Cyberia: 1234567: All Smart People Go to Heaven

August 31st, 2005

CHAPTER 8
1234567: All Smart People Go to Heaven

Earth Girl–a beautiful if slightly otherworldly twenty-year-old from Los Angeles–is at Mr. Floppy’s Firm and Floppy house party in Oakland, explaining the effects of Psuper Cybertonic to several young girls who have traveled from the suburbs to get a taste of the house scene. Adorning her Smart Bar (a Peter Max version of Lucy’s psychiatrist’s booth) are several posters of mushrooms, spaceships, and loose quotes from The Starseed Transmissions:

“As this new awareness increasingly filters into everyday levels of human function, and as more and more individual human cells become aware of what is taking place, the change will accelerate exponentially. Eventually, the psychic pressure exerted by a critical mass of humanity will reach levels that are sufficient to tip the scales. At that moment, the rest of humanity will experience the instantaneous transformation of a proportion you cannot now conceive.”

Earth Girl and her traveling Smart Bar offer two brain nutrient mixtures: the Cybertonic and a stimulant drink called Energy Elicksure, made from ephedra (an herb related to the active ingredient in Sudafed, the cold medicine that keeps one from getting drowsy) and a few amino acid uppers. Her advice to the high-schoolers is heartfelt but somewhat underinformed. She relies heavily on the fact that these herbs are “100 percent safe, used for centuries by ancient cultures, and make you feel really good.” The girls all buy the Cybertonic for $3 a glass and chug it down. “Light up and live,” Earth Girl calls after the kids as they return to the dance floor.

A punkish boy stumbles up to the bar at about 4:00 a.m. His girlfriend wants to dance till dawn but the LSD he took at three that afternoon has sucked about as much in adrenaline as it offered in insight. Earth Girl sells him a large cup of tangy Energy Elicksure, and soon he’s back under the strobe lights, pulsing with new life.

It is the kind of scene that would horrify parents. What the hell’s going on?

Earth Girl isn’t really selling drugs; she’s selling nutrients. Drugs are patented medications that enhance brain function; nutrients are nonpatented substances that the body uses more like food to do the same thing, usually less invasively but also a bit less effectively. They include substances like the amino acid L-pryoglutamate, the herb Gingko biloba, niacin, lecithin, and certain vitamins. Earth Girl’s brews are slightly altered versions of prepackaged nutrient mixes available at health food stores or through multilevel marketers. These mixes bear the names of Durk Pearson and Sandy Shaw, whose book Life Extension first publicized the existence of smart chemicals and the notion of nutrient-enhanced “designer beings” back in the 1970s.

Smart drugs (with names like vasopressin–a snorted spray–hydergine and piracetam) are generally unavailable in this country. Depending on the legal weather, these drugs can be purchased through the mail from pharmaceutical companies overseas because of a loophole demanded by AIDS patients who wanted access to drugs not approved for use in the United States. (For more information, see Dean and Morgenthaler, Smart Drugs and Nutrients.) Smart drugs fall between the cracks of America’s ability to comprehend the uses of medication, which is why we have such a cloudy understanding of their abilities and their categorization.

Most cyberians understand the science by now. Acetylcholine is one of the chemicals that allow for transmission of information at the nerve synapses. As we get older, our supply of acetylcholine decreases. While we can’t just eat acetylcholine to increase the supply in the brain, we can take its precursors, such as choline, as well as chemicals that tend to increase our own production of acetylcholine by the cholinergic system. Some of these chemicals are now called “nootropics” (noos, “mind” + tropein, “to turn”–that is, “acting on the mind”), the new class of drugs that provide cognitive enhancement with no toxicity.

The most widely used, over-the-counter smart nutrients are mixtures of several forms of choline along with a few of the enzymes and co-enzymes that turn them into acetylcholine. Earth Girl’s Cybertonic is a combination of choline, acetylcholine precursors, and co-factors. Their effect is noticeable over time but not very dramatic. The sudden increase in popularity and marketing visibility of these nutrients is due to the fact that other, much more potent smart substances have arrived in Cyberia. It is a case of fame by association.

