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GMO Cookies is a cloak of comfort in weird times 

click to enlarge BRANDON SODERBERG
  • Brandon Soderberg

The world around us is getting smaller and the weed, well, it ain’t working so well. There is only so much relief anything can provide in this weird, awful, escalating — and enclosed! — time and we are all grasping for anything that might “work,” whether “working” means calming you down, distracting you, helping you go to sleep — whatever. I thought a dependable Girl Scout Cookies-derived strain like GMO Cookies (it combines GSC and Chemdawg and is almost entirely an Indica) might do the job. Its high is sharp and sustained but in a more off-kilter way than more straight-down-the-line GSC derivations, so the high would give me a few plot twists, I hoped.

The whole thing is Girl Scout Cookies-esque (I have lamented GSC’s growing dominance, battling it out with Blue Dream for the most-favored strain, encouraging a laziness among growers, budtenders and smokers), so it’s got that creeping relief and then the Chemdawg appears, offering up its most noxious qualities. GMO Cookies will give you dry mouth — which is something I remember um, dogging me last time I tried some Chemdawg — and the smell, which is Lysol but earthier, uglier, recalls Chemdawg’s odd gas aroma. Some say GMO smells like garlic and sometimes you’ll hear it called Garlic Cookies for that reason. I can see that, but I got more of a bland and offensive mushroom scent.
And its effects feel like a cloak or cape of comfort draped over you, covering your neck and back and not weighing you down the way some lumbering Indicas do. It is presumably good for doing things, but who is doing anything right now? Like everybody stuck in their homes — or for many others, mostly stuck in their homes and doing the especially grim schlep each day from home to a job that is likely not giving them the support or pay they need during a pandemic, and back again — you feel stuck, unfulfilled, capped. It’s not so fun to smoke weed and sit on the couch for a few hours when all there is to do is smoke weed and sit on the couch.

I thought about that part in The Doors of Perception where Aldous Huxley is all blown away by his pants. “I looked down by chance, and went on passionately staring by choice, at my own crossed legs,” Huxley wrote. “Those folds in the trousers — what a labyrinth of endlessly significant complexity! And the texture of the gray flannel — how rich, how deeply, mysteriously sumptuous!” He was of course talking about mescaline, a far different and more frisky drug, but I felt inspired by his ability to stare at his leg and have his mind blown. I wandered around, trying to appreciate the things I don’t. I loved how the moon looked last week, big and almost pink, reflecting off a little puddle in the street that is there because my one neighbor’s version of smoking GMO Cookies to escape seems to be mindlessly, persistently watering his grass. I’m not gonna judge.

Strength: 7
Euphoria: 8
Existential dread: 1
Freaking out when a crazy person approaches you: 1
Nose: Mushroom gravy
Music pairing: John Prine’s Pink Cadillac
Drink pairing: Mushroom gravy
Rating: 8

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