Thursday, April 28, 2011

I'm so excited, so excited to write a post about caffeine pills

What's little, pill-shaped and helped transform the sexual mores and customs of our society? Of course, I'm talking about the pill. But not the birth control pill, because who cares. I'm talking about caffeine pills, because they're great. Maybe the best things ever invented.

I know in a perfect world, this statement would not rankle anyone. But in our bizarre, backwards society, saying this is almost as bad as professing love for the 2001 Mariah Carey debacle “Glitter” (“Just look at the subtext where it's really a deconstruction of Mesopotamian society,” they claim).

As I said above, though, they're great. They make society a better place and they really don't deserve the unfair world-destroying viewpoint they've acquried (because, as we've already established, what's wrong about society is there exists people who dislike caffeine pills).

This comes from someone who takes them every day and absolutely loves them. When I throw my support behind staying up, you know it's not just because I've always hated naps, it's because they're great. Maybe the best thing ever invented.

At this point, I must reference the seminal (and only) caffeine-pill referencing event of anyone's life. Of course, I am referring to “Jessie's Song.” This is the episode of “Saved by the Bell” where Jessie somehow OD'd on caffeine pills and realized her “drug”-fueled life was hampering her ability to participate in a crap-talent-show-cover-performance of “I'm So Excited.” Sure, every pop-culture referencing blogger/hipster ever hatched has referenced this episode, but they usually chide Jessie for her poor decisions. I say she done good!

First. for those who lived under a rock from 1991 to 1996 when TBS aired this episode roughly 17 times a day, here's a brief clip.

It's actually faulty reasoning as to why she was “so scared.” She needed to to take those pills to both study for mid-terms and prepare for her crap talent show entry. Obviously, that cannot be done in the normal 18 waking hours of a day, and a little chemical boost is necessary to make sleep unnecessary. Resorting to caffeine pills was one of the best decisions Jessie ever made (aside from avoiding “The College Years”). She could study and rehearse and, if Zach hadn't been such a spoilsport, succeed.

And it's because of this episode that everyone has such a negative view upon caffeine pills. Although it occurred 21 years ago (ironically, a drinking age ago), it still sticks in people's minds as reason to avoid caffeine. Whenever someone claims they're tired, and I offer them a caffeine pill (I keep a pretty large stash on me at all times) they get really weird about it. It's like I'm some drug dealer and I'm offering them a gateway drug to the harder stuff—stuff that I can only assume is Children's Tylenol or Vitamin D tablets. Jessie has clearly tarnished the good of caffeine.

This hatred is really weird, because we live in a truly caffeinated society. A Starbucks exists on basically every block in America—and during its largest heyday, that number was closer to 3.6 Starbucks per block. There are constant ads for 5 Hour Energy (which I'll give has no caffeine, but it also doesn't work), caffeinated water, gum and enemas. Yet, when it's distilled down to one of its purest forms, people get freaked out by it. This isn't Ritalin here, people.

Thankfully, there are the open-minded souls out there who want to expand said mind and will partake in the caffeine when offered them. In college, one of my friends was juggling many simultaneous tasks—large class schedule, marathon training, managing editor of the school paper and probably many other hellacious, but superwoman-esque activities.

When she told me about this, I kindly pointed out that caffeine pills are great, maybe the best thing ever invented. The very next day, she had one of the largest concentrations of caffeine ever created sitting on her desk. It was like 1,000 tablets or something! With a stash like that, she became a gung-ho caffeine aficionado who always let me dip into her stash.

On days when I knew I'd struggle to stay awake in class, I'd swing by her office and say “Sarah, it's Tuesday,” which meant I was about to attend my film class screening and she'd give me one pill (drugs are required for Andy Warhol films). Or I'd say “Sarah, it's Wednesday, which meant I had my 2.5 hour uber-lecture and she'd immediately pop me two pills.

Even with this “dependency,” believe it or not shocked society, we still graduated. I think she teaches English in some African country now, and I write blogs where I criticize people for having stupid views about happy substances.

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