The pyrrolidone derivatives are the smart substances deserving the most attention. In an unknown way, they improve the functioning of the cholinergic system. They increase memory, boost intelligence, and enhance certain kinds of learning. They were originally used for diseases of old age such as Alzheimer’s and senility. The most widely distributed one in Europe is a geriatric medication called piracetam, which is unavailable in the United States. (Users here purchase it directly from European distributors through the mail.) It is a fast-acting, easy-to-notice cognitive enhancer. Walter Kirn, a novelist and smart drugs user (whom we’ll meet later), describes piracetam’s effect as “going through life wearing a miner’s lamp with a beam of intelligence.” Nearly everyone who takes it experiences greater ability to conceptualize complex problems and to retain information.

Users’ reactions to the drugs differ, and all have their preferred combinations and dosages. It’s quite common to see a bottle of vasopressin on a computer terminal, next to a bar of chocolate or a pack of cigarettes. A particularly dense passage of text to understand or a complex series of steps to write into a program? A blast of vasopressin and everything gets clear in less than a minute. Going to have a difficult day filled with interviews? Probably better off with piracetam or pyroglutamate in a few doses spread out over the course of the day–that added articulateness and recall will come in handy. And, of course, don’t forget the daily dose of hydergine until the end of the semester. Jet lag still a problem? Maybe some L-tyrosine (an amino acid) to wake up this morning instead of coffee–it works as well, without the jitters or the stress to the adrenal system. Smart drugs even help psychedelics users come down off difficult trips.

Smart drugs don’t get cyberians high or stoned, but they do seem to help them cope with complex computer problems, ego-bending philosophical or spiritual inquiry, odd hours, a highly pressurized work environment, or a creativity lapse. The most common perception among users is that they have gained the ability to deal with more than one or two parameters of a problem at the same time. A computer programmer, for example, gains the ability to track three or four different interdependent functions through a series of program commands rather than only one. Smart drugs give some writers the ability to keep half-a-dozen plot points in mind at once. Psychedelics users report the ability to download more of the information and realizations of a trip when they augment the coming-down period with smart drugs.

A typical smart drug user receives his supplies from laboratories in Europe, then creates his own regimen based on self-experimentation. “Personal neurochemical adjustment,” as users call it, is designer consciousness. Earth Girl’s distributor, Lila Mellow-Whipkit, a large, bald, hedonistic smart drugs enthusiast, loves explaining how this neurochemical self-modulation fits in to the new paradigm. He often sits behind Earth Girl’s Smart Bar sharing his wealth of data and insight with newcomers.

“Personal neurochemical adjustment–the equivalent is personal paradigm and belief adjustment. And there’s a basic presupposition stolen from cybernetics that’s used in NLP [neurolinguistic programming]: the organism with the most requisite behavior–the broadest variety of requisite behavior–will always control any situation.”

To Lila, smart drugs, NLP, and cybernetics are all basically the same thing: programming.

“In other words, if two people interact and they’re trying to get something done, the one who has the most variety in behavior is the one who will be in charge and decide where it’s gonna go. It’s an excellent operating presupposition. It works most of the time, because that person’s more able to compromise and come up with ideas, they’re less stuck. Think about children who are getting a good Christian education right now. Where are those people gonna be in the future? They’re gonna be what Hunter S. Thompson called `the doomed.’ They are the doomed. They have one belief system; they have one basic operating strategy, which is the avoidance of pleasure. That’s about it in Christianity as far as your real life. You get to kneel and pray to this dead guy.”

What Lila argues is twofold. First, smart drugs and nutrients open up new neural pathways, allow for new thoughts and more flexibility in conceptualizing. Those who take smart drugs can understand more patterns and survive better. Second, and more important, the implicit argument he makes is that the idea of smart drugs and the willingness to experiment with them are themselves heralds of the new paradigm. Not only is a smart drugs user more equipped to deal with the increasingly complex reality matrix; a person willing to take smart drugs is already coping better. He has taken the first step toward becoming a designer being.

The Readiness Is All

Downloading the massive information wave emanating from the end of time is no easy task. Sure, a stockbroker can use smart drugs to help himself draw broader conclusions about certain market data, but cyberians have always known that the real destiny of these chemicals is to foster the processing of the inconceivable.

Mark Heley had just graduated Cambridge when he first found smart drugs. An experienced psychedelic explorer, Heley already believed that the earth is heading toward a great bifurcation point. As a would-be usher of the final paradigm, he knew what was required of him: a hierarchical leap in his mind’s ability to identify, process, store, and articulate the complexities of eschatological acceleration. Mark was already smart–very smart–but he’d need to be even smarter to face the challenges ahead. He knew that smart drugs were going to play a major role in the formation of Cyberia, and he knew he was going to be a part of it.

