We are a humble, home-grown blog which aims to improve the quality of information regarding the Earth’s favorite pastimes. Comprised of a small but powerful group of somewhat unidentified contributors, the StonerCulture world is one of magic, mystique and adventure.
As the elevator hums you past the 25th story, you can already begin to smell a distinct, sweet odor pierce the brushed metal doors. Comfortably located in the skyline, 30 tall stories above a bustling downtown Austin, only a single, thin sign on an ornate wooden door informs you of the owners’ identity. “StonerCulture” reads the sign, with a gold-leaf homage to their interest proudly engraved in the glass.
Upon entering StonerCulture Floor, the first reaction is likely to be one of complete relaxation. You will be completely at home, with a warm feeling rushing over your body. As you look around, you’ll notice unique glass artworks align the walls, and large exotic looking bowls full of colorful, glittering plant matter are strewn, seemingly haphazard about the room. There is not a bare wall in the place, and when they are not obscured by glass and bouquets, you are likely to see a complex fractal, an abstract drawing, or simply a tribute to some great minds from the past and present.
A large, grayscale portrait of Albert Hoffman rests next to a framed cartoonish depiction of a man riding a bicycle, printed on thick, gridded paper. In another area of the lobby, a signed poster from an old Pink Floyd tour sits happily beside a vinyl copy of Atom Heart Mother. Alexander Shulgin’s eccentric face is plastered behind signed copies of both PiHKAL and TiHKAL, which rest atop a display case of a number of nondescript powders. Various other influential voices and personal idols like Carl Sagan, Nikola Tesla, Benoit Mandelbrot and Jimi Hendrix are also displayed about the area.
Our atmosphere is one of immense friendliness, an invitation to a fresh new world. The SC vision of the future is one of a happier today, a greener tomorrow and possibilities not yet imagined for the day after that (we don’t plan on doing anything about yesterday, though).
A happy receptionist will greet you upon entry, one of the four necessary to help organize the busy schedule. She might ask if you’d perhaps like a cup of home-brewed coffee. However, it’s hard to pay much attention, as behind her stretches a vast expanse of gorgeous Texas terrain, through sparkling glass windows. Certainly a sight to inspire the utmost imagination and creativity. But eventually you will regain your composure, and happily accept the offer.
Upon passing the main lobby, while casually bringing to your lips the hot, tasteful treat which has been provided, you’ll first come to the office of Lotus. There is no visibility into the room from the hall, and the only indication that the affluent co-editor/contributor works here is a single L burned into the heavy mahogany door.
In stark contrast to the tastefully yet sparsely decorated main lobby, the lair of Lotus is a visual blast of color, abstract shapes, paintings, and various artwork all flowing around the room. Even the ceiling appears to have a unique pattern about the texture, if only a very subtle one. The desk is a combination of organization and chaos. Some things are obsessively placed in specific areas, while others, which seem to have proved to be more of a nuisance, are indiscriminately shoved into overflowing drawers and folders.
The chair is empty, as Lotus prefers to stay inside during the nights, and make proper use of his days. He will be in after hours to contribute his efforts, as he believes the best ideas come well after midnight.
Passing by the other offices of the more lowly contributors, you’ll notice a growing presence at the end of the hall, the infamous StonerCulture main office. As intimidating as it is intriguing, the shaved glass exterior frees the mind to make its own interpretation of the vague silhouettes that are hidden behind. With a slight tingle in your fingertips and a skip in your heart, the golden handle is twisted and you find yourself in the heart of a culture.
An eccentric man sits before the largest, most impressive views you’ve yet to encounter on your journey. He is leisurely typing away on his computer, seemingly oblivious to his new visitors. He brings about him an air of confidence, respect and power, but also one of modesty, and unassuming benevolence. Anonymous to all but only a very small number of people, he is known only as “the editor.”