I born that way? I don't know. I am constantly disgusted by reality, horrified and afraid. I cling desperately to the few things that give me some solace, that make me feel good. I hate most of humanity. Though I might be very fond of particular individuals, humanity in general fills me with contempt and despair. I hate most of what passes for civilization. I hate the modern world. For one thing there are just too goddamn many people. I hate the hordes, the crowds in their vast cities, with all their hateful vehicles, their noise, their constant meaningless comings and goings. I hate cars. I hate modern architecture. Every building built after 1955 should be torn down! I despise modern popular music. Words cannot express how much it gets on my nerves—the false, pretentious, smug assertiveness of it. I hate business, having to deal with money. Money is one of the most hateful inventions of the human race. I hate the commodity culture, in which everything is bought and sold. No stone is left unturned. I hate the mass media, and how passively people suck it up. … I hate having to eat, shit, maintain the body—I hate my body. … Nature is horrible. It's not cute and lovable. It's kill or be killed. … How I hate the courting ritual! I was always repelled by my own sex drive, which in my youth, never left me alone. … I hate the way the human psyche works, the way we are traumatized and stupidly imprinted in early childhood and have to spend the rest of our lives trying to overcome these infantile mental fixations. And we never fully succeed in this endeavor. I hate organized religions. I hate governments. It's all a lot of power games played out by ambition-driven people, and foisted on the weak, the poor, and on children. Most humans are bullies. Adults pick on children. Older children pick on younger children. Men bully women. The rich bully the poor. People love to dominate. I hate the way humans worship power—one of the most disgusting of all human traits. I hate the human tendency toward revenge and vindictiveness. I hate the way humans are constantly trying to trick and deceive one another, to swindle, cheat, and take unfair advantage of the innocent, the naïve and the ignorant. I hate all the vacuous, false, banal conversation that goes on among people. Sometimes I feel suffocated. I want to flee from it. For me, to be human is, for the most part, to hate what I am. When I suddenly realize that I am one of them, I want to scream in horror."

"I was lucky to be part of the "underground comix" thing in which cartoonists were completely free to express themselves. To function on those terms means putting everything out in the open—no need to hold anything back—total liberation from censorship, including the inner censor! A lot of my satire is considered by some to be "too hard." My "negro" characters are not about black people, but are more about pushing these "uncool" stereotypes in readers' faces, so suddenly they have to deal with a very tacky part of our human nature. … Who did I think I was appealing to? I don't know. I was just being a punk, putting down on paper all these messy parts of the culture we internalize and keep quiet about. I admit I'm occasionally embarrassed when I look at some of that work now."

"People have no idea of the sources for my work. I didn't invent anything; It's all there in the culture; it's not a big mystery. I just combine my personal experience with classic cartoon stereotypes."

"The fine art world and the commercial art industry are both all about money. It's hard to say which is more contemptible: the fine art world with its double talk and pretensions to the cultural high ground, or the world of commercial art trying to sell to the largest mass market it can reach. A serious artist really shouldn't be too deeply involved in either of these worlds. It's best to be on the fringe of them. In general, if you want to be a success and make the money, you have to play the game. It's no different in the fine art world, it's just a slightly different game. Essentially, you're marketing an illusion. It's much easier to lie to humans and trick them than to tell them the truth. They'd much rather be bamboozled than be told the truth, because the way to trick them is to flatter them and tell them what they want to hear, to reinforce their existing illusions. They don't want to know the truth. Truth is a bring-down, a bummer, or it's just too complicated, too much mental work to grasp."

"Before industrial civilization, local and regional communities made their own music, their own entertainment. The esthetics were based on traditions that went far back in time—i.e. folklore. But part of the con of mass culture is to make you forget history, disconnect you from tradition and the past. Sometimes that can be a good thing. Sometimes it can even be revolutionary. But tradition can also keep culture on an authentic human level, the homespun as opposed to the mass produced. Industrial civilization figured out how to manufacture popular culture and sell it back to the people. You have to marvel at the ingenuity of it! The problem is that the longer this buying and selling goes on, the more hollow and bankrupt the culture becomes. It loses its fertility, like worn out, ravaged farmland. Eventually, the yokels who bought the hype, the pitch, they want in on the game. When there are no more naive hicks left, you have a culture where everybody is conning each other all the time. There are no more earnest "squares" left—everybody's "hip", everybody is cynical."

"I wasn’t that passionate about it [the radical counterculture]. I agreed with it, but at the political demonstrations I would get very nervous when people started chanting in unison. I didn’t like that. I usually disliked those smash-the-state kind of guys, even though I agreed politically with them. I took LSD, I said “groovy” and “far-out,” but I was kind of a detached observer."