At that time Earth Girl, who hadn’t yet abandoned her given name, Neysa, was visiting England. Her mother was a New Age extremist, and Neysa, age eighteen, had left the West Coast to get away from what she saw as trivial and fake spirituality. She wasn’t going back until she knew had something to fill the vacuum.

As a writer for England’s ID, Heley exploited his Cambridge philosophy education to become an articulate launcher of cultural viruses. In articles and lectures on topics ranging from permaculture farming techniques to technoshamanism, Heley defined the ways and memes of cyberian culture in London. He was DJing for a house club and running a “brain gym” (brain machine rental store), and in the process he gathered a wide following for a twenty-four-year-old. Neysa, for the time being, was just hanging out. When they met, they knew it would be forever.

In many ways, Heley and Neysa are opposites. He’s an intellectual who grounds every psychedelic revelation into a plan. He’s all business, and even his most far-reaching DMT experiences mean nothing to him if he can’t process them into concrete realizations about the nature of reality. If those realizations are to be worth anything, he must also quickly determine how to communicate them to others through articles, chemicals, club events, or cultural viruses. Heley is a mind. So much so, that his body, often neglected through aggressive chemical use and lack of sleep, revolts in the form of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, which incapacitates him completely for weeks or even months at a time.

Neysa lives through her body almost exclusively. She can feel what she calls spiritual “weather,” evaluate people at a glance, and predict events in the weeks ahead entirely through her body. She is incapable of articulating her experience through words, but has developed her own “language of heart,” which takes the form of a smile, a touch, an embrace, or even sex. Wherever she goes, a cluster of admirers forms around her looking for the security that her carefree yet self-assured manner offers them. With the help of Heley and his cyberian epiphanies, Neysa was able to embrace the New Age ideas of her mother in a new, cyberian context. Then she was complete: Earth Girl was born.

Where Heley valued smart drugs for their mental effects, Earth Girl saw them as a physical preparation for the coming age. They both knew that smart drugs and the cyberian designer minds that the chemicals fostered needed to be broadcast to a wider audience. America was ripe and ready. A few books on the substances had come out in the United States, but popular, club culture had no idea what was going on. Together, then, they decided to put smart drugs and cyber culture on the map.

After severing ties with his partners at the Mind Gym in London, Mark Heley came back to the Bay Area with Neysa and a new idea: Smart Bars. They could distribute the drugs as healthy fruit drinks over the counter right next to the dance floor. Mark’s media savvy and pharmaceutical experience could develop the idea into a workable concept. Neysa’s personality and flair made her the perfect barperson and iconic representation of new, designer being. Their mission was clear.

In San Francisco, Heley was introduced to Diana, a Berkeley dropout who, with her friend Preston, was running Toon Town, an underground roving house event for kids fed up with haughty dance hall atmospheres. Heley’s multidimensional language and strong ideas soon earned him Diana as his new girlfriend, as well as a position as one of the coordinators of Toon Town. Heley’s presence quickly manifested as an infusion of cyber-culture viruses. Rooms were set aside for brain machines, virtual reality demonstrations, sales of books and tapes, and the infamous Smart Bar. While Preston would later resist Heley’s metabrainstorm, for the time being it made Toon Town the highest profile house gathering in town. That, coupled with Diana’s gentle pleading and positive attitude, kept competition between the two men in check.

Heley, who by now had inherited and updated Ken Kesey’s role as charismatic visionary of the San Francisco psychedelic underground, invited the press and public to sample the Smart Bar and other attractions at the “cyber disco” party. While he tells only the facts to the press, “Smart drugs enhance neurofunctioning legally and safely,” he shares the real secret of his success with anyone who thinks to ask.

“My theory is that all that’s happening is really the same thing. There are cultural viruses which are actually no more than elaborate placebos to draw people in. They’re not the actual things that are happening. For example, smart drugs and virtual reality, these are two of my favorite cultural viruses because they really hit wide and hard. Virtual reality comes from the heart of a society which is really wired in to technology; it’s a powerful cultural virus for people to interface with a computer in a harmonious way. And yet, if you try to experience it, you’re sadly disappointed. Or you take a smart drug and even after designing an intelligent program, you realize that you’ve had all this inside you in the first place. People think they’re going to get evolved using smart drugs, when actually you’ve got to be evolved to want to use them in the first place.”

