Marijuana writing is probably stepping into its annoying explainer phase, with no shortage of glib weed hot takes, I kvetched a little while back. I was making reference to irritating if not entirely useless pieces like Vice Motherboard’s constantly shared “Weed Strains Are Mostly Bullshit” (to which I ask, just what exactly on earth isn’t mostly bullshit?) that leave little room just for fun or question or one’s own subjective whims whatever they might be in regards to weed. And all of that seems to be an important element to bear in mind when we’re thinking of a thing whose effects are mainly on your brain.
As i was smoking Clementine Kush, I began thinking that clementines are hybrids of mandarins and sweet oranges and no-one denies that they’re different from other oranges and that some individuals might appreciate them more, and no one’s dropping hot takes about how you don’t really understand the fruit you’re savoring. There are numerous varieties of oranges and people choose them for reasons that may be broached by mentioning pinene, however that doesn’t tell the full story. Satsuma Mandarins for instance – with the massive leaves and long stems, slightly smaller than your typical orange, slightly larger than a clementine with a looser skin – have a very singular taste, although the fact that they’re suddenly all around you due to the holidays adds something associative to their taste.
Tangie descendant Clementine Kush is a hybrid of Tangerine Sunrise (an exceptionally powerful and yippy strain) and Gupta Kush (a calm Indica named after the Democratically favored physician who’s pro-weed apparently, although also firmly in the pocket of big pharma and look, labeling a strain after that guy feels like the neoliberal nadir of contemporary marijuana culture to be honest, the dude is not exactly Jack Herer however i digress). Clementine Kush tastes much like an orange with a touch of cheap ancient man cologne and looks odd, a tangle of short and long leaves with crystals twisted all around them, oblong, like it’s sagging, an old man’s ball sack drizzled with keef – yeah I said it.
Clementine Kush’s effects dump on you, dripping down the body from head and eyes to shoulders, then retreating for a second prior to going farther downwards. It was just as if I was being ironed, warmed relief moving along my entire body retracing its previous steps a bit each time and then pushing on a little further. I went out to go watch some basketball at a pub. I watch it anarchically without any dedication to location all in praise of the people passing, shooting or dunking briefly bigger than team or corporation when they have that massive, yes, orange ball in their hands. Watching a HD broadcast on a non-HD television made a shimmering smear of orange behind the ball as it flung all over the court and this orange weed unloaded on me, a smear of alleviation moving through me. It felt right, though I am unable to explain it and do not want to.
Nose: An orange obviously, but also wood and bad bodywash
Existential dread: 2
Freaking out when a crazy person approaches you: 2
Drink pairing: Freshly squeezed orange juice
Music pairing: Rosalía, El Mal Querer