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Bananadine

From Wikipedia, the free encyclopedia

 

 

A banana peel

Bananadine is a fictional psychoactive substance which is supposedly extracted from banana peels. A hoax recipe for its "extraction" from banana peel was originally published in the Berkeley Barb in March 1967.[1] It became more widely known when William Powell, believing it to be true, reproduced the method in The Anarchist Cookbook in 1970 under the name "Musa sapientum Bananadine" (referring to the banana's old binomial nomenclature). The original hoax was designed to raise questions about the ethics of making psychoactive drugs illegal and prosecuting those who took them: "what if the common banana contained psychoactive properties, how would the government react?"[2] One book of one-liner joke comics, published in 1971, contained a comic in which a teen is secretly handing bunches of bananas to a zoo gorilla at night, uttering the line "Just throw the skins back, man!"[3]

Researchers at New York University have found that banana peel contains no intoxicating chemicals, and that smoking it produces only a placebo effect. Over the years, there has been considerable speculation regarding the psychoactive properties of banana skins.

Donovan's hit single "Mellow Yellow" was released a few months prior to the Berkeley Barb article, and in the popular culture of the era, the song was assumed to be about smoking banana peels. Shortly after the "Berkeley Barb" and the song, bananadine was featured in the New York Times.[4][5]

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Last night

I took a walk into the back of my mind

through the trash and the warning signs

there was a party full of jokes and clich's

I couldn't think of anything to say

and so I slipped into the men's room there

I saw my hair a way it's never been before

 

I took the stairs from my head to my heart

I didn't know they were so far apart

the heart is like a little chapel somewhere,

the pretty lights and the empty chairs

but I'm gonna bring a broom next time

I'll sweep out all the broken strings I find

 

She walks me down to my private train

and lays me down in my sleeping car

she keeps my elephant out of the rain

and sees to the care of my vintage cars

she is the blood of my life

without her I would starve

 

Who you gonna run to?

Who you gonna hide behind?

Who you gonna turn to

when there's nobody home but you?

 

What's a father to do

with all theses school-less injuns

running in circles around the wagons

What's a father to do

with all these monster debts

around my neck

on a sad sun deck

Oh, my children, the times are jaded

the simple life is complicated

oh, my children

 

Now if the dark of the night

arrives in the middle of the day

I'm gonna say my prayer

for sweetness and light,

gonna fix myself a Coke,

and hope it's alright

 

If the bat-winged beast sweep down

for a feast on me

I'm gonna pin my soul

to a hot-air balloon

gonna make it pop

and shoot me to the moon

 

Now you've had another piece of my mind,

a cup of coffee and a slice of time

if you'll excuse me I should say goodbye

I gotta go now.

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