But Earth Girl shares a different story. Her enthusiasm for smart drugs and her newfound fame are irresistible. She puts her hair up in a Bardot-meets-Diller dredlocked beehive, and wears Day-Glo silk robes. She offers her take on the smart drug virus to the crowds who have gathered.

“For me they’re really good `cause I do enjoy getting high, as everyone does. I love altered states–they’re fun. But I can’t do the `body degeneration trip’ anymore, especially the mental one. Pot turns me into a moron. And a lot of these other kids are doing so many drugs in one night that they’re depleting themselves of vitamins and minerals that these drinks put back. Will they feel more love and communication ability from the Psuper Cybertonic? Probably not. But at least they’re going to be maintaining a balance. They’re tripping forever. They don’t eat for days. So I say, `Okay, here, have some of this, this is all of the daily whatever you need. It’s cheap, and it’s actually, really, really, really, really good for you so just like get into it.”‘

Mark gets pretty annoyed as Earth Girl babbles on to the press. He knows her words are heartfelt, but they’re also mindless and dangerous. Soon, Earth Girl is more of a phenomenon than the smart drinks themselves. She’s gathered a posse of young, mostly gay or sexually nondescript hangers-on whom she calls the Foxy Seven. To anyone uninvolved in the scene, Earth Girl begins to look more and more like a space cadet–or, in even the best light, a new version of the stereotypical San Francisco “fag hag.” The control she begins to exhibit over her seven assistant bartenders is absolute. She is their mother and spiritual guide. She holds out the promise of glory and adventure, and it’s all in the form of an elaborate theater/comic book/cosmic fantasy.

Earth Girl shares her new vision of the Smart Bar mission with her squadron as they set up her portable booth.

“We’re doing this because what we really are is, writers and performers. This is the perfect way to get in. We’re going to make our own comic book. We can keep launching all of our stuff. That’s why we all have to dress up. We’re the Foxy Seven–Earth Girl, Galactic Greg, Dynama, Greenfire. We get to play. Play and serve ”

Earth Girl takes on the tone of a restaurant manager briefing her new waiters, but in the language of a Course in Miracles instructor on local cable access. “When people are talking to you and asking questions, they’re looking at you like you’re an authority, so you conceive thought. And the stuff that we put up–the pictures of mushrooms, quotes from The Starseed Transmissions–it will help you keep on suggesting all this stuff hypnotically and subliminally. I mean, everyone needs a little awareness kick, as far as I’m concerned.”

Heley begins to feel it is Earth Girl who needs the awareness kick. First, she has started bringing the Smart Bar, which Toon Town paid for, to other clubs. Heley has been working a carefully controlled culturo-viral experiment–now it is “out.” Second, the kind of indiscriminate, overflowing enthusiasm she exhibits clouds many of the issues that Heley is attempting to clarify. She’s even been on national television news saying, “Smart drugs are really really really really really really really really really really good!”

But things get even worse when Rolling Stone shows up to do a piece on smart drugs. Of course, Earth Girl is the center of the interview: “Alcohol, cigarettes, coffee–work culture is drug culture,” she explains to their reporter. “With smart drugs, there’s no hangover, you’re not depressed, you have a better memory. Instead of getting fucked up and making a fool of yourself, you’re more in touch.”

Heley is incensed by her blanket statements, which counteract months of his machinations. He broods in a back room with the contempt of spurned lover. “Alcohol is out there. Its dangers are well known. It’s promoted by a massive machine. She’s running up against something which she can never ever hope to defeat. What are they going to do? Stop selling alcohol? No fucking way. It just has to be played out. What you’ve got to do is move the ground. You don’t attack the monster. You infect him, like a virus. Neysa’s attitude is almost like a sixties’ `left’ thing; it’s like, `attack the monster.’ But if you do that, you become the monster. You’re playing to spectacle. What we should do is simply infect the monster and let it destroy itself. By activating a media virus. And a media virus isn’t a media attack, it’s something which exposes things internally.”

This conflict made for a tense week in Cyberia, as Earth Girl explains: “Honestly, the best way to tell on a reflection level is the weather, as I’m sure you know. And if you just check the weather out for the past three days it’s just like … it’s still … we’re coming out, we’re trying to come out of it.”

It seemed to be a week in which cyberians were learning that somewhere else, someone else was doing exactly the same thing they were. Someone else was writing a book about cyber culture. Someone else was mixing a new house tune. Someone else was creating a club. Someone else was doing a Smart Bar. In addition, it had been raining for four days, and nearly everyone was fighting the same cold. No one was fully sick, but everyone felt under the weather.

Sitting with Earth Girl in a Thai restaurant on Haight Street, I take some of the herbal formulas that Lila Mellow-Whipkit has given me for my sniffles. Earth Girl explains to me how everything fits together. In spite of her generalizations, Earth Girl is a sensitive, “spiritually mature” young woman. It would be a mistake to let her cosmic jargon obscure her quite perceptive observations on human nature in the trenches of Cyberia:

“The weirdness of this weekend is that everyone’s discovering all these parallel things that are going on and everyone’s reeling from the fear of `do it first.’ But this is just the realization of a universal mind! Of course everyone’s doing it all at the same time. It’s all part of the same thing! Everyone’s fighting a cold, and feels like they’ve got a cold, but … it’s not breaking through … it’s a slightly physical thing, but it’s much more psychological because in this time all the fear can get in and all these negative thoughts and all this stuff can get in, and it is getting in. It did get in … but now I feel today we’re coming out of it. We’ve still got a lot of shit we’ve got to work out personally, like, group-wise.”

To Earth Girl and her followers, the current friction is really a morphogenetic stress. Many people are having the same ideas at the same times because they are all connected morphogenetically. The sickness and fear results from the inability to break the fiction of individuality. But in the cyber culture world, the denizens must realize that they are all connected. Their commitment to the metatransformation of humanity has put them all into the same “weather system.” They must be content with never “owning” an idea. There is no room for pride or credit.

But Earth Girl also seems to realize that her final allegiance is to herself and the Foxy Seven. Survival and ambition–however rationalized–still take precedence. By the time the Rolling Stone piece goes to press, Earth Girl has gone off to Big Heart City, another club in town, which gives her their entire basement (which was the location of Tim Leary’s reception last month) to create a smart drugs lounge. There, she will be queen bee, and will never again have to put up with Heley or his mild-mannered political arrogance. Her Smart Lounge will just “light up and live.”

Heley, meanwhile, partners with Chris, an electrical engineering student and smart nutrients chemist whose knowledge of neurochemistry is as vast as Earth Girl’s knowledge of spiritual weather.

It stops raining Friday afternoon, and Chris, Heley, Preston, and Diana convene at 650 Howard Street (a club that has become the temporary home of Toon Town) to eat the free hors’ d’oeuvres that the daytime bar gives out during happy hour. Having reviewed the Rolling Stone article, they now discuss strategies to keep their new and improved Smart Bar sans Earth Girl, called the Nutrient Cafe, on the cutting edge of neuro-enhancement. Mark gets on one of his articulate impassioned riffs about the smart drugs virus, as the others drink beer and nod. Not that they haven’t heard all this before, but nodding generally keeps Mark from getting too worked up and pissed off. Heley’s main regret is that the Smart Bar, which was supposed to be an outlet for true information about good drugs and bad drug laws, turned into a media joke.

“It’s a war on information. If you’re not capable of fighting the wrong information then you’re not capable of fighting the machine. The point is, that if we manage to combine the subtlety of good information with the bludgeon of its media impact, we’d have had a tool against the war on drugs. What do we have at the moment? Petty hype for a bunch of multilevel marketing people who want to scam a few fucking dollars out of something that doesn’t do what they say it does.

“What could have happened is that we could have gotten to a level where we could have argued the case for the complete restructuring of the drug patenting laws just on their own internal logic. Piracetam is not available in the U.S., not because of any toxicity, or any side effects, but because it’s not patented. Because the company that invented it didn’t patent it. At the time, it just wasn’t thought of as commercially viable. The psychotropic effects of piracetam were discovered years later. Also, there’s no FDA approval procedure for a nootropic drug. It has to be for Alzheimer’s, or it has to be for treating strokes.”

Heley’s disgust is well founded. Today, most smart drugs are not available in the United States even to victims of geriatric disease. In order for a drug to get FDA approval, a pharmaceutical company must spend millions of dollars on tests. It’s worth it to these companies to do the tests only if they know they will have a patent on the medication; with piracetam, the companies know they cannot get a patent. So, instead, they race to develop substances similar to piracetam and then patent those. Meanwhile, only the underground knows of piracetam’s existence, and it’s in the pharmaceutical companies’ best interests to keep it that way. The FDA obliges, and most doctors who know of the drug do not buck the system or risk liability by ordering unapproved substances from overseas.

In even more ludicrous cases, chemicals and nutrients like DHEA (not legal in the United States) and L-pyroglutamate (which is available at any good health store) have been studied by pharmaceutical companies and proven to enhance cognitive skills in humans. But the companies intentionally conceal these studies and instead attempt to develop variants of these chemicals that can be patented and sold more profitably. Some of these substances have even been shown to be effective in treating AIDS, but, again, since the drugs are not patentable, the studies done on them are suppressed. In one case, a scientist has been issued a court order not to reveal the results of his discoveries about DHEA. Heley believes that smart drugs, as a cultural virus, will expose how the American health-care business may be our nation’s most serious health threat:

“Smart drugs is a good way of burrowing in there. The argumentation that surrounds smart drugs, the web of the cultural virus, is just a worm designed to eat into those regulatory bodies and explode them by turning the mirror back on themselves. If we can create a cogent argument we can show up their structural inadequacies. The war on drugs, for example, being this blanket war on drugs. You can advertise cigarettes and alcohol and there are all these horrible over-the-counter drugs that you can buy; painkillers in this country are pretty fucking dubious to say the least. But the thing that can’t be said in American culture, because of that massive media attack, is that some drugs are good for you in some ways.

“What I object to is the smart drug argument being completely obscured. Now the FDA has a counteraction. Their counterattack has been to close the loophole which allows the importation of smart drugs. And that is the only rational piece of legislature in the entire cannon of American drug laws. And that wasn’t a loophole established by the smart drugs movement; it was established by Act Up, and by AIDS activist organizations over a long period of time with sustained political pressure of an absolutely enormous magnitude. All the FDA is waiting for one public excuse for closing this, and it’s gone.”

Diana rises to get more food. Heley realizes he’s grandstanding a bit, and justifies himself. “I admit that we made a mistake with this thing. It got out of hand. What we’re doing now is we’re actually trying to put this right. Doing this Nutrient Cafe: really straightforward. We’re not hyping, we’re not going do a media virus about it, but we’ll provide a really good product within a certain milieu, and lots of information about it. And if we completely stay within the laws as they exist at the moment, it’ll just do the fucking job without all of the bullocks.”

Diana returns with some chicken wings and joins in the conversation. “That bar never even evolved. When we started it the whole idea was that Mark and Neysa [Earth Girl] would create these products. They knew that Durk and Sandy products were shit anyway. That’s never happened. …”

Mark defends: “Well it’s not just that they’re shit; they’re old. It’s told and tired.”

“The only thing that’s evolved down in that basement [Earth Girl's new Smart Lounge],” Diana continues with candor, “is that there’s more decorations. And there’s more flash and there’s more superstars. And that’s not the point. There’s no books down there, there’s no information, there’s no pamphlets, there’s no nothing, and the people that designed it didn’t know shit about it. Not that I do, but I’m not selling the stuff.”

Mark interrupts: “I’m certainly not washing my hands of it, because we’re all partly responsible; we instituted a lot of the processes that lead to this thing. But I find myself radically disagreeing with the way she’s doing it. It’s not her, it’s not even the way that she’s approaching it. It’s the way that she’s allowing it to go. It’s a group thing. It’s not Neysa, the owners of Big Heart City, Rolling Stone, or Lila Mellow-Whipkit. It’s basically what all of them want out of it. This is a propagation of an immediate product over something which is an informational thing. How many people have ever fucking taken smart drugs since we started this? That’s a measure of its failure. The people that fucking do the Smart Bar don’t even use them.”

He stares off into space. He knows his ego is probably as responsible for his upset as the political vulnerability of Earth Girl’s glamour image.

“It’s a matter of fine balance. I really believe that if it had gone other ways, that FDA loophole wouldn’t even be in question. I think we’ll still manage to keep it open, maybe we have to do some repair work. It should never ever have been this way. It’s just my stupidity to allow it to happen.”

Maybe he should have taken more smart drugs.

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